A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  I could tell Tom was impressed with the house. He excused himself to use the bathroom, and when he returned he whispered, “There are granite countertops in there.”

  “I know,” I whispered back. Perhaps he thought I’d grown up in a shack. “Dat got a good deal.”

  His eyes grew large at the sight of the kitchen. Mamm and Dat had remodeled it the year before I left. The countertops were quartz, not granite, but the malachite perfectly matched the tiled floor that ran throughout the house. And both the new propane-operated refrigerator and stove had been installed at that same time.

  I could hear voices in the backyard.

  Vi turned toward me. “Would you come out with me to tell the children? In case I don’t have the details right?”

  Surprised, I nodded as Tom and I both followed her through the back porch and out to the yard. Gail, Marie, and Silas played a game of volleyball with the children. When they saw their mother, the children froze.

  I waited a moment for Vi to say something, but when she didn’t, I called out, “Your father’s okay.” I feared they thought he’d passed. “He’s in the hospital. Leisel is staying with him.”

  Vi seemed to find her voice. “I came home to tell you what happened. He had a heart attack.”

  She turned toward me with a look of panic on her face.

  “The doctors are doing tests,” I said. “To see what the damage is to his heart. He’s in a special unit at the hospital where they can take extra good care of him. He’ll probably have surgery soon—they’ll let us know tomorrow.”

  “Did he have an attack because Dawdi died?” Luke asked.

  I shook my head. “Something was already wrong with his heart. If it didn’t happen now, it would have happened soon.” Thank goodness it happened today and not while he was alone in the field. Or in the middle of the night when Vi would have had to run to the barn to call for help. I shivered at the thought.

  Silas ruffled Luke’s hair and said, “How about some pie?” He glanced up at Vi. “They wanted to wait until they had word about their Dat.”

  My heart constricted. No matter how harsh Arden was with me, he was a father and a husband. He was loved and cherished.

  “Jah,” I said. “Let’s all go inside. It’s chilly out here.”

  The children lifted their coats and capes from the grass and started toward the door, following their Mamm. I hung back and introduced Tom to Silas, Gail, and Marie. Even Marie was cordial.

  Once we were back in the house, I nodded to the table in the corner and whispered to Tom, “You can sit at the big table or here with Amos and me.”

  He wrinkled his nose and muttered, “This shunning is hard to take.”

  I shook my head and whispered, “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll sit with you, of course.” He scowled as he sat down.

  As we ate, Tom asked Amos about Colorado. Soon we were having an animated conversation about farming practices. Amos used his hands as he gestured how wide open the ranches were out there. “I worked on one that was twenty thousand acres,” he said. “It takes a lot of land to graze a steer out there. We had three thousand on that one.”

  Tom whistled. “I’ve always wanted to visit Colorado. I’ve never been west of Chicago.”

  And I’d never been west of Harrisburg.

  As we chatted away, I realized that those sitting at the big table were quiet. Mamm, with Aenti Suz’s help, was headed toward the staircase. Vi stood and said, “Children, we should head home.”

  Luke groaned. “Why do we have to go so soon?”

  “We should get going is all,” Vi said. “I’m tired.”

  Tom gave me a questioning look. I stood too. “I’m going to show Tom the rest of the farm. Don’t mind us.”

  “I’m going with them,” Amos said.

  We all picked up our dishes and headed toward the kitchen. Milton gave me a questioning look as we passed by, but everyone else kept their heads down, including Silas.

  After we left our plates in the kitchen, we hurried onto the back porch, and down to the lawn again. “You saw the shed,” I explained. “Usually there’s an old tractor in it and tools. That sort of thing. Now I’ll show you the barn. We can walk through, but it’s just about time for milking. Maybe we can help.”

  Our barn was a typical large Amish dairy barn, whitewashed both inside and out. “I’m guessing there’s not much dairy farming in Colorado,” Tom said to Amos.

  He laughed. “Not around where I live. We strictly raise beef.”

  Silas and Milton came into the barn to start the milking, along with a neighbor. “Mind if we help?” I asked.

