Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace)

by Beth Shriver

  Annie was baffled. “Excuse me?”

  “A room to rent. That is why you’re here, right?” He took a step in and gestured for her to, as well.

  “No, I’m here to see Monica Taylor.” Using the name seemed strange. This was her blood, but she couldn’t roll the name off her tongue without it sounding foreign.

  “Yeah, she owns the place.” He’d never stopped walking and went to the first room, which Annie assumed was the kitchen. He came back in and waved her over. “This is Ms. T.” He grabbed a handful of chips from a bowl on the table and left again.

  A woman stood at the sink skinning carrots. Her brown hair revealed red streaks in the morning sun that shone through a large window in front of her. Her white apron showed stains of many colors, to which she added as she wiped her hands and turned to Annie. “And who might you be?”

  Her eyes were Annie’s—almond-shaped with brown centers, surrounded with lily white. If this was her mother, she was not the type of person Annie had expected. “I’m looking for Ms. Taylor.”

  “What can I do for you?” She picked up the end of her apron and wiped a hand, then let it drop.

  Annie worried that her being there might bring back her mother’s trauma. She hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

  “You can look around the place if you want to see if it’s what you’re looking for.” Then she smiled, Annie’s smile.

  “We might be related.” Annie fumbled for words. How could she put this in a way that would make it flow any easier? “You see, I’m looking for my mother.”

  Ms. Taylor’s eyes widened. They stood silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Annie Beiler.” She waited. Was that enough?

  Monica put a hand to her chest. “How old are you…Annie?”

  “I’m eighteen. I’ve grown up in an Amish community a couple of hours from here.”

  The older woman’s eyes clouded, and she swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

  “I might be your daughter.” Annie paused, frozen except for her wavering gaze. “If this file is correct.” She held up the folder with a shaking hand.

  “I didn’t think you’d come.” Monica shook her head, as if she didn’t need proof. Maybe she could see the resemblance as Annie did.

  “You answered the registry.”

  “But I didn’t think this would happen.”

  Annie thought about how close she had come to leaving. “Me either.”

  Monica’s rosy cheeks went pale as she walked to the table. “Sit, please.”

  Annie walked over in silence, not knowing what to say next. The sound of the chair scraping across the floor grated in her ears. “I didn’t think I’d find you.”

  “I’m glad you did.” She looked down. “I didn’t want you to, not for all these long years. But when they gave me word you had registered, I knew it was a sign.”

  “What kind of sign?”

  “God. Telling me to give the information needed for you to come to me, if it was His will. It wasn’t for me to decide anymore.”

  Annie couldn’t hold back her surprise. This woman wasn’t anything like she’d expected. It showed Annie how judgmental she was of people in the secular world. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “How I was conceived.”

  Monica held her head evenly, as if to steady her thoughts. “Is it in that file?”

  Annie nodded. “You gave consent for me to have access to the police information.”

  “I didn’t know if you would still want to come if you knew.” Monica twined her fingers together and looked down at them. “The police got involved. There were witnesses.” Her face was blank, as if she had to numb herself to talk about it.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Annie didn’t know whether she really wanted the facts, to hear such a story. But a part of her wanted to know what her mother had been through to better understand why she would have made the choice she did.

  “I was just out of high school, had two jobs to earn money for college. Walking home from work one night two men came out of nowhere.” Monica swallowed and averted her eyes. “It was horrible at first.”

  Annie narrowed her eyes in confusion.

  “But when I shut my eyes…squeezed them shut…I felt my lips move. I was praying. As if the Holy Spirit had taken over my tongue.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “The next thing I remember was one man standing over me and another with his back to me, walking away.”

  “You think your prayer stopped them?”

  “No.” The flicker of a sad smile crossed her face. “I just don’t remember.”

  Annie let the quiet sound of her breathing settle her mind. The buzzing in her head had begun the moment she recognized this woman’s face as her own. Seeing the sadness in her eyes made Annie wish she’d never come. She felt selfish needing to hear this at the cost of the nightmare coming back to haunt this humble woman. “I shouldn’t have brought that anguish back to you.”

  “It’s right that you know.” Monica winced as if in physical pain, and then looked up at Annie. “You have my eyes.”

  Annie smiled. “I noticed that too.”

  Monica tilted her head, her expression changing. “But you have his features as well.”

  Annie twisted in her seat, as if she’d been shocked. Those ugly thoughts wasted no time. You are tainted.

  The tears rolled silently as she sat in that kitchen completely vulnerable. She had the eyes and faith of her mother, but the rest of her resembled a man of hate and vulgarity.

  Monica placed a light touch on Annie’s knee. “Annie, I’ve forgiven those men, and look what God has done. He’s brought us together.”

  The words burned into her chest as she heard them. She had been raised in a culture whose foundation was built on forgiveness, but it was Monica who was the one being merciful, not her. She was drowning in self-pity, while Monica had gone through a horrific situation and was pardoning the ones who damaged her.

