A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  Now there was the war tax to pay.

  Before Dat had died, he urged his sons to dedicate themselves to serving all men and preserving lives. “Don’t ever take up arms or support either side—there is no freedom in assisting in the destruction of life,” he’d insisted. “Instead pray to God for us and them.”

  That was why Hans had decided to move to Canada. He’d decided that praying was no longer the only viable solution. He had to take action to save himself and his brothers from fighting or having to support the war.

  If only Mamm hadn’t fallen ill. They’d all be on their way to Canada, instead of Zachary being forced with making a decision that, no matter what, would disappoint Dat—and Hans too.

  Ruby worked hard all day, cutting apples, baking bread, and then preparing a supper of ham slices and corn cakes. Afterward, she got Mamm down for the night.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Zachary sat at the big oak table with a lit lamp in front of him.

  Ruby sank into one of the chairs her Dat had made so many years ago. “Do we have enough money?”

  “For?” he asked.

  “The war tax.” Surely Hans had left some money.

  “We don’t need it,” her brother replied.

  She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  He stared at his hands, resting on the table. “I’m going to fight.”

  “No!” Ruby cried. “You can’t.”

  He raised his head and met her eyes. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  The realization hit her. “You didn’t just decide today. . . . Did you have this planned all along? Is that why you decided to stay?”

  “No, I hoped not to have to fight. But I didn’t want to go to Canada either. This is home. I didn’t agree with Hans about leaving.”

  “But why would you fight now?”

  “I don’t have the money to pay the tax.”

  “Surely Hans left some. . . .”

  Zachary shook his head. “No. He said he might, but he must have changed his mind.”

  Ruby shook her head, but she wasn’t surprised Hans had put his family’s needs before the rest of them.

  She stood and walked to the desk, opening drawer after drawer. The money had been stored there before, but there was nothing to be found now except for a few coins that had been left to buy flour and sugar. She turned back to Zachary.

  He shrugged. “Obviously he took it all.”

  Ruby crossed her arms. “We can go ahead and sell the farm and board in town until Mamm is strong enough. Old Man Wallis—”

  “Ruby, no.”

  “We’re going to sell it soon enough anyway.”

  Zachary looked as if he might cry.

  “What? Isn’t that what we need to do? Sell out and go to Canada?”

  “No,” he said. “That’s never what I wanted. You weren’t listening to me.”

  Ruby struggled to speak. Finally she managed to ask, “What do you want?”

  “To stay here, on our land. I’d rather fight than leave.”

  “Zachary, what are you saying?”

  He stood. “When the Patriots come back, I’m going with them.”

  “What about Mamm and me?”

  “I spoke with the neighbor.”

  “Old Man Wallis?”

  “No, his nephew. He’s from Philadelphia. Duncan Wallis is his name.”

  “The one who walks with a crutch?”

  Zachary nodded. “He said he’d keep an eye on both of you and the farm too.”

  “No.” Ruby stepped toward her brother. “That won’t do, not at all.”

  “He seems nice enough.”

  “He’s not. He was quite rude this morning.” Her face grew warm. She’d forgotten to return the rope. “And he’s in no shape to help with anything. He couldn’t even get the calf out of his garden.”

  “He was injured at the Battle of Trenton, fighting for the Continental Army. He wants to help.”

  “Zachary, he’s an Englischman. You can’t possibly think this is a good idea.”

  “What do you propose I do? Have the Patriots confiscate our land? Then what will become of us? We won’t have any money to get to Canada. We’ll be destitute here.”

  “Go ask Old Man Wallis if he’ll buy our property. We can leave tomorrow.”

  “And what about Mamm? You know how weak she is.”

  Ruby grabbed the lamp from the table and started for the door. “I’ll go ask Old Man Wallis.”

  “Rube.”

  Zachary had never betrayed her like this. Out of all of her family, he was the one she trusted most. How would she ever get to Paul if Zachary went off and fought in the war? Then again, what was she thinking to force Mamm to travel when she was still weak? She couldn’t do that.

  But it would be better to sell now before it was confiscated. Perhaps they could board with one of the families who hadn’t left for Canada. She hurried out the cabin door, pulling her shawl tight, and marched toward the neighbors’, breathing in the cool autumn air.

  A light burned in their window, and she hurried up to the door. She began knocking before she lost her nerve.

  The man—Duncan—came to the door with his crutch in one hand and a musket in the other. “Who’s there?” he barked.

  “Your neighbor.” Ruby held up the lamp. “We met this morning.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I need to ask Old—your uncle—something.”

  “He’s asleep.” Duncan said. “What do want to ask him?”

  She inhaled sharply. “If he would like to buy our farm. He’s been interested for years, and we’re finally ready to sell.”

  Duncan frowned and then shook his head. “His health isn’t good.”

  “What about you?” Ruby asked. “Would you like to buy it?”

  Duncan pointed to his bad leg. “You think I’d make it as a farmer? I’ll sell this place as soon as he dies and head back to Philadelphia. God willing, the British will be forced out soon.” He smirked a little. “Perhaps your family would be interested in buying this place.”

