A Faithful Gathering

by Leslie Gould

“I’m Joe Bachmann,” he called out. “Reporting for duty.”

  “It’s unlocked.”

  He opened the door and stepped into the small room.

  A man wearing a khaki uniform kept his head down as he wrote on a form. Joe stood with his bag in his hand, waiting.

  The man looked up. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties and wore his hair short.

  Joe extended his orders.

  The man read them quickly and then said, “Grab two uniforms, linens, a blanket, a towel, and a pillow from the shelf.” He nodded toward the side of the room. “Then find an empty bed in the barracks.”

  “Where is that?” Joe asked.

  “Two doors to your right, down here in the basement,” the captain said. “The women have a dormitory on the top floor. No men are allowed up there for any reason. Understand?”

  Joe’s face warmed. “Of course.”

  “Report to the third floor at 0700 tomorrow morning.”

  “Sir,” Joe said. “I worked there this afternoon, and Lt. Madison told me to report for night shift tomorrow.”

  A look of amusement passed over the captain’s face. “You’ll follow my orders, not Lt. Madison’s.” The man nodded toward Joe’s shirt. “Take that to the laundry—it’s at the other end of the basement. They’ll get the blood out for you.”

  Joe nodded, thanked the man, and quickly retrieved the items from the shelves. As he walked through the barracks, several of the men climbed off their beds and shook his hand. One was from New York. He definitely wasn’t Amish. Another was a Mennonite man from Ohio. Another was a Quaker from Philadelphia. A dark-skinned man introduced himself as Ali. He was from Newark, New Jersey. “I’m Moslem,” he said.

  Joe had never met a Moslem person, or someone who was a Quaker either. All of the men were polite and welcoming. He continued on until he found an empty bed.

  He didn’t mind working the day shift the next morning, but he did regret he wouldn’t be working with Lt. Shaw.

  Joe didn’t sleep well that night even though he was exhausted. The noises from the other men and the honks and sirens outside the basement windows woke him over and over. He rose early before anyone else, showered, and dressed in his all-white uniform. After he ate breakfast, he arrived on the ward a half hour early. Of course, the nurse and orderly who’d worked all night were happy to see him.

  But when Lt. Madison arrived, she was annoyed. At first she chastised him for disobeying her, but after he said he was following Captain Russell’s orders, she pursed her lips and spun away from him.

  She did seem pleased to boss him around, however. Joe started out with managing the bedpans. Next, he and Lt. Madison fed the patients, then distributed the meds, and bathed the soldiers. They dressed the worst of the wounds and assisted several doctors, including Captain Russell, when they came through on their rounds.

  They repeated the feeding process at noon. After they’d finished, Lt. Madison grabbed an extra sandwich off the tray and told Joe to do the same.

  Then they dressed more of the wounds. At three p.m., another nurse and orderly arrived. Although the tasks were foreign to Joe, and he was definitely learning how to do them under a fair amount of stress, he didn’t feel as if he’d put in a whole day’s work. At home he was used to being in the fields twelve hours or more in the spring and summer.

  He retreated to the barracks and took a piece of paper, an envelope, and a stamp from the trunk at the end of his bed where he’d stored his things. He started a letter home, writing about the train trip, Lake Michigan and Chicago, the hospital, and his first two days of work. So far, I’ve been able to do the tasks required of me, he wrote. I’ve met all sorts of interesting people from different places—Ohio, New York, New Jersey, and Philadelphia. Objecting to fighting seems to be what we have in common. Joe couldn’t help but wonder what the other men thought of him.

  That evening, he looked for Lt. Shaw in the cafeteria but didn’t see her. Afterward, he sat in the barracks across from Ali. He had the darkest skin Joe had ever seen—a color comparable to coffee with just a little bit of cream. He’d been working at the hospital for three months. Joe listened to his story.

  “Are all Moslems nonresistant?” Joe asked.

  “Nonresistant?”

  “Pacifists.” Joe knew that was the more common term, although it wasn’t a synonym for nonresistant. Not only did the Amish not believe in fighting, they didn’t believe in defending themselves either.

