by Beth Wiseman
Saul took a deep breath. He could see where this was going. Despite Jesse’s earlier comments, he was going to haul Miriam off to the other side of the pond.
“I say Shelby and me against you two.” Jesse pointed to Miriam and Saul.
Saul tried not to show his surprise and looked at Miriam, who was smiling broadly. “Okay,” he said. “Miriam?”
“Ya. I’m pretty sure me and Saul can catch more fish than the two of you!”
Saul was glad to see Jesse grab Shelby’s hand, then pull her toward the other end of the pond. “May the best couple win!”
Miriam wanted nothing more than to be alone with Saul, but there was an uncomfortable feeling that emerged inside of her when she saw Jesse and Shelby skipping off happily together. She wanted to be with Saul, so it seemed strange that she would feel this way. If it hadn’t been for Shelby telling her that Saul was leaving, Miriam knew she never would have thought about life outside of their district. Now she kept thinking of all the possibilities that would be available to her if she did leave. She’d always wanted to be a teacher here, but her mother had said that she was more suited for marriage and family. In the Englisch world, maybe she could have both? She’d always thought there was plenty of time to get to know Saul better, but time was no longer on her side. One thing she knew for sure. . . she couldn’t imagine her life here without him in it.
But what if Saul has no plans to ask me to leave with him? Then Jesse might already be with . . . Shelby? No. That doesn’t make sense either. Shelby is Englisch.
Her uneasiness calmed when she felt Saul’s hand on her back. “Here, I got your pole ready.” He offered her the pole with a wiggling worm dangling from the hook, then held his other palm toward her. “And ya. . . I know you could have done it yourself, but I was just helping.”
“Danki,” she said as she accepted the pole. She liked that he recognized her independence but also acted as a gentleman every time he was around her.
As the afternoon sun beat down on them, Miriam wondered if maybe they shouldn’t have planned this so late in the day. She reached up and wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. Next thing she knew, she felt a breeze on her face along with a shower of ice cold water. “Wow!” She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation.
“I found these at the market in Bird-In-Hand when I was there this past week. I got one for you, since I knew we were going fishing.”
Miriam accepted the battery-operated fan that, with the push of a button, also sprayed cold water. She turned it and pushed the button until the icy droplets were sprinkling Saul’s face. “I like this,” she said as she pulled it back her way. “Danki.”
“I put some ice cubes in it before we came.”
Miriam took her pole and her new fan and sat down on a stump near the edge of the water. Saul took a seat right next to her, causing her to jump. “This okay?” he asked.
She nodded, then tossed her line into the water.
“So what’s in the chicken salad?” He grinned, and as Miriam turned to face him, their lips couldn’t have been farther than six inches apart. She faced forward again.
“Uh, it’s, uh—” She couldn’t think.
“It almost tasted like lemon pepper?”
Miriam breathed a sigh of relief. “Ya. That’s it.” She didn’t look at him but tried to stay focused on her line in the water. She picked up her fan, turned it on, and held down the button until cool water showered her face again.
“How ’bout a little of that this way?” Saul’s leg brushed against hers as he shifted his weight to face her. Miriam pointed the fan toward his face. “Ah. . .”
She watched him close his eyes, enjoying the cool water. When he opened his eyes, he latched onto the fan, covering her hand, then turned it back toward her. After a few moments, he gently eased it down, then turned it off. Miriam tried not to look at him, but when his hand cupped her chin and he turned her toward him, she felt herself shaking. She’d never been kissed. And the moment was upon her. She’d always dreamed that Saul would be her first kiss. As his lips drew near hers, she watched him close his eyes, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own and remained wide open. With a jerk, she pulled away from him.
“Are you leaving here, Saul?”
Saul let out a heavy sigh, then scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? Shelby said you told her that you were leaving.”
“That was my plan, but now I’m not sure.”
Miriam’s insides warmed. It’s because of me that he’s not leaving. She felt a smile cross her lips. “Oh,” she said.
