Whispers of a New Dawn

by Murray Pura

  They sat in Moses’ buggy and watched the evening sun set in greens and purples. He had one arm around her waist and between them was a large paper bag of popcorn. Now and then he placed popcorn in her mouth or she placed it in his. Their fingers and lips shone with melted butter.

  “Are we going to kiss?” Moses asked.

  “When it gets darker. The term they use now in New York and Philadelphia is necking, by the way.”

  “What? Why necking?”

  “Because we twist our necks around when we do it, I guess.” Becky pushed three pieces of popcorn into his mouth. “We’re going to taste like butter and salt.”

  “I like that.”

  “Yes?”

  “What other flavors do you come in?”

  Becky leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Oh. Lots. If I’ve had a cup of coffee, if I’ve had a glass of milk, if I’ve eaten an orange or a bowl of ice cream, if someone’s given me a chocolate bar—”

  “I’d like to try all of those kisses. Especially chocolate.”

  “No chocolate kisses unless I get my favorite candy bar.”

  “And which one is that?”

  “Baby Ruth.”

  “Ah.” Moses kissed her forehead. “Sure. I know that one. Named after the famous baseball player. The big hitter.”

  “Yes. Though the Curtiss Candy Company says it isn’t. They just didn’t want to pay Ruth any money.” Eyes still closed, she smiled. “Is it raining?”

  “No. How can it? The sky is absolutely clear.”

  “I felt something.”

  “This?” He kissed her on the forehead again.

  “That. It’s not rain?”

  “Okay. Maybe it’s rain. And I’m the rain cloud.”

  “No kissing until it’s dark.”

  Moses played with a strand of her hair. “Does your brother talk about what happened?”

  Becky opened one eye. “Not much. He tells us about living in the mountains with Chinese soldiers. He never talks about Nanking. Most of what he says, we’re not supposed to tell.”

  “But you said the government men told you he saved tens of thousands of lives.”

  “Him and other Americans and Europeans in the safety zone. He refuses to discuss it. I’ve tried to get it out of him but he’s simply not going to open up. The FBI said it was very bad in Nanking. I haven’t told you the half of it.”

  “Danke. You can keep the rest to yourself. I hate war. It is one of the things I most appreciate about my Amish heritage—our mothers and fathers do not raise us to be killers.”

  Becky opened both her eyes. “I understand, Moses. But suppose the Chinese army had been strong enough to stop the Japanese troops? Suppose Nanking had never been captured? Then all those hundreds of thousands of men and women and children would still be alive.”

  “Ja.” Moses rested his hands on his knees and stared out over the darkening fields. “Soon it will be harvest.”

  Becky sat up and put an arm through his. “If the whole world were Amish, that would be one thing. But it’s not. How do people protect themselves from armies that murder and burn and rape?”

  “Not by killing.”

  “How then?”

  “Prayer. The Bible.”

  “But in the Bible it tells us David fought.”

  “Sure. In those days. But Jesus has come, the Prince of Peace. It’s different now. We follow him. Not David. Not Saul.”

  “Should my brother have done nothing?”

  “Of course not. He was right to help the people hide from the Japanese soldiers. He didn’t use a gun to do that, did he?”

  “Thousands were murdered despite his best efforts. Suppose he and the others had been able to drive the Japanese away? Suppose the American army had been there to help them?”

  “The American army?” Moses looked at her. “Why would they be there? America has no quarrel with Japan.”

  “Yes, we do. We have a quarrel with how they’ve shed blood in China and Manchuria. We have a quarrel with the fact they seem to want to go into other countries too and take the oil and steel they need.”

  Moses shook his head. “It’s not for the Amish to quarrel or pick fights. We’re not God, who is the righteous judge of the nations. Let him decide what should be done. We must continue on in the way he has called us to walk, a way without violence or hatred. That’s how we bless America.”

  “Would you protect me?” Becky put a hand on his face. “Would you?”

  “An Amish man will always care for his wife and family. I would never let any harm come to you.”

