by Jan Drexler
Lydia sighed. “Abraham will give Samuel advice if he’s asked, but he won’t say anything otherwise. Samuel is a grown man and needs to make his own decisions.”
“I just want to do what’s right,” Anna said. “But he won’t give an inch. He says it’s a matter of principle. But what will he do when the time comes for him to report for training? He can’t join the army if he’s going to stick by his principles.”
“I know my son. He likes to wait and let a problem resolve itself, but sometimes they don’t.”
“There isn’t enough time. We need to leave early on Wednesday morning to get to the draft office by nine o’clock.”
“The ministers are taking the fees for the men on the list to the draft office tomorrow.” Lydia shifted Dorcas on her lap. The little girl had fallen asleep.
“Are all the others paying the fee, then?”
“Abraham said that Michael Kuhns has hired a substitute, but the others from our district are paying. The families in the congregation donated enough money so all who need it can use it.”
“How did they come by that much?”
“Some sold things, others had money saved.” Lydia tried not to think of the promising colt Abraham had sold to raise cash.
At the sound of footsteps on the back porch, Lydia took Dorcas into the bedroom and laid her down, covering her with the quilt. By the time she returned, the rest of the family had gathered in the front room. Abraham had brought out the corn popper, and Jonas helped thirteen-year-old Bram get it started over the fire. Lydia sat in her chair and rested her feet on the small footstool. How fine it was to have them all here, talking together. The only thing that would be better was if the other children and their families would come, but that was too much to expect on a rainy afternoon.
After the corn was popped and bowls passed around, the conversation turned to the war. Lydia listened, but she would rather talk of other things. This war continued, in spite of the many folks who wanted it to end. Why couldn’t men just stop fighting? Was that too much to ask?
“Jonas,” Abraham said, “you keep up on the war news. Is there any hope of it being over soon?”
“I thought it would have been over months ago. The Federals are close to Richmond, but they don’t seem to be able to reach the city and take it over.”
“Is the other side too strong for them?” Bram asked. He leaned forward, interested. Lydia shook her head. He was too interested.
“One newspaper article I read said that the South has better generals than the North, and that’s why the Federal troops can’t win.”
Abraham tapped his foot on the floor, a sign that he was getting angry. But Lydia knew her husband would control his anger. He always did. He leaned forward as he spoke. “And meanwhile, battles are fought that give neither side a victory, and men are killed who will never see their homes again.”
Lydia was looking at Samuel as Abraham said this. Her oldest son stared at the floor.
“What are you thinking about, Samuel?” she asked.
He looked at her, his eyes dark. “I’m thinking about how I’d rather talk about anything else but this war. I’m tired of hearing about it, I’m tired of knowing that it’s going on out there.” He stared at the floor again. “And I can’t help thinking about poor Ned Hamlin. How many more men need to die?”
They were silent after Samuel’s comment. Anna reached out to take her husband’s hand.
Jonas stared into the fire as if he hadn’t heard his brother. What was going through his mind?
OCTOBER 7
Tuesday morning was still overcast, but the rain stopped while Jonas was eating breakfast after the morning chores. Datt and Mamm were quieter than normal, passing meaningful looks between themselves. He knew what those looks were about, or he thought he knew.
“You don’t need to wait for me to leave the house before you talk about it,” he said, helping himself to another stack of pancakes. “You’re still wondering what Samuel is going to do tomorrow.”
Datt cleared his throat and pushed his plate away. “You’re right. I’m worried that he didn’t want to talk about it on Sunday.”
“I don’t think he wants to face the truth.” Jonas paused, his fork full of pancakes and dripping syrup. “He doesn’t want to take any of the choices in front of him, so he’s waiting for another one to come along.”
“But there isn’t another choice.”
“So tomorrow, he’ll be on his way to the draft office in Millersburg, and whatever awaits him there.”
Mamm made a small sound and covered her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Mamm. I meant that he doesn’t know what he’ll find when he gets there. Maybe he’s hoping to be sent west, to one of the frontier forts instead of into combat. There are more things for soldiers to do than fight on the front lines.” Jonas put the waiting pancake bite in his mouth, savoring the sweet buttery flavor. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Samuel. He just didn’t understand his brother’s hesitation to make a decision.
“I’m glad we got to spend the afternoon with the family yesterday.” Mamm began clearing the plates. “I do wish he would accept the offer of the church to pay his fee, though.”
Rain drummed on the roof in a sudden sweep. Datt got up to look out the window, then poured himself another cup of coffee.
“No fieldwork today, and I finally have time to oil the harnesses.”
“I think I’ll go over to Samuel’s.” Jonas met Datt’s eyes. “Maybe he’ll talk to me if it’s just us.”
Datt nodded his agreement. “Let us know what he says.”
Jonas’s coat was made from oiled canvas, and his hat was felted, so the rain sluiced off as he skirted the puddles on the way to Samuel’s house. But his feet were still soaked by the time he reached the back porch. Anna saw him coming and opened the door. Her kitchen floor was covered with laundry and he heard the boys playing in the loft.
“Samuel is in the barn.” She stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her. “Are you here to talk some sense into him?”
