The Crossroad

by Beverly Lewis

  Annie got the biggest smile on her face and hurried out of the kitchen. Susanna couldn’t help but grin, too.

  Ten

  Rachel, still lying down, was prayin’ hard and fast when another knock came at her bedroom door. “Who’s there?” she asked, hoping Mam wasn’t comin’ up to pester her some more.

  “It’s me, Mamma … it’s Annie.”

  “Oh, darling girl, come on in.” She made an attempt to control herself and not let on how pain ridden she really was.

  “Mammi Susanna said I should help you.” Annie’s footsteps were light as she crossed the room to the bedside. “Well, now, how are you gonna help me, little one?”

  “Can I lie next to you?”

  Rachel slid over, making room. Then, holding her breath, trying not to focus on the excruciating pain, she felt Annie place her warm hand on Rachel’s forehead. “Whatcha doin’?”

  “Feelin’ your head. And … I’m makin’ the cross on your forehead three times. Now I’m gonna say something over you.”

  “Like what are you thinkin’ of saying, Annie?” She could feel the goose pimples popping out on the back of her neck. “Who told you to do this?” Rachel was provoked, ’cause she knew. Without a shadow of doubt, she did.

  “Mammi Susanna said I might could cure you” came the tiny voice.

  “Well, don’t you believe a word of it!” Rachel sat up, wishing for all the world she could see her daughter. “What Mammi told you is very, very wrong.”

  “Why would she … why?” Annie sounded as though she might cry.

  “Oh, it’s ever so hard to explain,” Rachel said. “But makin’ chants over folk ain’t what God has in mind for healin’. I know it sure as anything.”

  “But Josh, my little cousin, makes ’em.”

  Rachel sucked in her breath, then coughed. “What do you mean?”

  “He talks like he’s gonna be our doctor someday. It’s what Aunt Lizzy keeps on tellin’ him. I guess Mammi Susanna told her all ’bout curin’ folks’s sickness, too.”

  Rachel’s head hurt from the penetrating pain. But it pained her more knowin’ how the enemy of the soul was workin’ overtime in the hearts of her dear relatives. “We hafta be prayin’ for our healing, not lettin’ Josh or anybody else make chants or spells over us. The Bible teaches against it. Do you understand?”

  “Josh says it’s the People’s way.”

  “Well, that doesn’t make it right. God’s way is always best.”

  Annie seemed to be satisfied enough with Rachel’s answer and didn’t continue to question. She offered Rachel a kiss on the cheek and left the room.

  Rubbing her temples, she breathed a prayer heavenward.

  Rachel knew she had to make a choice. One way or the other. She didn’t want to go back to the silent dark days of denying herself, tellin’ herself lies. She’d been deceived by her own fears, too terrified to remember the truth of whatever it was she’d witnessed at the corner of Highway 340 and North Ronks Road—the Crossroad—where Jacob and Aaron had passed over into eternity.

  She just might have to make herself ride horse and buggy down Ronks Road, coming to a complete stop at the deadly intersection. How she would do such a frightening thing, Rachel did not know. But such an experience was somehow wrapped up in her recovery. She felt sure it was.

  Fully perplexed at Rachel’s desperate state, Susanna told Benjamin she was going to call a driver so she could go into the village after lunch. “I need a bit of breathin’ room,” she admitted, grabbing her coat and boots. “You understand, jah?”

  He looked up from his gardening magazine, frown lines evident. The clothes he wore—long-sleeved white shirt and black broadfall trousers—had been pressed nicely. Rachel’s doing. “Are you perturbed, Susie?” he asked, closing the magazine.

  She clenched her teeth, trying to maintain her composure. “More than I care to say.”

  “Well, then, go ahead. Get it out of your system.”

  Susanna had no idea where she was actually headed. A cup of black coffee and Leah’s listenin’ ear might go a long way toward makin’ her feel some better. “I won’t be gone too awful long,” she said softly.