  “Even if an intruder forced you to fight?”

  “No one will do that.”

  “How do you know? The Chinese men in Nanking tried to protect their women and were bayoneted or shot.”

  Moses’ face hardened. “So if they should kill me I would die shielding you.”

  “And when you were dead they would rape me just the same.”

  Moses didn’t respond. Silence and night draped over the buggy. Becky took one of his hands and laced her fingers through his.

  “I’ve counted seventeen stars,” she said quietly.

  At first he remained silent. Then he brought her fingers to his lips. “Seventeen? That’s good. But it’s not what I wish to know.”

  “What do you wish to know? How many stars there are in the sky?”

  “When will it be dark enough? That’s the greater question.”

  “Well, I’m not sure.”

  He put a hand into his pocket. “Perhaps this will help.”

  “What is it?”

  Moses offered it to her.

  “Oh.” She giggled. “A Baby Ruth. You crazy Amish guy. How could you have one in your pocket? I only told you I liked them a few minutes ago.”

  “It happens I like them. And so does my grandfather.”

  “You do not.”

  “I do. We both do. You should see how many he keeps in his study. Stashes them right beside his Bible.”

  “Can I eat it?” she asked, tearing the wrapper off. “I’m starved.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You won’t be offended?”

  He laughed. “By your eating a candy bar?”

  “I’m not good at sharing Baby Ruths.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not the Baby Ruth I want.”

  “Mmm?” Becky was chewing.

  “It’s the woman eating the Baby Ruth that interests me.”

  “Just a minute.” Becky swallowed and licked her fingertips. Then she leaned her head against his chest, closed her eyes, and parted her lips. “Okay, Candy Man. Come and get it.”

  Moses touched her lips gently with his. “Ah. Very nice. Ich mag Schokolade.”

  “I know what that means. That you like chocolate.”

  “Ich mag dich noch mehr.”

  “Too many words again. You like what?”

  “You.” Moses kissed her softly. “You’re better than a thousand Baby Ruths.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so—”

  He reached over her, surrounding her with his arms and pulled her closer in a chocolate kiss. Finally she grabbed handfuls of his shirt in her fingers.

  “I can’t…I need to…breathe…”

  Moses smiled down at her. “That’s why God gave you a nose. So you could handle long kisses. Learn to use it.”

  “I—”

  But he was kissing her again, cradling her body in his arms.

  “You’re not Amish,” she said between kisses. “You kiss like some sort of movie star, like Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind.”

  “I have never seen one of the motion pictures.”

  “Please don’t. It will just give you more ideas. You’re hard enough to handle as it is.”

  “I wanted to ask you how your classes are going. I forgot.”

  “I’m not surprised.” She brushed her lips over his. “They’re going fine, thank you very much. Pastor King is always going on about whether I’m
becoming Amish for you or for God.”

  “And what’s the right answer?”

  “The right answer for them is God. The true answer is, I’m doing it for both of you.”

  “And God is not jealous?” asked Moses.

  “Why should he be? He brought us together.”

  “Ah.”

  The kisses continued until Becky patted Moses on the back and tugged a shawl about her shoulders—the September nights were cooler than the nights of July and August had been. Milly took them slowly along the road to the Kurtz house where, at ten o’clock, a lamp was still burning in the kitchen. Once she had said good night to Moses, with a light kiss on the cheek that made them both laugh, she went up the steps and opened the door. Her father was still up, sitting at the table with an open Bible and a pad of paper.

  Jude looked up and smiled. “Hi, honey. How was the sunset?”

  “Full of stars.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  She sat down and took an apple from a basket. “Are these the ones I picked yesterday?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Are they washed?”

  “Sure. The rain washed them a week ago.”

  She bit into it. “Why are you still up?”

  “Nate and I were talking for an hour. He waited until everyone else had gone to bed.”

  “Was he telling you about Nanking?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it was bad? As bad as the FBI said?”

