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Holding a Tender Heart

Page 18

by Jerry S. Eicher


  “Thanks, Mom.” Debbie sat down again.

  Her father acted like he hadn’t heard the exchange. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “That was really good, Debbie! Thank you!”

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  He looked at her for a few seconds. “There’s something I need to tell you, Debbie. I don’t want this to be a great shock, but then I suppose you know that even Amish people have their problems.”

  Debbie glanced at him. “Yes, I know the Amish have their problems. What’s going on? Is there something you think I should know about?”

  He shrugged. “You may not even know the person involved since this is a rather large Amish community, but…”

  “Just say it, Herbert,” Callie said.

  Her father leaned toward the coffee table and picked up the paper Callie had been reading. He showed Debbie the front page. “I don’t suppose you read the newspaper anymore.”

  Debbie eyes traced the headlines. Local Couple Under Arrest in Robbery Heist. Underneath in smaller letters were, Police expect further arrests to follow.

  Debbie met her father’s gaze. “You’re not saying these were Amish people? That’s not possible.”

  He shook his head. “No, but the arrests that follow will include at least one Amish man. The girl involved fingered him. Her former boyfriend, she claims. She’s cut a deal with the prosecutor for a lighter sentence if she testifies against him. That sort of thing.”

  “How do you know this?” Debbie asked, suddenly feeling defensive.

  “One of the sheriff’s deputies came to the garage this afternoon. They picked the man up at noon today, and he was arraigned on the theft charges. He’s out on bail now, so I guess the judge didn’t consider him a flight risk. The charges are serious enough. Breaking and entering, robbery, all that.”

  “Who is he?” Debbie tried to still her beating heart.

  “An Amish man by the name of Joe Weaver.”

  Debbie leaped to her feet and steadied herself using the couch. “Joe Weaver? I have to get back right now. Verna has been seeing him. I need to let her know.”

  “You know this man then?” her mother asked, now on her feet too.

  Debbie was already making her way to the door. She called over her shoulder, “Yes, I do. He’s Verna’s boyfriend. I have to tell her!” With that, she flew out the door.

  Twenty-Four

  An hour later Debbie sat on the couch with Saloma. Verna was seated between them, her head in her hands, her loud sobs filling the room. As it turned out, when Debbie arrived Deacon Mast was already there with the news. Her race across the fields had been for nothing. The Beiler family already knew about Joe’s arrest.

  It was only after Deacon Mast and Bishop Beiler left, the sound of their buggy wheels moving out of the driveway, that Verna’s sobs had begun. Lois and Ida stood a few feet away, on the verge of tears themselves. No one said anything as Debbie and Saloma clung to Verna’s arms. What was there to say? Their world had fallen in because Verna’s had.

  How could Verna have been so wrong in her judgment of Joe? She’d often said Joe was the only man for her—that he was an honest and caring man. And now this! Joe charged with breaking and entering! Robbery too. Surely there must be some mistake. But Deacon Mast had sounded sure of the charges, and he ought to know.

  Verna wailed, “He didn’t do it!”

  Debbie tightened her grip on Verna’s arm. Denial was the first reaction in the face of tragedy. Psychology classes had taught her that much, and Verna was following the norm to the letter.

  “There, dear,” Saloma soothed. “Daett will look into it, and he’ll tell us.”

  What Saloma meant was that when Bishop Beiler came back with Joe’s confession, Verna would have no choice but to accept the news. Still, it might not be enough. If Debbie knew Verna, acceptance wouldn’t be easy. Verna loved the man deeply.

  “I know Joe. He wouldn’t do something like this.” Verna lifted her face toward the ceiling and continued weeping.

  “You should lie down now,” Saloma said. “Come…it will feel better in your own bed, and maybe you can sleep.”

  “I don’t want to lie down ever again,” Verna wailed.

  “She’s making no sense,” Ida whispered.

  Saloma shook her head and motioned for both girls to stay away. She leaned closer to Verna. “Listen, girl! You have to gather yourself together. This isn’t how we act. Remember that! You’ve had enough crying. Joe isn’t dead. Let Daett look into the matter with Deacon Mast.”

