“No, it hasn’t. See if you can speak to the Amish elders. The community’s bishop is John Lapp, and their deacon is a man named Eppie Yoder. They’re pretty tuned into what’s going on, not only faith-wise, but also what members of the community are discussing and experiencing.”
“Great. I’ll get right on it as soon as we get back to City Hall.” Linda tapped a note in her smartphone to remind herself to deal with the matter.
The three Amish women who had just walked past the mayor stopped beside a small coffee shop. Leaning against a huge, decorative rock by the side of the road, they caught their breath and spoke quietly among themselves. “Could it be her? I think she’s the mayor.”
“I don’t know, Sarah. It could be anyone. I just wish we knew who heard what was being said and could identify them! Then we could approach them and find out.”
“That would be wunderbaar. But I’m afraid of talking to any of them, just in case we’re talking to the person who wants us gone,” said Sarah, who kept her face pointed down. She didn’t want to meet the eyes of any of the English walking or driving past.
Miriam’s smooth brow was crinkled in confusion. “That’s odd.”
“What?”
“I’m looking at all of the English passing by and they either look at us with curiosity or if they smile. I do not see any anger, frowns or hatred. Maybe I'm too optimistic, but I’m beginning to wonder if someone’s trying to play games with us.”
Barbara and Sarah looked at each other. Sarah dared to look directly at the Englishers, and she saw what Miriam was seeing. Sarah made a mental note to go and talk to Libby King. “I’m going to talk to one of the girls at home. I trust her judgment. She’s pretty level-headed.”
“Gut idea. Well, we’d better get home, or we’re going to get in trouble with our parents.” The girls all shifted their bags and began walking again.
“I’ll let you know what I find out from Libby. She’s who I was talking about. Let’s meet in the field by the Miller’s house. It’s central to all of us.” Sarah veered off toward home. The remaining two girls sped up just a little bit. Even though it was only midday, cold, and they were tired, they still feared running into a hate-filled English person who wanted nothing more than to chase them away from Big Valley. As they walked, Miriam set one foot down on a large stone, twisting her ankle painfully. “Oh, ouch!” She went down hard, landing on mud and melted snow.
“Miriam! Are you hurt?” Barbara kneeled next to Miriam, who was holding her right ankle and grimacing.
“Ahh, ja. I think so. Look, that’s Amos Smits ahead. See if he can stop and get us home, please.” Miriam panted as she tried not to cry.
Standing, Barbara waved Amos down, and then ran to his buggy. “Amos! Please, you need to help us. Miriam and I are on our way home from town. She twisted her foot and can’t walk. And we don’t want to run into any English people!”
“Ja, I’ll help. Get in. Why are you worried about an English person in broad daylight?”
Barbara, now sitting next to Amos, caught her breath. Panting, she spoke. “We saw an English woman, probably the mayor, with her assistant. We—”
“Did they look at you with anger or anything?”
Barbara blushed. “Nee, not really. In fact, I don’t think they really noticed us. Amos, Miriam was saying that she didn’t see any of the English looking at us with anger or anything like that. She’s going to talk to someone about it and see what she comes up with.”
“Ja, gut idea. Here we are. Miriam, I’ll help you in.” After taking the girls to their homes, Amos continued on his errand, thinking. Gott, are you telling me that we have nothing to worry about? If so, who is carrying out such a cruel trick? I pray it isn’t Katie! By the time he arrived home from his errand, Amos was so twisted up inside with worry and fear, he nearly snapped at Eli.
“Mam just about has supper ready, Amos. Unload quickly and wash up.” Eli hurried past him.
“Can’t you see that I just got home?”
Eli turned and gave Amos a level look. “I don’t know what’s eating you, but don’t you dare take that attitude inside.” His voice was low and firm.
Amos sighed. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m just really worried about this idiotic rumor going around.”
Eli changed direction and trotted next to the buggy as Amos aimed it for the lean-to. “Let me help you. Did you run into any problems in town?”
