Amish Love Be Kind 3-Book Boxed Set

by Rachel Stoltzfus

  “I find it much easier to be honest and direct with Hannah if I’m having a bad day.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I try to walk it off or I smack a pillow out in the barn. If that doesn’t work, I write a note and hold it up to the window for Hannah to read. I tell her my efforts aren’t working and she should get herself and the baby to her parents’ house.”

  “Gut. When was the last time you hit her?”

  Abram could barely remember. “Months ago. I remember having a bad day in town and coming home. She didn’t want to stay here, but I didn’t realize how far gone I was. I thought she was arguing with me and I lit into her. By the time I was done, she had cuts and bruises all over her face.”

  “That’s when you ended up in jail, ya?”

  “Ya. Ever since then...we are very careful to stick to the skills we’ve both learned.”

  “Gut. And your monster?”

  “You heard Zeb died, right? I still struggle with hearing his voice telling me to hit her. But I’ve learned that if I ridicule that voice, it goes away faster. But I do that in the barn, just in case.”

  “Didn’t you go to see him?”

  “Nee, not so much see him. I went to speak up in the meeting where banning was discussed and decided on. That night, at Bishop Stone’s house, we were outside, drinking cold drinks and just trying to make each other feel better. Zeb drove up and started to hit me. Both bishops and Eli grabbed him. While all that was happening, the bishop’s wife was calling the sheriff, whose deputies came out and arrested Zeb.”

  Wayne remembered the outcome of that. “And he hung himself.”

  “He hung himself, ya. At the funeral, I learned...nee, I confirmed for myself that he didn’t feel gut about working with Auntie Emily. So he forced her to give all the decision-making to him, even for household questions. And now? She is struggling to learn everything about their finances so she won’t lose their home. She’s learning how to be a breadwinner.”

  “I hope she has help.” Wayne grimaced, remembering how he had very nearly taken that away from Lizzie.

  “Ya. A wunderbaar neighbor, who took her in the last time Zeb abused her.”

  “Are you still in therapy?”

  “Ya. I’m eager to be done.”

  “Nee, Abram. Don’t rush that. You never know when the monster will attack you or your mind. Stay with Joshua for as long as he feels you should receive counseling.”

  Abram was now well clued in to how insidious domestic violence was. “Ya.” He told Wayne what had happened at the hardware store. “That guy was just persistent! He was going to make me lose my temper so he could get the satisfaction of not being the only abuser who’d ended up in jail.”

  “I wonder if I’ve seen him. Tall and sort of chunky? Dark-brown hair and a mustache? Rude?”

  “It could be.”

  “The next time you go to town for supplies, let me know. If I’m going to town, I’ll go with you or meet you.”

  Abram liked the idea, but had a question. “Does he know that you abused Lizzie and Leora?”

  “Oh, ya. But he doesn’t know that I spent several months receiving inpatient mental health treatment. I’m thinking that if he finds that piece of information out and we are together, buying supplies, he’s much more likely to leave you alone.”

  Abram like the idea, but wanted to be cautious. “That sounds gut. But I want to think about it for a day or so.”

  “Do so. We just need to make sure that people like that aren’t not able to harass us to the point that we blow up.”

  “Wayne, how long has it been since your last blowup?” Abram was genuinely curious.

  Wayne sat back and thought. “Well...nearly two years since I lost my temper and went after Lizzie or Leora. You know when I had my breakdown and tried to kill Lizzie. You were there. Since I was in the middle of a situation that triggered me? I’d have to say...maybe seven or eight months.”

  “What happened?”

  “To trigger me? I was shopping with Lizzie and I heard a daed yelling at his son. Lizzie saw it immediately and got me out of there. We called my therapist and he was able to help me get out of that flashback.”

  “Did you lose your temper then or shortly after?” Abram wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  “Then. Linda and Eli were close by and they helped Lizzie out.”

  “Do you still take your medications?”

  “Ya. I will for some time to come. Are you taking something?”

  “An anti-anxiety medication. It really helps. But Joshua doesn’t want me to be on it for a long time. As soon as I’m able to deal with my memories of my uncle and his abuse of my aunt and cousins, he wants to wean me off.”