  Silas glanced at Milton, who shrugged. Finally Silas gestured toward the milking machines. “Why not?”

  I put on a vinyl apron over my coat and Tom did the same. Amos didn’t bother. Instead he took off his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He went to the door and called the first group of cows, who began parading in one by one with a little nudging from Silas and Milton. We had eighty all together, which meant two milkings. The neighbor and Amos began securing them in their stalls. Tom joined in, while I began giving each of the cows her feed. All in all, they ate over a hundred pounds a day. We mixed hay and silage, plus grain and a concentrate that contained carbohydrates, proteins, fats, minerals, and vitamins.

  Milton and Silas began sanitizing the cows’ teats and then drying them, which kept everything cleaner and also sped up the milk letting down. They quickly attached the milking tubes that connected to the vacuum pull from the machine.

  Once the cows were all in their stalls, I showed Tom what to do and every once in a while Amos too. A lot had changed in the barn in the last sixteen years.

  Silas took charge of the milk vat. He stepped into the office at least once—maybe to record numbers or retrieve some sort of supply. I wasn’t sure.

  It only took around five minutes for the machine to milk a cow, but it took much longer to get everything set up and then to finish the process. We spoke some as we worked, but it wasn’t like the old days when Silas and I used to joke around as we did the milking.

  As Tom and Amos herded the last of the cows back out to the pasture, I stepped toward the office, my eyes landing on the phone. I touched my apron pocket. Surely Leisel would call my cell phone and not the barn phone. I knew she had my number, at least at one time. I should have asked her if she remembered it. I decided to check the answering machine just in case.

  The red light was blinking. I hit the button and the recording said, “You have five messages.” Two were from yesterday, both neighbors who offered to help with the chores. The third one was from a Mr. Carlson from this morning. He simply said he would see the family at the service. I guessed it was the gray-haired man in the rumpled suit.

  The next message was blank. Someone had hung up after the beep.

  The last message was from Leisel. “This is for Jessica,” she said. “Could you call me back with your cell number? I’ve forgotten it. Oh, and Arden had the tests the doctor talked about soon after you left. We don’t have the results yet.” She rattled off the number I could reach her at. I took my cell phone from my pocket, punched in the number, and then as it rang my eyes fell to the papers on top of the desk.

  The top one looked like some sort of a contract. I picked it up just as Leisel answered my call. “Got a piece of paper and a pen?” I asked.

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  I gave her my number. “Do you want me to come get you soon?”

  “No,” she answered. “I’ll spend the night.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Jah,” she said. “It’s good for Arden to have someone with him.”

  “All right,” I said. “Call me in the morning.”

  She assured me she would. We said our good-byes, and as I disconnected the call, I turned the document around. It was from an oil company. Our address was printed at the top. My heart sank. What was Arden up to? I looked for a date. Had he req
uested the plans be drawn up three years ago? Or was this something new?

  “Jessica?” Milton stood at the office door. “What do you need?”

  I looked up slowly. For a moment I could see a hint of Arden’s harshness in his face. I nodded toward the phone on the desk. “Leisel left a message.” I started toward the doorway, feeling the old familiar shame. But this time from my fourteen-year-old nephew. I’d come back and look at the papers later.

  As I came out of the office, Tom stepped to my side. “Are you ready to go home?”

  I shook my head. “I’m going to stay another night.” I’d see if Aenti Suz would tell me the rest of Ruby’s story, and I’d help with the milking in the morning. “I’ll stop by the hospital tomorrow,” I said. “And see what the doctors say about Arden. Then I’ll come home.”

  Tom seemed to understand. I walked him to his car and thanked him for coming. “I don’t know what I would have done without you,” I said sincerely. “I’ll text when I’m back in town tomorrow. Life will soon be back to normal.”

  He nodded and put his arm on my shoulder. “I’m looking forward to that.” Then he quickly released me and climbed into his car. I knew he had a meeting at church at 7:30 p.m. that he’d hate to miss.

