by Amy Field
Martha simply smiled at her in acknowledgement of her greeting as she marveled at the uncanny resemblance between them. Leah was the exact replica of her when she was in her teen years. Her long curly blond hair was covered by the prayer kapp she wore and the plain navy blue dress hid her attributes well but her bright blue eyes, her thin pink lips, her cute little button nose and her rosy cheeks were alluring enough to beguile a ton of young men like her mother’s had more than two decades ago.
It brought up memories of the gangly teenaged boy whose charms she had succumbed to back then, and who up to this day could elicit a mass of strong emotions from her.
Stephen had left the community as suddenly as he had reappeared and though she missed him and the way he made her feel – special and loved, she knew it was for the best.
They had kept up their amorous affair for well over two years before the anxiety of being found out and the guilt of what she was doing became too much to bear.
“We can’t do this anymore Stephen,” she spoke as she lay tucked into his side, her mass of curls spread across his chest like a curtain.
“You’ve said that before, but it doesn’t mean anything,” he spoke after a while in thought.
Raising herself unto her elbow so that she could stare into his eyes, she saw a look of wariness in their green depths. It broke her heart to do this but it was necessary as she could not continue to live the double life.
With each secret meeting and simple glances in public that conveyed a deeper meaning than what onlookers could decipher there was still the threat of being found out and she had thought long and hard about the implications it would have for her children who had become her pride and joy.
It now became necessary to secure their future and wellbeing over hers even if it meant staying in a love-less marriage and carrying on with the mundane life she had led before his return two years ago.
“I am running out of excuses to tell Matthew,” she tried to explain, “And I know Anne knows that we are still together but whatever you have on her is forcing her to keep her mouth shut for the time being but it doesn’t mean it will last forever.”
“We have been careful Martha, no one knows about us,” he reasoned with her, reaching up to curve one hand over her cheek.
She reached up and took his hand in hers, staring intently into his eyes.
“I can’t do this anymore Stephen,” she repeated with finality. “I want more than this,” she gesticulated with her hand highlighting the fact that they were in an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of the community.
“We can’t have that,” she continued as he remained silent not knowing what to say to rebuff her statement as the reality hit him that all they had were moments shared in secret.
“I have to think about the future and my children – how this would affect them if it ever got out.”
“I love you,” he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. It warmed her heart like it always did when he spoke them but she would not be swayed by them today.
“But it’s not enough,” she confessed.
Detaching herself from him she proceeded to make herself presentable.
“Goodbye Stephen,” she spoke softly as he remained in the same position, his expression unreadable. She exited the barn with tears streaming down her face as her heart constricted with the weight of what she had just done.
The following day Anne showed up at their doorstep with an evil glint in her eyes and a broad and cunning smile on her face.
“Did you hear?” she asked cheerily.
Not in the mood for her games, she simply waited for the treacherous woman to continue.
“Stephen has left the community,” she finished triumphantly.
Martha felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs and she had to hold on to the door post to support her weak legs.
“Once a heathen, always a heathen,” she finished.
That was eight years ago. With time she learnt to cope with his departure just as she had been forced to do the first time he left the community. She threw herself into the routine she had been accustomed to for years, but now with her husband dead and her boys off starting their own families, she was relegated to someone of unimportance and with the additional time on her hands, she found her mind was wont to stray to the old memories she had of her first and only love.
“I’m making pancakes and eggs and I’ve started on the ingredients for an apple pie,” Leah continued on, effectively pulling her out of her reverie.
“Oh you did?” she asked mildly surprised as she knew Leah was industrious and always trying to find ways to impress her.
“Yes,” she replied pleased with herself. Martha simply nodded her head in approval.
“Before I forget, Deacon Mark came by when you were out yesterday evening.”
“Oh he did?” she asked surprised once more.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing much, he brought over a basket of apples and said to wish you a good evening,” she responded.
“Oh,” Martha replied simply as she felt heat rush to her cheeks.
She had noticed since last month that he had been showing keen interest in her. For the past two meetings he had made it a point of duty to seek her out and to ask her about how she had been coping on the farm that was now left in her care after her husband’s death. He had been a little shy and she found it cute that she made him nervous.
She was also flattered by the attention as he was much younger than her, maybe by at least seven years, and not to mention the fact that he was a handsome man. He was a widower as well and had two young children who probably needed a motherly figure in their life.
She had not imagined ever getting married again. But here she was thinking of the possibility of actually tying the knot once more, and instead of fear and caution she felt eager anticipation.
“Well I shall thank him when I see him next,” she replied before turning her attention to the platters containing the pancakes and eggs.
“I’ll take these into the dining room. Why don’t you put on a pot for kaffe?” she asked while lifting and balancing the food in her hand.
“Ok mother,” she agreed thankful for the help.