  “That’s gut. I may be on my medications long-term. I’m not sure. It may be life long.” Wayne was matter-of-fact about that. He knew that his PTSD was severe and would always be a problem for him, no matter how long it had been since his hospitalization.

  Finally, Abram decided it could be a gut thing for him to go to the store with Wayne when he needed new supplies. Thus, a few weeks after encountering the rude Englisch man, he and Wayne rode into town in Abram’s wagon. After buying their supplies, they were on their way out of the store when the man spotted Abram.

  “Hey! You! I don’t see your rescuers anywhere! Now, answer my question. Have you whacked at your wife lately?”

  Abram looked at Wayne, who gave him a slight smile.

  Wayne gestured to him. “I’m going to give him the show and scare of a lifetime. Let me handle him.”

  Abram nodded.

  “Well? Y’haven’t answered! That’s rude!”

  Wayne began to tremble. Abram, standing next to him, hadn’t expected this. Therefore, his reaction was honest. “Wayne! Are you okay?” He looped his arm around Wayne’s shoulders. “Wayne?”

  Wayne, seeming to be in the grip of a psychotic episode, nudged his elbow into Abram’s side.

  Abram saw that Wayne was putting on an act. Yet, he continued to holler Wayne’s name out.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with him? Is he mentally...you know...off?”

  Abram ignored the pesky man and kept his gaze firmly on Wayne’s face.

  Wayne dragged a deep breath into his chest. The next thing Abram knew, a deep groan came out of Wayne’s throat.

  “Uggghhhhhh! The horror! The...memories! Blood! AGHHH! Ach! Nee, Daed, no, leave her alone!” Wayne’s voice rose to a frightening howl. “Lizzie! You betrayed meeee! You lied to me!” Seemingly of his own volition, Wayne’s hands rose and moved toward the rude Englisch man’s neck.

  The man, seeing this, gasped. “No! Just...leave me alone!”

  Wayne suddenly dropped all pretense of being in the midst of a flashback. Approaching the man, he spoke in a normal tone of voice. “You ever harass my friend again, and you’ll be the one in the middle of a flashback.”

  Abram was uncomfortably aware that several bystanders were now gathered around them. “Uh, Wayne—”

  “I know. Everyone, this guy over here has been harassing my friend, trying to make him lose his temper and wind up behind bars. I decided it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

  The Englisch man realized he’d been had. But, looking at Wayne’s craggy face, he also realized he didn’t want to take his chances again. “Fine. Fine! I’ll leave you two nutcases alone!”

  Wayne had one final parting shot. “You’re just as much of a nutcase as we are, especially if you try to provoke him or me into losing our tempers. We’re Amish. We don’t believe in violence, so that means we have to be imaginative when it comes to people like you. I hear of you bothering him again, I’ll be contacting the sheriff. You understand?”

  “Yeh, yeh.” Flapping his hand at the two friends, he scurried off, aware that he was now the focus of several scowls.

  Deacon King hurried up as the wannabe provocateur ran off. “Wayne Lapp, what just happened? Do you need to go back into the center?”


  “Nee, Deacon King. It seems that Abram’s harasser was at it again today. He wanted to make him blow up and Abram was very successful in managing his temper. Still, that Englischer wouldn’t leave him alone, so I faked a flashback. When I walked toward that man with my hands held out, he realized he didn’t want to fool with us. I told him that if he ever tried to hassle Abram again, I would call the sheriff myself. He left.”

  Wayne turned from the deacon to his friend. “Abram, you need to let us know when you’re coming here or to other stores where that man goes. I hate to say it, but I don’t think he’s going to give up on making you blow your temper.”

  “Oh, Wayne. You gave me the scare of a lifetime. But I see just why you did it. Hopefully, that man takes you seriously and leaves Abram alone,” Deacon King said. “And Abram? I agree with Wayne. Let us know when you need to buy supplies and we’ll come into town with you.”

  As grateful as Abram was, he was uncomfortably aware that he would be inconveniencing several friends. “Denki, but I don’t want to put anyone out.”

