Seeing Your Face Again

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Lois interrupted her thoughts. “I should tell you something. Debbie. You won’t like it though.”

  Debbie glanced at Lois, who had her gaze glued on the plate she’d just dried. Lois looked downright guilty.

  Lois continued. “I was over to speak with your mamm and daett on Sunday afternoon.” Lois let the words hang.

  “Yes?” Debbie remembered Lois had gone for a walk after they came home from the church services. She’d thought at the time it was a little strange. Lois usually stayed around the house on Sunday afternoons. But with the trouble in the community about Alvin, and Debbie’s own worries of the evening ahead when she’d have to face Paul, she hadn’t thought more about it.

  When Lois walked down the drive, Debbie and Ida had both given a little shrug as they watched from the upstairs window. The bishop and Saloma had been taking their afternoon naps at the time, asleep in their rockers. They probably hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

  “Well, it’s like this, Debbie. I’m moving in with your parents for a while.”

  Debbie jerked her head toward Lois. “You’re doing what?” she almost shouted.

  “I spoke with your mamm at length,” Lois said, her voice low. “They’re giving me a place to stay for the time being. Until I get my feet on the ground and find a job. In fact…” And here Lois’s face lit up. “In fact, your mamm said she would help me find work and give me help with all the things I’ll need out there—a driver’s license, some schooling. Your parents are very wunderbah people, Debbie.”

  Debbie tried to speak, but nothing came out.

  “I’m moving this weekend,” Lois continued. Her face took on a glow as she spoke. “This is what I’ve always dreamed of, Debbie. And now I’m going to get a chance to live it. Even though I hope for your sake that Alvin comes back, I’m still so thankful to him. His leaving gave me the courage to finally make the plunge. And you gave me the way it could be done. For so long I’ve wondered how I’d ever get going out there in that wunderbah world, sheltered as I’ve always been. Then I saw the way open up for me by your coming here, Debbie. It was like seeing the path through the Red Sea that the children of Israel traveled on when the Egyptians pursued them.”

  “Lois!” Debbie almost shouted. “You’re not thinking straight! What I did is not what you’re doing.”

  Lois looked over her shoulder. “That’s what you say, but your mamm had a totally different take on it. I could see her eyes shining when I told her what my plans were. She thinks what I think, Debbie. And I know we’re right. It is the same as what you did. You walked away from your world, so why can’t I do the same?”

  “That world is not what you think it is!” Debbie knew the attempt was doomed to failure before she even said the words. Lois had finally gone over the edge, and she had provided the way out. Well Alvin and she had. Now Bishop Beiler would not only mourn the loss of his daughter, he would also surely hold her accountable. Oh, how quickly things changed!

  “You don’t have to look so downcast.” Lois sounded almost chirpy. “I say it’s a fair trade, really. And your mamm seems to think the same thing. You’re becoming Amish, and I’m going Englisha. Everyone’s happy.”

  Debbie said nothing, but she could imagine how the conversation with her mother had gone. No doubt Mom would look at things exactly how Lois described them, though her mother had always disapproved more than mourned her decision to move into the Beiler household. If her mother’s pain came from anywhere, it came from the rejection of her way of life. She’d always dreamed her daughter would follow her into the world of business. Lois would fill that dream in a belated sort of way. Mom was practical, Debbie thought. She’d think better late than never. And Lois had swerved into the one person who would be the most helpful on her venture into the outside world.

  “It’s actually going to happen!” Lois sounded ever more cheerful.

  “Have you told your dad and mom?” Debbie asked.

  A cloud passed over Lois’s face. “Nee, but I’m moving anyway.”

  Debbie sensed Lois’s hesitancy. “You’d better tell them before you go,” she said, pressing her advantage. Perhaps there was still a way to persuade Lois to change her mind before she told her parents her plans. But Debbie knew that even if she succeeded and Lois was temporarily persuaded, the way was open now. As the Amish often said, “Get a cow’s head through the fence, and she’ll find a way out sooner or later.” It was why they worked so hard at prevention. They strove to keep even an inkling of desire for the Englisha world from a person’s heart, rather than depend on persuasion once a person had decided to leave or had actually left. Debbie washed the last bowl and tried one more time. “Lois, please don’t do this. You’re making a huge mistake.”

