Arlan dipped corn porridge and scrambled eggs onto his plate. His Mamm set a mug of coffee with milk in front of him. He swallowed a few bites, but despite his hunger the food felt heavy going down, and the coffee was bitter on his tongue. He had to say something.
“Magda’s still not well enough to eat?”
Mamm and Daed made eye contact with each other. “Not yet.”
Mamm pointed upward. “But she’s resting a lot. I expect she’ll be up and about one day soon.”
Was anyone going to state the obvious? “Don’t you think it’s time we take her to a doctor?”
“No, that’s not what she needs,” Mamm said.
Daed scooped another bite of eggs with his fork. “We’re taking care of Magda. This doesn’t concern you, son.”
“But she’s not eating. We’d treat a sick animal if it was acting poorly.”
Daed set down his fork and put both hands on the tabletop. “You don’t understand. And I told you this isn’t your business.” Daed’s tone said the conversation was over.
Arlan had been tempted many times to push back when his Daed gave his final word on a matter, but he never had. The Word made no bones about obeying one’s parents. “Daed, is this the way it will be?”
Daed’s brows furrowed. “Meaning?”
“With Magda. She’s not eating, not well enough to join us for meals. If she’s still this sick in a week, will you feel any different about getting help?”
“Maybe God is judging her, and we won’t interfere.”
“So she’s made her bed, and now she can sleep in it. Is that it?” Arlan could remember Daed repeating that saying a thousand times over the years, even when Arlan and his siblings were trying to obey but made a mistake or something happened by accident.
“That’s right and more than you need to know.”
What was their plan, the one that Magda was crying over and refusing to agree with? Arlan pushed his wooden chair back as he stood, the chair legs scraping the floor. “I’m at least going to take her some food.”
“Fine, but you say nothing about going to a doctor. A little pain and suffering will set her straight. Besides, running off to a doctor for every little thing isn’t our way. You know that.”
Arlan looked at Daed, but he didn’t reply. Oh, he knew their way well. No doctors unless an emergency. No rumschpringe. No indoor plumbing. No rugs. No flashlights. No phone on the property. The no list seemed endless. And parents have the final say in all things until their children marry.
If Arlan could just stick it out until Elam turned twenty-one, he’d have his Daed’s blessing and could move to New York. Without Daed’s blessing he wouldn’t be welcome to join the New York Swartzentrubers. Once there, he and Lorraine could earn the trust of the bishop and marry. Then he’d have his own life. But how could he leave Magda?
He stood and spooned some breakfast onto a plate. Maybe Magda could eat a few bites. The only time anyone in the family had seen a doctor was at a local clinic, and it mostly had midwives and a nurse who prescribed antibiotics for ear infections or bronchitis. He couldn’t take Magda there or to the medicine store without it getting back to Mamm and Daed. The only other place he knew about was an emergency room where Daed had gone when he almost severed a finger. They’d hired a driver to get there. Should he take Magda there? He could drive a horse and buggy without raising suspicion, but he didn’t know where the hospital was. And he wasn’t sure how much care she could receive there without her parents’ permission since she was under eighteen. Suddenly he remembered another place. A different medicine store that his Old Order neighbor had mentioned once.
He carried the plate of food upstairs to Magda’s room and tapped on the door.
“Kumm rei.” Her voice was soft.
The old door creaked as he opened it. Magda was sitting in a wooden rocking chair with a small metal pail in her lap. When she looked up, the thinness of her face shook him. Dark smudges framed her brown eyes, and her lips were pale and chapped. She cringed when she saw the plate in his hands and shook her head. Was the sight of food that repulsive?
He took a step into the room. “Magda, you need to eat.”
“I can’t. Not that stuff at least. I’ve been able to eat a few crackers here and there and drink lemonade. I can at least keep that down sometimes. But please get that out of here.” She gagged.
Arlan walked out of the room and set the plate on the floor to the side of the door. Then he went back inside, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room, pulled up a footstool, and sat close, facing her. “How much food and drink did you have yesterday?”
