by Beth Wiseman
“We need to call the police. I’ll do it from the barn because my cell’s dead.” Shelby turned to leave the room.
“No, Shelby.” Rebecca’s voice shook, but the tone was firm. “We have no proof, and it’s God’s will. Perhaps whoever took the money needs it more than us.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Shelby glanced at Miriam, recalling how her cousin said she overused the phrase, but in this case, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “God’s will? Are you saying that it’s God’s will for you to be robbed by people in your own home? People you served dinner to. You need to call the bed-and-breakfast where they are staying, let the owner know, then call the police.”
Rebecca just shook her head, but she finally said, “I will call Barbie Beiler because she needs to know that someone in that group took things from our home. She needs to know that since those folks are guests at her place.”
“Mamm, the only one who went this way was Rhoda. Where would she have put the letter opener? The cash she could put in her blue jean pockets, but not the letter opener.” Miriam turned to Shelby. “The letter opener was long, maybe seven or eight inches long.”
“In her sock,” Shelby answered without hesitation, ashamed that she knew where the woman would conceal something she’d stolen. “She had on tennis shoes. . . and socks. She probably put it in her sock.” Shelby’s past flashed before her—a trip to the police station, a stolen necklace. She took a deep breath as she recalled how easy it was to steal the silver chain from the rack at the department store. Or so she’d thought. That’s how it is when you’re high—a false reality. Shelby was forced to watch the security tape later when she wasn’t under any influence, and she’d cried hard, begging her parents for forgiveness. The department store went easy on her, but forgiveness never came from her parents.
Who was I back then? She wondered if she would be released from the guilt she felt about her shoplifting, especially now as she watched Rebecca close the door and dab at her eyes.
Shelby followed Miriam and Rebecca to the kitchen.
“I still think we need to call the police.”
Rebecca walked to the table and began clearing the dessert plates. “No, Shelby. I will call Barbie from the phone in the barn, but not the police.”
Shelby put her hands on her hips. “Rebecca, this just isn’t right. We know who took that money, and this isn’t God’s will.”
Maybe it was the way she said “God’s will,” but Rebecca’s expression turned sour quickly. “Everything that happens is God’s will.” She lifted her chin and sniffled. “I’d like no further talk of this.”
Shelby glanced at Miriam, then sighed. “Okay.” She walked to the sink and started placing the dishes in soapy water. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Rebecca grabbed a towel and accepted a washed plate from Shelby. “You didn’t upset me, Shelby. It upsets me that folks would come into our home and do this, but instead of calling the police, we handle things a bit different. We will pray for them every day and hope that they will find their way to God, and we’ll ask God to forgive them for this.”
Shelby momentarily wondered if anyone had prayed for her when she was making bad choices.
“I’m not praying for them.” The words slipped out, and it was too late for Shelby to take them back. She glanced at Rebecca, then at Miriam. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
By Saturday afternoon Miriam couldn’t stop thinking about her date with Saul.
“You never did tell me why you and your mother were grinning last night when that woman said wunderbaar gut.” Shelby ran the sweeper across the wooden floors in their bedroom.
“Because Amish folks don’t really say that.” She laughed. “Unless we’re being funny, or making fun of the Englisch for saying it. The Englisch seem to think we say that all the time, but we don’t.”
Shelby just nodded, then she leaned the sweeper up against the wall. “Are you excited about your date?”
Miriam’s insides warmed. “Ya. I am.”
“What date?”
Miriam spun around at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Uh. . . I meant to tell you. . . I have a date with Saul tonight. We’re going to eat after I run my weekly errands in town.” She held her breath when she saw the pained look on her mother’s face, a squinting of her eyes as she pressed her lips together.
“Miriam, Shelby has just been here a week, and I don’t think you should be off on a date when your cousin is—”
“It’s okay, Rebecca.” Shelby plopped down on her bed. “I’m fine. Really.”
Miriam smiled at Shelby, then turned back to her mother. “See?” She raised her brows and waited.
