Sadie’s Montana Trilogy

by Linda Byler

  “You know, I must not have been all bad. I loved her. If I could only tell her that. You will someday, right, Mark? Tell her how cute she was, how I kissed her. I did love her.

  “But you know, the love I have for her is such a tiny drop compared to the love we receive from heaven. The angels love me now, Well, I guess they did before, but I just didn’t accept it. They’re waiting for me. Not me. My soul. It’ll fly away when I stop breathing.

  “You know, I loved Atlee at one time. I love him now. I can’t wait to see him. And I don’t have to tell him I’m sorry. He already knows. Isn’t that wonderful?

  “Praise his name! Praise his goodness!”

  And she was singing softly, humming under her breath. Then she slept, her thin chest heaving, then rising and falling slowly.

  Her lips were so dry, so painfully cracked and brittle. Ever so gently, Sadie wet a sponge and moistened the once-beautiful mouth. Meely moaned with pain in her sleep.

  Tom sat with his head bent. He held Meely’s hand, whispering his prayers, still praying her through this.

  Sadie sat wrapped in her robe, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her head resting on the back of the red wing-chair, her legs drawn up and curled beside her.

  Mark sat on the carpet, his head resting against the arm of the chair. They could barely stay apart from each other now. Their engagement opened a whole new world of love, dispelling any insecurities or doubts about each other’s feelings that they may have felt before. They often discussed their plans to spend the rest of their lives together.

  Tom had cried openly when they told him about their engagement. He cried, laughed, rejoiced, even danced around the kitchen, singing an English wedding song. Mark recognized it, but Sadie was completely perplexed.

  He brought a cake, served it with ice cream. Malinda and his three “men” came, too.

  Malinda was at least 250 pounds and had the most beautiful face Sadie had ever seen. She wore a multi-colored silk head wrap. Her beautiful eyes were pools of liquid amber, and perfect black eyebrows accentuated her golden brown complexion. Her full, soft lips were always drawn into a half-smile. Her clothes made her look like an African queen in swaying, brilliant skirts. A smartly-cut top made her silhouette appear well formed. A person of unquestionable presence, her movements sort of sailed through the rooms.

  Their three boys, whom Tom called his “men,” were polite, well-spoken, and seemed completely happy and well adjusted. Teasing their parents, —“Jus’ jivin’ wid ya,” they’d say—their handsome faces were wreathed in smiles almost all the time, their laughter quick and easy.

  Sadie wondered what kept those loose jeans from falling down, the only saving grace being the looser T-shirts that nearly reached their knees. Their odd shoes were either orange, green, or purple. Jeptha wore what looked like black pantyhose on his head, while Levi wore his hair in long coiled cornrows.

  The family was full of an endless stream of laughter, love, and a generous helping of goodwill toward everyone in the room and outside of it.

  Sadie asked Malinda if the family always got along in this manner and was astounded to hear an adamant, “No! Oh, no. Huh-uh, man. Who you think we are, huh? We people.”

  After they all left, Sadie and Mark looked at each other and laughed.

  “What a great family!” Mark said, shaking his head.

  The Hospice nurse left a short while later, so they went to the bedroom to sit with Meely while she slept. They didn’t try to touch her at all, knowing it would only bring pain rather than comfort.

  They took their seats and made themselves comfortable, ready to keep the vigil once more. They noticed something different. There was a quiet aura about Meely—too quiet.

  Mark looked at Sadie, a question in her eyes. She responded with raised eyebrows.

  Had she passed away so suddenly? When she was all alone? But, no. She was still breathing, though it was shallow and erratic, almost imperceptible. Then she stirred.

  Mark reached her first. He put out his hands to guide her as she slowly sat up, but surprisingly, she needed no assistance.

  Sadie was at Mark’s side, astounded.

  “We can’t…” she began.

  But Mark held a finger to his lips. They watched in disbelief as she turned her body and moved to put her feet on the floor. Their hands were outstretched, ready to catch her, but there was no need.

