Whispers of a New Dawn

by Murray Pura

  “A crush? No. Nothing.” She opened both eyes and sat up. “I’m hungry.”

  “Of course.” Moses jumped to his feet. “Forgive me. Let me bring you a plate. Here come the children.”

  Becky shielded her eyes with her hand as the sun dropped lower and found its way underneath the leaves of the oak tree. “Oh, my goodness. There are twice as many as there were when they left.”

  “They’ve told their friends. Is there anything special I should bring you?”

  “Meat.” She laughed, squinting up at him. “I’m starving.”

  “Gut. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “What will I do with them while you’re gone?”

  “Tell them to eat. Not to talk with their mouths full. To finish everything on their plates. If they do all that, you will tell them a story.” He grinned and walked away, calling back, “Like a gut mother.”

  “Oh.” The children swarmed around her, balancing their plates and glasses of lemonade and calling out to each other and to her in their language. “A mother, am I?” She put her arms around three smiling girls who were eating corn on the cob. “I feel more like Mother Goose.” She kissed each of the girls and they giggled. “Do you know Mother Goose? Mutter, I think you say—yes, that’s it. Mutter Gans, do they teach you about Mutter Gans here in Paradise? No, eat up, eat up, I’m the only one who can talk right now, the rest of you have food in your mouths. I will talk and you listen, all right? I have a story, a very good story, but you must all eat while I tell it to you, okay? Ja? Gut?”

  They ate, their eyes on Becky. Once Moses arrived with a plateful of food for her, the roles were reversed, and she ate while the children talked. They told her about their schoolteacher, their ponies, their new buggies and wagons, their Percheron workhorses, their crops, and their pet dogs. Long streamers of cloud in the west turned purple and burgundy, and the fathers and mothers, a number of whom had been standing and listening at the edge of the circle, began to take their sons and daughters home, thanking Becky and Moses as they did so.

  “Well, that’s that.” Becky stood up with her empty plate. “I should be heading home too.”

  “It’s a ways to the Kurtz farm. I believe your parents have already left.” Moses nodded with his head toward a buggy parked at one side of the field. “Permit me to give you a ride.”

  “That’s all right. I don’t mind walking.”

  “Please. It’s not so often I get to speak with girls my own age.”

  “Moses, there are plenty of young women all around us.”

  He shrugged. “You’re not the same as them.”

  They walked back to the tables with their dishes and gave them to the women who were washing up. Then they approached his buggy. The horse nickered. Becky rubbed its forehead and the spot between its ears.

  “Milly.” Moses patted the mare’s neck. “I’ve had her since I was twelve.”

  “Really? That’s quite a while. The pair of you must have a special relationship then.”

  “Ja. Very special. If I fell asleep holding the traces she would take me home and then whinny until someone came out.”

  “Are you going to fall asleep, Moses?”

  He smiled. “No.” He helped her into the buggy. “Please sit up front with me.”

  “All right.”

  They chatted while Milly trotted east along the road into the twilight and the first stars, falling into a long line of buggies and wagons. In minutes they were followed by another long line of buggies all going home from the picnic at the Stoltzfus’ field. The air was warm and mosquitoes began to bite. When Moses saw her scratching her legs and arms he tugged a blanket out from under his seat and gave it to her.

  “It’s only cotton. It won’t be too hot, but it’ll keep off the hungry Lancaster bugs.”

  Becky pulled the white blanket over her. “Danke, Moses.”

  “Bitte, Rebecca.”

  He turned up the Kurtz’s drive to the house. Aunt Ruth and her father and mother were sitting on a swing on the porch. Her father stood up as they approached.

  “So there you are. We were wondering where you had gotten to.” He smiled at Moses. “You are Emma and Adam Yoder’s oldest son, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.” Moses helped Becky to the ground. “I didn’t want her to walk home alone in the dark.”

  “Thank you very much. We’re grateful.”

  Becky folded the blanket and gave it back to Moses. “Thank you for the ride. And all the games. I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight.”