  “Worse. I guess he felt he needed to get some of it off his chest.”

  Becky sat still and put down her partly eaten apple. “Are you reading the Bible because of what he said?”

  “I suppose. That and the request from Flapjack and Billy Skipp. I’m reading passages on war and peace.”

  “The bishop would not like to see that.”

  “No?”

  “He would say the matter is settled with the Amish. And with the Whetstones. No war. Ever. No violence. The Amish are called by God to be a peaceful presence in America and the world. No enlistment. No guns. No uniforms.”

  Jude sat back in his chair, yellow pencil in his fingers. “Well, your barrel is full. Been thinking it through?”

  “Moses and I talked about it. We almost got into an argument.”

  “How?”

  “I said that Nanking could have been spared all the murder and rape if the Chinese army had been large enough or strong enough to defeat the Japanese. Then I asked him if he would protect me. He said he would even if they killed him. And I said if they killed him they would just go ahead and rape me anyway.”

  Jude twirled the pencil about in his hand. “It seems to me that the final thing for the Amish is, whatever else may be true, God has called them to be Amish. And to be Amish means you resolve conflicts—all conflicts, whether at home, in our cities, or between the nations—without violence. It is for others to bear arms. For the Amish to bear arms would mean they were rebelling against God’s will for their lives. It would be a sin.”

  Becky rested her chin on her hand. “So at least I will never have to worry about Moses marching off to war and getting shot if America does end up in this fight against Hitler.”

  “No. Unless he has some sort of change of heart when he reads newspaper reports about the German army slaughtering people.”

  “He doesn’t read the papers.”

  “Sometimes his grandfather does.”

  Becky shook her head. “Moses won’t. He’s not a reader. He’s not a free thinker. He’ll stick with whatever approach the Amish take.”

  “You mean he’s not a free thinker like you.”

  Becky shrugged. “Nobody is everything. He has other qualities I like very much. I think we’ll be very happy.”

  Jude nodded and smiled. “So do I, honey. He’s a fine young man. Do you really think you’ll finish your classes in time to convince them you should be baptized in November?”

  “Yes. For sure. Even Pastor King and his wife can’t stop me.”

  “Are they the biggest roadblock?”

  “They think I want to be Amish just so I can marry Moses.”

  “And?”

  “I do want to marry him. And I don’t want to take him away from all this. It works for our relationship here. It may not work somewhere else. I think turning his back on the Amish way would totally destroy him. I don’t think he’d know what to do or who to be. I can’t risk losing Moses Yoder, Dad. He’s too beautiful.” She picked up her apple and put her teeth into it again. “So we’re staying here. For good. I’ll be fine.”

  “Even when planes fly overhead and you’re not piloting one of them?”

  Becky hesitated, taking the apple away from her mouth. “Even then.” She stared at her father a moment. “Yes. Even then.”

  NINE

  Becky glanced out the window as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink. Sheets and pillowcases were flapping wildly on the clothesline as the wind chased leaves back and forth across the yard. A chair scraped behind her and she turned to see her brother settling down at the table.

  “Good morning, Nate. It sure is blowing today.”

  “Kept me up half the night. The window in my room rattles like a skeleton.” He smiled through the sand-colored beard he had decided to grow. “I was chopping some wood.”

  “You shouldn’t do too much. You’ve only been here a few weeks.”

  “I’ve been here more than a month, Sugar Plum.”

  Becky laughed. “Sugar Plum. There’s an old nickname.”

  “I was wondering if I could get a coffee.”

  “Of course.” She pushed aside a large wicker basket full of food so she could reach the coffeepot on the stove. “This was only made an hour ago so it should be okay.”

  “You mean it won’t be like that stuff last week?”

  “That stuff was half a day old.”

  Becky placed a mug by his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Here.” She put a large coaster on the table and set the coffeepot on it. “You can have the whole thing.”