  Lois said nothing, but her face was pinched with resolution.

  The dishes finished, both girls silently went into the living room.

  “There you two are!” Saloma said, looking up with a smile on her face.

  Debbie sat on the couch, and Lois took a seat beside her.

  Saloma stood and called up the stairs, “We’re ready, Ida!”

  Quick steps followed Saloma’s words, and Ida appeared in the doorway. She rushed over to sit down. The bishop cleared his throat and opened his Bible.

  Debbie stole a quick glance at Lois’s face, but it appeared calm. That was good. Lois would say nothing tonight about her plans. Of that, Debbie was certain.

  Bishop Beiler read from Psalm 31 in his deep voice. “In thee, O LORD, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in thy righteousness. Bow down thine ear to me.”

  The scripture verses couldn’t be better selected for tonight, Debbie thought. The Lord Himself was talking to her through His Word. She prayed silently as Bishop Beiler continued to read. “Please, Lord, help me. Don’t let me harm these people. I know I’m not perfect and I don’t always do what is right, but I really did come to the Beiler home with pure motives. Now it seems as if everything is turning around, and I won’t be able to justify what’s happening. It does look like everything is my fault. First Alvin leaving, and now if Lois really moves in with my parents, there will be no explaining that away. I may have to leave. I don’t want that to happen. I thought I was following Your will by moving into this community. Dear Lord, be my fortress and strong tower right now. And be with Alvin wherever he is in Philadelphia. Comfort his heart and show him that I do love him. Lead him back home again. And talk to Lois. Help her see the sorrow she’s about to bring to her parents’ hearts. Show her how unwise this choice really is.”

  Bishop Beiler finished the Scripture reading and closed his Bible. “Let’s pray,” he said. He knelt beside his rocker without further words. He lifted his head toward the heavens and spoke. “Now unto you, O Lord, all merciful and compassionate Father. Look down upon us tonight and remember us, your frail and broken creation. Of all the things Your hands have made, we are the ones who bring You the most grief and sorrow. We ask that You forgive us our sins and remember our iniquities no more, just as we likewise do for those who trespass against us.”

  Lois sobbed, and her daett paused. When no more sounds followed, he continued, “Remember our community tonight, O Lord, and the trouble we have amongst us…”

  Debbie listened to Bishop Beiler’s voice. This was what she wanted for herself someday. A home of her own with a man who had spiritual depth and strength. If she needed any confirmation as to who that man could be, she received it this very moment. She couldn’t imagine Paul Wagler, the jokester, at prayer like this. Perhaps he would learn to do so in time, as all Amish men she’d met seemed to eventually, but she didn’t want to take the chance. Alvin praying like this? That didn’t take much imagination at all. Even though she’d never heard him pray out loud, she was certain he prayed from his heart. “Lord, please don’t take this away from me,” Debbie pled quietly.

  Ten

  Later that week, on Saturday morning, the breakfast dishes had been cleared away and the house w
as quiet. The winter weather had cleared, and sunshine made the snow glisten through the kitchen window. In Debbie’s mind it was the calm before the storm—at least inside the house.

  “Next week the gut weather will hold,” Bishop Beiler had declared at the breakfast table. “There might even be a warm spell coming our way.”

  “Winter’s far from over though,” Saloma reminded him, as if one needed such a qualifier with the deep drifts that still lay along the road.

  To Debbie, Saloma’s words had double meaning that spelled trouble for her.

  Lois had remained silent all week about her plans to move out, which was unlike her. She usually readily spoke up when she had something to say or big plans.

  Debbie hoped Lois had changed her mind.

  As if Lois knew what Debbie was thinking, she appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Debbie, may I speak with you in private? Outside?”