  “It would have been very difficult keeping the children entertained without you. Danke.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I didn’t do that much, Moses.”

  “You made all the difference.” He touched the brim of his straw hat. “I hope I may see you again soon, Rebecca.”

  He drove away as Becky walked up the steps to the porch. Her father had his hands in his pockets and was smiling. Aunt Ruth and her mother were gazing at her from the swing.

  “What?” She glared back at the three of them. “What is it? So a young Amish man drives me home.”

  Her father’s smile grew. “I’ve never known Becky Whetstone to need assistance getting in and out of airplanes or boats or motorcars before. Or horse-drawn buggies.”

  Becky looked away quickly. “I’m exhausted. I’ll see you all in the morning. Good night.”

  Jude watched her walk into the house and head up the staircase. Then he turned and looked at Lyyndaya.

  “Emma’s son,” he said.

  She nodded. “How strange life can be.” Leaning back on the swing she began to rock more quickly. “It’s past time that she took the notice of a young man. There was never any her age in Africa or in the Caribbean she felt she could talk to.”

  “But the Amish do not have boyfriends and girlfriends, remember.” Ruth helped her younger sister keep the swing moving. “Ja, there is always friendship. But if young people feel anything more than that, it becomes a matter of courting and marriage. And he is the bishop’s grandson. They will not be allowed to date as the English do.”

  Lyyndaya flicked her hand at a mosquito. “No one is talking about romance, Ruthie. Just a boy to be friends with. If she makes a girl her friend as well so much the better.”

  “Young Moses is considered quite the catch. So tall and handsome and sweet. All the girls will be jealous.”

  “Oh, Ruthie. Nothing will come of it. Becky will never give up her airplanes or the sky. No matter how charming Moses is.”

  THREE

  The sunlight finally woke Becky when it fell across her face. After lingering a moment, she sat up, climbed out of bed, slipped on her dress, splashed some water on her face from the basin on the washstand, and rushed downstairs, pinning up her hair as she went. Grandmother Kurtz was alone in the kitchen, fussing with a tray of freshly baked loaves of bread. Her smile upon seeing her granddaughter was quick and bright.

  “Ah, child. You must be hungry.”

  Becky hugged her. “Grandma, I’m so sorry I slept in. Where is everyone?”

  “Up and about. Here and there. Your father is helping Luke with his hay cutting. Lyyndy just finished the milking. Grandpa is with the horses.” She put on mitts and brought a plate of pancakes out of the warming oven. “Sit down. Give thanks. Eat.” She placed a large mason jar of maple syrup on the table with a thump and added a rectangle of pale butter. “I just made the butter this morning.”

  Becky sat down and prayed and ate.

  “When you’re done just put your things in the sink.” Grandmother Kurtz was placing loaves on the sills of open windows to cool. “Tomorrow we have the worship service in our barn. So Ruth is there with your mother getting it ready, laying down fresh straw. They would welcome your help.”

  “Of course.” Becky drank her tall glass of cold milk in one gulp and pushed herself back from the table. “It was delicious, Grandma.”

  “Vas? You only ate three pancakes.”

  “I’m stuf
fed.”

  “It has to last you until lunch. Put this piece of bread in the pocket of your dress in case you feel faint.”

  “Grandma—”

  Grandmother Kurtz stuffed it into Becky’s pocket herself. “There. Gut. Now you go to the barn. They need you.”

  The barn was empty of horses or cattle or farming equipment. At first, walking from the brilliant sunshine into the gloom of the barn’s interior, Becky couldn’t see anyone. But then her mother called to her and as her eyes adjusted she saw Aunt Ruth was only a few feet away sweeping. Her mother was pitching clean straw over the floor.

  “Becky, grab another pitchfork. There’s one right behind you. There is so much else to do. We need to finish up in here.”

  Becky had no trouble spotting the pitchfork or the pile of hay her mother was using. She carried heaps of it to other parts of the barn and scattered it. Once Ruth was happy with her sweeping, she found a third pitchfork and joined Lyyndaya and Becky.

