The Englisher

by Beverly Lewis

  Like Yonie will become one day?

  She had to laugh out loud. ‘‘Oh, jah. He’ll run mighty wild. Maybe he won’t ever allow himself to be haltered.’’

  More sober now, Annie shivered in the cold.

  I should talk. Will I?

  Chapter 11

  Snow had been falling all night, and the henhouse roof was beginning to sag. Jesse Zook Jr. and Annie’s next oldest brother, Christian, arrived at first light to help their father remove the heavy ice. Sarah Mae, Jesse Jr.’s wife, came along, too, with their preschool-age boys, Little Jesse, Richard, and Davy, in time to help Mamm fry up a whole batch of corn fritters for breakfast.

  As always, Annie was overjoyed to see her sister-in-law and wondered why Christian’s wife, Martha, hadn’t accompanied him, as well. When she asked, her brother said Martha was ‘‘under the weather,’’ and Annie suspected she might be expecting their third baby.

  ‘‘Well, if Abner and Priscilla and their little ones were here, we’d have nearly the whole family,’’ Annie said.

  ‘‘We’ll see everyone at Preachin’,’’ Daed said.

  Mamm agreed, waving at Dawdi and Mammi Zook as they made their way into the kitchen from the addition next door. Annie’s grandparents sat at their appointed places at the long table, waiting for the hot meal to be served. Promptly, Mammi asked Louisa, ‘‘Where’s that perty Courtney today?’’

  ‘‘She’s getting ready to fly home this evening,’’ Lou replied. ‘‘I think she’s anxious to get back to Colorado.’’

  ‘‘Jah, I s’pose,’’ Annie said.

  Sarah Mae carried a heavy platter to the table and set it down. That done, she got her stair-step boys washed up, with a little help from Annie, and then settled them onto the long bench on the window side of the table. ‘‘Some of the women are having a kitchen shower for Rudy and Susie Esh,’’ Sarah Mae said softly, mainly to Annie.

  It was their custom. After a couple married they spent each weekend at a different relative’s home for the months following the wedding, in order to receive their wedding presents. And, in the case of a kitchen shower like the one being planned for Susie Esh, the womenfolk would bring enough canned goods and preserves to stock the young bride’s cold cellar. Typically they would have thrown a large grocery shower by now, but with ongoing inclement weather and so many down with winter flu, they must have waited.

  ‘‘That’s real nice of you,’’ Annie said, realizing again how happy she was for her former beau and his wife. ‘‘I’ll be glad to come, if that’s what you’re askin’.’’

  ‘‘Oh, would ya?’’ Sarah Mae’s eyes lit up.

  ‘‘Why, sure.’’ Annie nodded. ‘‘I’ll bring Lou along, too.’’

  Here she glanced at Louisa, who’d slipped in next to Annie’s grandmother. ‘‘Would you want to?’’

  ‘‘Hmm . . . I don’t have any canned goods to give,’’ said Lou.

  Sarah Mae smiled and tucked a napkin under her youngest boy’s chin. ‘‘Ach, that’s fine. Just come and have some hot cocoa and goodies . . . and wish the bride well.’’

  Wish her well . . .

  Annie pondered the before and after state of marriage for young women. Some seemed to blossom under the covering of their husbands, while others lost their smiles nearly immediately. Like Esther did. . . .

  ‘‘There’ll be good fellowship,’’ Mamm added, which meant she’d overheard the conversation. ‘‘Louisa should go along for that reason alone.’’

  ‘‘When is it?’’ asked Annie.

  ‘‘This Friday afternoon,’’ Sarah Mae said, sitting across the table.

  ‘‘Friday?’’ Annie wished she hadn’t asked at all, because now Lou was giving her a peculiar look. I haven’t even told Lou about my plans with Ben that night, she thought. Still, she knew she’d have to fill her in sometime. Yet how would she ever get to Susie Esh’s kitchen shower, back home, eat supper, redd up the kitchen, and then out the door in time to meet Ben at dusk?

  ‘‘Not sure I can make it,’’ Annie blurted, not wanting anyone to see the frustration in her eyes. Because she must not let on she was seeing a fellow outside the Fold. Furthermore, she would not, under any circumstances, let Ben down . . . at least not for someone else’s kitchen shower!

