The Tinderbox

by Beverly Lewis

  Rhoda tried to be calm, because Earnest’s actions startled her. “Why must the door be closed?” she asked quietly.

  Returning to the table, Earnest patted the chair on his right, where she always sat for meals. “Honestly, Rhoda, I’m not sure how to say this . . . but I must.”

  “Sounds awful serious,” she murmured, taking her seat.

  Earnest reached over for her hand. “It is.” His brown eyes, usually bright, looked murky, and his countenance was resigned. “And no matter what you may think of me afterward, please know that I sincerely love you . . . with every beat of my heart.”

  A sigh escaped as she braced herself.

  Earnest released her hand. “Earlier you asked about the whereabouts of the tinderbox,” he said, adding that Sylvia had admitted to looking inside several days ago. “Unthinking, I had left it unlocked.” Sighing, he went on. “But perhaps I wanted someone to find me out.” Crinkles she had never noticed before appeared at the corners of his eyes.

  “Aren’t there just matches and whatnot inside?” she asked, baffled.

  “Nee,” he said. “I hid away certain items from my past as an Englischer. That’s part of what I want to share with you.”

  “And Sylvia saw those items?”

  He nodded. “Among other things, there’s a gold pocket watch with an inscription.” He glanced at the ceiling for a moment. “But while Sylvia saw that, she knows nothing of what I’m about to tell you.” He drew a labored breath, his face almost ashen. “Ach, Rhoda, I’ve kept this a secret far too long.”

  She shivered. They’d never kept secrets from each other or anyone. Oh, but the pain registered on her husband’s dear face made her listen with an open heart.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you,” he said.

  “Go on, dear.”

  Nodding, Earnest said at last, “It’s best that I start at the beginning, leaving no stone unturned. . . .”

  CHAPTER

  Thirteen

  In the autumn of his sophomore year of college, Earnest met an attractive young woman, well dressed and witty. From their first meeting, Rosalind Ellison engaged him as if she had known him for a long time. Though she had grown up in South Carolina in Hilton Head’s Sea Pines community, Rosalind wasn’t at all smug about it. She just stated it, and with an adorable southern accent, too.

  Earnest wasn’t about to ask if this had been her first choice for college, or her parents’ choice. Like mine, he thought. His father had graduated from Georgia Tech with a degree in mechanical engineering, and Earnest’s parents were pleased he was following in his father’s footsteps.

  Rosalind looked at Earnest with a sparkling smile and tilted her pretty head, her shoulder-length blond hair brushing against her chin. “Why did you pick this school?” she asked, sitting next to him.

  “That,” he said, “is debatable.”

  “Ah . . . so you didn’t have much say, either?” She laughed softly.

  “Don’t misunderstand; I’m glad to be here. . . . A scholarship always helps,” Earnest told her, lowering his voice at the latter.

  “I’ve always liked a humble guy.” She got up to walk, and Earnest fell in step with her.

  That first encounter made him want to see Rosalind again—her breezy, casual style fascinated him. And after only a few dates, Earnest realized he was falling for her.

  During Thanksgiving break, he took her home to meet his parents, who seemed surprised at how quickly they had become serious. Earnest’s mom admitted she liked Rosalind’s southern charm, but one evening after Rosalind had gone to the guest room, she also pointed out to Earnest that the young woman seemed very materialistic. “That worries me.”

  Later, Earnest’s father privately encouraged him to take his time getting to know Rosalind. “And be sure to talk to God about your relationship,” he added, his expression serious.

  Earnest merely listened, preferring to make his own path in life. Talking to God was the last thing he wanted to do. What possible reason was there to second-guess a relationship with a fun-loving young woman like Rosalind Ellison?

  “Bear in mind that you’re both very young,” his father also stated. He hadn’t said “and naïve,” but it was certainly implied.

  One week before Christmas, Earnest and Rosalind decided to elope. She surprised him with a gold pocket watch with an inscription on the back: To Earnest, with all my love, Rosalind.