“Nee. The only thing was that Barbara and Miriam were coming home. They were hurrying because they didn’t want to be harassed by anyone. Miriam twisted her ankle, so I took both girls home, and then I finished my errand.”
“And?” Eli knew there was something more.
Amos sighed. “They said they were worried about being threatened by someone they didn’t know.” He grunted as he lifted heavy bags out of the buggy. “They passed someone they think was the mayor and her assistant. Those two didn’t even see them, it seems. Then Miriam noticed that none of the English people walking past them was looking at them in anger or hatred, so that made her begin to wonder.”
Eli was silent, unable to speak. Seeing the pain and confusion darkening his younger brother’s eyes, he wished he was wrong about Katie. He resisted the impulse to say anything more to Amos. Instead, he finished emptying the buggy of Amos’s purchases, putting them into their workshop. “Amos, I am sorry. I know you have a lot of thinking to do. I pray you get the right answers.”
Amos looked at the ground, feeling guilty that he’d snapped at Eli. He was grateful for his brother’s compassion. Hurrying inside, he washed up, ensuring he washed the road dust from his face and neck. Back downstairs, he took his place at the table. “Dat, after supper, I have to run an errand. I’m not sure when I’ll be back home, but I’ll try to be in early.”
Eli looked at Amos’s face but could spot nothing of his brother’s feelings or intentions. If you’re going to go see Katie, keep your guard up and ask the right questions.
Chapter 12
After supper, Amos changed to a clean shirt and combed his thick, auburn hair. In the barn, he hitched his horses back to his buggy.
WAITING FOR SOMEONE to answer the door at the Millers, Amos was nervous. When the door was opened, he smiled a little at Katie. “Hi, do you have some time for a drive this evening?”
“Ja! Let me just tell Mam.” Katie opened the door for Amos, and then sped off. She hurried back, smiling. “Mam just told me to be back by the time it gets dark.”
“Gut. That works. Let’s go.” Amos felt unusually tongue-tied. Helping Katie into the buggy, he prayed that he would be able to communicate as he always did with her. “How was your day?” He smiled, looking into her happy face.
“Gut. I made great progress on another quilt. My customer will love it. She always does. How was your day?”
“I delivered a large project to one of my customers. He was happy with it, and my bank account was especially happy. Then, I went to the store and bought a bunch more stuff that I needed. On my way home, I bumped into Barbara and Miriam. Miriam had just fallen after twisting her ankle on a rock. I asked them why they were in such a hurry on a rough dirt road. Barbara said that they were afraid of possibly running into whoever’s been telling us to get out of Big Valley. And I asked them why they’d be fearful in the middle of a sunny winter day.”
“Miriam twisted her ankle?” Katie clenched her hands in the skirts of her Plain dress. Now someone had been hurt. And if they found out Katie was responsible, they would shun her. Cast her out. Amos would hate her. Everything just got worse and worse.
“Ja. Are you okay?”
“What did they say?” Katie asked.
“They just don’t know, Katie. That the person making these threats only acts in the shadows, possibly at night.” Amos stopped speaking, surprised at the words that had come out of his mouth.
“Well, that makes sense. If I was responsible, I wouldn’t want to be seen.” Katie rubbed her forearm absently. Too cl
ose to the truth. Usually lies were easier, but she was exhausted with everything.
Amos nodded, thinking carefully. “Ja, that person who hates us wouldn’t want to be unmasked. That’s true. Have you been confronted by this person?”
Katie kept her gaze on Amos’s face. “Nee! Amos, I wouldn’t know what to do if they came up to me and told me to leave.” Except they were telling her to leave all of the time. Her parents. Esther. The English ladies. The Bishop. She could hear them all scolding her. You’d better not. Katie closed her eyes. “It...It’s frightening. For once, I’m glad that Mam and Dat are telling me to be home by dark.” At least it showed they wanted her around. It showed they cared.
Amos nodded. Stopping the buggy under their favorite tree, he set the brake and leaned back.
