Naomi's Hope

by Jan Drexler

  “You’ll never be able to stay in this area once people know what you’ve done.”

  Shem barked out a laugh. “They will never believe you. It’s your word against mine. You heard them.” His voice dropped. “You don’t have any proof.”

  The only sound was a quick sob from Naomi as Shem mounted his horse and started down the road toward Elkhart County.

  As soon as he was out of sight, Cap encircled Naomi’s rigid body with his arms and held her close. Finally, the stiffness eased as she started crying. The tears were hot, soaking his shirt.

  “Go ahead and cry.” He held her closer as sobs racked her body. When her knees collapsed under her, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the house. By the time he reached it, she had fallen quiet.

  When he reached the porch steps, she struggled in his arms. “I can walk.”

  Cap strengthened his grasp. “I know you can, but you don’t need to.”

  He opened the door with one hand and carried her through the house to her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and sat beside her. Cupping her soft cheek in his hand, he wiped the drying tears away with his thumb. “I will find him. I won’t give up until I bring him home.”

  Naomi’s red eyes were still wet. “You heard Shem. Those people lied to us about being Davey’s relatives, and they probably lied when they said they were going to Milwaukee. Who knows where they’ve taken him? How will you know where to look?”

  Cap took her hands in his and rubbed her cold fingers. “I’ll start in Steuben County. I think I can find Davey’s farm, and then I’ll find a trail from there.”

  “When will you leave?”

  “They have a week’s head start, so the trail is already cold.” Cap’s eyes itched as they filled with tears. Finding Davey couldn’t be as hopeless as it sounded. Once the Hinklemanns sold the farm, which direction would they take? “I’ll take a few days to harvest my oats and get my farm ready to leave. I should be able to finish everything and be ready to go by Thursday.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I have no idea.” Cap cupped her cheek in his hand again and looked into her eyes. “But I’ll do everything I can to find him. I’ll bring him home to you.”

  23

  Tuesday morning dawned with the same chores waiting for Naomi’s attention that every Tuesday held. The housework and the garden demanded her attention, even though her body was aching and sore.

  Yesterday had marked a week since Davey left with the Hinklemanns, and she hadn’t slept well since that time. And with Sunday’s news that her boy could be anywhere, she felt like her heart had been wrenched in two by a team of oxen. The only comfort was Cap.

  Naomi paused in her task of washing the breakfast dishes and looked toward the trail through the woods. Cap’s presence was like a gentle hand giving her support and strength. He knew the pain of losing Davey and shared it with her. As they grieved together, the pain eased some. Now she knew what Mattie meant. Grief was a heavy burden, but sharing it helped.

  They had only two more days together before Cap left to find Davey. Two days that would fly past, and then she would be left alone. She rubbed at her aching forehead as she thought of all that Shem Fischer had taken from her.

  Mamm came in from the side yard where she had been picking berries. She paused and looked into Naomi’s face. “Are you all right?”

  Naomi shook her head, biting her lip to hold back the tears. “The news that Davey isn’t safe, like I thought he was—” She drew a shuddering sigh. “And then Cap is going away to find him. I don’t think I can take any more, and all of this has happened because of Shem.”

  Mamm gathered Naomi into her arms. “I know. Ever since you told us what he confessed to you and Cap, all I can think about is that poor man, thinking he can gain approval from men.”

  “You feel sorry for Shem?” Naomi pushed away, the tears forgotten. “He purposely set out to harm Cap and used Davey to do it. I don’t feel sorry for him at all.”

  Mamm was silent as she helped Naomi dry the dishes and put them away. When they were done, she turned to Naomi. “I do feel sorry for Shem. He is following a path that will lead to his destruction.”

  “It’s the path he chose. He will reap what he sows and I don’t feel sorry for him at all.”

  “Think about what you’re saying. You are happy that one of our own brothers may spend eternity in hell because of his choices here on earth?”

  Naomi caught her lower lip between her teeth. She had never thought about the reality of hell. It had always been something she didn’t have to worry about. Only outsiders needed to do that. But with Mamm’s words, she caught the vision of Shem suffering eternal torment.