Martha pushed open the kitchen door and made her way back to the house as the cold February air whipped her in the face. After placing the platters on the table she proceeded to set two mats at opposite ends of the table before getting out the plates and cutlery they would be using for the meal.
When Leah came in with the coffee they both sat down to enjoy the meal.
“For what we are about to receive Lord, we give thanks,” Martha prayed shortly. “Amen.”
The simple prayer held so much memory for the two of them. In its ritualistic repetition, it was symbolic of the time the whole family was together. Her two boys would be on either side of the table, closest to their father while Leah sat closer to her. They would then all be required to recite the memory verse they had been commissioned to study by their father with the promise of punishment if they slipped.
“Have you thought about what you’d like to do after you graduate come July?” Martha asked Leah conversationally; something that had never been encouraged while Matthew was alive.
Placing her fork back onto the plate, Leah turned her attention to her mother.
“Well, Miss Yoder said if I want I could become her assistant for the next term,” she spoke hopefully.
“And this is what you want to do?” Martha asked carefully.
Leah had always expressed an interest in becoming an either an educator or a lawyer but in the eyes of her father, women were to be seen and not heard. He constantly made reference to scriptures that alluded to this.
While Matthew was alive this was not a possibility and she tried as best she could to dissuade Leah from mentioning this in his presence. Now that he was gone, she was more willing to encourage her daughter to pursue her dreams. She still feared for her as she knew that being a me
re school teacher would not be enough to challenge her daughter who had shown her displeasure in the role that females were relegated to in the community.
Her views though plausible to Martha was not shared by many especially the men and was enough to pose a possible threat to her daughter’s standing in the community.
“Well not entirely,” she answered “But Miss Yoder promised to teach me more than what I have learned.”
As she spoke, Leah played with the food on her plate, using the fork to push the food around the plate absentmindedly. It brought Martha’s sight to her actions – observing. She usually did this when she was feeling anxious about what she had to say.
“That would be wonderful,” Martha agreed and earned a look of surprise from Leah as she widened her sky blue eyes and her lips slightly parted.
“But how will she be able to do this?” she asked.
“Miss Yoder has a lot of books in the library at her home. She lets me read whatever I want,” Leah replied excitedly.
Martha nodded her head, encouraging her to go on.
“Did you know that she moved away from here when she was younger to live in the world of the Englischers?” her daughter asked getting more animated as she spoke about what she had been doing at school.
“Yes, Sarah met a young Englischer who came to visit his aunt and ran away with him,” she offered. “When he died she moved back here.”
“How do you know so much?” Leah marvelled.
“Nothing goes unnoticed in this community, Leah. And this all happened before you were even born,” explained Martha.
“Well she brought back a ton of books and school equipment when she came back and she lets us use them if we want,” Leah continued unperturbed.
Martha watched as her daughter continued to speak about her time at the little school that Sarah ran from out of her home; her excitement growing with each word that left her mouth.
“And have any young men at the school or the community caught your eye thus far?” Martha asked interrupting her daughter’s lively chatter about all she had learned thus far.
This earned her a look of perplexity from her daughter before her features transformed into one of contempt.
“Of course not mother," she replied, “the men in this town are so undesirable.”
“Why do you say that?” Martha asked careful not to offer an opinion until she could comprehend her daughter’s thought pattern.
“I don’t know,” she replied absorbed in her thoughts as she contemplated the reason for her indisposition towards the men of their community.
“They just don’t peak my fancy.”
When her mother made no move to respond she continued, “I read this book Miss Yoder has. It was a story about love. It was so romantic how the man did all that was in his power to make the female feel how much he loved her and it had me thinking that I want a love like that. The men here are only looking for someone who will become an obedient wife and bear them children, but in the book the women were able to speak their minds…”
Realizing where her daughter was headed, Martha quickly interjected.
“But these stories are not real Leah,” she reasoned. She then fixed her daughter who more and more reminded her of her youth with a pointed stare.
“Our reality is that we must live a Godly life and marry Godly men that will provide for their family. You must understand that what you are saying will only cause trouble in the end” she finished with a sigh.
Reaching her hand across the table she lightly curved it over her daughter’s cheek in a display of affection as she continued to stare intently into the blue eyes that mirrored hers.
“There is so much that I want for you Leah, but I am also afraid for you because you remind me so much of myself when I was younger and naïve. You are allowed to make some mistakes at this age but I must also warn you that they usually come with a price that may be too high to pay.”
Allowing her hand to fall away from her daughter’s face, she arose from her chair and proceeded to clear the table. Leah arose as well and in silence she helped her mother take the dishes towards the kitchen and rinsed while Martha washed.
Martha’s heart ached with the knowledge that her daughter’s dreams and aspirations would not be attained – at least not if she remained apart of the community. She really wanted what was best for Leah and would have done anything to make it possible, but after witnessing countless persons returning to the community broken in some way or the other when life on the outside didn’t quite go as they planned she feared that this would be the same for her daughter.