Mamm shook her head. “Not tonight, Miriam. I need to wait another week or so before you make the weekly run to town, until I have—have more money.” She held up a finger the way she was known to do when Miriam opened her mouth to argue. “And there might be a storm coming later. It’s best you stay home tonight.”
Miriam felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. “But, Mamm. . . I already told Saul that I would meet him in town. I don’t have any way to tell him I can’t be there.”
“I’m sure the Fishers have a phone in their barn like everyone else.” Mamm slapped her hands to her sides. “Please, mei maedel, don’t argue with me. This is just not a gut night for you to be going out.”
Miriam took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She didn’t say anything but nodded.
When she heard her mother’s footsteps going down the stairs, she turned to Shelby. “That is not fair.”
“Maybe your mom just can’t accept that you are plenty old enough to date.” Shelby leaned back on her elbows. “I remember when I went on my first date when I was sixteen. I thought my dad was going to have a heart attack about it.”
Miriam sat down on her own bed and faced Shelby. “She doesn’t think Saul is right for me. I’m sure that’s it.” She leaned back on her palms. “She just doesn’t know him very well. He’s quiet around most people, and. . . he’s been in a little trouble before. Nothing serious. But I think Mamm thinks he just isn’t the right person for me.” She sat up again. “But that is not her choice.”
“Maybe your parents are worried that Saul will leave and that you will get your heart broken, or worse yet. . . that you’ll leave with him.”
Miriam shook her head. “Saul isn’t leaving. Those are just gossipy rumors.”
“I hope so, for your sake.” Shelby rolled onto her side, then propped herself up on one elbow. “So are you going to go call Saul?”
Miriam thought for a few moments before she answered. “Ya.”
“It’s a shame you have to cancel, but maybe you can reschedule for another time.”
“Ach, I’m not canceling.” She grinned at Shelby. “I’m just going to tell him that I will meet him at nine thirty. After my parents are asleep.” She tucked a loose strand of hair beneath her kapp. “This is Saul Fisher. I have been waiting for this night my entire life. I am not going to miss it.”
7
SAUL LISTENED TO MIRIAM’S MESSAGE TWICE, JUST TO make sure he’d heard her correctly. He didn’t understand why she wanted to meet so late at night, but that might be better anyway. He could make sure Daed was sound asleep by the time he left, and he wouldn’t have to worry about there being trouble while he was gone. After his father’s outburst a few days before, the rest of the week had gone fine. No drinking. And as Saul had suspected, his father never brought that night up. He merely went to the fields earlier on that day, and he stayed out working later. . . well past the supper hour. Saul wondered what time his father would come in tonight.
Saul had prayed extra hard every night that his father would stop drinking, and every night he would read his employment offer and ask God if he was doing the right thing by leaving his family and friends, particularly about leaving his brothers. He thought about the speedy response he’d sent to the owner of the bistro, and the
way his hand had shook as he wrote the letter.
He pulled the lever on the water pump until the cool water splashed at his feet, then he ran his hands underneath. He caught a glimpse of his brothers as they walked toward the barn. James would collect eggs from the hens while Ruben brushed down the horses. Saul knew they were both going to be fine. They were strong and levelheaded. They have to be fine.
He strolled into the house, tired from a hard day’s work in the fields but excited about his date with Miriam. Just the thought of holding her hand or putting his arm around her at the movies gave him a burst of energy he wouldn’t normally have this time of day. When Saul walked into the den, his father was pulling off his work boots.
“It was a hot one today, no?” Daed dropped into his chair by the window, then fumbled for his glasses on the table next to him. Once he had the gold-rimmed glasses situated on his nose, he reached for The Budget.
Saul pulled off his own shoes, hung his hat on the rack, then let his suspenders drop to his sides. He sat down on the couch across from his father, one of the best men he’d ever known in his life. Daed was strong in his faith, and he went out of his way to help others. He just had this one problem. Saul leaned back against the couch, wishing he had the courage to tell his father about his plans in Pittsburgh. Since Saul hadn’t been baptized yet and wouldn’t face a shunning, maybe Daed would bless Saul’s choices. He didn’t realize he was staring until his father looked over the top of the newspaper at him.