It can’t be her. She’s just as affected by this mess as anyone else in town. But, just in case... He sighed, pivoting his body to face Katie. “Miriam, and Barbara said something else. They noticed that when they were coming back home, none of the English people were looking at them with anger or hate. With curiosity and friendliness, ja, but not hate.
“That made me start thinking that this rumor is just that. A rumor. I also know from spending so many wunderbaar afternoons, days and evenings with you that you love to create tales. Katie, if this is just a story you’ve made up to...I don’t know...amuse yourself, could you please stop? I won’t reveal you to the elders. I just want to see this stop.”
Katie went pale. His words, after ‘story you’ve made up’ were a rush, like a raging river, in her ears. “Amos! How can you accuse me? I’m just as affected—”
“As anyone else. Ja, I know.”
Amos suspected her. If the rumor stopped now, he’d know for sure this was all her fault. She wanted to stop, but the thought of losing him was even more terrifying than keeping the story alive.
Amos said, “Libby came to me with her concerns, too. She knows you love to create imaginative stories.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “You could choose to leave our community, write books and get rich selling them.”
Amos wanted her to leave. Why else would he tell her to become an Englisher and write books? Tears rose to Katie’s eyes. “Amos....”
“Oh, Katie!”
Katie rubbed the top of her hand under her eyes. “You want me to leave and become an Englisher?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Katie, I’m so sorry. But Libby did say that your ‘what if’ stories always feature some English person who hurts one of us, either accidentally or on purpose.”
Katie hiccupped. “Is that—.” Had all of her stories been that way? She hadn’t even noticed. “Nee. I promise you. Ja, I love to create tales. And, like you, I want this nightmare to end.” Hot tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Amos, seeing this, felt lower than a worm. “I’m so sorry, Katie. Come here.” He gathered Katie into his arms. She nestled against his chest.
“Do you...believe me?” Katie asked.
Amos hesitated, and Katie’s skin felt like ice.
“Ja,” Amos said.
A voice in her mind, like a story, said, “He’s lying.”
Amos continued, “You’re living through this as well. But please, be careful about the topics of your stories. Okay?”
Katie nodded, wiping the tears from her face. As if she really had a choice about them. The pressure of her emotions would rise, and as hard as she tried to push it down, as hard as she tried to fit into the mold society had set for her, she would eventually fail. And the horrible stories, lies, and sometimes more horrible truths would all ooze out through the seams. No matter how tightly she tried to stitch herself silent.
Katie sighed. “I’d better get home before it’s full dark.”
Maybe she could try harder. Be the woman Amos loved. But if she stopped right now, then Amos would know it had all been her fault. How long would it take for him to decide he couldn’t trust her? How long until he tossed her aside as well? Just like everyone else?
IN HIS ROOM, AMOS STRIPPED his clothes off, tossing them into his hamper. He rolled into bed after brushing his teeth and showering. Lying on his back, he prayed and thought. I want to believe her. I love her. But the facts do point to her. I’ll just keep trying to get to the bottom of this and make sure Katie’s not the source of this awful rumor.
THE NEXT DAY, THE MAYOR and her aide came into Big Valley, stopping at the bishop’s house. After telling John Lapp what they wanted to talk about, the bishop sighed. “Ach, ja. This tale has everyone frightened. Nobody is allowed to be out past dark. When the youth come home from their sings, they do so in large caravans.”
“Bishop, I am almost positive that nobody in Big Valley has expressed such a hateful thought. We all love having you as neighbors. You’re peaceful, and you’re all wonderful examples of how we should treat everyone. Do you have any idea how this got started?”
“Ja. Some months ago, we started hearing that an anonymous English person had been heard saying that the ‘Amish should get out of Big Valley’ and settle elsewhere. Nobody saw who this person was. After several weeks, the rumor stopped, just seemed to die down. About a month ago, it started back up. Only now, that person was said to call us a cult.”
“Hmmm. That’s pretty hateful.”