  Aware of her family’s curious glances, Annie could hardly wait to get going to Julia’s. Ironing would be piled high, and she was itching to get to work. Since this was Lou’s last day with Courtney, maybe today would be a good time to chat with Esther. I really need to! Annie thought.

  Annie felt glad when Louisa told her after breakfast that she was going to ‘‘connect with Courtney once more.’’ Omar had evidently offered to take Lou over to the B&B where Courtney was staying.

  ‘‘You sure she’ll be up yet?’’ Annie asked, glancing at the clock shelf on the kitchen wall. It was not quite seventhirty.

  ‘‘I can only hope.’’ Lou seemed discouraged.

  ‘‘Well, surely things will go better now that you’ve settled your conflict.’’ Annie didn’t mean any harm, and by the look on Lou’s face, she understood.

  Lou gave Annie a quick hug. ‘‘Thanks for hanging in there.’’

  ‘‘That’s why we’re good friends. We never quit hangin’.’’ Annie laughed softly.

  Omar stood at the back door, smiling and waiting. Lou waved. ‘‘I plan to take Courtney over to the art gallery.’’

  ‘‘Oh, good idea,’’ said Annie. ‘‘To show her your work?’’

  ‘‘That and we need some time to relax together. So I might not make it over to Julia’s at all today.’’

  ‘‘Have fun, and don’t worry none,’’ Annie said. ‘‘I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.’’ And Esther wants to talk privately.

  Lou smiled and headed for the back porch and out the door. Annie strolled to the window and watched her get into the carriage with Omar.

  Don’t let Courtney talk you into going home, dear friend. . . .

  Louisa realized, as she rode in the buggy with Annie’s younger brother, she was no longer the same person who had first come to Amish country. Three months has changed me big time, she thought, judging from her reaction to Courtney’s attitude. Was I ever like that?

  She knew she must have been very similar. Why else would someone like Courtney have appealed to her as a close friend? Truly, she did not have the down-home sort of friendliness exhibited here in the Plain community. Come to think of it, Louisa didn’t recall ever connecting with Courtney as a soul mate. Not the way she did with Annie. A best friend who helped me find myself. . . .

  Suddenly Louisa shivered. She was freezing, even though she’d worn the ‘‘worldly’’ red sweater over her slip and beneath her dress and apron. Like expensive long underwear.

  Perhaps Omar had noticed her shiver, because he spoke up for the first time during the ride. ‘‘Another cold one, jah?’’

  She nodded, smiling. All of Annie’s younger brothers had kept to themselves somewhat since her arrival.

  ‘‘Enjoy the Sunday singings, then?’’ asked Omar.

  Taken off guard, she shrugged, not sure how to answer. She couldn’t know if Omar had seen her and Sam Glick leaving together following the barn singing and dance. She felt strange being asked about it. ‘‘Umm . . . do you?’’

  ‘‘Well, to be honest, I’ve only been goin’ for a short time.’’ He slapped the reins and the horse picked up the pace. ‘‘Turnin’ sixteen is the big thing round here, I guess ya know.’’

  She was waiting for him to say something about the pretty girls lined up on one side of the haymow, or at the long table, when the singing began. But he volunteered nothing.

  ‘‘I’m still figuring out how the Amish community works,’’ she said.

  He chuckled, tilting back his black hat. ‘‘Seems to me an outsider might never understand.’’

  ‘‘Being born into it is the key,’’ she said softly, more to herself than to Omar.

  That really got a laug
h from him. ‘‘Don’t see how anyone could up and join the People without feelin’ like they’ve given up everything important to ’em.’’

  She gleaned that fancy Englishers like her were viewed as putting a higher value on modern conveniences than the tranquility and simplicity Amish life offered.

  She pulled the heavy coat she’d borrowed from Annie more tightly around her, wanting to agree with Omar. She wanted to tell him how amazingly hard it would be if she or anyone from the ‘‘outside’’ decided to abandon electricity forever, or the warmth of a car on a horribly cold day like this—the modern world as a whole. But she figured her thoughts were of no consequence to Omar Zook. They did get her thinking about the adoring gleam in Sam’s eye, however.

  I must be careful not to hurt him . . . or me.

  The Maple Lane Farm B&B came into view as they made the turn. When she got out of the buggy, she looked up at Omar and said, ‘‘It was really nice of you to bring me. Thanks!’’

  He tipped his hat and beamed his appreciation. ‘‘See ya at supper, then?’’