  “Over to Leah’s?” he asked, getting up and comin’ over to give her a hug.

  “Prob’ly.”

  “Gut idea, if ya ask me.” He kissed her lips, though they pouted in spite of the loving gesture. “I’ll tend to Rachel … if she needs some tea or whatnot.”

  He went to the door with her when the driver arrived. “Now, run along and have yourself a gut time.”

  Oh, she would try to do that. Jah, she would. Anything would be better than stewin’ in the house just now. Both she and Rachel needed space from each other.

  Susanna figured she’d wait to fill Benjamin in on Annie’s statement: “a powerful-strong feeling” that the girl and her mamma were gonna be farmers someday.

  Puh! If that childish notion came true, well, she’d be right surprised. After all, ’twasn’t enough land to go ’round in families much no more, in Lancaster County anyways. Where on earth were Rachel and Annie gonna find themselves land ’round here?

  She attempted to calm herself, staring out the van windows at the white and wintry fields that rolled away from the snow-packed road on either side. Glistening smooth, the street lay ahead, glazed with plowed snow, making for a straight and narrow path, scarcely wide enough to allow automobiles to pass.

  In the distance, rolling hills of frosted ivory scattered across the southern ridge, and for a moment, Susanna had the strange notion that she’d like to go there, far away from home, and find a place of repose. Away from her grown daughter who was behavin’ like a spoiled child.

  She thought back to the days when Rachel was just a little girl—bashful as the day is long. A sweet and soft-spoken youngster, Rachel seemed eager to obey. Never once exerted her will, not that Susanna recalled. No, Rachel Zook had been the kind of girl most any Amish parents would be wonderful-glad to have as kin, ’cept that she had always been far different from the older five girls born to Benjamin and Susanna. Rebekah, Naomi, Susie, Mary, and Elizabeth possessed a confident and strong disposition, as did Susanna’s own sisters and mother, and the generations of women before her. Stubborn women.

  Why Rachel had been prone to faintheartedness, coming from a long line of such determined women, had always puzzled Susanna. But here lately, she had come to the conclusion that her youngest daughter was chosen, over all the others, to be the next powwow doctor in the community. Susanna had pondered this many times of late, but more and more she felt strongly that she was right ’bout this. The Almighty One had planted a receptive and humble spirit in Rachel for a right gut reason. She felt confident of God’s plan for the blind woman. Wouldn’t be long, either, till the rest of the People came to understand. She could hardly wait for Rachel herself to grasp the importance of the powwow blessing, once and for all. As for Susanna, she would never rest till that day came.

  Bells tinkled in the air as the van came up behind a horse-drawn sleigh, slowing so as not to spook the horse. A group of women from the Old Order church district were out for some fresh air; either that or they were on their way to a work frolic somewheres. Not having been invited, she wondered where they might be headed.

  When Susanna turned to look more closely, she spied Mary and Lizzy, two of her married daughters, and their teenage girls, Elizabeth Anne, Mary Beth, Katie, Susie Mae, Lydia, and Martha, along for the ride. Why hadn’t she been included? But then again, she s’posed it was plain to see. Folks had declined to ask her to doin’s here lately, knowing full well she’d have to turn them down on account of her work at the B&B. First things first, she always liked to say. And she didn’t feel too awful bad ’bout bein’ passed over, not on a chilly day like this, anyways.

  The more she thought ’bout the women, most of them from her own family and headin’ off somewhere—lookin’ mighty happy, too—she got to thinkin’ that maybe Leah was gone to some frolic,
away from the house.

  Should’ve phoned out to their woodshed, she thought. Leah’s husband or at least one of the older boys would answer out there. That way she could’ve found out if Leah was at home before ridin’ all the way over there for nothin’.

  Oh well, she didn’t much care. Truth was, she needed the aimless ride in the frosty morning. Helped clear her head some, made her breathing come a bit more easy. And helped her stop dwellin’ on the shenanigans her daughter seemed to be pullin’ these days.