  Ruby shook her head. She’d been foolish to come over. But she had one more question. “Why did you tell my brother you’d keep an eye on my Mamm and me if you don’t plan to stick around?”

  He shrugged. “I was being neighborly and wanted to help out a fellow Patriot. Besides, I probably won’t be going anywhere before next spring—hopefully your brother will be back by then.” He held up the musket. “And I might be lame but I can still shoot a gun. Scream if you need me.” He started to close the door, but Ruby stuck her foot out and stopped him.

  “Are you always so rude?”

  He sneered. “I answered the door, didn’t I?”

  “Listen,” Ruby said. “I won’t need your help while my brother is gone. You stay on your side of the fence, and I’ll stay on mine.” She jerked her foot out and the door slammed shut, followed by a crash on the other side.

  She gasped and then pushed the door open again. Duncan was sprawled on the floor reaching for his crutch, one hand on his bad leg.

  “Get out of here,” he bellowed.

  “I’m so sorry.” She stepped over him and grabbed his crutch with her free hand. “Here,” she said, holding her lamp so he could see. “Let me help.”

  “You’ve done enough,” he said as he snatched the crutch from her.

  “Let me pull you up.”

  He held the crutch against his chest. “I don’t need your help.”

  She was afraid he did, but by the look on his face he wasn’t going to accept it. “I’m sorry,” she said again, ashamed of what she’d done.

  “Go!” he ordered. “And shut the door.”

  She slipped back out the door and pulled it closed behind her. But she didn’t head home. Instead she listened. She could hear the crutch against the wood floor, a shuffling noise, and a push against the door. Then the click of the crutch against the floor again and a shuffle-step pattern. She breathed a sigh of relief that Du
ncan was up and able to walk. What had possessed her to yank her foot out of the doorway like that, causing him to fall?

  Ashamed, she hurried home, asking God to forgive her for being uncaring. She couldn’t rely on Duncan Wallis, not after what she’d done. Come what may, it seemed she’d have to figure out a way to care for Mamm and run the farm on her own.

  9

  Ruby hardly slept that night, remembering the thud of Duncan falling against the wood floor and then the look of despair on his face. When she did fall asleep, she dreamt of Patriot soldiers and war and of Paul riding off in his wagon, leaving her behind. Finally she rose, hours before dawn, and dressed in the dark.

  When she reached the kitchen, Zachary sat at the table with the lamp lit and two books in front of him. She didn’t need to look to know what they were. The family Bible and Martyrs Mirrors. Dat and Mamm had brought both from Switzerland. The Bible was closed and pushed to the middle of the table. The second was open, and Zachary was staring at it as if in a trance.

  “Convicted?” Ruby asked.

  Without glancing up, he asked, “Of what?”

  “Going off to fight. Aligning yourself with soldiers.”

  He closed the book and pushed it to the middle of the table also. “No,” he answered. “I’m going off to save our land—for now, at least.”

  “Think what you want if it will make you feel better.” Ruby turned toward the fireplace. “In the meantime, go fetch me some water and then do your chores. At least give me one last morning with only my own work to do.”

  She stirred the fire first, bringing it back to life, and then built it up. She stood, warming her hands against the flames until Zachary returned with the water from the springhouse. Then she put the kettle on to boil and began making porridge for their breakfast. Zachary came in with the milk, and she told him they would go ahead and eat. There was no reason to wake Mamm yet. Ruby knew a good sleep made for a better day for their mother.

  She sat at the table across from her brother. After he led them in a silent prayer, they ate without speaking. Once they were done, Zachary retrieved the Bible again and read from Matthew 5, including, “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” Ruby wondered how he could read such scripture on the day he planned to go off to war without obeying it, but she kept her mouth closed. She knew Zachary’s conscience was at work. Perhaps he’d change his mind yet. At this point, she figured it would be better if their land was confiscated than for him to go off and fight. What if he had to kill someone? How could he live with that on his conscience his entire life? Or what if he were killed? She felt as if she might be sick.

  If only Hans had waited a day to leave. He should have been the one dealing with the rebels.

  Zachary closed the Bible, thanked Ruby for breakfast, and then stood. “I’m going to go chop as much wood as I can before I leave.”

  Ruby thanked him. Before she could say any more, the sound of Mamm’s voice pulled her to the back room. After she dressed and fed Mamm, Ruby separated the milk, fed the chickens, then killed, feathered, and cut up an old one and put it in a pot to boil for Zachary’s farewell meal. Then she sliced turnips, potatoes, and carrots and added them to the pot. She could hear the ring of the axe over and over and over as she worked.

  Her hope rose as time passed by. Maybe the rebels wouldn’t come back. Maybe they’d moved on to the other side of the county. Maybe they’d forgotten all about the Bachmann place.

  At noon, Zachary came in for his dinner. They ate silently again. Finally, in her slurred speech, Mamm asked about the soldiers. “Tell me what’s happening. You two are hiding something from me.”

  Zachary gave Ruby a hopeless look.

  “We don’t know, not exactly,” Ruby finally said. “We’ll have to see if the Patriots return or not.”

  Mamm didn’t ask any more questions, but Ruby doubted she was content with the answer.