“Ja, exactly. I’ve been to town, mayor, and I have felt nothing negative from anyone. Store owners, waiters, waitresses, people driving by—all have been welcoming and friendly.”
“Actually, Bishop Lapp, I’m not surprised. Big Valley is pretty accepting of people overall. Sure, we have bigots, just as any other community does. But I’ve never heard anything from anyone about wanting you out of here. I hope we can, together, get to the bottom of this. Before anyone is harmed.”
The bishop shivered slightly in the warm kitchen. “Ach, ja. If this is a rumor, I don’t want to see anyone hurt. But by the same token, if...”
“Anyone who is spreading this kind of hate, they need to be found. I understand.” The meeting ended on that note. The mayor was thoughtful as Linda drove her back into town. “Linda, I think we need to make this public. If anyone is saying these kinds of things, it may bring them forward.”
Linda was silent for a few seconds, thinking. “Yeah, I think you’re right. On the news? A letter sent to all households? The internet?”
“All of them. Work on something that could be written and sent to everyone, please. I’ll contact the television stations, and we’ll start from there.”
LIBBY PAUSED AS SHE saw Katie nearing the Amish Market. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to spend much time with her friend. Fortunately, Katie had her head down and seemed to be woolgathering. Quietly, Libby went to her buggy and hurried to get home before Katie came back to the present.
Katie was, indeed, thinking hard. She was barely aware of the goings-on around her as she considered her latest, and hopefully last, plan to ramp up the “Amish get out of here” rumor. I can take Dat’s paintbrush and some of his white paint. There’s that wood fence just as we come into the community. I can paint something that says we should get out of here. There’s too much doubt about the story, and even Amos doubted me the other night.
Decision made, Katie veered into the Amish Market so she could buy what she needed.
AT HOME THAT NIGHT, Katie waited for her parents to go to bed. Her stomach roiled, and a sticky sweetness clung to the back of her throat.
This was wrong. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t afford to lose Amos.
After coming home that afternoon, she had found a can of white paint and a paintbrush, which she had stolen and hidden behind a large, bare bush. Disappearing into her quilt room, she straightened up and dusted so her mam wouldn’t realize that something was off.
Once this was done, she could return to her normal life. It was necessary. But a part of her still hummed with anticipation. Even now, the thought of telling such a whopper gave her a pe
rverse excitement.
Hearing the familiar tread of her parents’ steps as they went upstairs, she stood in the doorway of her quilting room and inspected it. Blowing out the lamp, she made sure the house was locked up. She unlocked the kitchen door. She was coming into the living room when her mam called down to her. “Katie, don’t be very long! I’m going to need your help with the cleaning tomorrow.”
“Ja, Mam, I’m going to bed soon.” Katie took a book from the shelf. It was a dry text on carpentry. She avoided the old, leather-bound bible on the table beside the sofa. Gott’s words would only make doing what she had to do harder.
I am already a sinner. Just one more transgression, and I can beg for forgiveness for the rest of my life.
After staring blankly for a few minutes at a diagram of how to build a chair, Katie then went upstairs. She blew out her lamp after a few minutes, and then carefully slipped out of her room and back downstairs.
Making sure she had her house keys, she locked the back door and slipped out as quietly as she could. Hurrying to the bush, she retrieved the paint can and brush. She’d worn dark-colored clothing so she couldn’t be seen as easily. Hurrying, she made sure to walk just inside the bushes along the roadside.
Arriving at the tall wood fence, she panted and caught her breath. She set the paint can down and opened it. The harsh smell of paint fumes brought tears to her eyes. Or maybe it was the knowledge that after this point, she couldn’t turn back.
I should go home.
I can’t.
Go away. You’re not wanted here.
The English ladies’ voices deepened, and Katie saw them as the [Bishop of Goshen] and Bishop Lapp. “You are cast out. You can never be forgiven. Just go.”
I can never be forgiven. The best I can hope for is to steal happiness from the edges of my life and paint myself into a different future. One where I can, for a time at least, be worthy of love.
Amish Secrets and Lies Page 8