  Ali shook his head. “There are many beliefs among those who follow Islam, just like with other faiths. Not all Moslems are conscientious objectors.” The man said he had a wife and son back home.

  Joe wondered who was supporting his family while he was gone but didn’t ask. Hopefully Ali had relatives or friends who were helping.

  Ali asked Joe if he wanted to go for a walk in the neighborhood surrounding the hospital, and Joe gladly accepted the invitation.

  Outside, two boys stopped them, asking if they’d buy war bonds.

  Ali said, “No, thank you,” and Joe nodded his head in agreement.

  One of the boys sneered at them and said, “Don’t you care if our soldiers die?”

  Ali explained that they worked as orderlies at the hospital and that they very much wanted for the soldiers to live.

  The other boy grabbed the first boy’s arm and they turned down the street.

  At least the doctors and nurses in the hospital seemed to value what the conscientious objectors did. So far, none of them had been negative in any way, at least not in front of Joe.

  In fact, Captain Russell had complimented him earlier in the day, saying he had a knack for medicine. “You should join up,” he said. “Six weeks of training at Fort Drum and you’d be ready to head to the front line to take care of soldiers there. With your strength and quick feet, you’d be a big help.”

  Joe just smiled.

  Later that night, as Joe finished his letter, he realized that not only did he miss his family, but he also missed speaking Pennsylvania Dutch. Speaking Englisch was a bit of an effort for him. Jah, being away from home was harder than he’d expected.

  The next morning, he rose early again. After he’d made his bed, tidied up, and showered, he headed to the cafeteria. As he ate a bowl of oatmeal, he hoped he’d see Lt. Shaw on the ward at the change of shift.

  After he finished breakfast, he headed up the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. As he neared the floor, he heard shouting, which compelled him to run the rest of the way. When he reached the floor, an orderly and Lt. Shaw held a patient on his back, flat against the mattress.

  Joe rushed to the side of the bed.

  “Grab his arms,” Lt. Shaw ordered.

  Joe did as he was told, pinning the man down.

  “I’ll be right back.” She ran to the medicine cabinet.

  The patient writhed and shouted, “Let me go!” He cursed and tried to yank his arms away.

  Joe held on, leaning on the man. “It’s all right,” Joe murmured.

  The man cursed again, his gray eyes wild, pupils dilated.

  Without even realizing what he was doing, Joe began to sing one of the few hymns he knew in Englisch, one that Charity had recently taught him. “When peace like a river, attendeth my way . . .”

  The man kept thrashing, breaking one leg loose from the other orderly. Joe kept singing as he swung his right leg up and pinned the man down with his knee. As he sang, he prayed Lt. Shaw would hurry up with whatever she went to get. He was afraid if the man broke free, he might throw a punch.

  Joe kept singing. “Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come . . .”

  Finally, Lt. Shaw returned with a syringe in her hand.

  The man yelled again, but she ignored him as she lifted his gown and plunged the needle into the flesh of his backside.

  “This will help you.” Her face was flushed, but she kept her voice calm. She whispered, “Don’t let go, boys, until I tell you.”

  Joe held
on to the man. Within a couple of minutes, the soldier began to relax, and his lids closed over his wild eyes.

  “Let go of him. Slowly,” Lt. Shaw said.

  Joe moved his knee and the other orderly let go of the man’s other leg. Joe let go of one arm and then the other.

  Lt. Shaw exhaled.

  “What happened?” Joe asked.

  Bennie, who was in the next bed, piped up. “He’s crazy, that’s what happened.”

  Lt. Shaw wrinkled her nose. “I hope he didn’t have a reaction to a medication. I’ll let Captain Russell know. Or perhaps it’s his nerves.” She lowered her voice. “Battle fatigue. It hits some out of the blue, or so it seems. Others struggle with it every day.”

  Joe hadn’t ever seen anyone with battle fatigue, but he had heard of it. During the War to End All Wars, he’d been told it was called shell shock.

  Two other orderlies arrived with the breakfast carts, and then once Lt. Madison arrived, Lt. Shaw finished up her charting while Joe started feeding the patients who couldn’t feed themselves and Lt. Madison passed out the bowls of oatmeal to the other patients.

