by Beth Shriver
He chuckled. “Try again, and aim.”
She did and hit the worm.
“There, now you’ll catch a fish.”
She tossed her line right after he did. “You think so?”
“Maybe even Charlie.”
“Really?”
Charlie had been caught a handful of times but always returned to the pond. When John had said Charlie was as old as the hills, Annie had looked at the valley and then the rolling mounds and wondered how old that was.
She did catch a fish that day, and she spit on her hook every time she went fishing afterwards.
The cry of a toddler drew her back to the present. The woman with the young child had no rest. The little one was in charge of when he ate, got his toy, and left his seat to explore. Annie had never seen such a small person with so much control over someone older.
The couple she’d noticed earlier ended up together on the bus and found their place toward the back. At first Annie was merely uncomfortable by their show such affection, then her worry grew as she watched the boy’s anger when the girl tried to stop. After witnessing the display, she appreciated John and the respect expected in courting.
As they drove through town, Annie noticed a lot of young adults, many carrying backpacks or tote bags and wearing English clothes. Delores, her seat partner, yawned and stretched. Delores took the scarf out of her bag and tied it around her head and then followed Annie’s gaze.
“Do they attend James Madison University?” Annie asked.
“That, or Eastern Mennonite University. You can’t tell them apart much anymore.” She turned to Annie. “That family you’re staying with sounds real nice. I’m sure they’ll take good care of you. If you need anything, here’s a number where you can reach me.” She squeezed Annie’s hand, slipping a piece of paper into her palm as the bus came to a stop. They silently disboarded then Annie peered over her shoulder and waved good-bye to Delores, who said, “My ride’s here. Good-bye, Annie Beiler.”
“Good-bye to you, Delores.” Annie said a prayer of thanks for this woman who had been so kind to her. She tucked the paper into her handbag and stepped off the bus.
The bus had arrived late, and Annie worried that she’d kept the Glicks waiting. She scanned the room to see if anyone was looking for her. She wasn’t hard to notice in her white cape, plain-cut dress, a kapp, and holding her black-and-white splittail frock coat.
She sat in the center of the room and watched the people while she waited. An unkempt man similar to the one at the Staunton station dug through the garbage and stuffed something into his pocket.
The man saw her watching him and walked over. He favored one side and walked with a limp. He ran a hand through his gray hair and sat beside her. She couldn’t place his smell exactly; it was a mix of body odor, smoke, and what she guessed was alcohol. Some of the Amish teens in her community had gotten together in the Eschs’s barn one night and experimented with alcohol. From what she’d heard the next day, she decided she had no desire to try it.
“Do you have any change to spare?” He coughed loudly, causing Annie to startle. She didn’t think this man meant her harm but prayed for protection. Now she had to figure out what to do for him.
Just as Annie was about to speak a young man walked up and stood in between them. “I’m Rudy Glick.” He was dressed in faded jeans and an untucked, collared shirt. His wide gray eyes flickered from the man to Annie. He held out his hand just as Delores had, and Annie reached her hand up to his, but to her surprise he pulled her up out of the chair and walked away from the older man. He stood only a couple of inches taller than her but held an air of aloofness. Rudy was nice to look at, so Annie made a point not to.
The old man yelled after them sarcastically. “Thanks a lot, mister.”
“So you’re Annie Beiler—” He looked her up and down. “—I assume.”
“Jah, danke for picking me up.” Annie looked back at the old man.
Ignoring her comment, Rudy walked quickly out of the screaming man’s line of sight. “Let’s get your suitcase.”
He walked over to the pile of suitcases the driver was pulling out of the bottom of the bus. He picked out three black suitcases and pointed to each, one at a time. Annie shook her head and smiled as he moved to the next and pointed; hers was the last of the three.
“How did you know one of those was mine?”
“I thought Amish. Moderate size, definitely black, but the defining factor was the leather.”
“Jah, I guess that’s not so common.” She was stunned at his intensity with everything he did, even finding her suitcase.
His chuckle confused her. She tilted her head in question but was hesitant to ask, worried it might throw him off his agenda.
“The jahs. I haven’t heard that for a while.”
Annie’s cheeks warmed.
“You might want to hold back on the Deitsch while you’re here.”
She sighed. Hearing him speak of her sacred tongue in such a way annoyed her, but she understood why she should try to adapt to her surroundings as much as possible. Her clothes would draw enough attention, let alone her word choices.
“It’s nice of your family to take me in.”
“Do you even remember us?” He faced her now with a serious expression.
“Nee, I’m sorry.” Annie didn’t know whether he was disgusted with the distant relationship between their families or if it was about their banishment, but she definitely didn’t want the excommunication to come up. Whatever had happened was between him and his family.
“It was a long time ago.” He stopped at his car and pulled out the keys. “I suppose we were quickly forgotten.” He glanced over at her with a smug look.
Annie didn’t know what to say. She had heard about families who’d left, but she had no intent to speak about what she didn’t remember. Annie opened the car door. She was used to John holding her hand as she stepped up to the buggy and stuck her right hand out, then turned crimson once again and retracted her hand.