  And my, oh my, those tapes from Ohio—they just kept a-comin’, it seemed. Snow, sleet, or shine. Made her wonder, more than ever, what the two women had to say to each other. If she wasn’t such a forthright person, well, she might just be tempted to “borrow” one of ’em and listen in for a change… .

  Turned out Leah was home, and Susanna was mighty glad to see her younger sister. “I had to get out of the house for a while,” she confessed.

  “Rachel?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, bless your heart, you’ll hafta tell me ’bout it.”

  That was all it took for Susanna to open up and pour out her distress. “She’s got a headache … carryin’ on so, same as she did right after Jacob and Aaron died. Makes me think she’s startin’ to recall some of the accident.”

  Leah’s face was tipped slightly, looking at her with keen interest. “You know how it is with certain widows and widowers—they just keep a-livin’ the loss over and over. Maybe that’s what Rachel’s doin’, too.”

  “Grief comes in waves. No question ’bout that.”

  “Jah, but that’s not our way. The People don’t usually carry on so.”

  The words jabbed at Susanna’s heart. She heard the disdain in Leah’s voice. Her sister thought Rachel wasn’t behavin’ like one of them. She was acting more like a modern, “fancy” woman, though she was Amish through and through.

  “I daresay a visit from John Lapp of Paradise might change all that,” Leah said with conviction.

  “You don’t mean …”

  “I most certainly do. And I think you oughta out-and-out invite the smithy to supper some night soon. From what I hear, he showed up over at the Beachy meetinghouse last Monday night.”

  “John Lapp did?”

  “Came lookin’ for your Rachel.”

  “Are you sure now?”

  “A gut many folk spied him there, saw Lavina and Rachel sittin’ up close to the front, too. I got my facts straight on this, Susie.”

  She thought for a moment. “Hmm, now I just wonder what the smithy Lapp might be doin’ for Christmas dinner.”

  Leah was noddin’ her head to beat the band, brown eyes a-smilin’. ’Course, Susanna was smart enough not to even think of mentioning any of this to Rachel. No, it was better kept quiet.

  “Speakin’ of Christmas,” Leah said, “I got a letter from Esther yesterday, and it looks like they’ll be comin’ in on Friday afternoon … Christmas Eve.”

  “First I heard of it,” replied Susanna.

  “I’m awful glad your Rachel said something.”

  “Oh, so maybe that’s what them two’s been cookin’ up.”

  Leah frowned. “What do ya mean?”

  “Well, I’d be lyin’ to you if I didn’t say that there’s been a flurry of taped letters goin’ back and forth between here and Ohio lately.”

  “You’re thinkin’ that Rachel might be needin’ a visit with Esther, is that it?”

  She nodded. “I’d say them cousins are as close as two women ever could be.”

  “Well, now—” and here Leah burst out laughing—“look how close their mammas are!”

  Susanna had to smile at that. “And here I thought maybe there was something else a-goin’ on.”

  “What … with the tapes?”

  “Jah” was all she said. Didn’t wanna stir up curiosity on Leah’s part. Still, she couldn’t help but think there was some mighty important reason for Rachel to be the one asking Esther and Levi to come home for Christmas. Had to be.

  Part Two

  If a man therefore purge himself …

  he shall be a vessel unto honour,

  sanctified, and meet for the master’s use,

  and prepared unto every good work.

  —2 Timothy 2:21

  Eleven

  The sound of busy feet, booted and crunching against polluted snow—shoppers running helter-skelter up and down Broadway and surrounding boulevards—filtered into Philip’s head. He purposely kept his own pace, walking nearer the shops than the curb, noting that not a single person caught in the mad dash of holiday buying seemed remotely interested in peering into the exquisite windows along the avenue. Even the locksmith and pharmacy, ordinary merchandisers, were brimming with beleaguered buyers. The Broadway Nut Shop and Starbucks Coffee were crammed with people waiting in line for gift certificates or a quick snack to boost their spirits.

