Lancaster Hearts (Out of Darkness - Amish Connections (An Amish of Lancaster County Saga))

by Ruth Price

  They did, Judith managing to simply state that she thought learning how to save lives in this way would be a benefit to her people, without specifically talking about her daed's death, a decided relief. Rachel went next, echoing a vague sentiment about wanting to be useful, followed by Isaac who said, “I'm here because Judith was so passionate about it, and I figured this would have to be something worth knowing.”

  Judith stole a glance up at Isaac, touched at his regard. He smiled as their gazes met, and Judith quickly focused her attention back on the group leader, her cheeks a bit warm. When the whole group had finished introducing themselves, Martin handed out mouth protectors, “To keep yourself safe from the transmission of things like Hep B and other diseases,” he explained. “You'll need to carry one of these on your person at all times, as after completing this training, you are required by law to assist should the situation warrant it.”

  “Required by Englischer law,” Rachel squeaked.

  “And by moral law, I wager,” Martin added. “For if you have the skill to help save a life, how can you morally allow yourself to ignore that?”

  Judith nodded, and noted many of the other people around the room did as well.

  After that, he went through the basics of how to use the mouth protector, how to give the two rescue breaths followed where to place the hands for thirty chest compressions.

  “Though we go over the rescue breaths in our training, the most important thing to do is the chest compressions, so if you can't do the rescue breaths, just keep up the chest compressions,” Martin said.

  Judith noted each step, doing her best to sear it to her memory before they were called to practice. What if she mistook the count? What if she didn't tilt the head back properly? The thought of holding someone's life in her hands, of her own competence being the difference between if another human being lived to return to his family, or was returned instead to God's hands perhaps before his life's work had been completed, both humbled and exhilerated her. When the first volunteer was called, she kept her hand down, wanting to observe someone else before venturing on her own.

  The fireman went first, deftly checking the dummy for breath and pulse before tilting his head back and applying the mouth protector before giving two deep breaths that inflated the dummy's chest visibly.

  Martin, the instructor, nodded. “Good job,” he said, as the other man placed his palms in the correct position on the dummy's chest and counting steadily with each depression until he reached thirty.

  “Very good,” Martin repeated. “You've got a good eye, but want you to shake him first, ask if he's okay and see if he can be roused. CPR can be tough on the body, even when done properly, and you don't want to start it unless it's necessary.”

  The fireman nodded and returned to his chair.

  Two more went, a man and a woman, who managed the task with minimal correction. Finally Judith gathered the courage to raise her hand.

  “Of course, Miss Judith,” Martin said. Judith approached the dummy and knelt. She put a palm on each shoulder and shook him. “Are you okay?” Of course there was no response. Faced with the body, the steps fled her mind, and she hesitated.

  “Check for breath and pulse first,” Martin said.

  “Ja,” Judith did as instructed, stating in a high but steady voice, “No breathing. No pulse.” She fumbled with the mouth guard before tilting the head back.

  “A bit more,” Martin said.

  Judith pulled the head back more, terrified at her many mistakes. Her hands shook as she pinched the dummy's nose. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed the air into the dummy's lungs with as much force as she could manage.

  “Good,” Martin said.

  Bolstered, Judith gave the second breath and then straddled the body. Ignoring how immodest it made her feel, with her rear in the air in the tight Englischer trousers, she began to pump at the chest and count. When she reached thirty, she felt the exertion in her arms, and was surprised to note that even in the air-conditioning, sweat trickled inside her collar.

  When she stood, Martin was smiling, “Excellent job, especially for your first time.”

  The praise warmed Judith, and she was grinning as she returned to her chair. When she sat down, Rachel raised her hand immediately next. “May I go?”

  “Of course, miss.” Martin waved her forward. Though Rachel had some difficulty giving the breaths with enough force and then navigating her large skirts to effectively straddle the dummy, she performed the rest with perfect aplomb.

  “Wonderful, as well,” Martin said. “We'd best watch out for the Amish ladies. They'll be putting me out of business, I think.”