  “How can you absolve this?” Annie meant it as an honest question. Her heart wasn’t in the same place as this woman’s, and she wasn’t the one who’d gone through the trauma Monica had.

  Monica smiled slightly, as if she could see the confusion in Annie’s heart. “When it’s hard and I feel those memories creep in, I think to myself that when I am communing with God while holding those thoughts against others, I need to stop and forgive so that my sins can be forgiven.”

  Annie puzzled the words together into the verse. “Mark eleven, twenty-five.”

  Monica nodded then looked down at her hands. “It was difficult at first. Some days I couldn’t do it, but now most of the time I can.” She touched Annie’s arm. “And the freedom has revived me, set me free from the bitterness I once felt.”

  Annie stared. The depth of her birth mother’s faith shocked her. Why, exactly, she wasn’t sure. Was it a stereotype she had in her head of what she thought Englishers were like? She had prejudged Monica just as many judge the Amish; Annie never thought she was one of those people.

  “I wish I were that far along with all of this.” Annie thought aloud, to her own surprise.

  Monica leaned back against her chair and narrowed her eyes in thought. “You need a verse, one of your own that will help you remember how to set your mind when you pray.”

  Annie let out a small grunt, thinking of all her petitions to Gott to wash her clean of all of this, but never had she prayed for her mother or the rapists, only for herself.

  “Ephesians four, thirty-two.” It came to her from something outside herself, the Holy Spirit touching her mind and soul.

  Monica nodded and looked up, obviously trying to place the verse. “Forgive one another just as Christ forgave you?” She questioned her accuracy and looked to Annie for confirmation.

  There was more to it, but Annie just smiled. She’d gotten the important part, the part Annie needed to hear. The being kind and compassionate to one
another part was something she did well. But doing good works without the forgiveness hadn’t worked, and it was the piece she needed to heal from this.

  “I’m glad I met you, Monica Taylor.” Annie felt the heat rise in her cheeks, along with a flood of emotions.

  Monica’s tender ways were shown to Annie again when she laid a warm hand over hers. “Thank you for finding me, Annie. I didn’t have your courage.”

  The words didn’t sound right. In Annie’s mind, it was Monica who was brave.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A BASEBALL FLEW PAST him. John leaned to the right, extending his arm to catch it. Slap! The pain hit his palm and then spread throughout the rest of his hand.

  David chuckled. “Better find a glove, my friend.”

  The throb flowing throughout his hand angered him, almost enough to call David out, to put it all on the table right then and there. Dancing around this courting game, with him being the third wheel, was more than he could handle.

  “Oof!” A glove hit him on the leg at the same time David yelled, “Catch.”

  John turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “Next time you might let me know before you throw.” He took in a deep breath to contain his temper.

  The last time he had gotten physical, Isaac had wrestled him to the ground for the last chicken leg. He had innocently laid it on his plate without knowing Isaac had claimed it, not with his mouth but with his stomach. John had teased him by dangling the leg in front of his face. Most everyone had left the table, with the exception of the two of them and Gabriel, who was only five at the time. Isaac had stood to gain a height advantage but tripped on the bench and fell forward, catching himself by placing his hand on the table. This made him even angrier, and he charged him, head down, arms pumping, and nothing between them. Thinking he could block him, John had set his feet and waited for the hit. Unfortunately they hadn’t wrestled much lately, and he hadn’t expected the bulk Isaac had put on. When Isaac made contact, John had flown backward and hit his bottom on the wood floor. He had raised a handkerchief he’d grabbed off the bench seat to surrender, which had brought Isaac out of his frenzy. Remembering this, John didn’t know whether it would end so well if he tangled with David.

  John walked over to a basket filled with baseball equipment. He tossed in the glove David had thrown at him and fished around to find another that fit him but stopped upon hearing Hanna’s laugh. She walked along with two young women her age, and each had a handle on a smaller basket but couldn’t get their stride in sync to carry it.

  John instinctively went over to help them, but the closer he got, the less he felt inclined to rectify the situation. Their giggles and smiles showed their amusement, and he didn’t want to spoil their fun.

  “Mind if I grab a glove out of here?” He bent over to take the one he wanted and moved out of their way.

  Hanna placed her hands on her hips. “Well, John, aren’t you going to help us with this basket?”

  He grinned. “No, I think you’re doing just fine.” As he walked away, he heard her grunt with disapproval.

  He looked out to the field that had been left for pasturing. Having been freshly cut, it made for a good sports ground, Amish style. The short, dry grass made it easy to run and slide, and the size was twice that of any baseball stadium. A large group of men and boys were on the field with a handful of girls. John took his place on a team and chose first base. His brother took the out-field, and David stood in the middle to pitch. Annie’s brother Eli claimed third base, and Alma covered second. John smiled, liking that the midwife was on their team.

  “We need a catcher,” David called out, causing a number of boys to turn and see who would volunteer and brave David’s fastball.

  Out ran Augustus, heading full speed for his place behind Jacob, who was up to bat. He stood straight, motionless, as David wound up and threw the ball. Augustus’s right hand flicked out, and the ball hit smack into his glove.