“Three crackers and a few sips of lemonade.”
Was this all the food she was taking in each day? “That doesn’t sound like enough.”
Magda shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s all I can manage.”
The memory of a ten-year-old Magda handing him a brown bag flashed in his mind. He’d been fifteen and had gotten into a patch of poison ivy while clearing some brush from their land, and it’d blistered badly. Daed determined that the rash wasn’t worth any medicine, but during outdoor chore time while Mamm was weeding the garden, Magda slipped off and cut through fields and woods to walk to a gas station. She used her own money to buy him calamine lotion and cortisone ointment.
And she’d said, “Promise me, Arlan, that we’ll always take care of each other, no matter what. Even if Mamm and Daed are being unfair and won’t listen.”
He closed his eyes and thought of Lorraine: her beautiful eyes sparkling in the evening light during their last buggy ride the night before she and her family left for New York. If he helped Magda, would he jeopardize his standing in the community? Would that cause Lorraine to think less of him, maybe not want to marry him? Fear twisted around his desire to help Magda. He clenched his fists, trying to dispel its power.
He opened his eyes and looked at his sister. “I’m taking you to get some medicine. I’m not sure how much longer you can survive like this.”
“You’d do that for me? I’m not worth—”
“You are.” Regardless of what had gotten her into this situation, it could never change his love for her and her worth both to him and to God. She could seek forgiveness after she was better. And he could too. “Look, to do this, to get you out of here, you have to be willing to disobey Mamm and Daed. Are you willing to do that?”
She gave a slow nod. “Ya, but you’ve always followed what Daed said.”
The weight of his decision to disobey bore down hard. He’d been an obedient son, but after all his years of doing as he was told, had Daed’s heart softened one bit when Arlan asked to get help for Magda? Nee. Maybe his obedience had given Daed an unobstructed path for complete control.
“How?” Magda searched his eyes. “I wouldn’t put it past them to create a wall of men to stop us.”
She wasn’t exaggerating, but he had to find a way. “I don’t know. Give me a few days. We’ll find answers, I promise.”
The medicine store…What did the Englisch call it? A pharmacy, and the one his neighbor had mentioned kept popping into his mind. Did it mean that was where he needed to go? The name had a color in it. Perhaps green. He’d need to get directions and details, but he seemed to remember it was less than an hour away by horse and buggy. He could get her there somehow. Maybe he needed to hire a driver.
Magda’s hands trembled as she brushed hair off her face. “I need more than medicine, Arlan. I need a way out.”
“Out?” Arlan whispered. What had Mamm said? She wants to raise the baby herself? Do they intend to make her give the baby away?
Magda gagged and clasped a wet washrag over her mouth. “Out.” Her head fell back against the chair, and her breathing was labored. “Do you understand?” she mumbled through the cloth.
“I’m starting
to, ya.” His mind spun with ideas, and his heart pounded as if it were trying to leave his chest. He had a few thousand dollars saved. “Okay. We’ll leave together and then give Daed time to cool off and become reasonable. That might take a while.”
Once she had medicine to stop her from throwing up, they could head north. He was able-bodied and skilled at dairy farming. About ten years ago he’d worked for an Englisch neighbor, helping on his dairy farm, and the man had talked about dairy farms north of them. Arlan had learned a lot about farming the Englisch way, so maybe he could get a job on one of those farms, although his Daed had never permitted him to go inside an Englisch home.
He could call home in a few months to see if his parents would let Magda keep the baby. If they refused, he and Magda wouldn’t return until after the baby was born. Then they would beg for forgiveness and work hard to make things right with their parents, church leaders, and district.
Would the new Swartzentruber community in New York welcome him after hearing he had disobeyed his parents?
Did it matter?
He had to do this for his sister.
Three
Ivy hummed an Englisch song over the clippety-clop of her horse’s hooves and the grind of the rig’s wheels. The song had been stuck in her head all morning. She kept her voice low enough that her passengers couldn’t hear.