  The others around Judith laughed, Rachel raising her hand to cover her mouth with her characteristic giggle. The others went, Isaac last, his expression serious, his grip firm as he went through the steps without a single mistake. Amazed, Judith simply watched. She couldn't help her admiration of Isaac, as much as she wanted to be unaffected. It was even worse now that he'd also shown interest in her pursuits. Though Rachel was likely better suited to him, Judith wanted Isaac for herself, but was her interest in him enough to outweigh everything she was working towards?

  The thought haunted her through the rest of the training. At the end, when they presented her with her certification, she took the sheet of paper with shaking hands. It was a bittersweet victory. With this paper, she had the tools to save a life, and the rightness of that settled on her like a favorite coat. No matter what, Judith would not allow herself to be as helpless again as she had in that cornfield, waving useless air upon her daed's body as she wet his face with useless tears. And yet, while she and Isaac now walked the same road, she couldn't ask him to put aside his own dreams and desires to continue this path with her. Nor could she ask him to wait.

  Holding the certificate like an eggshell in her palm, Judith prayed. Dear God, give me the strength to know what path I must follow, so that I might do your will. And let me be happy, if at all possible, but even if not, let what I've learned help me save another person from losing someone that they love.

  Chapter 8

  Isaac didn't want to be irritated with Rachel. She was a pleasant enough girl, though a bit too forward in her pursuit of a husband. It hadn't helped that Rachel's mamm, a pleasantly chubby woman of about forty with hair the same minted gold as her daughter's, excepting a few gray hairs, thoroughly approved of Isaac, encouraging Rachel to spend as much time as could reasonably be considered appropriate showing Isaac around and making him comfortable. Rachel's daed, a thin, quiet man, seemed a dedicated worker, not coming in from the fields until moments before dinner was served, and then leaving again to tend to the animals as soon as the last bite was eaten. Isaac's daed had helped him after his meeting with the Bishop, but come in early, pecked at his food, and gone to bed before sunset, leaving Rachel with more time to 'entertain' Isaac with stories about the farm and district.

  Isaac laughed at Rachel's jokes a bit before taking care to play with the younger boys and girls, and then going to bed. He knew it was uncharitable, but he wished Rachel hadn't decided to join Isaac for Judith's class. Isaac had been looking forward to talking more with Judith, getting a greater glimpse into the intelligence and passion of the other girl. He'd just wanted to spend time with her. But Rachel had invited herself along, and she kept up a steady stream of chatter that gave no one else room to breathe. Isaac soon found himself falling into silence.

  The class itself had been fascinating. Isaac had been especially impressed with the passion Judith had shown for the work. She'd approached the dummy with deathly seriousness, as though the situation were real, and while she'd made some mistakes in the beginning, her attention to the instructor and to her 'patient' had been remarkable. Her grin upon finishing had also dazzled him. Isaac wondered what it would be like to have that remarkable attention and joy focused on him. Isaac wanted to congratulate Judith, to throw his arms around her in an Englischer style hug, and feel her heat against him.
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  It was almost noon when the class ended, and Isaac's stomach growled as they stepped out of the air-conditioned center onto the street.

  “That was remarkable,” Isaac said, placing the mouth protector in the pocket of his trousers.

  “Can you hold mine also,” Rachel asked, placing hers in his palm. “I don't have pockets.”

  Isaac took the package and pushed it into his opposite pocket.

  “So where shall we have lunch?” Rachel asked, spinning once so that her skirts swirled around her ankles.

  Isaac looked at Judith, “What do you recommend?”

  “There's a nice cafe up this way,” Judith gestured ahead of her. “I often have lunch there when I'm studying. It's not expensive.”

  Isaac nodded. “That sounds good. Rachel?”

  “It's fine.” Rachel said. They started walking. The street was wide enough that all three could walk side by side. The buildings, mostly shops, had their doors firmly shut against the heat. Rachel fanned herself with her hand, her gaze flitting from window to window. “It's so nice to be in town. I admit, I don't often have occasion to go. I've been so busy helping my mamm out with her work in the house. It's important to learn all of the skills to become a good wife, don't you think Judith?”