  “Ne. I wouldn’t want anyone to perish like that.”

  Mamm laid her hand on Naomi’s arm. “And you don’t want to go through it yourself, either.”

  “Why would I need to worry about it?”

  “The Good Book tells us to forgive as we have been forgiven. Have you forgiven Shem? Or the Hinklemanns for their part in this?” Her hand grasped tighter. “Have you forgiven Davey?”

  “Forgiven Davey?”

  “Didn’t he hurt you badly when he was so anxious to go with the Hinklemanns, without a thought about how it would affect you?”

  Ach, ja. His rejection was like a hot knife sliding into her heart. “For sure, I forgive Davey. He’s a boy, hardly knowing right from wrong. He was so excited to go with his new family that he didn’t know how much his leaving would hurt us. He wasn’t cruel, he was only thoughtless.”

  “Thoughtless.” Mamm nodded. “But even thoughtless actions leave stains that can’t be erased so easily. Come over here. I want to show you something.”

  Naomi followed Mamm to the chair she often sat in to do the family’s mending. Mamm reached into her mending basket and pulled out Davey’s shirt. The one that had been new until Davey had done something to stain the sleeve, and Naomi had despaired of ever getting the stains out. Now Mamm held up the shirt. Naomi caught the sleeve in her hand. The stains were gone.

  “How did you make it clean again?”

  Mamm sat in her chair and smoothed the shirt on her lap. “Sometimes dirt washes out easily. We wash it once and the dirt is gone. That is like when Davey rejected you. It wasn’t a little thing, but it was easily forgiven because you understand how young he is, and that he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Naomi knelt on the floor next to her. “But this shirt was so stained, I thought it was ruined.”

  “The stains on the sleeve wouldn’t come out, even though we scrubbed and scrubbed. They were embedded in the fabric. There was nothing we could do.” Mamm looked into Naomi’s face. “That is like your feelings about Shem, and the Hinklemanns.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t forgiven them, have you?”

  Naomi started to say she had, but held back. She knew the anger she kept tucked away. She knew the thoughts she had of doing anything to prevent the Hinklemanns from taking her boy. She knew the depths of her own wickedness. She hadn’t forgiven them, and she didn’t think she ever would.

  “How can I forgive them when they were so cruel?”

  “That unwillingness to forgive, your refusal to forgive, is a stain on your heart that nothing will erase.”

  “But I haven’t done anything wrong, they have.”

  “What counts is what God sees when he looks at our hearts. Is your heart good and pure, filled with the light of Christ? Or is it stained with the wickedness of an unforgiving spirit?”

  Naomi turned the sleeve of Davey’s shirt over.

  “My dear daughter, the only way to remove the stain on your heart is to let God give you a new one. A heart turned toward him.”

  “Is that what you did to Davey’s shirt?”

  Mamm nodded. “I cut off the old sleeve and put a new one in its place. I couldn’t erase the stains, so I had to replace the sleeve.”

  All that Naomi had heard
in church and in Daed’s reading from the Good Book through the years had remained a mystery until Mamm’s words sunk into her heart. Phrases filled her mind, words of God’s forgiveness of sinners, of being covered with Christ’s righteousness . . . of his blood being shed for her salvation. As the remembered words fell into place, connecting to each other in an unrelenting progression, she recognized the truth. Blindly following the ways of the church wasn’t what God was asking of her. He didn’t want her prayers or her attendance at meeting. He wanted her. She felt the gentle tug on her heart to submit to God and his way.

  “I need to forgive Shem and the Hinklemanns, I know that. But I don’t want to.”

  Mamm sighed. “What we want and what we should do are rarely the same. But I will pray for our Lord to strengthen you.”

  Fingering the sleeve again, Naomi waited for that strength to come. It would. In time. Until then, she still needed to forgive as much as she could on her own.

  Mamm bent to kiss her head. “When you truly forgive them, the root of bitterness in your heart will be gone. You will feel healed and free. Free to love Cap the way he deserves to be loved.”

  Naomi sat back on her heels. “How did you know?”