  Earnest’s gift to her was a heart necklace with tiny diamond chips. Like Rosalind, he hadn’t waited until Christmas to present it, anxious to solidify his devotion and love. Despite the fact that the pair had skipped over a formal engagement, moving straight into marriage, Rosalind seemed deliriously happy and wore her heart necklace every day . . . just as Earnest carried his pocket watch to classes and to his part-time job. Though the schedule could be challenging, his new goal in life was to give his bride a lifestyle comparable to what she was accustomed to.

  Rhoda trembled as she sat at the kitchen table, her eyes fixed on Earnest’s face—this man she so loved. The unexpected revelation was nearly impossible to comprehend and equally hard to stomach. “You were married before we met?” she asked quietly.

  Earnest reached across the table for her hand, but she pulled away. “I was wrong not to tell you—or the People.”

  “Well, what happened to her?” Rhoda asked, trying to understand why Earnest hadn’t told her till now. “Did she . . . did she die?”

  “There’s more to tell.” His voice grew soft. “But . . . are you really sure you want to hear it?” He paused and looked somber. “This must be terribly hard on you.”

  Determined, she nodded. “I have to know.”

  Earnest and Rosalind’s first winter together brought sorrow when Earnest’s father succumbed to a massive stroke. The shocking loss left Earnest feeling strangely unmoored; it was inconceivable that the man who’d always sought to direct and guide him was no longer there. Rosalind did her best to raise his spirits, but Earnest was in no mood for consolation.

  Spring break of that year, she pleaded with him to take her home to visit her parents.

  “Sure, we can do that,” Earnest agreed, thinking how down he had been since his father’s death. “A trip to see your parents and have some fun might be good for both of us. But not for too long. I have some coursework to finish up over break, unfortunately.”

  She hesitated. “Maybe it would be better if I just go alone.”

  It was as if a dart had pierced his heart.

  “At least for a while,” she added hastily, reaching to gently touch his cheek. “That will give you time to study. You don’t mind, do you, Earnest? It’s just what I need right now.”

  Her voice sounded tired, and Earnest pulled her near. “You know how much I love to be with you,” he said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  She breathed in deeply, letting it out with a long sigh. “All right, I guess . . . this time we’ll go together.”

  Relieved, he said, “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  The drive to Hilton Head was spectacular—the salt-marsh landscape and lush, tall trees, including palm trees, the Harbour Town Lighthouse, the pristine golf courses, and the mansion-like homes. Everything seemed exceptionally beautiful, if not perfect, when Rosalind was by his side. Earnest truly did enjoy being with her, in spite of her growing tendency to indulge in shopping sprees, especially for clothes. And shoes, too—“a pair for every outfit,” she liked to joke.

  “You’re going to outgrow our closet,” he teased in reply.

  “No question about that, darlin’,” she agreed, laughing.

  The day after their arrival, Rosalind left to go shopping, leaving Earnest at the beach house with her parents. Earnest took the opportunity to offer a reimbursement check of sorts to his father-in-law for many of Rosalind’s expenditures during the past months.

  “Oh, we don’t mind taking care of our little girl,” her father said dismissively.

  Our li
ttle girl . . .

  Earnest bristled.

  “Rosalind is always welcome to use my credit cards.”

  Earnest bit his lip, sitting there in the man’s luxurious cherrywood-paneled home office. Does he realize he’s undermining me?

  As it turned out, Rosalind’s shopping expedition spilled into the evening, and after an awkward dinner with his in-laws, Earnest took himself off to the beach for a walk and a chance to clear his head. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, it seemed that Rosalind’s parents were actively working against his young marriage.

  Emotionally weary, he headed back to the house and to bed, awakening hours later, when Rosalind tiptoed into the guest suite. She must have realized he was awake as she slipped to his side of the bed, because she said she’d lost track of time while out with a few friends. As was her way, she kissed him and apologized, saying she hadn’t meant to abandon him.

  Ready to forgive, he opened his arms to her.