  Was the setting sun casting this golden glow throughout the room? Or was it the glow of hovering angels?

  Slowly, Meely’s thin white feet touched the carpet. As if in a dream, she lifted her thin arms and walked to Mark. She smiled, and her dark eyes filled with a light beyond earthly comprehension.

  With a soft cry, Mark enfolded her in his strong brown arms. Then they swayed, back and forth, in soft, undulating movements.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered, her dance of love complete.

  Mark bent his head and kissed his mother’s cheek, then led her back to the bed. He laid her down quietly and gently. He held Sadie in one arm, his dying mother in the other, while cleansing tears of healing rained down his cheeks.

  “Goodbye, Mam,” he choked.

  And then Sadie knew she was gone. Her soul had taken its flight.

  It seemed she had been partly in heaven and partly here on earth when she danced with Mark. She only needed to give away this great love before she left to be with Jesus.

  Mark knelt by his mother’s bed, sobs coming hoarsely at first, until the power of them sent him to the floor, where his grief turned to tormented keening that could not be stopped.

  Wisely, Sadie stayed back. This was not ordinary grief.

  This, she supposed, is what happens when a person takes her own way. She is like a barge propelled by a huge diesel engine of self-will, leaving disappointment and all-consuming sadness in its wake. When the end comes, when the barge runs aground and spills toxic oil into the pristine sea, it is those left behind who deal with the slick, poisonous hatred of unforgiveness for the rest of their lives.

  But there was Jesus’ forgiveness, yes. And there was closure for those damaged in the wake, oh, yes!

  Sadie would never forget this moment. Sadie would never forget the sweetness of that whispered, “Goodbye.” But to see Mark in the throes of this disappointment was almost more than she could bear. The disappointment of a wasted life. The anger of every hardship he had ever endured. The desperate, endless, life-draining swimming to get out of the toxic oil.

  Now he had partially saved himself. He had to try and save his siblings. At least find them.

  The future looked daunting and dangerous. All Sadie could see was a black dragon breathing fire, and she had no sword to slay it.

  But she suddenly remembered, neither did David when he went up against the giant and slew him. How often had she heard that story? As a child she always sat up and paid attention when the preacher spoke of David and Goliath. Perhaps Mark’s past and the deep grief of his mother’s death, perhaps all that was their Goliath, a giant they must face together.

  Then slowly the storm ceased, leaving Mark in a fetal position, his hands tucked between his knees. He shuddered, relaxed, then slowly rose to his feet. He stood silently with his back toward Sadie, looking at the still form of his mother.

  Suddenly he turned on his heel. “Call Tom. I’m going out,” he said brusquely, refusing to meet her eyes.

  “But…” Sadie began to protest, then closed her mouth, wincing as Mark slammed the door on his way out.

  Feeling more alone than she ever had, she walked over to the bed and gently pulled the sheet up over Meely’s still body.

  Mark’s mother. May God rest her soul.

  Sadie had loved her sincerely. She had.

  The following days were a blur of activity. Tom knew what to do and helped with the funeral arrangements. Samuel and Levi worked the computer, desperately trying to find Mark’s missing siblings, coming up with nothing. Malinda cooked up a storm, delivering great casserole d
ishes of southern cooking, huge coconut cakes with slivers of pecans all over the top.

  Neighboring farm wives came. These well-meaning women dressed in clean cotton frocks brought Pyrex dishes of homemade scalloped potatoes, lasagna, burritos, fried chicken, and green-bean casserole. The quantity of food was endless.

  The kindness of ordinary people is a wondrous thing, Sadie thought. She wished Meely could see how these simple country folk turned out in droves to deliver their condolences in the form of warm food.

  Tom’s great laugh rang out while he and Mark sampled all the food. He spent a great deal of time with Mark, beginning that first evening after Meely’s death. They spent hours outside under the trees, Mark sitting in the hammock, Tom on a rusted bench.

  Sadie wondered if Mark would ever tell her what they talked about.