  Ruth smiled at Becky as they tossed hay onto the floor side by side. “How did you sleep?”

  Becky made a face. “It was perfect. But you should have awakened me.”

  “Did you get some breakfast?”

  “No one can get past Grandma Kurtz without breakfast.”

  Lyyndaya leaned on her pitchfork a moment. “Or lunch. Or supper. Or bedtime snacks. That’s the way she’s always been.”

  Becky looked around the barn. “Are we going to sit on the floor?”

  She had scarcely asked the question before there was a jingle of harness and a shout: “Guten Morgen! Wir haben die Bänke!”

  Ruth propped her pitchfork against the barn wall and walked out to the farmyard. “There’s your answer. The men have brought the benches over in a wagon.”

  Becky looked to see who was driving the wagon but her mother said, “Come. Let’s finish this quickly now. There are some bare patches behind you.”

  Becky was still pitching hay when two men carried the first of the benches in. It was plain and sturdy and had no back. Behind them came two other men. She didn’t know either of them and merely nodded, keeping her head down.

  “Rebecca. Guten Morgen. How are you?”

  She looked up to see Moses smiling and helping Joshua Miller carry a bench inside.

  “Why, good morning, Moses. Hello, Joshua. I didn’t know you were with the wagon.”

  “Oh, I drove it,” Moses said quickly.

  “And I helped,” Joshua added just as quickly.

  They set the bench down and positioned it in a row with another one. Then both straightened and looked at her, removed their straw hats, and put them on again. The older men were already getting more of the benches but Moses and Joshua hesitated, smiling at Becky.

  “You’re a good worker,” Moses finally said.

  “I think so too.” Joshua was grinning. “I’ll bet you’ve been at it since the crack of dawn.”

  “Joshua. Moses.” Lyyndaya approached them. “Thank you. We do need those benches.”

  “Of course.” The two of them almost ran out of the barn.

  “You’re proving to be a distraction.” Lyyndaya gazed at Becky in her dress and pinned-up hair. “Perhaps I should send you to the kitchen.”

  Her daughter immediately lifted another forkful of hay. “Why? I’m working hard.”

  “You are working hard. I’m not sure Moses and Joshua will with you around.”

  “They brought in a bench.”

  “The other men have brought in two or three.” She smiled. “Stay and pitch your hay. But perhaps you should keep your head down for now.”

  “Is that what you did?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With Dad? Kept your head down all the time?”

  Lyyndaya laughed. “Are you courting? Never mind. Do what you like. Your father always knew the color of my eyes.”

  The boys didn’t speak to her again, not with her mother hovering nearby, but Becky could feel them gazing at her. Once she looked up and her eyes met those of Moses. Neither of them looked away. Sun slanting through a window made his eyes green and gold.

  The next day Becky got up when Ruth did and went down to help her mother milk the dairy herd. The sky was still dark, for it was well before daybreak. At dawn there was a breakfast of oatmeal, sausage, eggs, and bacon and then everyone got cleaned up for church. There would be a communal meal after the service and Grandmother Kurtz had baked two large hams that she placed carefully in the warming oven.

  “The women sit over here,” her mother told Becky when they entered the barn for the morning of worship.

  Becky made a face. “All right.”

  “It is the custom among the Amish. You remember that.”

  “I said all right.”

  Becky didn’t know any of the slow hymns or understand the sermons given in Pennsylvania Dutch but she sat in respectful silence, head down, deliberately avoiding looking toward Moses and Joshua. She could feel their eyes on her, though, and decided the sensation was not unpleasant.

  After the service, the meal tables were brought from a few wagons and placed between the benches. Becky found herself seated with Moses on one side of her and Joshua on the other.

  “I remember the last time you were here,” said Moses as they ate.

  “So do I.” Joshua swallowed a mouthful of ham and spoke again. “I think you were sixteen then, ja?”

  Becky poked at her peas with a fork, liking all the male attention but not sure what to do with it. “Fifteen or sixteen, I’m not sure.”