  Saloma gave them both a worried look as Debbie followed Lois through the washroom door and outside.

  “What are you doing?” Debbie asked once they were out of earshot.

  “I need you to tell Mamm and Daett what’s going to happen today.”

  “Today?” Debbie asked. “You’re doing this today? And without having informed your mom and dad?”

  “I’m not going to wait any longer, Debbie. I’ve lived this life for twenty-two years. I’m absolutely suffocating. The longer I put it off, the worse it will be. Today is the day.”

  “Well, don’t count on me to tell your parents.” Debbie allowed disappointment to sound in her voice. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about your harebrained idea.”

  “My suitcase is packed and under my bed,” Lois said, her voice firm. “That’s all I need. I’ll be getting new clothes anyway.”

  The girl had thought things through, which explained her silence all week. What Debbie had feared was actually going to happen…and today. But Lois would have to tell her parents her news. Debbie knew she’d get enough blame for this without being the one to announce it to the Beiler family.

  “Then I’ll tell them myself,” Lois said, obviously understanding Debbie’s attitude. She took a deep breath. “Will you at least come with me?”

  If she stood by her side while Lois broke the news to her parents, Debbie knew that would look like she was supportive of this move. And she wasn’t. But it felt mean and cruel not to. Lois waited with an expectant look on her face. “Are you coming, Debbie?”

  With a silent groan, Debbie nodded. Somehow she’d have to make it plain to the Beilers that she had no hand in this matter. Lois pushed open the washroom door, and announced their return with a shrill, “I need to speak with all of you.”

  Saloma looked up with shock on her face at Lois’s tone.

  Ida reached over and squeezed Debbie’s hand.

  Thank you! Debbie almost whispered, but she didn’t. At least she had one ally, and Ida didn’t even know what Lois was going to say. Surely they all expected it though. Well, except Emery perhaps. And he wasn’t inside, having gone back out to the barn after breakfast.

  Bishop Beiler had stayed at the kitchen table for a few moments to read the latest copy of the weekly Budget. He glanced up. “Is something wrong?”

  “Apparently Lois has something to say,” Saloma offered.

  Lois remained silent.

  Perhaps there was yet hope, Debbie thought, since this was always the place Lois backed down in the past—when she had to face her parents. But seeing the determined look on her friend’s face, Debbie knew the words would find their way out.

  “You have something on your mind?” Bishop Beiler regarded Lois.

  Lois glanced at the floor, and the words came in a great rush. “I’m leaving home today, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change my mind, and it wasn’t your fault, or anyone else’s fault. And no one encouraged me in any way, including Debbie.” Lois took in a huge breath of air.

  Saloma collapsed on a chair, ashen.

  “You’re leaving?” Bishop Beiler slowly rose to his feet. “Where are you going?”

  Lois didn’t look at any of them. “I’m going down to Debbie’s parents’ place. Her mamm said I could stay in Debbie’s old room. She said she’d help me get a new start in life. And I don’t want any complaints about it either. You took Debbie in, so how is that different from them taking me in?”

  The arrow went deep. Debbie could see that from the look on Lois’s dad’s face.

  “But, Lois,” he protested, “Debbie didn’t go running out into the world. She was seeking Da Hah’s will for her life. She was leaving the world behind.”

  “And I’m doing the same thing in reverse,” Lois shot back. “You know how long I’ve yearned for what Da Hah has for me other than living in this house. You’ve all been gut to me, yah, but I’ve always felt there is more for me than what lies in the community, Daett. Can’t you see that? Out there in the Englisha world there’s learning from books, and from people, and from experience. I don’t want to miss out on all that. And if I don’t take the door Da Hah has opened up for me, I’ll never get out of here.”

  Saloma sobbed quietly.

  Bishop Beiler glanced briefly at his wife before he turned his attention back to Lois. “You’re my daughter, Lois. My youngest, and we love you dearly. How can we lose you like this…to the Englisha?”