  “Ja,” Judith said. “I suppose it is.”

  “Well, if you're thinking to get married. Not everyone does. And with your love of learning, you'd make an excellent teacher.”

  Judith's expression grew darker, her dark brows lowering as she breathed in once through her nose. “I don't think I want to be a teacher,” she said in a very even tone. “What would you do, if you weren't a wife and mamm?”

  Rachel blinked. “I--I don't--”

  A family of tourists walked towards them: mamm, daed and two kinner all red-headed. One of the kinner, a little boy who looked to be about nine, pointed at Rachel and asked his brother who stood a head taller and looked to be about eleven-years-old, “Lee, she's Amish, isn't she?”

  “Shhh...” the mamm pulled her son's hand down, and with bright red cheeks said, “I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be rude.”

  “It's fine,” Rachel said. She knelt at the boy's feet until their eyes were at the same level. “Yes, I am Amish, and my name is Rachel.”

  Rachel extended her hand and the boy, with a look up at his mamm for permission, shook it. “M'name is Jake,” the boy mumbled. “Nice t'meet you.”

  “You too,” Rachel said brightly. The older boy, Lee, also shook Rachel's hand. He had a guidebook under left arm. “Dankee,” he said, shyly. “That's right, isn't it?”

  Rachel laughed. “Yes, that is. Gutt, gutt. That means good.”

  Lee nodded. “I learned from this book,” he said, holding up his book, a tourist guide to Amish country.

  “That's very good.”

  “And we're not supposed to take pictures of you because that's rude,” Lee added.

  Rachel nodded. “Danki.”

  The family passed, and they kept walking to the corner. Isaac was impressed with how Rachel had handled the children. “You have a gift,” he said.

  Rachel grinned, the wideness of it bringing dimples to her cheeks. “I've always liked kinner.”

  “And you're good with them.”

  “I suppose if I wasn't planning to be a mamm and have my own farm, I'd do some work with kinner,” she said.

  “Then maybe you should be the teacher,” Isaac suggested. “I expect you'd be quite good at it.”

  “Oh, I've no desire to spend my days squinting at books,” Rachel said lightly. “I need the open air. I'd actually been thinking of doing an extended trip for my Rumspringa. I've been saving from my earnings with jewelry. Englischers can't get enough of handcrafted jewelry and the like. I've been going with my mamm when she sells her canned jams.” Rachel slowed, and leaning closer to Isaac said, “Took me nights and nights to bead up a hundred necklaces, but they sell really well. Genuine Amish craftwork. I've made close to a five hundred dollars.”

  “Wow!” Isaac exclaimed, though he wasn't sure how he felt about the idea. “They know such finery is against our Ordnung?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I keep the stones simple. Besides, they're not members of our religion, so they can wear what they like.”

  They reached the cafe and after ordering sandwiches, took the table nearest the wide bay window overlooking the street. The table was long and short, made of a dark wood that was scuffed around the edges. Isaac made quick work of his sandwich, something Italian with mozzarella and pesto, while Judith and Rachel ate at a more measured pace.

  “Judith,” Rachel began after they'd eaten for a bit. “It must have been difficult for you, in that class, considering what happened.”

  Judith shook her head. She cupped a coffee in her hands. “I'm just so glad. I hope we can teach others too. The more of us know, the more of us can help if it comes to that. Just doing the thirty seconds was so tiring.”

  “Do you think you'll be able to do it though, if someone actually does take ill?”

  “I will.”

  “But when do you stop, that was the one thing I didn't understand.”

  “Stop,” Judith ventured. “Why would you stop?”

  “Well, eventually, the situation returns to God's hands, don't you think? It can take even a half hour to get to a phone sometimes, and then the time it takes for the Englischer ambulance come. Isn't it presumptuous of us to just keep going in that situation?”

  “I don't...” Judith stared down at her hands.

  “What do you think, Isaac?”

  “I don't know either,” Isaac said. They said it can take a while, which is why it's better to have more people trained, to take turns.”