  ‘‘Sure will.’’ Waving, she wondered how it would feel to say her final good-byes to Annie, her family, and Sam . . . when the time came.

  I don’t have to contemplate that now, she told herself, heading up the walkway to the stately inn.

  Later that morning at the Rancks’, James and Molly helped Annie pick up the downstairs bedrooms. Four-yearold James kept talking about his ‘‘new chum, Ben Martin,’’ and Annie wanted to ask the boy why he felt such a connection to the Englischer, but she merely listened.

  When all the toys were stored and organized according to piece and color in the toy box made by their father, Annie dusted the furniture, shook out the braided rugs, dry mopped the hardwood floors, and made sure there were no cobwebs under the beds or dressers or dirt above the wide doorframes.

  Julia was away from the house, assisting a young mother in childbirth, so Annie had not only her cleaning duties to attend to but babysitting besides. And since Esther’s eldest, Laura, was off at the Amish schoolhouse not far from the Ranck home, Esther kept Zach and John busy cutting out snowflake designs at the kitchen table while the baby slept soundly in the borrowed cradle nearby.

  Close to eleven o’clock, Annie stopped her cleaning and helped Esther make grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed up homemade beef barley soup from Julia’s freezer.

  It was after the meal, when the kitchen had been made spotless once again and the children were napping, that Annie sat at the table and talked with Esther as she nursed Essie Ann.

  ‘‘Where’s Louisa today?’’ Esther asked.

  ‘‘With her friend Courtney.’’

  Esther stroked her baby’s cheek, looking down at the cute bundle. ‘‘Are you enjoyin’ having Louisa here?’’

  ‘‘Sure. But some days I wonder if she’s not awful homesick. Seein’ Courtney again has made some things resurface, I’m thinkin’.’’

  ‘‘I daresay it’s been something of a culture shock for Louisa, jah?’’

  Annie smiled. ‘‘Oh, to say the least. But she’s interested in experiencing our ways quite fully. I think she’s done a right good job of blending in here.’’

  ‘‘For now . . . jah.’’

  ‘‘She’s also quite curious about why we do what we do,’’ Annie added.

  ‘‘Well, sometimes I am, too.’’ Esther smiled.

  Annie assumed she meant the probationary shun placed on her for disregarding her responsibility to her husband. So far, there had been no indication that Esther could not fellowship with church members in good standing or others not yet baptized. ‘‘You doin’ all right?’’ she asked. ‘‘What I mean is . . . do you know where you’ll live next?’’

  ‘‘You’re thinkin’ I should go back to Zeke?’’

  Annie was hesitant to say one way or the other. ‘‘Might be wise to let the ministers have their say. . . .’’

  ‘‘Well, word has it I just need to pray more and be more submissive—then Zeke’s temper will be quelled. But I know better, Annie.’’ She stopped to lift her infant onto her shoulder.

  ‘‘So Zeke’s been gruff with you for a long time, then?’’

  ‘‘Ever so long.’’

  ‘‘And it doesn’t matter if you’re completely obedient in every way?’’

  Esther shook her head, eyes tearing. ‘‘He has an affliction in his soul, is all I know.’’

  ‘‘Isaac’s kidnapping?’’

  ‘‘ ’Tis one heavy burden.’’ Esther patted Essie Ann’s tiny hump of a back, then continued. ‘‘But the great burdenbearer is the Lord Jesus, and I pray Zeke might see Christ in me. Somehow . . .’’

  ‘‘Well, who can not see how sweetly long-suffering you are?’’ But she’s always been that way, thought Annie.

  ‘‘I want to be consistently loving, I do.’’

  ‘‘Well, Esther, I know the difference ’tween you and a tetchy woman.’’ Annie thought again of her conversations with both Yonie and Daed. It didn’t seem fair that the men in the community could get by with mistreating their wives, as Esther had indicated. The favoritism annoyed her terribly, but she was determined not to bring it up with Esther just now. Maybe never.

  Esther settled her baby to her other breast and covered herself with a light blanket. ‘‘I found the Lord just in time,’’ she said softly.

  ‘‘What’s that mean?’’ Annie honestly didn’t know.

  ‘‘God’s Word—the Good Book—has become my very food. I was tired, no, actually weary of constantly remembering the sins I committed on a daily basis. Now I am trusting in the Lord’s grace to forgive me of all my transgressions. I can rest in His mercy and love.’’