“Something on your mind?” Daed pushed his reading glasses down on his nose.
If you only knew. Saul shook his head. “No, not really.” His father seemed to be waiting for more. “I’ll be going out later. I’m taking Miriam Raber for a late supper.”
His father nodded as he pushed his glasses up and returned his eyes to the paper. “Gut folks, the Rabers.” He lowered the newspaper. “Think she might be the one you’ll settle with?”
Guilt tugged at Saul’s heart as he shifted his weight. “I dunno.” He leaned his head back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. He should never have set this date with Miriam.
But being with her was all he could think about.
Miriam closed the bedroom door behind her, then whipped the towel from her head. She leaned down and began to dry her hair in front of the small fan on the nightstand.
“What’s that smell?” Shelby closed her pink book, locked it, then dropped the key in her purse like she always did, and Miriam wondered if she was writing about happier thoughts.
“It’s vanilla lotion.” Miriam held her arm up for Shelby to sniff. “I bought it at the market a few weeks ago.”
“You smell like a candle.” Shelby reached into her purse. “Here, try this. It’s perfume, and you’ll smell much better to Saul wearing this.”
Miriam reached for the glass bottle. “Thank you, Shelby.”
Shelby sat up and crossed her legs beneath her. “Miriam, sneaking out like this will only get you in trouble down the line, in one way or another.” She shook her head. “Trust me. I know. Plus. . . don’t you think your parents will hear you sneaking out? Those steps creak.. . . Then you’ll have to hitch up the horse. They’ll hear you leaving.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Do the Amish ground their kids? Because if so, I can already see you getting grounded for a long time.”
“Ya, we get punished. But no worries. I have everything covered.” Miriam knew her hair would never be completely dry by the time she needed to leave, so she wound it atop her head, then secured her prayer covering. She turned to Shelby. “Have you seen that huge fan in Mamm and Daed’s room? It’s run by the generator, and that thing is so loud that Mamm and Daed don’t hear anything outside of their bedroom. They’ll never hear the steps creak, and they won’t hear me leaving.”
“This has trouble written all over it, Miriam. I don’t think you should go.”
Miriam folded her arms across her chest. “Why? I’m not going to get caught. And I’m not exactly lying either.”
Shelby twisted her mouth from side to side for a moment, then she sat up and dropped her legs over the side of the bed. She leaned closer. “Miriam, I kinda got in some trouble back home.”
Miriam knew this, but she’d never known what kind of trouble. She eased her hands into her lap and folded them together. “What kind of trouble?”
Shelby took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “After my parents’ divorce, and after Tommy broke up with me, I was sneaking out. . . and doing some things I shouldn’t have done.”
Miriam waited a moment to see if Shelby was going to share any details, but she didn’t. “Saul is a wonderful person. My parents just don’t know him, and they’re judging him. . . My mother is, anyway. And Mamm knows that only God can judge.”
Shelby let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe, Miriam. But I was running around with some people that my parents didn’t like, and they ended up dragging me into a bunch of stuff that wasn’t good for me.”
“Have you heard from your parents?” Miriam wanted to change the subject.
Shelby frowned. “Your mom said my mom left a message on the phone in the barn day before yesterday, saying that she couldn’t get hold of me on my cell.” Shelby rolled her eyes. “Duh. My cell phone has been dead, and Mom should know that.” She raised one shoulder, then dropped it slowly as she spoke. “Whatever. Obviously, my mother wasn’t in that big of a hurry to check on me.”