  “See you later,” Lt. Shaw said to the other nurse.

  Lt. Madison turned toward her, a tray in her hands. “I hope you’re not upset about being back on nights.”

  “Not at all.” Lt. Shaw smiled, though she looked absolutely spent.

  “It’s really the easier shift,” Lt. Madison continued.

  Lt. Shaw nodded. “It’s fine. Really.” Then she turned toward Joe. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t arrived.” Her blue eyes glistened. “Denki.”

  Joe smiled. “Glad I could help.”

  It wasn’t until after she left the ward that he realized she’d thanked him in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  7

  Leisel

  It’s late,” Aenti Suz said. “We should head home.”

  “Wait,” I replied. “You can’t stop now.”

  She yawned. “You need your rest even more than I do. I’m guessing you’ll come back here in the morning.”

  Aenti Suz’s yawn was contagious, and my mouth involuntarily opened too. I covered it quickly.

  “Besides,” she said, “Caden might be out of sorts. We should see if we can help Jessica.”

  “You’re right.” I stood quickly.

  We stopped by Marie’s room, but both she and Gordon were asleep. We didn’t want to wake them, so we headed out to the parking garage and to my car.

  Aenti Suz could have picked up the story on the drive home but instead we talked about Marie. I’d left a message on the machine out in the barn and hoped Mamm had checked it. Or maybe Arden had and passed on the message.

  I turned onto Oak Road at Sunn-unnah, just as streaks of pinks and oranges appeared in the western sky over the emerald green field.

  “Ach,” Aenti Suz said. “That’s what miracles look like. I’m confident Marie will completely recover.”

  It was a sunset with a perfectly scientific explanation based on the wavelength of the light and the size of the particles in the atmosphere. The miracle of Marie’s body, the way God created it to heal, was what amazed me. And bodies could heal—or not. But I appreciated the intent behind Aenti Suz’s comment. We all hoped Marie would recover, miracle or not.

  I parked in my usual spot and followed Aenti Suz to her Dawdi Haus. No one was there.

  “They must be over at Mamm’s,” I said. “Why don’t you rest for a while? I’ll go help Jessica.”

  No one was in the kitchen or the living room, and Mamm wasn’t in her sewing room, but a baby—Caden, I was sure—cried from the second floor, so I headed upstairs.

  Jessica stood in the old sewing room, where the crib was, Caden in her arms and Ruby hanging on to her leg.

  “Oh dear. I’ll take him.” I held out my arms. For a moment I was afraid he wouldn’t come to me, but then he did. He kept crying.

  “How is Marie?” Jessica asked.

  I told her what the doctor had said. “Didn’t Mamm check the messages? Or Arden?”

  Jessica shook her head. “Not that I know of. At least no one told me.”

  “Where’s Mamm?” I asked.

  “Bed. At least that’s where I think she is.”

  It was eight thirty. “Did she help you at all today?”

  Jessica shrugged.

  My pulse raced. “What’s going on with her?”

  “I don’t know. But something’s bugging her.”

  Caden began to scream, and I started to bounce him. “Did you plan to have him sleep here?”

  Jessica nodded and scooped Ruby into her arms. “We’re sleeping in our old room.”

  “I’ll take him over to Aenti Suz’s,” I said. “Where his travel crib is.”

  Needless to say, Caden hardly slept that night and neither did I. He couldn’t settle down, so I took him out to Aenti Suz’s living room. But when he continued to be fussy, I finally took him over to Mamm’s. Since the house was larger, he wasn’t as likely to keep others awake there. I wanted Aenti Suz to get some sleep.

  When Mamm came down at five o’clock, I had Caden in his high chair. I’d started a pot of coffee for me and had prepared a bowl of cereal for him.

  I was surprised to see Mamm so early. I expected her to ask about Marie but she didn’t. “Did you get my message?”

  She shook her head.

  “Marie came through the surgery all right.”

  “I figured,” Mamm said. “Otherwise you would have woken me up when you got home.”

  I had a dozen questions for her—starting with why she went to bed before I got home—but Caden began to cry again. I quickly poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed the bowl of cereal.