  Nate poured as he watched her put a red-and-white checked cloth over the basket. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Oh, Moses and his father and some of their friends are shingling the Yoders’ barn today. It got damaged during a hailstorm in August. I’m taking over a lunch in an hour or so. Moses’ mother is taking care of the drinks.”

  “Heading off by yourself?”

  “Well, Dad is over there with Uncle Luke and Uncle Harley. He’s supposed to come back and pick me up about quarter to twelve.”

  “Sounds like a picnic. Am I invited?”

  “Sure. If you help me with this crazy big watermelon.” She was trying to keep it from rolling off the counter. “I can never cut the slices evenly.”

  Nate got up and came over, holding his coffee mug. “Aren’t you going to wait until you serve it?”

  “It’s always so hectic. I like to have a couple of dozen slices ready. I’ll pack the whole thing in ice.”

  “All right. Anything to get to one of your picnics. Where’s the knife?”

  She put a long knife in his hand. “Hey. Some of your hair is coming back.”

  “I’m surprised too. The doctors said it wouldn’t. But they didn’t know I had a grandmother who loves to make up poultices.”

  “Did she put something on your head?”

  Nate began to cut into the melon. “It was our secret. We never told anyone. I slept with all these strange mixtures on my scalp the first two weeks. She kept them in place with cloths and string.”

  “Oh, my. I would have paid to see that.”

  “You could never have paid me enough to let you look.”

  “Just think what I could have done with a camera.”

  “Uh-uh, sis. No cameras among the Amish.”

  Hoofbeats sounded in the yard. Becky saw Ruth and Lyyndaya appear in the window with another load of washing to hang up and watched them turn in surprise and call out to the rider. She couldn’t hear the r
esponse. Feet thudded up the porch steps and the door flew open.

  “Excuse me. I’m sorry.” It was Joshua Miller, his face flushed. “Please come, Rebecca. There’s been an accident.”

  “What’s happened?” Becky felt her body go rigid. “Is it my father? Uncle Luke?”

  “It’s Moses. A gust of wind took him off the roof. We’ve sent for the ambulance. No one wants to move him. He’s badly hurt.” He looked at Nate. “I’ve come by horseback to get her more quickly. Can she follow me by buggy?”

  “Yes.” Nate squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll get Katie harnessed.”

  Both her brother and Joshua seemed strange to her. “I…I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Come with me and get in the buggy,” Nate said. “I’ll drive.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can.” Nate looked at Joshua. “Thank you. I’ll just harness the mare.”

  “Your mother and your sister are doing that,” Joshua responded.

  Nate put his arm around Becky and took her out onto the porch. Lyyndaya and Aunt Ruth were talking rapidly to each other in Pennsylvania Dutch as they got the mare harnessed to the buggy. Nate walked Becky down the steps. The two women threw their arms around her and held her tight.

  “Es wird in Ordnung sein,” said her mother, rubbing her back. “It will be all right.”

  “Gott ist gut.” Ruth kissed her. “We will pray together on the way.”

  Nate slowly climbed into the driver’s seat. His mother was about to say something but he shook his head and held up a hand. He grasped the reins. “Get in. Quick.”

  Ruth helped Becky up but Lyyndaya held back. “Grandmother and Grandfather are in the orchard. They won’t know where everyone has gone.”

  Joshua was mounted on his large black gelding. “I’ll tell them. You must go ahead. Please.”

  Nate snapped the reins and called out, and Katie set off at a brisk pace down the lane to the main road. They turned right to the Yoder homestead, wheels and hooves kicking up dust. Nate kept calling, Hey, hey, and flicking the reins. Becky hardly heard him or felt the motion of the buggy. Her mother and her aunt were squeezing her hands and praying at the same time in German. She understood most of the words but they didn’t stay with her. In her mind Moses was sitting up against the barn with his arm in a sling, taking some water from her father, smiling, waiting for her, not as badly off as Joshua had made it sound. But when they arrived she saw a ring of men and women around a body on the ground, and the body had a sheet over it up to the neck. She ran across the farmyard. His tanned face was as white as limestone.