“He’s decided to go, then?”
Anna’s eyes filled. “He told me to pack a bag for him and put in his winter coat. Don’t let him go, Jonas. Make him see what this is doing to us. To his children.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Jonas ran to the barn, ignoring the puddles, since his feet were wet already. Samuel stood at the back door, looking out into the pasture. He hadn’t heard Jonas come in over the sound of the rain on the roof. Thunder cracked and the rain fell harder.
Samuel didn’t move. Jonas joined him in the doorway.
“It’s a good rain.”
Samuel turned his head. “What?”
“It’s a good rain. This will fill up the ponds before winter sets in.”
“I suppose.”
As his brother looked out into the pasture again, Jonas leaned back on the doorframe, facing him.
“Tomorrow is Wednesday. You need to set out for Millersburg early in the morning, unless you’re going to pay your two hundred dollars at the draft office.”
Samuel didn’t move. The rain let up as a roll of thunder sounded again, farther away this time.
“Mamm and Datt are worried about you. So is Anna. They want to know if you’ve made a decision.”
“There’s no way around this one, Jonas.”
“Is it your pride that’s keeping you from paying the fee?”
He shook his head. “I admit, it would be a sting to go back on my word and pay, but the principle of the matter is still there. That money will be used to continue the war, and I won’t be part of that.”
“The alternative is to be part of the war yourself.”
“Or be arrested.”
“But you can’t do either one. Your family needs you here. Anna needs you.”
Samuel shot him a look, his eyes smoldering. “You think I don’t know that? It’s tearing me apart. My responsibility is here. But what example would I be giv
ing to my boys?”
“If you pay the fee, you’re showing them that you refuse to fight in the army.”
“If I pay the fee, I’m showing them that my life is more important to me than another man’s.”
Jonas didn’t have an answer to that. He tried a different tactic.
“If you report to the camp in Mansfield, you’ll also be turning your back on your vows to the church. Have you thought of that?”
Samuel’s shoulders slumped. “I can only hope I’ll be forgiven once I confess my sin.”
“But you’re taking this action knowing full well that you’re breaking those vows. What if . . .” Jonas searched his mind for an example to use. “What if you married another woman in another town and live with her for a year. Do you think Anna would take you back just because you said you were sorry?”
Samuel stiffened. “That isn’t the same thing.”
“You pledged to support the teachings and the regulations of the church. Part of that is submitting to nonresistance. When you purposefully turn your back on that promise, you turn your back on the church and its teachings, just like you would turn your back on Anna if you took up with another woman.”
No answer came from Samuel. The rain had stopped, and sunshine was breaking through the clouds. The scene outside the barn door was fresh and clean, as if God had given the world a fall cleaning.
“You’re right,” Samuel finally said. “I’m sacrificing my life in the church, my marriage, and my home.” He took off his hat, running one hand through his hair. “But I can’t . . . I can’t pay that fee.”
Watching his brother’s face, Jonas had a sudden thought, as clear as a vision, that he would never see him alive after today. He had to do something to prevent Samuel from sacrificing everything.
“I’ll go.” As he said the words, the thought of his own sacrifices flashed through his mind. But it would be a temporary sacrifice. Not permanent. Not like Samuel’s would be.
Samuel looked at him. “You can’t go. I was the one who was drafted.”
“I’ll be your substitute.”
“Ne. I won’t let you. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
“But I haven’t joined the church yet. I don’t have a wife or family. I wouldn’t be breaking any vows.”
Samuel ran his hand through his hair again and Jonas’s hopes grew. He was considering the idea.
“This is the way around your problem, Samuel.”
“I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You’re not asking. I’m telling you. This is the only way.”
“Mamm and Datt won’t let you go.”
“They won’t know until I’m already gone.”
Samuel shook his head. “You won’t do this. It isn’t an option.”
His brother’s face was set in the expression Jonas knew too well. He wasn’t going to change his mind. But being stubborn ran in the family.
Katie laid the piece of navy blue cotton on the table and applied the iron, straightening the wrinkles. Her sisters and sisters-in-law had given her piles of fabric scraps and remnants, and with the rain this morning and the continuing threat of showers this afternoon, she finally had the chance to start preparing them for her quilt top. The kitchen was pleasant with the tantalizing aroma of a dish of sausages and cabbage roasting in the oven for supper, and the sight of the irons lined up on the stove top created a warm, satisfied feeling.
Papa was working at Wilhelm’s and Mama had gone with him to visit with Esther and their four little boys, and Katie loved having the quiet house to herself, knowing that she had the freedom to do whatever she wanted.
She laid the navy fabric aside and took the last scrap. This task was nearly done, and then she could start cutting the scraps to fit her blocks. As she ironed the green material, Katie turned it around, trying to see it in the quilt top. Should she make a crazy quilt? Mama said they were the best, since they used every scrap of fabric. But Katie wanted this quilt to be special. Crazy quilts were for every day. She had seen a pieced quilt at Millie Beiler’s house one time. Her mother had made it from squares of fabric arranged in a diamond pattern. The colors had blended together beautifully, turning an everyday bedcover into a work of art.