  As they packed to return to Georgia, Rosalind asked if she could stay behind for a few more days. “Would you mind terribly, hon?”

  Earnest didn’t let on how taken aback he was.

  “Just for a little while?” she pleaded.

  Realizing that it might make sense for a short time, Earnest agreed.

  What Rosalind wants, Rosalind gets, he thought wryly.

  The requested few days turned into a week, and then another. At the end of their daily phone conversations, Rosalind was often in tears, saying things like, “I don’t feel up to classes right now, and I miss living here on the beach,” before tossing in a laugh. Earnest wasn’t sure what was going on. All he knew was that he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t ready yet to come home to him.

  Finally, when March had turned to April and it appeared that Rosalind wanted to stay even longer, Earnest put his foot down. “You’ve been gone long enough.”

  For a moment, Rosalind was silent; then she dropped a bombshell. “You know, Earnest, I’m leaning toward just staying here.”

  Something inside of him had suspected this, but he hadn’t wanted to give it credence. “Why, Rosalind?” he asked. “We’re married. We belong together.”

  “I know . . . but these things happen to the best of couples,” she replied.

  What things? he wondered, afraid his marriage was already crumbling.

  Filled with sorrow, Earnest said good-bye and hung up the phone.

  Rhoda sat there feeling numb. It was hard to even glance at her husband when her heart was surely breaking.

  The kitchen was no longer her happy domain, where she’d lovingly cooked and baked and brought her family together three times each day. The room was a prison now, trapping her at this beloved table, across from this man whose eyes and countenance were Earnest’s, but who did not, at this moment, resemble her adoring, joyful husband. She wanted to rush outside and stop up her ears, because everything in her was telling her she must.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Earnest asked, touching her elbow.

  She winced. A myriad of feelings flowed through her as she sat there, studying him—disbelief, sadness, and anger. Most of all, shock that Earnest had never confided in her about this.

  “I should have come clean to you long before now,” Earnest said, “but I was so broken up when Rosalind divorced me. . . . I guess I wanted to pretend our short marriage never happened.” He shook his head and grimaced. “There were years when I almost convinced myself that it hadn’t. . . .”

  She listened, struggling to understand.

  “Since my early teens, I’ve admired the kind of life my Plain grandparents lived. And I found it here in Hickory Hollow with you, Rhoda darling.” He pulled his blue paisley handkerchief out and wiped his eyes.

  “We really need to keep this quiet,” Rhoda said suddenly. “Just between us.”

  Earnest looked momentarily stunned but began to nod his head. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s an awful secret, Earnest—one that would shake up the whole community, not to mention our children. . . . Nee, you must not tell a soul.” Slowly, she made herself rise from the chair. “Excuse me . . . I have to go upstairs to rest.”

  Earnest stood when she did, eyes pleading, but she turned away.

  “Please give me some space right now.”

  “I dreaded the thought of telling you, Rhoda. I didn’t want to hurt you like this,” he said, following her through the next room. “And now I have.”

  She turned to face him, her lower lip quivering. “Under God, are we even married?”

  A sad expression rolled over his face. “Rosalind divorced me early that summer to marry another man,” he said, explaining that he believed he was permitted to remarry according to Matthew chapter nineteen. “But I never intended to marry again, not after what I went through. I couldn’t bear the thought. And then I was falling in love with you, believing with all my heart that you would be true to your marriage vow. It was wrong, but by then, I’d already shoved my past life and marriage out of my mind. . . .”

  Rhoda had no strength left and forced herself to trudge toward the stairs. Reaching for the bannister, she felt as if she’d aged twenty years in a single morning.

  CHAPTER

  Fourteen

  Earnest waited until Rhoda had made her way up to their room before he plodded to the spare room near the front of the house. There, he sat on the bed, sick at heart, knowing he should have insisted on telling Rhoda the truth when they were getting to know each other, back when he’d offered to discuss his past with her. But Rhoda had claimed that knowing any of that wouldn’t have changed how she felt.