  “Ouch!” Augustus shouted, but he shook out his hand and got back into position.

  “Strike,” Eli called out, playing the role of umpire.

  The spectators cheered for whichever team their significant others were on. Little ones made their own little field next to the seating area and ran around in circles until they got dizzy. The women made popcorn with plenty of butter, and others brought drinks to share. They placed the food on a long table until it was filed with cookies, cake, and shoofly pie. The young ones heard that hotdogs were supposed to be part of the menu, so the ladies did their best to make their own. It was a time to relax, enjoy, and have fun. They were hard workers and hard players.

  David held the ball in both hands at his waist, waiting for Elam to ready himself for the next throw. David’s hand spun out again, and this time Elam’s bat contacted the ball. It blasted into the outfield. He made it to first base and stopped when Isaac grabbed the rolling ball.

  A good hitter took the plate, so John backed up a bit. The ball shot off like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the grass, trimmed just long enough to make him hunt for it. John made the throw in time to stop him from reaching home, but Elam made it just in time.

  As John walked up closer to the base, he looked over to the wagons, barrels, and into the makeshift stadium seating the community had made so they could move it according to which field was with crop. It was just habit to look for Annie’s face in the crowd; when she wasn’t watching the game, she was in it. He liked it even better when she was out there on the field with him. She’d run for those bases like her shoes were on fire and then try to steal a base when the baseman wasn’t looking. Every time she got up to bat, she’d have that huge grin that told him she was enjoying herself. He hadn’t seen that face for so long the image had begun to fade. For once in his Amish life he wished he had a picture, one of her doing something natural that would make it feel like she was there with him.

  “We need two more outs, Yoder.” David’s voice brought him back.

  So now they were allies, trying to win a game, not a girl. He had to keep up with David, and Hanna too for that matter. Things used to be so clear and simple. He knew what was going to happen each day, each week, each month, and what his future held. And now…

  His gaze swept through the stands again and caught Hanna smiling and waving. He waved back, and then saw David make the same gesture. John was behind him, so David didn’t see that they’d both thought she was waving at them. He shook his head.

  This was an awkward situation, one he didn’t know what to do about, a vicious circle that left him confused and uncomfortable. Did David really care for her, or did he just not want John to be in the picture? He had seen David with Emma as well. As far as that went, John wondered what exactly he felt for Hanna. Was she a replacement for Annie? He knew for sure it was a reason for him to be with her family. And why wasn’t Hanna clear about her feelings toward them? Was it honest confusion on her part as to whom she really cared for, or was it just to fill Annie’s shoes, as she seemed to be working so hard to do? John’s world had gone upside down, and if Annie didn’t return home soon, he couldn’t ever see it turning right side up again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  WHEN ANNIE HEARD the news, the only thing she could think about was how desperately she needed to talk to John. For the first time since she’d been at the Glicks’s home, she stood and stared at the television. Reports of five Amish girls being killed at gunpoint by a frequent visitor sent shock waves through her.

  Although the location was faraway, up north, she couldn’t help but feel that she was grieving along with that Amish community. Her sisters in Christ had lost their lives. It was so difficult to understand how violence could take place among such peaceful people.

  The news droned on about the particulars, which Annie didn’t want to hear; she just needed to know that their needs were being taken care of and the community was holding strong.

  “It’s hard to believe.” Rudy’s sudden appearance made Annie start a
nd turn slowly to face him.

  She hadn’t realized how absorbed she was in the story until she heard his voice. “Doesn’t seem real.” Her voice strained under the stress and came out more like a whisper.

  “Why?” was the only word that would squeak out, but as soon as she said it, she realized there couldn’t be any reason that would make a difference.

  “He went to the school; let the boys go, but kept the girls. Within the hour all ten were shot, along with the gunman.”

  “I know what happened. Why would this happen—to them?” She stared at the screen, watching the women with white prayer kapps and capes with black dresses as they cried into their handkerchiefs. The men gathered around with worn faces, embracing the women and holding their children. It all looked too familiar, too close to home, and she was so far from her home.

  Annie felt Rudy’s arm wrap around her, and she tightened. Engulfed in the story, she ignored his touch and took a step closer to the television, then randomly pushed some buttons until the volume went up.

  “You could have used this.” Rudy offered her the remote, but she brushed it away, not knowing how to use it any better than she did the buttons on the TV.

  Different Amish people were asked about the incident. Many responded with a polite, “No, thank you.” Others spoke a few words, but those small numbers were profound and shocked the secular world. An anchorman held a microphone toward a daed of one of the boys who were in the school. “We are struggling but urging forgiveness of the killer and quietly accepting what comes our way as Gott’s will.” He nodded slightly and walked away before the man with the microphone had a chance to ask him anything further.

  Rudy grunted. “In most other communities there would be an outcry for tighter gun laws, better security, and threats to the gunman’s family.”

  Annie turned slowly to him. She never would have guessed that those thoughts would come about after something like this. But Rudy, after being on the other side for all this time, would instantly think of those responses.