  “That he loves you?” Mamm smiled. “Mothers have eyes, you know. I’ve watched the two of you together, and I’ve prayed for your love to grow. He needs you, and you need him.”

  Uncle Wilhelm pulled the horses to a stop. “Davey, come here.”

  Davey ran to his uncle from the back of the wagon. The grass next to the sandy road was dusty, long, and dark green. It felt soft and cool on his hot bare feet.

  His uncle’s mustache twitched as he pointed with the whip he used to flick flies off of the horses. “Is that it?”

  A pile of logs lay ten yards or so from the road, overgrown by weeds. Every day, two or three times a day, Uncle Wilhelm asked him the same question. He would stop along the road and point into the woods.

  He shrugged.

  “Your farm, boy. Is that your farm?” Uncle Wilhelm climbed down from the wagon seat, red-faced and sweating.

  Davey looked at the pile of logs again and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t remember it.”

  Uncle Wilhelm took that folded paper he always carried out of his vest pocket. He looked at it, muttering to himself. “It’s one hundred sixty acres in Steuben County, in York Township.” He peered over the paper at the pile of logs. “This has to be it.”

  “Can we go exploring?” Karl had caught up to them. “Can we?”

  “Ja, ja, ja,” Uncle Wilhelm said. “Just don’t go too far away. We’ll camp here tonight.”

  Franz looked over his father’s shoulder at the paper. “Is this Davey’s land?”

  Uncle Wilhelm frowned at him. “I think so, but we have to make sure.” He smiled at Davey. “You can go play too. Just don’t get lost.”

  Davey wandered toward the log pile, letting Karl and the others run ahead through the woods. What did Franz mean? Was this his farm? He didn’t have a farm. His steps slowed when he reached his goal. The heap in front of him wasn’t just a pile of logs. It was a cabin, wrecked and broken. A chimney rose at the far end, and in front of him was a doorway. He walked up to it and stepped on the threshold with one bare foot.

  A voice sounded in his mind: “Davey, stay inside. A storm is coming.” It was Ma’s voice.

  He looked around. No one was there. No one was watching.

  He bent down to peer through the logs that lay stacked on top of each other. The stone fireplace filled the far wall. Weeds grew in the space where the fire would be. He swallowed.

  “Hide, Davey. In the fireplace. Hide.”

  The wind had roared and the sunlight had disappeared.

  Davey blinked and looked up at the leafy tree branches in the blue sky. He backed away from the tumbled-down cabin. Across the way was another pile of logs. The barn. The cow lived there, and Pa’s horses. The boards covering the well halfway between the barn and the cabin had been broken. He never went near the well. Pa taught him to stay away.

  He turned back to the cabin. Ma was in there, with baby Pru. The memories swirled through his mind. But they were gone. Memmi said the storm killed them.

  Memmi. She wasn’t gone. She was at home.

  “Father!” Franz stood beside some honeysuckle bushes. “Look what I found!”

  Davey went to see. There wasn’t anything there except two long dips in the ground, longer than him, with violets growing in the depressions.

  Uncle Wilhelm looked at the violets. “Ja, ja, ja. Two graves. Just like Shem Fischer thought we might find. This is it.” He looked at Davey. “I thought you were playing with your cousins. Go on, now.”

  Turning around, Davey ran past the well and behind the barn, but he wasn’t going to find Karl. This was Pa’s farm. This was what Uncle Wilhelm had been looking for. What was he going to do?

  Davey crept around the stone foundation of the barn, walking like Crow Flies had taught him. He stopped when he saw a patch of poison ivy and stepped aside to avoid it. He reached the east end of the barn, the only wall still standing, and sidestepped along with his back to the warm logs until he reached the front corner. He peeked around it and saw Uncle Wilhelm, Aunt Greta, and Franz standing together by the well.

  “Why don’t we just settle here?” Franz said. “We have the deed, and it’s a fine farm.”

  “Nein, nein,” Uncle Wilhelm said. “Herr Fischer said we need to sell this land and head for Oregon again, and he was right. If we stay here, who knows what might happen when Davey gets older?”

  “What?” Aunt Greta snorted as she laughed. “Are you afraid of a little boy?”