  Silas and I had always spent every second we could together, but Tom was so busy with meetings and basketball games and projects that we had to squeeze time in together. We weren’t starry-eyed teenagers like Silas and I had been. This was normal life, or at least that’s what I told myself.

  I watched as Tom’s car disappeared up the lane, and then I headed to Aenti Suz’s. Thankfully she was there. And so was Amos.

  “How about some supper?” she asked. “I gathered up enough leftovers so you and Amos can eat here tonight.”

  I thanked her and said I’d eat later—I wasn’t hungry yet. “I was hoping for the rest of Ruby’s story,” I said. “I’m going back to Harrisburg tomorrow.”

  “So soon?”

  I nodded.

  “Well,” she said. “Where did I leave off?”

  “The Patriots had just arrived. Ruby wanted Zachary to hide, while she said all of her brothers had gone to Canada.”

  “That’s right,” Aenti Suz said. “But Zachary said he’d speak to them.” She sighed. “Here Ruby had stayed behind, thinking she’d have Zachary to protect their mother and her. But all that changed in the course of a day.”

  8

  Ruby

  Ruby followed Zachary to the front yard, still tugging on the calf, still covered in mud, dismayed that her brother would be so foolish.

  He turned toward her and hissed. “Go secure the calf. Do you want them to take him?”

  She stopped. He was right. They needed to protect everything they could. She’d heard of the rebels raiding barns, cribs, smokehouses, and cellars. They’d sent so much food with the travelers that she’d have to scramble to preserve enough food for Mamm and Zachary and herself as it was. She’d need to start with the baskets of apples waiting for her in the shed. There was a hog to butcher as soon as the cold weather arrived, and they’d butcher the calf by spring.

  Zachary’s face had grown serious. “Go on.”

  “All right,” she said. “But why aren’t you hiding?” The rebels had been forcing men to attend military musters and join companies of soldiers. Zachary had to avoid such a thing at all costs. “You’re in more danger than the calf.”

  He shrugged, and she shuddered. Zachary hadn’t been himself lately, not at all. She dragged the calf back to the barn and secured it in a stall, leaving the rope. She’d return it to the fence later.

  Then she washed in the trough as best she could and hurried back to where she could see Zachary. Not only was he not hiding, he wasn’t staying in the yard either. He kicked up the dust as he headed to the road. She quickly counted twelve Patriots, dressed in mismatched blue uniforms and ratty tricorn hats. A motley crew to be sure—so unlike the crisply dressed British soldiers with their red uniforms and black hats. The Patriots mocked them by calling them Lobsters.

  Ruby was surprised, for a moment, with how tall Zachary appeared. Had he grown in the last year without her noticing? Or was he simply holding himself upright with his shoulders squared?

  “We heard there was a crowd of Loyalists around here,” one of the older soldiers shouted. “We’re here to find out if that’s true.”

  “I’m the only man here,” Zachary said.

  Oh, why hadn’t he hidden and let her talk with the soldiers?

  “Where are the rest?” the man asked.

  “They left for Canada.”

  The man smirked and a couple of the other soldiers laughed.

  “Point proven,” the man said. “What about you? Why didn’t you leave?”

  “My mother’s ill.” Zachary nodded toward Mamm, who still sat on the front porch. “My sister and I stayed behind to care for her.”

  “Is that right?” the leader asked, eyeing Ruby. She hurried to Zachary’s side.

  But he nudged her and said, “Go sit with Mamm.”

  Ruby turned toward the porch, walking slowly, hoping to hear more of the conversation.

  The man jumped down from his horse. “Why haven’t you signed up to fight with us?”

  “I’m nonresistant,” Zachary said. “It’s against my faith to fight.”

  “Have you paid the war tax?”

  “No,” Zachary answered.

  “You need to pay the tax or hire someone to fight for you.” The man paused, and then said loudly, “Or join us and fight like a man.”

  “Even though I’m the only one to run the farm?”

  The man smirked. “Let your sister do it.”

  “Let me think on it,” Zachary said. “Come back tomorrow, and I’ll give you my answer.”

  The man didn’t seem happy. “We can force you to go with us now.”