Where had she heard that song? Perhaps on the radio at Greene’s Pharmacy. Lyle, the owner, had good taste in music. Maybe she would hear the tune while cleaning the pharmacy after she and Holly went out to lunch, but first she had to drop off two sweet young friends—Dora and Eva. She’d miss seeing them after she moved out, but hopefully by then she would have made sure Eva had the medical help she needed.
Holly would approve of that, at least.
Thoughts of Mamm crowded in, and Ivy no longer felt like humming. Her Mamm was one of a kind, and she deserved for Ivy to honor her, but did that mean Ivy needed to give her life over to her Mamm’s faith? Ivy had wrestled with herself for years, trying to fit her round-peg thinking into a square-peg world. But she’d lost the battle. Still, she could figure out a way to change her move-out date for Mamm, couldn’t she?
How hurt would her sister be when Ivy left the Amish? Josh, her fiancé, was openhearted, so Holly and Ivy could stay in contact and remain close. Even so, the thought of how Holly would feel washed more sadness over Ivy. Her decision wasn’t against anyone personally, especially not her family. Far from it.
Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned to smile at Dora. She and her sister Eva were as quiet as the first time Ivy had taken them to and from a cleaning job last fall. Maybe their silence was part of the way they were raised. Even though Ivy, Dora, and Eva were all Amish, Dora and Eva were Swartzentruber Amish. The differences, both large and subtle, between Old Order and Swartzentruber rules were numerous. In fact, it seemed to Ivy that the gulf between the two sects was wider than the distance between Old Order and Englisch.
Dora pointed to the next right. “That’s the shortcut I was telling you about.”
“Sure.” Ivy pulled the reins to turn the horse onto the dirt road Dora gestured to. “You girls did great work today.”
Eva had completed her share of the work cleaning out an Old Order woman’s craft storage building this morning, but Ivy had noticed the girl wheezing each time they’d worked together. Ivy had first met Eva and Dora when she saw them walking along the roadside and stopped to see if they needed a lift. Eva seemed to be struggling to breathe, but she assured Ivy she was fine. When Ivy asked Holly about it, Holly mentioned it was possible the girl had asthma.
Later Ivy asked the girls if they’d like to work for her Mamm’s house-cleaning business, and they had agreed and were really hard workers. But was the girls’ mother aware that medicines were available that might fix this issue? Ivy had shared information with the girls a few times and had sent info home with them, but Holly hadn’t seen them at the pharmacy yet. Still, on the chance that one day their Mamm would ask about the medicine, Ivy kept a brochure for Greene’s Pharmacy and a contact card for the Martel Clinic in her pocket whenever she picked up or dropped off the girls.
She turned the rig onto a dirt driveway and pulled up to the family’s white farmhouse. Ivy signaled to her horse to stop. “Can I pick you up tomorrow, late morning? I have another job lined up, and I could use a few extra hands.”
Eva nodded. “Denki.”
As the girls exited the passenger side, their mother, Sarah, opened the door and was waving at Ivy to come in.
Progress!
She got out and tied her horse to the hitch.
“Will you come in for a moment and have a slice of banana bread and a cup of coffee?”
Ivy smiled. “I’d love to.” Holly would forgive her if she ruined her appetite before their lunch.
Soon she was sitting at Sarah’s table and making small talk. Dora and Eva sliced the bread and poured coffee for the women and then joined them at the table. Two toddler boys with straight blond hair cut just below their ears were peeking around the corner. Ivy smiled and waved at them, and they immediately ran off.
“Denki, Ivy. It’s nice to have some pocket money for the girls. Many mouths to feed, you know.”
Ivy nodded. Even though her own family was small, they’d faced many lean years despite working the dairy farm and also cleaning houses.
“Eva said there’s medicine that might help her breathe easier.”
“There is, but I don’t know anything about it except that it exists. My sister, Holly, does though. How long has Eva’s breathing been difficult?”