  “This is worse than dead,” Verna choked out. “If he were dead, I could mourn at least.”

  Saloma stood and lifted up on Verna’s arm. Ida raced to open the stair door for them, and the two stumbled up the steps.

  “Mamm will take care of her,” Ida said, but she didn’t look very convinced.

  Debbie listened to the sobs coming from upstairs. Not much was going to help Verna tonight. In the meantime, there was the house to clean up. It was unlikely the supper dishes had been finished while she was gone. Debbie peeked into the kitchen. That seemed to bring Ida and Lois out of their trance. Ida dashed toward the kitchen. Lois shrugged, as if she didn’t care one way or the other about the house, and then moved into the kitchen too. Debbie knew enough about the Amish to realize that duty was still duty. And an Amish home was never left unattended, even in times of disaster. She followed the two into the kitchen and began to dry the dishes as Ida washed.

  “Were you over at your parents’ when you found out?” Ida asked.

  “I…I was with Mom and Dad. Dad told me. He found out from a deputy sheriff who stopped in at the garage.”

  “Poor Verna,” Ida whispered. “You should have heard her talking to me just the other day. She was so convinced everything was going well.”

  “I’m sure no one expected something like this,” Debbie assured her. “Does anyone know who the girl is who accused him?”

  “A girl?” Lois’s eyes grew wide. “We don’t know anything about a girl. Only that Joe was taken in on charges by the Englisha police. That’s all Deacon Mast said.”

  Debbie looked away. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to make things worse than they already are.”

  “Nee, Debbie,” Ida disagreed. “We need to know this. Lois, go tell Mamm. She can ask Verna if she knows more about it.”

  Lois shook her head. “Verna’s not in any shape to talk about anything. Listen to her crying upstairs.”

  The kitchen was quiet for a moment, broken only by the soft sobs coming down through the open stairway door.

  “See?” Lois looked very wise. “I wouldn’t say a word at the moment. Verna might lose her mind if she thinks there’s an Englisha girl involved yet.”

  Ida began to wash the dishes again.

  “An Englisha girl,” Lois muttered moments later. “Who in the world was Joe involved with? And with Verna loving him the way she did?”

  “We don’t know for sure it’s true,” Ida said, rinsing a saucepan.

  “I wouldn’t have thought Joe would have an Englisha girlfriend,” Lois said. “Would you?”

  Debbie shrugged. “If you were talking about Paul Wagler, I’d say yes, but I have to agree with you. Joe doesn’t seem the type. But then you never know. Paul and Joe are best friends.”

  Ida flinched at the mention of Paul’s name, Debbie noticed.

  Lois gave a little snort. “Paul probably corrupted Joe.”

  “Sometimes you can’t tell by the outside,” Ida said timidly.

  Lois made a face. “I can’t believe you’re sticking up for the man, Ida.”

  Ida didn’t say anything, and Debbie understood. Ida had an affection for the dashing Paul. It wasn’t surprising. A quiet, inward-looking girl like Ida would naturally be attracted to such an outgoing character.

  Minutes later footsteps came down the stairs. Saloma appeared in the doorway and then collapsed onto a kitchen bench. “She’s sleeping. I never thou
ght I’d live to see this day. My future son-in-law arrested.”

  “I doubt if he ever will be your son-in-law,” Lois said.

  “I know,” Saloma said. “Poor Verna. She’s liable to get ill over this. O dear Hah, we need Your strength. Help us get through this.”

  Debbie slipped onto the bench beside Saloma. Ida dried her hands on the dishcloth and sat down on the other side of her mamm.

  Mamm clung to their hands, and whispered under her breath, praying.

  Debbie could only catch phrases here and there.

  “Gott im Himmel…help us please. This is too heavy to carry…oh please comfort Verna’s heart.”

  Moments later a buggy turned into the driveway. Saloma jumped to her feet. “It’s Daett! Go up and be with Verna, Ida.”

  Lois had rushed to the kitchen window. She said, “Nee, it’s Emery come back from his trip into town.”

  “We’ve forgotten all about Emery!” Saloma exclaimed. “He’ll be hungry, and the dishes all washed up already.”