Rudy frowned.
“Sorry, it’s a habit.”
His facial features softened. “No problem.”
She pulled at the hem of her dress and studied the inside of his car. She’d never sat in the front of such a vehicle before. Only twice had she been driven anywhere. Once it had been a trip to the town store. The other trip had been to the hospital with mamm when her dawdi passed away.
Rudy walked around to his side and slipped down into the seat. He started the engine and navigated his way onto the busy freeway. “So, why are you here?”
“Your parents didn’t tell you?” If it were her people she wouldn’t be surprised, but then his parents had been once been Amish, and maybe they still respected their ways of privacy.
“No, they said not to ask.” He held the wheel with both hands and switched lanes quickly.
“Maybe that’s for the best.” In truth, she didn’t know anything about this person. He seemed to be fulfilling an obligation, no more. She needed be careful with whom she placed her trust while she was here. “Not to be rude,” she added.
“No offense taken.” He stared straight ahead.
The city was bustling with people—a few elderly and some younger, but most looked to be about her age or Rudy’s. “It looks to me as if the college students are the only people who live here.”
“That’s fairly accurate. Over half of the population are single college students.”
“Do you go to college?”
“I just started my second year at Eastern. I’m enrolled in the engineering program.”
Annie was relieved and surprised a moment later. She felt better that he attended the Mennonite school but was confused at his major. “The Mennonites become engineers?”
“Sure. Doctors, lawyers, all different professions. We manage to live in the world but not of it.”
His words stung a bit, but she didn’t know exactly why. She knew their differences, and so did he. Maybe this was
just to establish things up front. “Are you implying the Amish are wrong to live separately?”
“That’s one reason we left. How can you evangelize when you’re not around nonbelievers?” He seemed oblivious to his cutting words.
Annie was used to the English opinion of them, but this was a former member of her people. “We may not have the opportunities you do to talk about our beliefs, but we live them.” Annie glanced out the window, realizing her words were no better than his. She wasn’t used to defending her faith and didn’t know how far to go with telling him her convictions.
“In a world all your own, how hard is that?” he questioned.
“Depending on others is not a weakness, as the rest of the world might believe.” Annie realized she needed to learn to watch and listen and yield to Gott’s timing in sharing her views.
“So how does banishing or shunning factor in with the depending on others part?”
“I think of the unity in my community as the nine-patch quilt. The individual pieces cannot create disorder. They all need to join together make the entire pattern strong enough to form a whole.”
He seemed to concede and was quiet for a while. “Did I speak too candidly?”
“Nee,” she assured him, although in her heart she felt he had. His words concerning excommunication addressed exactly what was on her mind, and she didn’t need a reminder of it. But she wasn’t there to be friends with these people. She needed to stay focused and find what she’d come for. She sighed inwardly. It might not be as easy as she’d thought.
They drove through an older neighborhood with small houses sitting on tiny lots. Rudy parked by a home with a huge oak tree in front. Its leaves of red, orange, and yellow reminded her of home.
Rudy noticed her admiring the tree and walked over to it.
“Enjoy it. It’s the only one on the place.”
Annie pointed. “These are your initials.”
“My first crush.”
“So you cut into trees to show your affection?”
“You probably have too much sense to do something like that.” He took her suitcase, and they walked through the garage.
“No one knows who they will end up with, and it’s all kept secret until an engagement is announced.”
“How do you keep it a secret?”
“We’re a little more discreet than carving our initials into places where everyone can see.”
“So, do you have a guy back home?” He stopped at the door to the house.
“Not really.” She didn’t know if she was lying or telling the truth. She didn’t know whether John would wait for her or accept her back after leaving. Maybe none of them would.
“Aren’t you at the age everyone marries?”
“Jah, but some wait.”
He turned to her before opening the door. “I guess your business here is more important.” He paused and studied her. “Or maybe you’re one of those who wait?”
She didn’t feel that deliberate about anything in her life right now, not until she found out about the missing part of her. But Rudy Glick seemed to be an intelligent young man, and the last thing she’d let him do was outsmart her. “Jah, I s’pose I am. And I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important.”
He paused, taking in her comment before opening the door.
The television was blaring in one room, music roared from upstairs, a dog bounded toward her, barking, and above it all Rudy yelled out, “She’s here.”
Chapter Eight
SLITS OF SUNLIGHT inched over the hills as John made his way to the house for breakfast.
The animals had been fed and the cows milked, and the processed milk was in cans ready for the truck to pick up to take to the local dairy. Any other day Annie would be just a pasture away. She’d have helped with the milking and prepared breakfast with her mamm and then gotten the children off to school. It was Monday, so she’d do the laundry, and there was always the cooking and washing dishes. And, due to the season, she would work in the garden to gather the last of the herbs and vegetables before the first freeze. Since it was the beginning of fall harvest, Annie would be in the fields tending to the barley crop, just as he would be doing.