  “It’s no more the world than this is the world.” Lois waved her hand around to include the house and farm. “It’s all the same world, Daett. You just call it something else, and make things harder. Perhaps we do that so we can feel like we’re suffering for the faith. Well, it’s not for me.”

  “Did you have anything to do with this, Debbie?” Bishop Beiler’s eyes were piercing as he stared at her.

  Debbie clutched the kitchen doorway frame, but Lois spoke before she could answer.

  “Debbie’s the reason I stayed this past year, Daett. And she tried hard to talk me out of this. Don’t blame her.”

  “But her mamm and daett are taking you in,” the bishop said. “How can that be?”

  “Last Sunday I walked over to visit her mamm. That’s when I told her what I wanted to do, and she agreed to help. Debbie didn’t know anything about it until I told her later. Don’t go blaming her, Daett. You’ve known this was coming for a long time.”

  But you are using her parents as your way out. Debbie could see the words written on Bishop Beiler’s face even though he said nothing.

  Saloma reached up to cling to her husband’s arm. She wailed, “Our daughter is leaving, Adam! Do something, please! Talk to her! Tell her this is forbidden!”

  “There will be no more talking,” Bishop Beiler finally stated. “I’ve said all I have to say. I’ve said it for many years now, and it is enough. Lois knows what she’s doing and what it means.” He guided Saloma into the living room, and they sat down on the couch. His chest heaved.

  Lois stayed where she was for a few moments, and then she dashed upstairs.

  Would she really come back down with her suitcase in hand? After what had just transpired? Debbie wondered.

  “Come!” Ida whispered in Debbie’s ear. “Let’s go speak with her.”

  They climbed the stairs to the soft sounds of sobs from the living room. Lois was already out of her room when they arrived on the landing. She was dragging her suitcase.

  “I want to hear no more words,” Lois said before Ida could open her mouth. “Will you help me with this suitcase?”

  Ida stepped back. “I will have nothing to do with aiding your departure, Lois. Let’s make that clear. If you walk out of this house, you’ll have to do so under your own steam.”

  “And yet you helped Debbie move in,” Lois shot back. “You welcomed her, even knowing her parents were disappointed with her choice to change her life.”

  “It’s not the same, Lois.” Debbie found her voice. “Sure mom was disappointed with my decision, but this is different. It really is. My mom wanted me to move out…expected me to move out…to
ld me to move out.”

  Lois took off down the stairs. The suitcase cleared each step except the last one, banging down with a loud clatter.

  Silence hung for a few moments.

  Ida clung to Debbie’s arm as Lois grabbed the suitcase and moved forward. They heard the front door slam. Ida rushed into her bedroom and headed for the window facing the front lawn. Debbie followed, and the two pushed the drapes aside to watch Lois make her way down the snowy sidewalk. The girl paused for a second to glance back, but then turned and continued toward the plowed lane.

  Emery appeared in the doorway of the barn. He sized up the situation and ran to Lois. He came to a stop, and in his haste his arms flailed for balance on the icy ground. He was obviously firing questions at Lois from the looks of things, and Lois was answering him. Lois soon set the suitcase on the ground to gesture with her hands for emphasis. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out how that conversation was going—or how it would end.

  Moments later Emery turned on his heels and marched back into the barn.

  Lois stood still for a second before she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She picked up her suitcase and continued down the drive.

  “I can’t stand this!” Debbie said, her voice cracking. “I don’t care what happens to me, but Lois can’t walk over to my parents by herself. I’m driving her.”

  Ida squeezed Debbie’s hand. “You do that. I know Daett would wish it, even if he can’t say so himself.”

  That was a bit of a stretch, but Debbie attributed it to Ida’s kind heart. She rushed downstairs and paused for a moment in front of Bishop Beiler and Saloma to explain. “I’m taking Lois over to my parents’. It will look better to my parents, and it might keep some of the bitterness out of Lois’s heart. I don’t like what she is doing, but this has to be hard on her even if she’s acting like it isn’t.”

  Bishop Beiler nodded. “You do what you think best, Debbie. Our hearts are too torn right now to think straight.”