“I have something to ask you too.” Saul backed up a bit but was still facing her. “Did you sneak out to meet me Saturday night. . . without telling your folks?”
Miriam avoided his accusing eyes as she twisted her mouth from side to side. “Ya.”
Saul shook his head. “Please don’t do that again, Miriam. Your parents won’t want me being around you if they think I’m getting you to do stuff like that. We’ll see each other when it’s okay with your parents.”
Miriam nodded, glad there was a mention about seeing each other again but not sure it would really be okay with her parents.
“Why would you leave here, Saul?” She eased away from him a little and faced him, still sitting on the stump.
His eyes averted hers, and he sighed. Then he looked up grinning. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“No.” Then she giggled as she raised her palm to him. “Ya. I promise. I won’t laugh.”
He pulled his hat off and scratched his forehead. “I have a job offer to work in a fancy restaurant in Pittsburgh.” Saul paused when Miriam’s eyes widened. “I’d be the apprentice chef.” He looked hard into Miriam’s eyes. “I answered an ad in the newspaper, and then I went and cooked some of my recipes for the owner.” Saul shrugged. “It’s a great opportunity for me, and I really want to go, but. . .” He sighed again.
Miriam smiled, her heart warm, yet frightened at the same time. She knew she’d go anywhere with Saul, especially now that he was willing to forgo leaving because of her. “Don’t worry, Saul.”
Tense lines formed across his forehead. “There is much to worry about,” he said as he put his hat back on.
Miriam wanted to ease his pain. Even though there would be strife and upset in the community, she wanted him to know how she felt.
“I’ll go with you, Saul. So please don’t change your mind because. . . because of me.” She looked toward the ground, stifling a smile.
Saul jumped up from the stump they were sitting on and looked down at her, his face drawn into a scowl. “What?” He put his hands on his hips. “What? If I go, you can’t go with me, Miriam.”
10
SAUL CHASED AFTER MIRIAM AS SHE RAN TOWARD THE buggies. He felt like a louse, but he’d be even more of a louse if he asked Miriam to leave her family and all that she’s ever known behind.
“Miriam, wait!” He finally caught up with her and grabbed her arm so she’d stop. Tears spilled from her eyes, and with little thought, except that he couldn’t stand to see her cry, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed the tears on her face. “Please, Miriam. Please don’t cry,” he whispered. When his lips finally met with hers, he kissed her softly, and when she kissed him back, something inside of Saul made him want to beg her to go with him if he left, but nothing could be more selfish. He eased away from her. “I’m sorry I made you cry.” He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, then pulled her into his arms.
“I am such a dummkopp.” Her body shook as she choked out the words, her face buried in his chest. “I should have known that you didn’t feel the same way I do.”
He gently pushed her away. “Is that what you think, Miriam? I’ve liked you since we were kinner.” He kissed her again. “But I would never ask you to leave your family and your friends. Never.”
She sniffled as she gazed into his eyes, and Saul wanted to drop to one knee rig
ht there in the old Zook front yard.
“I thought you had changed your mind about leaving our community because of me,” she squeaked out as she started to cry again. “And I wanted you to know that I would go with you, if that were the case.” She stepped back from him and stomped her foot. “I’m such a dummkopp!” she repeated even louder this time.
Saul pulled his eyes from hers as he rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t tell her the real reason he might not be able to go, but her willingness to follow him certainly gave him cause for speculation—Would she really go with me? He could envision a life with Miriam. But just as quickly the image faded. Ruben and James. He couldn’t leave his brothers, not with their father like this. “You’re not a dummkopp, Miriam. Please don’t say that.”
“I want to go home, Saul.” She swiped at her eyes, and Saul saw Jesse and Shelby heading their way. “I’m embarrassed, and I want to go home.”
“Miriam, you don’t understand.”
“Ya. I do.” She moved toward her buggy. Saul followed her.
“I can’t ask you to leave here.”
She faced him, her cheeks stained with tears, and she spoke softly. “No. It appears you can’t.”