  “I’ll get something ready for him.” Lois rushed about the kitchen.

  Saloma waved her hand at Ida. “You’d best still check on Verna. She might have heard the buggy come in and shouldn’t be alone.”

  Ida left at once.

  Debbie stood up. “What can I do? I want to help.”

  “You can set the table,” Lois told her. “And tell Emery what’s going on when he comes in.”

  “I’ll tell him.” Saloma sighed and sat down again. “He’s my son, and he should hear this news from my lips.”

  Long moments passed. Lois kept up her glances out the kitchen window. “He’s coming in,” she finally reported.

  Before Emery arrived the silence was broken by soft steps on the stairs. Ida appeared with Verna on her arm. Verna’s face was white and tear-stained.

  “Wait!” Saloma said as soon as the washroom door opened. Emery stepped in and stopped short with his hat in his hand. With a quick glance he took in the room. “So it is true,” he said. “I told myself this wasn’t possible.”

  “Then you’ve heard?” Saloma sounded almost relieved.

  They all turned as a soft sob escaped Verna’s lips. “You don’t believe this, Emery, do you? Joe didn’t do this. You know he didn’t.”

  Conflict raged on Emery’s face. “I don’t know if I really have an opinion on the matter, Verna.” He stepped closer to take her hand. “But it doesn’t matter what you and I think. This is a matter for the Englisha law, and they don’t ask what we think.”

  “Oh it matters, Emery!” Verna’s face blazed. “It matters to Joe an awful lot. He must not think that I believe this awful thing.”

  “I’ll guess we’ll see.” Emery gave his sister a quick hug. “I’m sorry for you, Verna. This can’t be easy.”

  Saloma stepped forward. “Go into the living room and sit down, Verna. Take her to the couch, Ida, before she passes out.”

  Verna obeyed Ida’s tug on her arm and took faltering steps forward. The two disappeared through the kitchen doorway.

  Saloma turned to Emery. “Where did you hear this thing?”

  “I met Wayne at the feed mill, and he had just heard.”

  Saloma groaned. “This is a terrible thing. Daett will have his reputation destroyed. He was always so careful what boys he allowed to date his girls. And yet this has happened.”

  Emery gripped his mamm’s shoulder. “The people will understand that Daett had nothing to do with this. And Verna wasn’t dating Joe that long.”

  Lois interrupted. “Sit down, Emery. I have the food reheated. But did you have to be this late?”

  Only Lois would dare scold at a moment like this, but Emery took it in stride by ignoring her comment.

  When Lois placed the food on the table, Emery asked, “Where’s Daett?”

  “Daett went with Deacon Mast after he arrived to tell us,” Saloma said.

  Emery grunted. “I hope they excommunicate the man on the spot.”

  “Emery!” Lois scolded. “That’s not a gut attitude. And what if Verna hears you? Didn’t you see how much she longs for support? You don’t want her heart broken even further.”

  “Nee, I don’t,” Emery agreed, his mouth full of food. “I’ll watch my words, but Joe should not have done what he did.”

  “Anyone can figure that out,” Lois snapped. “See if you can think of something more helpful than that.”

  Emery chewed, ignoring Lois again.

  Saloma got up, and Debbie followed her into the living room. There Verna and Ida clung to each other on the couch, and the two women gathered around them. Debbie slipped her arm over Verna’s shoulder and silently prayed again.

  Twenty-Five

  Several hours later that evening the sun was setting, the long, summer dusk slowly blending into darkness. Bishop Beiler still wasn’t back, but it couldn’t be long now, Debbie thought as she glanced at the wall clock. It was close to nine-thirty. Debbie stifled a yawn. Beside her on the couch, Verna leaned against her shoulder, exhausted from weeping. Saloma paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, and Lois came around occasionally to refill their cups of hot tea.

  The tea had been Ida’s idea once it became obvious that the evening wouldn’t end early. Saloma hadn’t objected. Debbie’s cup now sat on the footstool in front of her, half empty; Verna’s was untouched. None of Saloma’s constant urges could bring Verna to take a sip.