After taking the irons off the stove to cool, Katie laid the stack of ironed scraps back in the box where she stored them. After supper she could start cutting them. Squares. Her chin lifted as she made her decision. Even if Mama did think it was wasteful, this quilt would be pieced in squares, and it would be beautiful. She fingered the green piece on the top. She would have a lifetime of making do, of using every scrap, of making things last. This one quilt could be made for beauty as well as function, couldn’t it?
A knock at the door startled her. “Katie?”
Opening the door to Jonas, she greeted him with a hug, right on the doorstep. “I was thinking about you.”
He pulled her arms from around his neck, looking past her into the house. “Your parents must not be at home.”
“They’re spending the afternoon at Wilhelm and Esther’s.”
“Get your shawl, and we’ll sit out here. I have something to tell you.”
By the time Katie returned, Jonas was sitting on the washing bench. With the cooler weather, the washtub and towel had been put away, so it made a good place to sit. She wrapped her shawl closer and sat next to him. As she glanced at his face, Katie’s joy at seeing him turned to worry.
“Is something wrong?” She moved closer to him, partly for warmth, and partly for assurance that his solemn expression didn’t mean there had been an accident.
“What I’m going to tell you, you need to keep secret. At least for a few days.”
Katie nodded, taking his hand in hers.
“You know that Samuel’s name was on the draft list.” He didn’t look at her but stared into the woodlot across the road. “He can’t join the army, and he won’t pay the fee.”
“What is he going to do?”
Jonas grasped her hand in both of his, pulling it even closer to him. “Nothing. Samuel is going to stay home, work on his farm, and raise his family.”
“But won’t he be breaking the law if he does that?”
“Not if he has a substitute.”
“I heard him say he wouldn’t hire someone to fight for him.”
“Katie—” His voice cracked and he paused. “I’m going to be his substitute.”
Her breath stopped as if a weight pressed on her lungs. But no, it couldn’t be true.
“That isn’t something to tease me about, Jonas.” She tried to laugh at how ridiculous the idea was.
“I’m not teasing.”
“Samuel would never allow you to take his place.” She shook her head. Jonas was serious. Too serious.
“He doesn’t want me to, but I’m going to do it anyway. It’s the only thing to do. Samuel has responsibilities, where I have none—”
“What am I?” Heat rose in Katie’s cheeks and her stomach swirled. “What about our plans? Our dreams?”
“I won’t be gone forever.” Jonas smiled, but his reassurance didn’t change anything. “This war can’t last much longer. I may not even reach the front lines before we’re all sent home.” He moved closer, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’ll be back in time for our wedding next summer. I wouldn’t leave if I thought I’d be gone longer than that.”
A slow dripping from the house eave told Katie that it was raining, a light shower that she could barely see in the air. But the clouds had gathered again, blotting out the late-afternoon sun. She turned away from him, pulling her hand out of his grasp, and walked to the edge of the porch. Down the road, toward the partially built house nestled in the woods on the other side of the creek, her view was obscured by the misty rain. The drops increased until they were a steady downpour.
She couldn’t think. Not past the pounding in her mind. Jonas couldn’t leave. He couldn’t. He was supposed to stay here. He would be safe here.
Her
face was wet. She couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. She wiped the corner of her shawl across her eyes, just as he came up behind her. He grasped her shoulders in his warm hands, then slipped his arms around her so that he was holding her, his hands clasped around her waist. Closing her eyes, Katie leaned back against him.
“I’ll write to you.” His voice was muffled. Strained.
“If you tell me where to send the letters, I’ll write to you too.” She turned around, clinging to him. “When do you leave?”
“Tonight. After dark, so that I reach Millersburg before Samuel gets there. I’ll leave my parents a note to keep them from worrying. But I don’t want anyone else to know what I’ve done. I don’t want anyone to come after me, trying to stop me.”
Hope rose. “Could that happen?” Katie saw herself running down the long road to Millersburg, pleading with him to come home.
“Nothing is going to change my mind, Katie. There would only be arguing and heartbreak, and I don’t want to leave that way. It’s better to do it quietly.”
Katie nodded. If these were going to be her last moments with him, she didn’t want to disagree, as much as she wanted to keep him from going. But she couldn’t let him go without telling him . . .
“You know that you’re sacrificing everything, don’t you?”
“Not everything.” Jonas tightened his hold. “I’m not giving you up.”
“But you’re leaving me behind. You chose this, Jonas, but I didn’t. You’re asking me to wait and to worry while you’re off—” Anger rose, even though she tried to tamp it down. She bit her lip, keeping back the terrible words she wanted to say. Her entire body ached. She had to tell him.
“If you go, you won’t come home.”
“For sure I will, just as soon as I can. I love you, Katie.”
No, you don’t, she wanted to say. But she didn’t.
“I mean it, Jonas. Don’t go. Please don’t go. If you do, something terrible will happen.” Movement on the path leading to Wilhelm’s caught her eye. “Mama and Papa are coming home.”
“The rain shower has stopped. Walk with me, at least to the road.”