  In the midafternoon, while Mamm rested, Ruby went out to the garden to harvest the rest of the squash and onions. As she loaded her baskets with produce, thundering hooves once again descended on the farm. She stood for a moment, waiting to see what would happen, but then Zachary stepped from the barn in his coat with a leather bag over his shoulder.

  She dropped an acorn squash and then jumped back so it wouldn’t land on her foot. Zachary marched straight ahead.

  “You need to tell Mamm good-bye,” Ruby shouted.

  “Tell her for me. Say I won’t be gone long. I don’t want to wake her.”

  “Zachary . . .”

  He turned toward her, looking for a moment like a little boy. “I can’t, Rube. I just can’t. Don’t make this any harder.”

  “Harder? I’m the one who will have to explain things to her. Don’t be a coward.”

  He hesitated but then nodded his head. Ruby led the way to the porch. Zachary waved to the oldest of the men, the one who had done all the talking the day before, and then dropped his bag on the porch. Then he followed Ruby into the house, to the back room. Mamm slept soundly, her white hair fanned out around her head.

  “Mamm.” Ruby gently shook her shoulder. “Can you wake up? Zachary is leaving and wants to tell you good-bye.”

  Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again.

  “Mamm,” Ruby said again.

  She opened them again and this time they didn’t flutter. Ruby repeated that Zachary wanted to tell her good-bye.

  “Where are you going, son?”

  “I’m not sure.” His voice was so low Ruby wondered if Mamm could even hear him. “But I’m leaving with the Patriots. I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

  He bent down and hugged her. She clung to him for a long moment and then released him. “Don’t forget your faith,” she said.

  He nodded, seemingly too choked up to speak. Again, he seemed like a child. Whatever his reasons, the task ahead of him wasn’t easy either.

  “Don’t forget your home.”

  “Never,” he managed to answer.

  Neither said good-bye as he quickly left the room.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ruby said to Mamm and then rushed after Zachary. “What instructions do you have for me, as far as the farm?”

  He stopped at the front door. “Harvest the corn in a couple of weeks. Butcher the hog next month, once the temperatures fall.” She knew that. “Keep the spring clean. Plant the garden like you always do. Plant the corn in late March. If there’s any trouble, like I already said, ask Duncan Wallis for help.”

  When Ruby didn’t respond, he bent down and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Rube. This isn’t fair, I know. I’ll pray for you and Mamm every day.”

  “What about Lettie?” she asked.

  “I’ll send her a message—she’ll understand,” he said. “I already asked her to wait for me, no matter what might happen. . . .”

  Ruby couldn’t imagine Zachary going off to war would set very well with the girl’s Dat, but she didn’t say so out loud.

  He pulled a letter from his bag. “I’ve written to Hans about my predicament, about my decision. I’ve asked him to return to see to you and Mamm and sell the farm if he can.”

  “But I thought you wanted to keep the farm.”

  “Jah, I’d like to, more than anything. But the safety of you and Mamm is my biggest concern.” He slipped the letter back into his bag. “I’ll send it to Hans as soon as I can.”

  Ruby thanked him and then said, “Take care of yourself.”

  He nodded and then rushed out the door. She followed him, but stopped on the porch. The soldiers had a string of horses they hadn’t had the day before. They were probably confiscated from Loyalists. The Bachmanns only had a pair of workhorses left—Gunnar and Gustaf. Hans had taken the other ones. He’d left the two workhorses so Zachary could plow in the spring, if needed.

  The man who’d done the talking the day before directed Zachary to the first
horse. He quickly untied it and slipped on to its bare back. He glanced at Ruby once but didn’t wave. Tears filled her eyes, but then the sound of Mamm calling her drew her back into the house.

  After Mamm and Ruby both dried their tears, she helped her mother to the porch to enjoy the last sunshine of the day. Dark clouds had started to gather on the horizon. Leaves from the trees along the roadway swirled in the air, and the smoke from the dying fire in the fireplace floated down toward them from the chimney when the breeze shifted. Ruby peeled apples while they enjoyed the sun.

  About the time Ruby was ready to help Mamm back inside, someone called out a hello. She stood and shaded her eyes from the lowering sun.

  “It’s me,” the voice said. “From next door.”

  “Oh.” Why in the world would Duncan come over? But then she remembered the rope. She hadn’t put it on the fence like she said she would. “Oh, your rope!” she called out. “It’s in the barn. I’ll go get it.”

  “I’d forgotten about it,” he answered. “It can wait.”

  “No. I’ll get it now.” She turned toward Mamm. “This is Duncan Wallis, Mr. Wallis’s nephew.”

  Mamm extended her hand and in her broken English asked, “How is your uncle?”

  Ruby excused herself as Duncan answered. She slipped away to the barn, grabbed the rope, and then returned to the porch. Duncan was sitting in the chair beside Mamm. They were somehow, with Mamm’s poor English, talking about Old Man Wallis.

  Duncan said, “It’s been several weeks since he fell ill.”

  Ruby felt bad neither she nor her brothers had checked on the man. He’d leased out his property to another farmer, so there had been no indication by the state of the farm that he wasn’t doing well.