  “Yes, but what happens then?” Rachel asked, her voice as serious as Isaac had ever heard. “So, the Englischers take whoever it is to a hospital, but his soul has passed, but the body remains, just going on. I think that would be worse than just giving the body to God from the start.”

  “Maybe...” Isaac took a large gulp of his coffee. The processed Englischer milk did little to mask the bitterness of the brew. “I'm not sure. I suppose I'd have to pray.”

  “I wouldn't stop.” Judith said, her voice quiet and intense. “I couldn't.”

  Rachel's eyes widened. “You'd take that power from God?”

  “No,” Judith said. Her fingers were tight around her coffee cup. “I just couldn't stop. I think God would want me to keep trying, and if He call one of his children back, then it wouldn't matter what I did.”

  Isaac admired both women. Though he had no interest in having Rachel as a wife, he was confident she would make an excellent one. Judith, on the other hand, seemed to have a calling different from what Isaac expected of an Amish woman. It drew him to her, even as he wondered if he would ever be able to make a place in her life.

  “What are you studying this afternoon?” Isaac asked, as much to lighten the mood as to learn a bit more about Judith.

  “Mostly Englischer high school courses,” Judith explained. “Higher math, science, literature, it's all really interesting. My adviser really wanted me to join in with the actual high-school, with other students my age, but I started out a bit behind, and what with my job, it just wasn't feasible.”

  “You work nights?”

  “Mondays through Thursdays at the hospital. Cleaning, but I get to talk with the nurses.” Judith gave a small smile. “They've shown me a lot about what they do.”

  “Do you think you might want to be a nurse?” Rachel asked.

  “I don't know,” Judith said. “If I was to do that, I'd need Englischer college, and then I wouldn't be able to...”

  “Well, if you're suited to it,” Rachel said, a bit too quickly. “You should do it! I think maybe God has called you to this.”

  Judith nodded. “I don't know. I've always wanted to help our community. College would be exciting, but I don't want to forget my home. And I would like to get married.”

  “Well, y
ou can't be the wife of an Amish man if you're off getting an Englischer education,” Rachel declared.

  “Ja.” Judith seemed to shrink into herself all the more, her shoulders slumped, her gaze focused on the coffee in her hands. “Ja, I know,” she said.

  “Any man would be lucky to marry you,” Isaac blurted out.

  Judith glanced up, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of shock and amazement. “Really?”

  “Well of course,” Rachel cut in, her voice sharp, a sour expression marring her general good cheer. “That's not the point. It's more, to be an Amish woman, your role is to tend to house and kinner not go haring off in the Englischer world, no matter how beneficial your work might be.”

  That was the same attitude Isaac's daed also had, and Isaac admitted, one most of his friends shared, but did that mean he had to live his life by their rules? He didn't want their idea of a suitable Amish woman. He wanted Judith.

  “I think there might be room for both,” Isaac said.

  Judith was smiling now, the same shine of joy in her that he'd seen when she walked away from the dummy after having learned how to save a life.

  “You do? Ja...I want that...”

  Isaac steeled his courage. He'd been drawn to Judith from the moment they'd met, and there was no reason to deny either of them to chance to see if they were suited to each other, just to please his daed. Yes, Isaac wanted a plain life. He found joy in his craft of wood, the same joy he'd seen when Judith spoke of her studies, or the passion she'd shown for healing. Placing his hand on the table between them, he said, “If it isn't too much trouble, may I have the honor of courting you.”

  “Ja!” Judith's assent was loud enough that a pair of woman at the table beside them stopped talking and looked. With eyes shining, Judith released her coffee and took his offered hand. “I would be honored also! I mean, ja...yes!”

  “I'll pray for you both,” Rachel said with a sigh. She leaned back on her chair, shaking her head. “Heaven knows you'll need it.”

  Isaac couldn't help but nod in agreement. Now he had only to figure out how best to tell his daed, and weather the storm of ice and silence that came after. Still, Isaac's grip was firm as he held Judith's hand. He had chosen his path, and he would follow it as a man did, making the best decisions for himself and those he loved.