  “Pssh! You won’t be doing that. We can move things around in our schedules. And, just maybe, we’ll also need to buy supplies or hardware. Even lumber. I mean it, Abram. Call us or come see us. Someone can come to town with you.”

  Sighing, Abram nodded. “Okay, denki, I will.” At home that night, he was calm, but quieter than normal.

  “Abram? Is everything okay? You’re really quiet tonight.” Hannah poured a fresh cup of coffee for Abram, not sure if she should feel apprehension.

  “Ya, I’m just fine. Something happened in town.” Abram described his and Wayne’s encounter with the Englischer. “So now, Deacon King and Wayne have told me to call them when I need to go into town. I don’t want to inconvenience them.”

  “If I could, maybe I can share a different perspective.” Hannah sat down near Abram, adding more vegetables to her plate. When Abram nodded, she continued speaking. “You know a few days before you run out of iron or supplies that you’ll need to buy more, ya? Since that’s the case, call or visit them before the day you decide to go to the store. Have a couple days ready to suggest. That way, someone can go with you. Who knows? Maybe they need to buy supplies for themselves, too.”

  Sipping his coffee, Abram considered Hannah’s suggestion. He liked it. Smiling, he took her hand and shook it gently on the table. “That works, ya. But what if I have an emergency and run out of something sooner than I anticipated?”

  “Get your daed or mine.”

  Chapter 9

  “Gut idea!” Abram felt much better.

  “Abram, you’re so considerate that you often put your own needs last. In this kind of situation, where holding onto your temper really means that you can stay a member of our community, maybe you should put yourself first.”

  Abram hadn’t thought of that. Putting his fork down, he thought about that and the implications of his self-sacrifice. “I never thought of it that way. Maybe I started doing that after Zeb revealed his true self to me that summer.”

  Hannah thought back. She and Abram had known one another from their childhood on. “I remember that, when you came back, you were quiet and more...I don’t know. Troubled? And I did notice that you were reluctant to ask for help or favors after that summer. Now that I know why that started, I wish I had asked you about it.”

  It was Abram’s turn to think back. Running his hand down his beard, he shook his head. “I doubt I would have had the level of insight then that I’ve gained now. I wouldn’t have known that’s why I was so reluctant to request help.”

  Bringing the baby to the table, Hannah sat back down and sighed. Allowing Eleanor to capture her pinky, she smiled sadly at Abram. “I’ve heard the Englisch say, ‘shoulda, woulda, coulda.’ That seems to fit here. If we had known what traumatic events you witnessed and experienced, we could have gotten you help. Then, you wouldn’t have felt the need to strike me.”

  “Well, that’s all in the past. I’m thankful that our parents made me get the help I needed so badly. I do know that I still have some ways to go in dealing with all of that. I’m still not completely... I hate to say it, but ‘cured’ of the risk of losing my temper at you.”

  “You are doing much better, though.”

  TWO DAYS LATER, IT was the day before Meeting Sunday. Abram and Hannah were working in the yard, getting ready for fall. The baby was lying on a large blanket, cooing and playing with her hands and feet. Abram heard a truck stop on the other side of their fence. Looking up, he sighed. “Hannah, get Eleanor. Right now. Go inside. I’m calling the sheriff.”

  Hannah saw what was happening. Wordlessly, she did exactly as Abram told her. Watching from behind the window of their living room, she saw Abram at the phone house, making the call. Then, she saw him running toward the porch. Unlocking the door, she opened it for Abram. “Is he going to stop? Or just insult you?”

  “Just scream insults. The dispatch person said a deputy should be here soon.” Ten minutes later, two vehicles pulled up from opposite directions. They blocked off the rude Englischman’s truck, making it impossible for him to leave. Abram opened the door indicating that Hannah needed to come out as well.

  “Sir, you called?” The deputy was looking at Abram in confusion.

  “Ya. I know that normally we don’t call your office. But was told by our bishop that if he harassed me again, I was to do so.” Abram pointed at the now-quiet man, who was looking down, probably trying to think of a way out of the situation he’d created.