  Above their heads the gas lantern hissed. Sleepiness crept over Debbie, but the others—except for Verna—seemed to manage better…or perhaps they just didn’t show their weariness. The Amish could be stoic in times of crisis, though Verna had also demonstrated the depths to which they felt their emotions.

  Saloma paused in front of her daughter again. “Verna, you have to take some nourishment. You have to keep up your strength.”

  Verna looked up, apparently aroused to action for the first time. “Is Daett home?”

  “Nee, but he will come before long. And how are you going to listen when he speaks if you have no strength?”

  Verna sat up and reached for the cup of tea. She took a sip and then another one.

  “That’s a gut girl,” Saloma encouraged. “Now drink all of it.”

  “How long are we staying up?” Lois asked from the kitchen doorway.

  “No one has to stay up who doesn’t wish to,” Saloma said. “Emery’s already gone to bed. But I’m sure Verna wants to wait for Daett, and I’m staying up with her.”

  “Me too,” Ida chimed in.

  “Then I’m staying too, but I do wish he’d hurry.” Lois paused to listen. “Is that him now?”

  Silence fell as they listened to the sound of buggy wheels in the driveway.

  Lois raced toward the front door and said over her shoulder, “I’ll go help him unhitch.”

  Lois had gone in search of information, Debbie guessed, but if she knew Bishop Beiler, Lois’s quest was in vain.

  “I hope your dad has a good report,” Debbie whispered in Verna’s ear. “Should I go upstairs now?”

  Alarm showed on Verna’s face. “You’re not leaving, are you? I want you here.”

  “But I’m not family.”

  Saloma stopped her. “Debbie, you’re staying. This is something everyone will find out anyway.”

  “Yah, please,” Verna begged. “I need you.”

  Debbie settled back on the couch as the front door opened. Lois came in, followed by the bishop. His face was sober as he took off his hat and hung it on the wall hook.

  The news wasn’t good, Debbie decided. She wrapped her arm around Verna. Verna began to cry again, so she must have come to the same conclusion.

  When silence finally settled over the room, Saloma spoke up. “Sit down and tell us, Adam, please. We’ve been up waiting for you.”

  Bishop Beiler shook his head. “You should all be in bed. There’s nothing to be done.”

  “Then tell us what happened,” Saloma insisted.

 
Bishop Beiler sat on his rocker and glanced around the room. “There isn’t much. The police arrived at the Weaver place with a search warrant. They went through the house and barn but found nothing. After that, they took Joe to the police station, did whatever they do there, and released him when Joe posted the bond.”

  “Is Joe guilty of this thing?” Saloma asked.

  “Of course he isn’t!” The explosion came from Verna, who sat up straight. Her gaze burned into their faces.

  Bishop Beiler motioned for Verna to quiet down. “There’s no use working yourself up, daughter. Joe continues to claim he’s innocent—even after a dozen of his relatives spoke with him tonight. They all took their turn talking to the man. After that Deacon Mast and I had questions for him. Joe will not confess to anything. Yet the Englisha police claim they have a solid witness. They also say they have stolen items with Joe’s fingerprints on them.”

  “It’s not true!” Verna wailed. “If Joe says he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it.”

  “Verna,” Bishop Beiler said, “you will have to face this head-on and understand the meaning of the situation. It looks like Joe has deceived all of us and brought great shame on the community. He was doing things in his rumspringa time that even his parents were not aware of. Apparently that is why Rosy cut off the relationship—when she found out.”

  “Rosy knew about this?” Saloma leaned forward.

  “She did not!” Verna exploded again. “This is all lies. All Rosy knew was that Joe had an Englisha girlfriend. There was nothing about stealing.”

  They all looked at Verna. “An Englisha girlfriend?” Ida’s voice was laced with horror. “So that’s true? And you knew?”

  Verna didn’t answer as she sagged against the couch back.

  “I’m afraid that part at least we know is true,” Bishop Beiler said. “Joe confessed tonight to having an Englisha girlfriend, something his parents already knew about—and Rosy of course. But I did not know of this, and neither did Deacon Mast.”

  “You can’t keep track of what all the young people do during their rumspringa time,” Saloma came to her husband’s defense.

 

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