“Leave it, you’ll be late for school,” Martha instructed her daughter when she reached for the knife and started peeling the apples that Deacon Mark had dropped off.
“I will do it,” she finished when Leah made an attempt to protest. “I also need to go to the market to get some groceries, so I will drop you at Sarah’s on my way.”
After dropping off Leah at the little school that was on her way to the market, Martha steered her horse and buggy towards the market. After getting some fruits and ground produce Martha made her way across the street towards the small mercantile to purchase counter flour, rice, sugar, a cut of beef and pork chops. When she exited the store, her hands were full to capacity with the brown paper bags that housed her goods. She slowly made her way in the direction of where she parked her buggy.
“Do you need any help?” came the familiar deep baritone voice of the deacon from behind her. Martha whipped around to see him with an inviting smile on his lips even as he eyed her packages.
“Oh would you?” she asked, pleased that he was offering to help her.
Without another word, he took the bags out of her hands leaving her arms feeling twenty pounds lighter. He then started to walk towards her buggy that was parked a few feet away and she fell in step with him.
After placing her items into the passenger side he turned his full attention on her.
Martha couldn’t help but admire how handsome Deacon Mark was. His curly blond hair, though cut in the traditional Amish style, was unruly even as it peeked from under his felt hat in tiny ringlets. His clean-shaven face provided her with a good view of his angular face and strong jawline that was bronzed from working long hours in the sun. He had green eyes that reminded her of the moss covered trees in the woods she used to frequent after it rained. It represented a type of peace and tranquillity that she felt only when she was there, isolated from the world around her.
Today he did not wear a jacket over his plain blue shirt and suspenders and she was able to admire how broad his shoulders seemed to be. She couldn’t help the blush that reddened her cheeks as her vision took in the corded muscles of his arms that showed where he had rolled up his shirt sleeves.
“Thank you very much Deacon Mark,” Martha said still looking anywhere but at the man before her fearful that he would see how affected she was by his presence.
“It was no trouble at all, Martha and please just call me Mark,” he requested.
At his petition for her to refer to him by just his first name and not the title Martha felt a little giddy with the implications of such an appeal.
“Thank you then Mark,” she returned, liking the way how his name rolled off her tongue.
“Did you receive my gift?” he asked smiling down at her as he was much taller than her 5ft 5inches.
She looked at him confused by his question as she did not recall him giving her anything other than the apples he had delivered to her home the day before. It suddenly dawned on her that he was referring to it and she quickly replied.
“Yes thank you. I was about to thank you for them but I guess you beat me to it,” she replied, releasing a short laugh.
After that it became awkward as neither knew how to proceed from there. Mark scratched the back of his neck which was a sign of his nervousness.
“Well, uh, let me help you up,” he offered while gesturing to her buggy after some time of not s
aying anything.
“Thank you,” Martha replied putting her small hand into his large calloused one that fit hers like a glove.
The instant warmth of his hand sent a jolt of electricity up her arm causing her to raise her eyes to look at him. If he felt the current that just passed through her from their touch he didn’t show it as he kept his eyes focused on helping her up into the buggy. Once she was seated properly, she took the reins before turning to him.
“Thank you so much for your help, Mark. It was a pleasure seeing you,” she spoke while plastering a sincere smile on her lips.
Mark tipped his hat in acknowledgement before replying, “The pleasure was all mine Martha.”
His moss green eyes held her blue eyes captive for quite some time before the honking of a horn drew them out of the trance like state they had found themselves in.
“Goodbye for now, Martha. I’ll be hoping to see more of you soon,” Mark said, his voice exuding a confidence he didn’t have a few moments ago. It caused heat to travel up her neck and rest in her cheeks making them rose red for the second time since they met up. For fear that her voice would betray her, she provided a simple smile hoping he wasn’t focusing on how embarrassingly red her cheeks had become, She slapped the reins against the horse’s side and prodded him forward.
As if a sixth sense was telling her that he was still looking in her direction, Martha turned to see Mark standing in the same position she left him, looking straight at her. She quickly ducked her head even as a broad smile made its way onto her lips and the feeling of butterflies in her stomach made her want to shout for joy.
The feeling, though not new to her, was in a sense new territory as the only person who had ever elicited such a response from her was no longer a part of her life – she didn’t even know if he was still in the land of the living. No-one had heard anything fromSteven since he left.
Perhaps it was better that way.
Making her way to the pantry to put away the things she had bought at the market, her mind dwelt on her encounter with Mark. She couldn’t help the smile that was still spread across her features and she revelled in the feeling of regaining some semblance of her old self that was cruelly crushed by the harsh realities that her world had to offer.