Sarah nibbled her lip and looked at the wall a moment before answering, “A year, maybe two. I almost took her to see a doc once, but it’s so expensive, and I don’t want our family to deal with the Englisch more than we have to. It’s never so bad it’s dangerous. She just has to slow down sometimes.”
Ivy reached into her apron pocket. “This is the same information I sent home with the girls one time.” She placed the Greene’s Pharmacy brochure on the table and slid it toward the woman. “My sister works there, and I clean the front of the store. Holly has a passion to make sure the Amish are receiving proper health care. Greene’s is not a typical pharmacy. They’re sensitive, discreet, and give special pricing to Amish or anyone who can’t afford to pay full price.” She placed the Martel Clinic card next to the Greene’s brochure. “And this clinic near the pharmacy is run by a friend. She’s Englisch, but she’s kind and knows our ways.”
Sarah took both items and stared at them. “I’ll think about it.”
“Just consider it, ya? I know you love your children and want the best for them. I think these people can help Eva.”
“Maybe so.”
Ivy finished her snack and thanked Sarah and her girls again.
Wouldn’t Holly be excited if Eva got the needed help? It would be so good to see her young friend breathe easier.
After saying goodbye to the family, Ivy spent the forty-five minutes back to Raysburg thinking mostly about what Holly would say when she told her she was leaving the Amish. For months she’d been bursting at the seams to talk to Holly about leaving, to bare all to her sister. She and Holly had never kept secrets from each other. But Ivy had needed to work through this on her own, and now that she had a plan in place, Mamm had asked her not to tell Holly or anyone else until after the wedding. Could Ivy really keep something this big from her sister?
She hitched her horse in the field the Amish used to park their rigs and gave him some fresh oats. Then she crossed the street into the downtown area. The old-fashioned pharmacy came into view. Was the business doing better? Lyle, the owner, had suffered a stroke last fall, and Lyle’s son, Brandon, had moved home and stepped up as the pharmacist-in-charge.
Tires screeched on a street nearby. How odd. Most drivers in Raysburg went slow
ly, accustomed as they were to the Amish, who drove on the same streets in horses and buggies. She looked up to see a gray, rusty car careening through downtown.
What on earth—
The car was veering back and forth, just missing scrambling pedestrians and cars parallel parked along the street. Ivy ran until she came to a building. She backed against it and had a street lamp and a parked car between her and the rogue vehicle.
They can’t stop.
Her eyes tracked the car, time seeming to slow. Could the driver be aiming for the grassy field she’d come from? But just as the car seemed to be turning that way, a buggy coming toward the car blocked it, and the buggy’s horse reared.
The gray car jerked the other way—straight into a glass window.
Greene’s glass window.
Was this actually happening? Please, God, let everyone be safe! Ivy sprinted to Greene’s.
The beautiful antique front door and windows were smashed into shards of glass and wood. Pieces stuck out from the car’s hood. The vehicle wasn’t moving now.
“Holly!” Ivy stepped over some broken glass. She couldn’t see anyone yet. Please be safe!
“I’m here. I’m okay. We’re all okay.” Her sister’s voice was calm. “No one was in the front of the store.”
Ivy tried to draw on Holly’s peace and the consolation that customers and workers were safe. But what about the poor people inside the car? The car’s windshield was shattered, but it wasn’t collapsing on the passengers inside. For now.
“Are you okay?” she yelled to the driver as she looked in the side window, which was still intact. Her eyes widened. A young Amish man was the driver and, judging by his haircut and style of plain clothes, a Swartzentruber! His beard looked no older than a few days, but it was a sure sign he was married, either not for very long or, like a lot of the younger men, he couldn’t grow much of a beard.
He was looking around as if he was trying to make sense of the situation. “Ya, I’m fine.” His voice was muffled by the door, but his words were clear enough. He seemed to notice his passenger slumped against the opposite side window. “Help her. Help her!” He tried to reach her, but his seatbelt held him in place. He yanked on it, but it didn’t budge.
A Christmas Haven Page 3