  The viewing at the local funeral home was pitifully small. There was no long line of friends and acquaintances waiting to sign their names at the entrance. There were only a few people from the Hospice service, the man who brought salt for the water softener, and the fuel-truck driver. Mark was the only family.

  Meely was still lovely, laid in a bed of white satin. Great banks of flowers surrounded the coffin, as she had wanted.

  A soft, early, summer rain fell on the heads of the small group of mourners at the burial. A few well-wishers from Tom’s congregation shook their heads at the sadness of it all. Their faces were a haven of kindness for Mark and Sadie now.

  Tom spoke a eulogy of love. He read the Twenty-Third Psalm, called Meely “sister,” and led the group in a hopeful hymn. Mark and Sadie bowed their heads and cried tears of cleansing. The past was partially settled, or at least as much as it could be in a matter of a few days.

  They went back to the house, where Malinda served up a banquet of delicious food, urging everyone to take heaping servings of everything.

  “Y’all tried this here chicken? Y’ need more Coke?”

  Mark ate hungrily. He smiled at Sadie, who sat across from him at the dining room table.

  “You look amazing in your black dress,” he whispered, sending her pulse racing.

  They finally made arrangements to return home. They said many tearful farewells to Tom and his family, who promised to visit. Then they climbed into the Amtrak train, that speeding wonder that would deliver Sadie once again to her family. Her heart pumped with excitement.

  Going home!

  Mark watched Sadie’s face before commenting on it.

  “Your eyes are just shining, Sadie.”

  “Yes, Mark, I am so happy to return home. It seems like a long time since I’ve seen everyone.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re lucky.”

  That was all he said before turning his face away.

  Oh, boy, she thought. Here we go again.

  Anger bubbled out of a seething cauldron of hurt. A part of her wanted to sit up and actually hit him, yelling, “Bupp! Grosse Bupp!”

  Would he always hold up that daunting shield of his past? Would he always make excuses and ask for pity? Or when he was jealous, would he take the role of a martyr?

  Then Sadie sighed and fluctuated between self-blame and anger.

  I know I’m lucky. I have a wonderful family. Maybe I shouldn’t show how happy I am. It’s my fault.

  The steady rhythm of the train put her to sleep. It must have been a deep sleep, because she didn’t remember letting her head fall on Mark’s chest. She awoke completely confused, with Mark’s arm around her securely.

  He was in a jovial mood. He teased her and bantered incessantly about their wedding. He acted as if he had never been unkind, never left her out of his thoughts.

  Complicated person, for sure, was her only rational thought.

  Arriving home was everything Sadie knew it would be. There were hugs and tears of welcome. Reuben hovered self-consciously in the background, wearing a brand-new shirt for the occasion. Sadie squealed and ran after him, giving him a very warm hug. He shrugged it off, but his wide grin gave away his true feelings.

  Anna was alarmingly thin, just as Sadie suspected she would be. Her thin face made her eyes look abnormally large. All the loose fabric of her pretty teal-colored dress was tucked into her apron.

  Sadie had to work hard to hide her fear, mentally shelving the talk she would have to have with Mam and Dat later.

  It was Saturday, so no one had to go to work. Everyone piled into the kitchen and chatted over each other. There was so much to say.

  Mam had prepared a wonderful brunch. There was a breakfast pizza, made with a homemade crust, fried potatoes, sausage, eggs, tomatoes, and cheese. There were golden biscuits and sausage gravy, fresh fruit, orange juice, homemade yogurt, and granola. The coffeepot was never empty for long, but no one had room for any of the doughnuts available in great variety.

  Not even Reuben’s eyes were dry when Sadie spoke of Meely’s death. Dat marveled over the whole thing and said he never heard anything like it. What would the ministers say about something like that?

  What about the Bible story of the woman at the well? Mam asked. Wasn’t that woman a sinner? Five husbands she had, and the man she was with that day was not her husband. Yet she recognized Jesus when those self-righteous scribes and Pharisees had no clue.

  “Jesus offered much forgiveness and great love,” she concluded. Her nostrils flared a bit. She got up to refill her coffee. It wasn’t really necessary, but she was worked up by Dat questioning whether Meely was saved.