Jesse walked up on them, Shelby trailing behind. “What’s going on?” Jesse nudged Saul out of the way and put his hand on Miriam’s arm. “Miriam, what is it?”
“It’s nothing, Jesse.” She sniffled again, and Saul didn’t think he could feel any lower.
Shelby charged ahead, pushing Jesse out of the way. “Miriam, what’s wrong?” She didn’t wait for an answer but instead balled her hands into fists at her sides, moving closer to Saul. He backed up. “What did you do to her?”
“Shelby, he didn’t do anything.” Miriam grabbed her cousin’s arm. “Come on, we need to get home.”
Saul opened his mouth to say something, but everyone was glaring at him. “I’m sorry.” It was all he knew to say.
Saul pulled into his driveway, and his stomach began to ache the way it always did. Who would he come home to? Which father would greet him?
However, when he saw Ruben and James happily playing basketball, his fears subsided.
He parked the buggy, then hollered, “Can one of you put Rascal in the barn? I’ll go get supper started.” He paused as he wrapped the reins around the post. “Everything okay?”
Both boys nodded, and Ruben started to make his way toward the horse and buggy. Saul walked inside. His father was sitting in his chair, reading the Bible. “Wie bischt, Daed?”
His father took off his reading glasses. “Gut, gut. I finished the last of the planting, and. . .” Daed smiled. “I took off early.”
Saul let out a huge sigh of relief. This was the man he knew and loved, not the monster trapped in a way that Saul couldn’t understand. “Gut for you, Daed. You work hard and deserve to take off early.” Saul hung his hat on the rack by the door. “I’ll go get supper started.”
“Sohn, can we talk?”
Saul held his breath for a moment. “Sure.”
His father motioned for Saul to sit down on the couch across from him. “I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’ve made arrangements to have a hundred acres deeded to you. That way when you find a fraa, you’ll already have the land to build on. How does that sound? It’s the acreage on the north side of the house. There’s plenty of room for your own planting, and a house would be perfect up on the hill out there.”
Daed smiled, and Saul knew that this was his father’s way of apologizing for recent events. Saul could see his dream slipping further and further away, and he was still confused about Miriam and her willingness to leave the community to be with him. Does she care about me that much?
“Danki, Daed,” Saul finally said as he forced a smile.
“Tomorrow we’ll walk the land, see what you think, and where might be the best place for you to build a home. I still think you could put a nice haus right on top of the hill.” Daed stood up and walked to where Saul was standing. He put his hand on Saul’s shoulder. “Today is a new day. A day blessed by our Lord.” He paused as his eyes grew sad. “Perhaps we could think of it as a new beginning.”
Saul was never affectionate with his father—or his brothers. It wasn’t their way. But he couldn’t help but put his arms around his father. “I love you, Daed.”
When his father squeezed him and whispered, “I love you too, sohn,” Saul knew everything was going to somehow be okay. Even if he never did become a chef in a restaurant.
Shelby was the last one in the tub this evening. After she finished in the bathroom, she passed by Rebecca and Aaron’s room on the way to her room, and she heard her name. Instinctively she paused, even though she knew she shouldn’t be eavesdropping.
“I don’t care, Aaron. I still think that Miriam would have never snuck out if Shelby hadn’t put her up to it.”
“I told you before, Rebecca. . . you don’t know if Shelby encouraged Miriam to do that. You ain’t being fair about it.”
Shelby brought her hand to her mouth, her feet rooted to the floor, and she listened.
“There is much worry in my heart concerning Miriam. Not only is she being influenced by an Englisch outsider, but we also have Saul Fisher to worry about. What if he leaves and tries to take our Miriam with him?”
Shelby kept her hand over her mouth as she blinked back tears. An outsider? She was just starting to feel more at home here than she had in Fayetteville. And today had been wonderful—Jesse had been wonderful. But hearing Rebecca speak about her this way pushed a tear down her cheek. She forced her feet to move and hurried down the hallway. When she opened the door, Miriam was sitting on the side of her bed, her eyes red and swollen. She knew her cousin needed to talk, but she just couldn’t tonight.