Miriam didn’t understand much about divorce, but she could tell that Shelby was bitter, and she hoped that her cousin would reach out to God for comfort. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m mad at my parents for getting a divorce, for ruining my life. But if they did anything right, it was pulling me away from the kids I was running around with before they shipped me here.” Shelby turned away from Miriam and looked at the wall. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled to come here.” She turned to Miriam. “I’m sorry. It’s just that everything is so different. I don’t really know anyone. And I figured it would be like this. But. . . I do have to say. . . I was running around with a pretty rough crowd, and I was sneaking out all the time. Looking back, I should have made smarter choices, even if things were really bad at home.”
“Saul is a gut man. The best. When Mamm and Daed get to know him, they’ll see that.”
“I hope you’re right. But I’m going to get my two cents in, and I don’t think you should be sneaking out at nine o’clock at night to go meet someone. It’s not safe.”
“Around here it is.”
“How can you say that? Just yesterday a woman stole from your home.” Shelby shook her head. “The world is not a safe place, Miriam. And your people aren’t exempt just because they are Amish and live in the country.” She paused. “And your mom said there might be a storm. Please don’t go.”
Miriam was touched by Shelby’s concern. “I feel like we’re sisters right now.” She smiled. “But no worries. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve snuck out of my house.”
Shelby stiffened. “Huh?”
Miriam giggled. “I’m eighteen, Shelby. I’ve been in my rumschpringe for two years.”
“But this is your first date?” Shelby’s voice rose an octave as she spoke.
Miriam shrugged as she smiled. “That’s just because I’ve been waiting for Saul. But I’ve snuck out to meet Leah and Hannah before.”
“What in the world for?”
Miriam wasn’t proud of her actions, but she wanted Shelby to stop worrying so much. “There was a country gospel band playing at a restaurant in Lancaster. That rarely happens, and we wanted to go. We all felt like our parents would forbid it because it was on a Thursday night and the music didn’t start until ten o’clock.” She shrugged again. “So we snuck out, met on Lincoln Highway, then walked to town and called a taxi cab.”
“Did you get caught?”
“No.” Miriam looked down for a moment. “I felt kinda bad about it, though.”
“Trust me. You’ll probab
ly feel bad about this too, but I can see that you’re determined to go.” Shelby leaned over the side of the bed and reached into her purse. “Here.” She pushed her cell phone and cord toward Miriam. “Plug it in somewhere when you get to the restaurant. Even thirty minutes will give you a little bit of a charge, and at least you’ll have it on your way home, just in case you get into any trouble. I’m going to write in my journal some more for a while. I’ll leave the window open so maybe I can hear the phone ringing in the barn if you need to call for something.”
Miriam latched onto the phone, then took a deep breath. She had on her best green dress and black apron, and she smelled like orchids. Tonight was going to be the best night of her life.
It was nine o’clock when Shelby watched Miriam from the window. Her cousin seemed to be right. It appeared she was going to make a clean getaway. She waited until she saw Miriam maneuver the buggy onto the street before she climbed into bed. As she kicked back the quilt and tucked herself beneath the sheet, she felt an overwhelming urge. She leaned back against her pillow, then closed her eyes.
God, are You there?
She waited, not expecting an answer but not sure whether to go on.
I was wondering if maybe You could keep an eye on my cousin tonight. She’s rather naive, and I don’t want to see her get into any trouble. I think Saul is probably a good person, but sneaking around is never a good thing and can lead to other trouble. I should know.
Shelby opened her eyes and stared upward at the twinkling lights from the lantern, the smell of perfume still lingering in the air. She closed her eyes again.
I wish I knew why I’m being punished.
She paused.
Never mind. I know why. For the bad stuff I did. When will my penance be over? When will I feel happy again? Please, Lord. Please . . .
As she figured, no guidance came drifting into her mind, and her glimmer of hope was quickly replaced by anger. When she thought about the fellowship she used to feel when she went to church with her parents and the one-on-one connection with God she once had, her bitterness only escalated. Her parents had ruined her life in every way. Not only did they stop loving each other, but they’d stopped going to church. Shelby knew she was a grown woman, and she certainly could have gone to church on her own, but what was the point? God didn’t care what happened to her, and all those years of praying and trying to live the right way hadn’t served her well.