  Mark listened closely. He had never heard Sadie’s mam talk like that.

  Dat quickly agreed, patting his wife’s shoulder with a soft touch of contrition. Mam lifted her face to his, a soft smile spreading across her features. Dat returned it with one of his own.

  That beautiful exchange was what came after 30 years of marriage, Sadie thought. Their own Goliath definitely had dwindled in size in the face of this long-practiced trust between them.

  What a foundation! Surely it was worth more than gold. Surely she and Mark could make it, too.

  After the long, drawn-out brunch, Mark followed Dat outside. Sadie knew he would tell Dat about their engagement. She decided to wait to tell Mam, anticipating the surprised expressions of her sisters and Reuben.

  Her room was a welcoming haven. She had forgotten the tasteful simplicity of it, the calming white curtains and sand-colored comforter, the off-white walls, the candles and greenery blending so perfectly. She loved her room all over again.

  She went to the bathroom to straighten her covering and check on the condition of her hair. She paused to sniff the familiar scent of Dove soap in the holder and to take in the border of seashells on the wall.

  She raised her eyebrows when she saw the black plastic bottle of men’s body wash. Was it Reuben’s? Oh, my goodness.

  Before long, Reuben would be going with the youth. Rumspringa. That was the time of “running around,” when youth first experience the world and are forced to make some of their own choices. Some would be good, others bad. And yet, he would still be within the Amish arc of friends and under the scrutiny of a close community where things of a disobedient nature traveled through the grapevine at the speed of lightning. He would still have to pay the consequences once his poor behavior reached Dat’s ears.

  Anna was a far greater concern. Dat’s frightened smile told her everything.

  Sadie pushed the problems aside. She would wait to talk to Dat after Mark announced their happy news.

  Mam’s face actually turned a different shade and her eyes darkened, when Mark said they wanted to get married in September. She mentally calculated the months.

  “June, July, August,” she breathed shakily.

  “Congratulations!” all her sisters yelled, in their “Happy Birthday” voices.

  “Who’s going to huck nâva?

  “I will.”

  “I want to!”

  “I’m the oldest!”

  Reuben said nothing at all but just kept eating doughnuts and washing them d
own with milk. Sadie watched him, then noticed him blinking his eyes and twitching the corners of his mouth into a downward tilt. It was the way he looked when he was not going to cry, no matter what.

  For a moment, it erased Sadie’s joy as clearly as a wet rag erased words on the schoolhouse blackboard.

  Would that special bond with Reuben disappear when she married?

  “I want Reuben to huck nâva,” she said clearly.

  He looked up, mid-chew, a slow smile starting in his eyes.

  Nâva hucking was a high honor. He was young, but easily tall enough to escort one of Mark’s family, whomever he chose, to the bridal table. He would even hold her hand.

  “You want to?” Sadie asked.

  “Of course,” Reuben answered, his chin tucked in to make his voice sound much more masculine then it actually was.

  They decided on Leah, Sadie’s next oldest sister, to be the second attendant, along with Kevin, her steady boyfriend.

  Mam was in a state of happy panic; it was honestly the only way to describe her. Dat was gruff and businesslike, but he snapped his suspenders too often and drank way too much coffee.

  Mark offered to pay for the wedding, telling them about the inheritance from his mother.

  There was so much to say, so much to plan, that they quickly grew tired. Dat flopped on the recliner and reached for the Botschaft. Mam frantically washed dishes, no doubt mentally counting all the relations on both sides of the family and calculating how much food it would take to feed them all two meals.

  Sadie stole away, then, to greet Paris. She entered the barn eagerly, slipping into Paris’ stall, and flinging her arms around the horse’s neck, noticing the condition of her honey-colored coat, the well-rounded stomach, the muscles well developed in her deep chest.

  “Oh, Paris, I missed you so much! How I wish I could take you for a ride. But I can’t yet. Dat said I can’t even leave you out in the pasture because of those evil men. Well, they’re not going to get you.”