She walked to her bed, crawled underneath the covers, then glanced at Miriam, whose eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe Shelby was going to go to sleep. “I don’t feel well, Miriam. I’m so sorry. Can we talk tomorrow? I know you’re upset about Saul and sad about your uncle, but I feel like I need to go to sleep.”
Miriam hung her head a bit but then looked at Shelby and sniffled. “Sure. We can talk tomorrow. I probably need to sleep too.”
Sleep was the last thing on Shelby’s mind. Her life was a wreck, and now the family she thought she’d found didn’t want her either. No one wanted her. Not her parents. Not Tommy. And now. . . not Rebecca. She covered her head with the sheet and buried her sobs in her pillow, hoping the sound of the fan would drown out her self-pity. Her cousin had enough worries, and Shelby couldn’t even keep herself together enough to listen to the one person she’d come to trust and love. Like a sister.
God, if You’re there, please, oh please, help me. I feel so lost and alone. I don’t know who else to turn to.
Shelby realized right away that her plea sounded as though God was her last effort, her last hope. She could remember a time when she used to turn to God first. She took a deep breath.
Dear heavenly Father, lately I began to feel like I was part of a family again and that my life was on the mend. Now I’m confused and alone. Please, God, help me to find peace in my heart. Please . . . What is Your plan for me?
She buried her head into her pillow even farther, pulling the edges up over her ears, as if covering her ears would prevent her from hearing anything that she didn’t want to hear. What did she expect to hear?
Please, God. Please . . .
She heard Miriam crawl underneath her covers and twist the knob on the lantern until the room went dark. All that could be heard was the steady spinning of the fan on the nightstand. She stifled her tears, pulled the sheet away from her head, then rolled onto her back. She stared at the ceiling, into darkness. Please, God.
She squeezed her eyes closed and mouthed the words over and over. Please, God . . . Please, God . . .
I am here for you, My child. I will never forsake you.
She held her breath, released it slowly, then felt a sense of calm. . . as if
God had sent the Holy Spirit directly to her at that perfect moment, as only He could do. When she finally began to breathe, she slowly sat up in bed, hugged herself tightly, and began to sob.
“Shelby. . .”
She heard her cousin but didn’t answer. The room seemed brighter somehow, and she wanted to bask in the knowledge that God was with her, that He would always be with her, even when she couldn’t understand His plan for her.
“Dear Lord, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I doubted You.” She cried harder until she felt Miriam’s arms around her.
“I’m here, my sister. I’m here,” Miriam said softly.
Shelby turned to Miriam, who was sitting on the edge of her bed. “God has not forsaken me.”
“Of course He hasn’t.” Miriam rubbed her back as she spoke.
Shelby wept in Miriam’s arms for a long time, knowing that the pains of her past were slowly being released into God’s hands.
After a long while, Miriam turned the lantern up, then they sat like Indians and talked well into the night. Miriam told her everything that happened with Saul, and Shelby told Miriam about her parents’ divorce, how her faith had slipped, and about the bad choices she’d made. It was painful to tell Miriam about the shoplifting and how she’d experimented with drinking and drugs, but her cousin never judged.
She didn’t tell her what she overheard Rebecca saying. She knew Miriam well enough to know that she would go straight to her mother and tell the truth—that it was Miriam who insisted on sneaking out. And Shelby figured Miriam had enough troubles right now.
But her heart ached every time she heard Rebecca’s voice, calling her the “Englisch outsider.”
I want to belong somewhere.
But tonight, for the first time in a long while, she had faith that God would put her on the right path.
Rebecca’s dreams continued to wake her up during the night and stayed with her throughout her days. She feared she would never get any sleep unless she had a heart-to-heart talk with Miriam. She could tell her daughter was reluctant to travel to town with her—just the two of them. Miriam had scoffed when Rebecca mentioned it, and then she’d shuffled across the yard toward the buggy like she was being punished.