  Uncle Wilhelm shoved the paper toward her. “His father put the boy’s name on the deed, as his heir. If we don’t sell the land now, while Davey’s still young, he could decide to take it away from us when he is old enough.” He folded the paper again and put it back in his pocket. “You and Franz stay here with the children and set up our camp for the night. I’ll ride one of the horses back to Angola, to the land office there.”

  “Do you need to take Davey with you?”

  “Nein. I don’t need him. I’m his guardian, and I have the papers Shem Fischer gave us, making it all legal. I’ll get the land sold, then we’ll head west again tomorrow morning. Don’t worry so, Greta.” He pinched her cheek. “This is our lucky day. With this money we’ll be able to travel to Oregon without any problems.”

  Davey leaned back against the barn wall. Uncle Wilhelm was going to sell Pa’s farm, but what could he do to stop him? He leaned around the corner again. Uncle Wilhelm was driving the team and wagon up the little lane from the road to the cabin. Pa’s cabin. His uncle unhitched the horses and climbed on the back of one of them.

  “I’ll be back this evening, unless I get to town too late. Then I’ll have to wait until morning when the office opens again.” He pulled his pocket watch out and looked at it. “See you then.”

  Ula, the oldest girl, climbed out of the wagon and waved after him. She didn’t like Davey, and didn’t like traveling. She looked happy to be staying here.

  “Get the canvas out to set up the lean-to,” Aunt Greta said. She sounded tired and grumpy.

  Henrietta, the other big girl, pushed the folded canvas out onto the ground and jumped out of the wagon. “If Papa is going to sell Davey’s land, do we need to keep the boy with us?”

  Franz helped Ula unfold the canvas. “What else would we do with him?”

  Henrietta put an arm around Aunt Greta’s shoulders. “Didn’t Papa say we could leave him in a city somewhere? In an orphanage?”

  “Leave him behind?” Aunt Greta smiled. “That’s something to think about. We already have enough mouths to feed on our journey west. He’s so young that he won’t be able to work for his living for quite some time.”

  Davey slid his back down the log wall of the barn until he sat on the ground. Aunt Greta didn’t want him? She had said she wanted another little bo
y since Karl was getting so big. She had hugged him and petted him, and given him candy. He liked candy. But she had been telling tales. Even Franz didn’t want him. When Henrietta said they should leave him, Franz hadn’t said anything.

  He wanted to go home. Davey squeezed his eyes shut tight so the tears wouldn’t come out. He wanted his memmi. He wanted Cap. And his kitten. And Jethro. Uncle Wilhelm had been in such a hurry to leave that Davey had forgotten to go say goodbye to Jethro, his own little lamb. What had Jethro thought when he hadn’t come back to visit him? He had been gone for such a long time, the little ram might not even remember him.

  Davey sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He could leave. He could walk down the road until he reached home. If he stayed on the dusty, sandy road, it would lead him back to Memmi and Cap. He stood up, then slumped down again. His chest, and his bag with the memory stone. Uncle Wilhelm kept the chest under the wagon seat. He couldn’t leave without it, and it was too big for him to carry. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve again. He would have to leave it behind.

  Except for Ma’s lace shawl. He couldn’t leave that with Uncle Wilhelm and Aunt Greta.

  Once camp was set up, Aunt Greta went into the wagon to lie down. Franz went to find a fishing hole, and the girls lay down under the lean-to. They talked for a while, then all was quiet. The afternoon was hot. Davey heard the other children playing somewhere. Splashing and shouts drifted through the trees. A locust started buzzing in the trees, and then another, and another. A small breeze stirred the leaves hanging over the barn wall.

  Davey crept to the wagon. He peeked into the lean-to. Both girls were asleep. He climbed up the wagon wheel to the seat. Aunt Greta was on her back on the big bed in the back of the wagon. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was open, making funny noises. Davey let himself down into the wagon behind the seat and lifted the lid of his chest. He pushed some papers aside until he found Ma’s shawl. He held it to his face and breathed deeply, but the scent had faded. She was gone. Davey took his bag from the hook where it rode during the day and thrust the shawl inside. He climbed out of the wagon.