  “Sam, I’ll take over. Mr. Beiler, what were you and your wife doing when he drove up?” The senior deputy waited to jot down notes.

  “Preparing our yard for the winter months. He’s been told to leave me alone, by our deacon. But he persists in trying to make me lose my temper. I have to be honest. I developed a problem with using my fists on my wife. I was arrested some months back. I’m in therapy now and working with the Peer Council our community has available for families with these issues. I’m really working hard to use the skills that I’ve learned and what he is doing is just plain mupsich and cruel. After you leave, we’re going to go to our bishop’s house to report what he did today.”

  The senior deputy, whose nametag read “Scott,” responded. “I’m not surprised about what he’s doing. He has his own history of domestic violence, and he chooses to try and make himself feel better by making others with the same problem lose their tempers...preferably at their wives or husbands.” Deputy Scott turned to the man in the truck. “In fact, Don, we told you that if you did this one more time, you were going to violate probation and go to jail—no, prison—to serve out the rest of your sentence. You remember that?”

  “Awww, I was just trying to have a little fun with him! Get him to toughen up, y’know?” Don had begun to perspire in the now-warm morning. “Please, don’t arrest me. You know what happened to me the last time.”

  Deputy Scott shrugged. “You should have thought of that before coming out here.” Approaching Don, he pulled his handcuffs from the back of his belt. Grasping Don’s wrist, the deputy snapped the cuffs on and pulled his other wrist behind his back and repeated the action. “In the car. We’ll call your wife to pick up your truck.” He then asked Abram, “If it’s okay for it to stay here for now?”

  “It’s fine by me. But it’s his problem if anyone hits it. Thank you for helping.”

  “You’re welcome. How’s your temper?”

  Abram did a self-check of his emotions. “I’m not mad, deputy, just frustrated. And tired of this nonsense.”

  “So, you’re not going to take anything out on your wife or kid?”

  “Nee, not at all! They aren’t to blame here. I’m going to report this to the bishop. We may be in contact with you, either today or Monday.”

  “That’s fine. I work until three this afternoon, so if you can get to the department before then, I can talk to you.”

  “Denki. That’s helpful.” Abram waved at both deputies as t
hey got into their cruisers. On the way to the bishop’s, he sighed. “He was ‘trying to have fun’ with me? Funny. It didn’t feel like fun to me.”

  “And I don’t think you need to toughen up, either. You’re plenty tough as it is.”

  Abram smiled at Hannah’s description. “Ya, with a tender center for you and my baby girl. Denki for listening. I wasn’t sure what he would be capable of.”

  “Me, either. I didn’t get a gut feeling from him as he was trying to provoke you. He felt...creepy.”

  IN THE BISHOP’S LIVING room, Abram reported everything that had happened.

  “Well, he is rather stupid, isn’t he? If you have time after dinner, I’ll pick you up and we can go talk to Deputy Scott and the sheriff. Hannah, do you want to go as well?”

  “Nee, thank you. Eleanor will be napping. I’ll stay at home and take care of the food for tomorrow’s lunch. If you need, I can write down what I saw and felt.”

  “That would be helpful, ya. What did you feel?”

  “There’s something off...creepy...about him.” Hannah shivered. “I felt like, ‘How dare he have private information about Abram and my family?’ Will he spend a long time behind bars?”

  “That depends on his original sentence. I’m not sure what other factors the judge will consider. If you would, write everything down that you remember, including the feelings you had while he was harassing Abram. We’ll take it with us.”

  At home, Abram noticed that the truck was still parked next to his fence. Only now, it bore a long dent that went from the bed to the engine. Indicating this, he chuckled. “Just desserts, seems to me.”

  Bishop Kurtz agreed. “Ya. Until someone can pick that up, that’s where it stays. Unless... Abram, we may be able to move it when we get back.” In the end, nobody could shift the transmission into neutral without the keys. “Well, we tried. That’s where it’ll have to—” Noticing a noise behind him, he turned. “Hello!” The bishop smiled at a harassed-looking woman who hurried up from a second vehicle.