  She never imagined I was divorced, though!

  Too distraught to pray, Earnest recalled one of the many verses Papa Zimmerman had helped him memorize years ago. He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

  “For me, that rock was Amish life,” Earnest murmured. Coming to Hickory Hollow at Mahlon’s invitation gave me the fresh start I desperately needed—meeting and falling in love with Rhoda was the best part, he thought, concerned for his wife. Yet how can we recover from this?

  He closed his eyes and slipped his suspenders off his shoulders, letting his thoughts drift back to his first encounter with Rhoda Riehl.

  ———

  In the May that completed Earnest’s sophomore year, he moved to Ephrata, Pennsylvania, for a summer internship. Relocating also proved a way to keep his sanity as his marriage crumbled around him—and after the death of his father that past winter. Earnest spent his weekends in Amish country. On his first trip to Lancaster, he stopped in at the historic Central Market at Penn Square for a snack and discovered handmade soft pretzels, sauerkraut, and delicious spaetzle. There was also glasswork, pottery, and hand-painted wood signs. Most impressive of all, however, had been a display of hand-crafted clocks.

  The vibrant marketplace had reminded Earnest of his Plain grandparents and their values of humility, community, and a more traditional way of life. Being around the Amish and Mennonite vendors stirred up a yearning to start a new chapter in his own life. One Amishman in particular, Mahlon Zook, extended the hand of friendship, and Earnest quickly came to appreciate how similar in personality he was to Papa Zimmerman.

  Days after that first memorable visit, tragedy struck Earnest yet again as word reached him of his mother’s sudden death—struck down by a heart attack mere months after his father’s stroke. Her heart couldn’t take the loss, he thought sadly. He’d never felt so alone as at her funeral, standing beside her casket without anyone to comfort him. It was as if his very world had ceased to exist.

  Still numb and hurting, Earnest returned to Pennsylvania to complete his internship. By then Rosalind had expressed her intent to remarry as soon as their divorce was final, this time to a young man she’d known since her childhood on Hilton Head. Earnest could hardly process this thought. Now more than ever, there seemed little reason to rush back to
Georgia.

  In midsummer, Mahlon introduced him to an elderly clockmaker, Isaac Smucker, who was looking to sell his lifelong business in Hickory Hollow. In part because of his friendship with Mahlon, but also due to Earnest’s own Plain family heritage, Isaac took a liking to him.

  “Must I be Amish to apprentice for Isaac?” Earnest asked Mahlon one evening while they sat on Mahlon’s back porch drinking iced meadow tea.

  “If you’re an honest man, that’ll do for Ol’ Isaac.”

  Meanwhile, Mahlon and his wife, Mamie, continued to encourage Earnest with their kindness and moral support. And while Earnest never admitted what he was running from, they seemed to sense that he was a broken man in need of a surrogate family. When his internship in Ephrata came to an end, Earnest was only too relieved to accept the invitation to rent their spare bedroom, opting not to return to college but to work instead for Isaac Smucker, the esteemed Amish clockmaker.

  Long talks with Mahlon spurred Earnest to consider a radical idea. What if he could embrace the Plain life for himself? Would escaping into this cloistered world bury his painful past—assuming, that is, that he could put his modern customs behind him? After all, that was his biggest worry: Could he do it?

  Earnest asked what it would mean to join the Amish church—what things he would have to give up, and what he would have to accomplish during his Proving time. Once he fully understood the ministers’ expectations, Earnest went with Mahlon to meet with Bishop John Beiler, still uncertain he’d ever make it as a full-fledged Amishman.

  One afternoon while driving on Cattail Road, he stopped at a farm to purchase some homemade bottled Amish root beer. A young woman with golden hair and the kindest eyes he’d ever seen was tending the stand, and as the two made conversation, he felt comfortable enough to tell her of his interest in becoming Amish.

  She took one look at his bright red vehicle and his modern attire, and joked, “So far, ya ain’t doin’ so gut, jah?”