  “All that child does is cry,” Mamm muttered as she poured her own cup of coffee.

  I inhaled sharply. Maybe it was better that Mamm wasn’t helping Jessica with the children. She’d probably only make things worse.

  I had Caden fed, bathed, diapered, and dressed by the time Jessica and Ruby came down the stairs. Ruby was smiling and laughing, and Jessica seemed well rested too.

  “There’s our little girl.” Mamm held out her arms to Ruby. “Come to your Mammi.”

  I winced. Mamm had played favorites with her daughters—and now she was doing the same with her grandchildren. Dat had never played favorites with anyone.

  Ruby didn’t take the bait and instead hid her face against Jessica’s leg.

  “Give her a few minutes.” Jessica turned toward me. “How’s Caden? How are you?”

  I didn’t want to complain about a lack of sleep so I simply said, “He’s having a rough time.”

  Mamm harrumphed.

  Jessica turned toward me, rolled her eyes, and mouthed, Ignore her.

  “After everyone’s ready for the day, I thought I’d head up to the hospital and see if Gordon wants to get some sleep.”

  Jessica nodded, slipping Ruby into the high chair. “It’ll just take me a few minutes to feed Ruby. Then I can take Caden.”

  I reminded her that I’d be going to Pittsburgh that night and taking my test the next day.

  “I remember,” she said. “Ruby and I will sleep over at Aenti Suz’s so Caden can sleep in his travel crib.”

  I thanked her and then sat in Mamm’s rocker with the little guy, hoping maybe he’d fall asleep. He didn’t. He seemed traumatized to be away from his parents, and I didn’t know what to do to help him.

  After I arrived at the hospital, Gordon headed to the farm to spend some time with Caden while I stayed with Marie. I brought my review book again, but it stayed in my backpack. I didn’t open it once.

  Marie’s first worry was about Caden. I didn’t tell her how upset he was.

  “You know how much he likes Ruby,” I said. “It’s a warm day. They’re probably playing in the sandbox and having a great time.”

  Marie smiled a little. “I’m so grateful for my sisters.”

  She told me she was doing fine, but I qu
ickly realized she wasn’t. By midmorning she was in a lot of pain, long before it was time for her meds, and her blood pressure kept crashing. She was pale and weak, and quite frankly, I was alarmed. Several times I pushed the button when I felt the nurse didn’t respond quickly enough to a low blood pressure reading on the machine, even though the alarm went off.

  Obviously the nurse had a lot of assignments for the day, but this was Marie. My sister. I hoped I would remember what it was like to be on this side of the bed when I started working as a nurse in a hospital.

  I tried to do everything I could to help. As I gave Marie a sponge bath, I thought of my Dawdi Joe doing the same for soldiers all those years ago in Chicago. As I coaxed Marie to eat, I thought of Joe feeding his patients. Like Joe, I’d moved to a city far away from Lancaster County. But unlike Joe, I’d already trained as a CNA when I started working in the nursing home and taking classes. I already knew I wanted a career in medicine. He’d been thrown into it, having had no part in the decision making.

  But that was what was done in times of war. I wondered if Nick realized what he’d be signing up for if he joined the Air Force. His life wouldn’t be his own, not at all.

  He texted me several times during the day. First to make sure I wanted to return to Pittsburgh to take the test. You can reschedule. Or take it in Lancaster, if that would be better. I texted back that I wanted to take the test the next day, in Pittsburgh.

  Then he texted to see what time I would arrive and if he could see me. I told him I wouldn’t get in until late.

  No worries, he texted back. The most important thing is that you get a good night’s sleep. He said he could meet me after the test. I’ll take you to lunch to celebrate. I cringed. I wouldn’t even know if I passed or not until two days after I took the test. Lunch would be nice, I texted back. No matter the outcome of the test. J

  Mostly, throughout the day, my attention was on Marie. “Hospital time” was an inconsistent animal. Sometimes it was slower than a sloth. Other times it raced like a cheetah. This day sped by and in no time it was late afternoon and Gordon had returned.

  “How’s Caden?” was the first thing Marie asked.

  “He’s missing his mama,” Gordon answered. “But he’s doing all right.”