  ‘‘You feel you need to be forgiven?’’ Annie was bewildered. ‘‘You don’t mean not fulfilling your family duties, do ya?’’

  ‘‘I mean just everything. The little fibs I might be tempted to tell now and then, the anger that comes up in my throat and flies out my mouth . . . the animosity I feel building up in me each and ev’ry day . . . toward my husband ’specially.’’

  ‘‘Really?’’

  ‘‘Him and others.’’

  Annie couldn’t even begin to think who the others were, but at this moment she was eager to resume her work for Julia. Truly, she did not want to prolong this conversation.

  But Esther needed to talk, apparently, so Annie sat still, feeling ever so awkward.

  ‘‘Zeke was never treated right as a youngster, you must surely know.’’

  Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so snippy with his own children, Annie wondered.

  ‘‘He was constantly belittled by his father,’’ Esther said.

  ‘‘After Isaac disappeared?’’

  ‘‘Jah. Even Zeke’s mamma joined in, instilling the notion that the full blame of the kidnapping rested on Zeke’s shoulders.’’

  ‘‘Why on earth?’’

  ‘‘Because Zeke disobeyed his father and left the house to bury Isaac’s puppy that night. He had been told not to go at all. He was bullheaded and took Isaac to witness the dog’s burial.’’

  Annie had heard bits and pieces of this account, but she had never observed such pity as was evident in Esther’s face. ‘‘Do you believe it, too? That Zeke was punished by God for disobeying his father?’’

  ‘‘Oh, it’s hard to say. And Zeke never speaks of that night—’cept in his sleep, that is. I know he’s obsessed with his loss . . . and the fact that he believes Isaac is somehow watchin’ over him, from on high.’’

  ‘‘Well, it’s not like Isaac’s become an angel.’’

  At Annie’s mention of angel, Esther began to weep. ‘‘Zeke’s had so many strikes against him, and here we are apart from each other. By my own doing.’’

  ‘‘You felt you had a reason to leave—it was for your baby’s sake. And now that Essie Ann’s here, have you thought of goin’ back?’’

  Esther sighed, brushing tears from her face. ‘‘Even if I we
re to return to Zeke, I wouldn’t be allowed to share his bed. I’m a shunned woman, ya know.’’

  ‘‘You mean you’re going to keep on sayin’ the prideful things—about salvation through grace ’n’ all—that got all this started?’’

  ‘‘Are you askin’ if I’m gonna hush up ’bout being saved in Jesus’ name?’’ Esther stared into the milky blue eyes of her baby. ‘‘Well, no. I won’t renounce my dear Savior. I wouldn’t think of it, Annie.’’

  She’ll accept what she cannot see over what she can . . .over Zeke and the church?

  ‘‘I best keep my opinion to myself,’’ Annie whispered.

  Esther reached out a hand. ‘‘You don’t have to be put out.’’

  ‘‘I guess I am in some ways . . . you’re making a decision I doubt I could ever make. Or stick by.’’

  ‘‘To open up your heart to the Lord?’’

  ‘‘If you must put it that way.’’

  Esther did not attempt to persuade her otherwise. ‘‘It is a hard path . . . the one the church has set forth. We must come to our own fork in the road, and find God’s Son waitin’ there.’’

  Annie squeezed her hand and released it. ‘‘I can tell you’ve been livin’ here with Julia these days . . . hearing all her blood-of-Jesus talk.’’

  ‘‘But I’m ever so happy, strange as that must sound, even with my future hangin’ in the balance.’’ Esther straightened and looked at her. ‘‘Maybe I’m speakin’ out of turn, but I see a sad sort of look in your eyes when you hold Essie Ann near. And I can’t help but wonder if you might not be longing to be a mother yourself . . . someday.’’

  Annie quickly changed the subject . . . to the attic, where Irvin and Julia had made a special place for Esther and the children to sleep. She missed it terribly—my former art studio. Yet just entertaining the thought of working up there again was not acceptable. No matter, she asked Esther, ‘‘How do you like your little bedroom up yonder?’’

  ‘‘Well, it gets a bit chilly at times, but we sleep with lots of quilts and covers . . . and I even put Essie Ann in with me. It’s not the best setup, but we’re all together and that’s what counts.’’