It had always been comforting knowing she was just a field or two away doing the same chores he was, almost in sync, as if they were one. Just the way he imaged them once they were married. He chuckled that he’d fallen for an oldest girl. They were almost like second mothers helping their mamms raise their siblings and skillful at the duties to run a home.
John stopped and looked across the way toward the Beiler acreage. Although it hadn’t changed in the few short days since Annie had left, it seemed lonely and cold. He shoved his hands in his pockets as the chill and wind made him shiver. He planned to keep himself busier than usual over the next few weeks or however long it would be until she returned. He tried to keep from being impatient or judging her, but it was difficult sometimes, especially when he was alone.
As soon as he walked in the door, the commotion began. “Gabriel, let Robert be.” His mamm and only sister, Mary, made lunches for the youngest two boys to get them out the door for school.
John rested a hand on Gabriel before they got riled up with one another. “Off you go,” he told them in a firm voice. The two boys responded and made their way out the door with Mary, leaving him and his brother, Isaac, to have a quiet breakfast.
When his daed sat down, his mamm brought out the sausages and placed the dish on the table with the eggs, bread, and coffee.
John took a bite of sausage. “I noticed some weevil in the northwest alfalfa field. Soil nutrients must be out of balance.”
His daed frowned with discouragement and waited for John’s advice on the harvest.
“The rotation may finally pay off this year. The increased grazing pastures have improved. The soil’s rich for planting in the spring. Isaac, pass the bread.”
John’s brother surrounded himself with the platters of food. He was heavier than most for his sixteen years of age and became reticent at mealtimes. He tore off a hunk from the warm loaf and handed the rest to John.
“What’s the weather supposed to be like for the week?”
It pleased John that his daed checked the forecasts but depended on his guidance more.
“The tobacco will be ready soon, but I do have a gut feeling the barley fields are ready. The sun’s beginning to hide a bit more, so today is as good as any.” They all knew those three days of sunshine were necessary to cure the barley in order to store it properly for the winter. His daed nodded, and Isaac didn’t disagree, so the next few days would be busy even into the night, with rests to grab a bite to eat at lunch and dinnertime.
“I hear some upstate are buying their corn from one of the seed corporations. They say it’s near half the price the Doeblers charge.” Isaac shoved a mound of scrambled eggs in his mouth and scooped up more with his fork.
John shook his head. Fortunately Isaac lived a life where physical work was required; if not, his body wouldn’t be able to handle his appetite.
Elam looked over at Isaac. “We farm the way we do because it supports the community. That includes people as well as land and wildlife.”
“And also, buying from the farmers helps preserve genetic diversity of the corn,” John added, but not to Isaac’s liking.
“How do you know?” Isaac actually stopped eating long enough to shake his head at John.
“I just take notice.”
John’s interest in the weather and the advantage it made with the crop was taken by many as boastful instead of helpful. Isaac was one of those people. In his struggle to find a balance, John had decided to only offer his knowledge when asked, which his daed always did. Sometimes it was not enough for Isaac.
“Well, then, that’s more important than saving a few dollars,” Isaac stood. “I’m finished, so I’ll meet you two slowpokes outside.”
John chuckled and looked at his daed, who was grinning. “Guess we shou
ld stop eating so much and get to work like Isaac.”
Elam and John stepped out the front door just as Hanna rode up with Amos in a wooden wagon, pulling three mules that were tethered to the back—just what they needed to add to their team to keep their three wagons in motion. Their neighbor, David, was the eldest of four brothers and had come to help. With their muscle they had the needed manpower. The additional mule power would even things out.
“Morning, Amos, Hanna.” David stepped closer to the wagon and shook Amos’s hand. He jumped down from the wagon, and they began a conversation about the weather.
Hanna jumped off too and walked straight to John, who was untying one of the mules. “You’ll want to stay clear of that one’s back hooves.”
“He’s a kicker, eh?”
John took the lead rope and turned so they were hidden behind the mule. “Hanna, I’m glad you stopped by.”
She smiled and stepped closer. “You are?”
He nodded, “Jah, you’ll be doing a lot of what Annie usually does.”
Hanna tilted her head. “I suppose so.”
“Helping your mamm with all the extra chores.” He continued as if he hadn’t heard her, thinking of the void he felt for Annie. “Filling in for her.”
She brightened suddenly, almost glowed, as if something had shot off in her mind.
John noticed but couldn’t make sense of it. “Have you heard whether Annie made it safely?”
Hanna stopped beaming, but still there was a gleam in her eyes. “No, John. I haven’t.”
John looked out at the field of barley they would soon be cutting and stripping for a good part of their days. It hadn’t been long since Annie had left, but he knew she was around modern communication and that Abraham could get the call at his shop in town and let them know she was at her destination. He’d never wished for the use of such things, but in this case he’d make an exception. If she wanted to be left alone during the rest of her time there, that was fine, but he at least wanted to know this much.
Hanna touched his arm, and he turned his attention back to her. “I’m sure she’s fine, John. We’ll just have to make do without her for a while. You know how she is when she gets something into her head. There’s no changing her mind.”