  “I know,” Zachary said. “But another day won’t make any difference in the long run. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a chance to figure it out. To either come up with the money or put my affairs in order so my mother and sister will be cared for.”

  The man glanced toward Ruby again. She was only halfway to the porch, shuffling backward. As his gaze fell on her, she turned around and started walking forward again. She couldn’t hear any more of the conversation as she reached the porch and stopped beside her mother.

  “What’s going on?” Mamm asked.

  “Patriots,” Ruby answered. “They’re asking Zachary some questions.”

  Mamm exhaled but kept quiet.

  Zachary nodded toward the house again and then called out, “Ruby. How about if you get a basket of apples for our guests?” For a moment he sounded so much like Dat that she almost wept. Their father had been hospitable and kind, even to people he disagreed with. Instead of crying, Ruby marched as calmly as she could to the shed, all the way to the back, and picked up one of the baskets of apples. Dat had planted several apple trees on the far side of the house before Ruby was born. Each year the trees produced more and more, which they made into applesauce, dried apples, apple butter, and cider for the family. Ruby had sent full baskets with Hans and Daniel. But she’d kept several baskets for until Mamm, Zachary, and she left for Canada.

  When she returned, the soldiers had all pushed into the yard. She held the basket in front of them, one by one, and they grabbed as many as they could, filling their pockets, until all of them were gone.

  “Thank you, miss,” the oldest one said, tipping his matted felt hat.

  “You’re welcome,” Ruby said and retreated back to the porch.

  Finally the soldiers left, taking off in the direction they’d come from, and Zachary started toward the cabin. Ruby met him in the yard.

  She knew Hans had taken most of the money their father had managed to save through the years and would combine it with what he and Daniel had from the sale of their properties to buy land. Paul had money of his own from the sale of the farm he’d inherited from
his father. “What are you going to do?” she asked Zachary. “There’s no money to pay a tax or hire someone to fight for you.”

  Her brother shrugged. “Give me some time to think it through. We’ll talk later.”

  Ruby nodded. There was no reason to worry Mamm about it.

  “Let’s get you back inside,” Ruby said to her mother. “I need to get changed and then stoke the fire in the oven and get the bread started.” She’d sent all the loaves she’d made that morning with the travelers, along with the baskets of apples, hams, corn, potatoes, and squash from the garden.

  Jah, she was thankful the Patriots hadn’t raided the little food Ruby had left to feed Zachary and mother through the winter, if needed. It was a good thing Zachary offered the apples.

  They only had a few sacks of flour left and a little sugar. The inn on the edge of Lancaster, where the Bachmanns sometimes traded, didn’t have much in the way of supplies, and the prices seemed to climb higher by the week.

  Zachary would need to spend some time hunting to fill the smokehouse. She sighed. They’d have to come up with the money, somehow, to pay for someone else to fight for him or pay the special war tax, even though Hans was against both. Otherwise their land would be confiscated. Where would they live while Mamm recovered?

  Once Ruby had Mamm settled at the table, she changed out of her muddy clothes and then tended the fire out back in the oven. After she shaped the remaining dough into loaves, she set them on the worktable near the fireplace. While they rose, she began cutting apples to dry. Hopefully the days of sunshine would last. The warm autumn weather was a blessing.

  Mamm began to hum “Das Loblied” and Ruby sang along with her. She’d learned everything she knew about life and housekeeping and cooking from her mother, while Dat had instructed her in the faith and taught her to read and write, too, along with mathematics and English. Together her parents had given her a well-rounded education.

  Ruby had a happy childhood with her brothers. Secure and mostly worry-free, until the war started. Now, as she’d grown into a woman, everything had changed. The problems between the Tories and the Patriots had strained the community. Most believed the taxation was too high, but they wanted to settle the problem with the British, not rebel against them. Before the war, the community experienced freedom in both civil and religious matters. Once the war started, however, the Patriots began taking away freedoms. Some of the Loyalists had their land taken away. Even those who simply refused to pledge allegiance to the Patriots or the Loyalists were harassed, often by both sides.