  “And where were you coming from?” asked Moses, who wanted to be sure he stayed in the conversation.

  “And where did you go to?” added Joshua as he carved up a baked potato, refusing to give his friend any advantage.

  Becky suddenly laughed even though inside she felt tense and unsure of herself. “So many questions! I’ll die of starvation if I try to answer them all.”

  Moses smiled. “Well, eat a bit and talk a bit and then eat some more.”

  Becky finished a piece of her grandmother’s ham and wiped the corners of her mouth with a white napkin. “Okay. Before we visited here the last time we were in Africa.”

  “Africa.” Moses thought about that. “I know about the amazing animals. Did you see any of them?”

  “The animals? Yes. Lions, zebras, elephants, rhinoceroses. You must be careful, but they are beautiful.”

  “But what were you doing there?” Joshua drank from a glass of water. “What was the purpose of your visit?”

  “It was more than a visit, Joshua. We were there five years. In Kenya. We helped start a church—Mother, Father, my brother, and I.”

  “Who is your brother?” asked Joshua.

  “Nate. You didn’t see him last time because he joined a missionary organization and went to China.”

  “China!” Joshua bit into a thick heel of bread. “Was he also helping with a church there?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind?”

  “A Christian kind.”

  “Not Amish.”

  “Not Amish. But he taught them to follow the life and teachings of Jesus Christ.”

  Joshua shook his head. “We Amish don’t do that. The bishop has told us many times—and my father has also said it—that it’s not for us to go around the world chasing people and asking them to believe in God. There is the Bible. They can pick it up and read it. That’s all that’s needed. We must be about our life here. That’s how we serve God.”

  Becky put down her fork and knife and looked at him. “You read a German Bible.”

  “Ja, sure, though I don’t read it for myself, I listen to the pastors reading it on the Sundays.”

  “But the Bible was not written in German. Someone had to translate it into German from Hebrew and Greek. What would you do if they hadn’t done that? How could you understand it?”

  Joshua shrugged. “My English is okay.”

  “The Bible had to be translated into Englis
h too. Men and women were killed for doing that. Joshua, people are needed who will travel to a country, learn the language, and translate the Bible into that language. Otherwise people can’t know the story of God’s love. That’s what we were doing in Africa and the Caribbean. Finding their words for the story and then using those words to tell them how much God cared for their families and friends. Talking to them about the Cross. Plopping a German Bible down in front of most people won’t help them at all.”

  Joshua stared at her.

  Aware that a touch of fire had come into her voice, Becky dropped her head and went at her cabbage salad. Moses and Joshua watched her for a moment, realized that something had fallen between them and her, and said nothing. Finally Moses tapped her lightly on the sleeve of her dress.

  “Hey. We take nothing away from what you’re doing. You have served the Lord in the manner you felt was most fitting. We’re taught differently, that’s all.”

  Becky didn’t lift her head. “If you respect the Bible so much, what do you do about Paul’s missionary journeys? All over the Roman world. Shipwrecks. Beatings. Mobs. All because he wanted to tell people God was love, not hate—that he was light, not darkness.”

  Moses nodded. “Of course we know those stories of his sailing trips.”

  “What if he had stayed home and said, ‘Well, the world can read the Bible and that is all they need?’ Especially if the world didn’t have a Bible?”

  Moses held up a hand. “All right. Tell us what happened before Africa.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to know. We both would.”

  “Why?”

  “Please. We’re interested.”

  Becky kept on eating. “There was a lot of flying. We are a flying family. All of us are pilots. I was born in ’22 and went up for the first time when I was five, strapped into my mother’s lap. I was eight when I first handled the controls by myself, still in my mom’s lap. The family became an act at shows all across America. The Whetstone Family Fliers. We did barnstorming, air shows, stunts of all kinds. It’s how we made a living for years.”

  Joshua hadn’t returned to his plate of food. “That sounds reckless.”

  “We took every precaution.”