  Christmas in New York City was precisely the place to be for many. Not for Philip. Not anymore. He could hardly wait to set out for less peopled climes. Namely, the village of Bird-in-Hand, population: three hundred.

  He planned to leave Manhattan in two days by car, long before rush hour, on Christmas Eve. He had discovered, upon calling his travel agent, that there were any number of inn accommodations available in the Reading area this time of year. He would take his time driving to Pennsylvania, delirious with the idea of abandoning the bustling city for a few days. Typically, things were slow at the magazine between Christmas and New Year’s, so the only hurdle had been in getting Kari to understand why he wouldn’t be able to spend the holidays with her and her parents. His mother was visibly unnerved by the news, but he had promised her and Dad—Kari, too—that he’d make up for being gone by hosting an exciting New Year’s Eve party “at my place … or we’ll go to Times Square and watch the ball drop, if you want to,” he’d offered.

  But Kari and her parents preferred to attend church for an old-fashioned Watch Night service. “There’s a European choir,” Kari said, her eyes dancing. “I know you’ll love it, Uncle Phil. We’ll have prayer and communion at midnight.”

  He actually liked Kari’s idea better. So along with the rest of the family, he had agreed to “pray in” the New Year.

  Janice and Ken had seemed rather surprised that he wanted to spend Christmas with Adele. But he assured them—all of them—that this was important and reminded them that he’d never missed celebrating the season with them, “not in twenty-seven years.”

  Time for a new approach to the holy days, he told himself as he slipped into a small corner bookstore, an out-of-the-way spot where he could drink some cappuccino and purchase a gift or two for his niece, a bookworm extraordinaire. He was also on the search for a picture book for Annie Yoder, whom he wanted to see again, almost as much as her mother, Rachel.

  “I saw Mary and Lizzy and their girls heading over toward Hess Road, in a sleigh, no less,” Susanna said while helping Leah wipe down cupboards and later, mopboards. “Thought maybe you’d be goin’ out to the same frolic.”

  “Jah, I heard of it but didn’t much feel like gettin’ out today, not with the roads so awful.”

  “What’s doin’?” Susanna was just too curious to let it drop.

  “Bishop Seth’s great-granddaughter’s havin’ a baby come late March, so some of the younger women were gettin’ together to make a batch of crib quilts.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hope the old bishop lives long enough to see his first great-great-grandson.”

  “So … it’s a boy for sure, then?”

  “Well, the powwow doctor tested her with a penny tied to the end of a string, ya know.”

  “If that’s the case, Bishop Seth can count on it, ’cause the powwow doctors ain’t never wrong. They can even tell how many babies—twins, triplets, ya know—and the sex of each in correct order.”

  Leah frowned, her eyes wide. “Ever wonder why that is?”

  “What?”

 
; “The accuracy of them powwow doctors … what makes them right so often?”

  Susanna shrugged. “Just the way it’s always been.”

  “But how do they know so much? Must be some reason, I’m a-thinkin’.”

  Susanna didn’t make an effort to explain. She didn’t know for sure, really. Just that the “knowing” powers were passed from one person to another through the generations, same as other gifts of enchantment.

  They continued with their cleaning chore, and Susanna came mighty close to bringin’ up her concerns over Esther, who just seemed bent on filling Rachel’s head with things she oughta forget. But she kept her peace and let the matter drop.

  “Hope you get to feelin’ much better, and right soon,” Lavina told Rachel, offering her the cup of chamomile tea and honey she’d made in the Zook kitchen. “Between you and me, I think the Lord’s speakin’ to me … ’bout visiting the Old Order bishop in a couple of days.”

  Rachel plumped a pillow behind her as she sat up in bed. “Is that why you came? To talk to me ’bout goin’ along?”

  “Honest, Rachel, I felt a nudge—strong as anything this mornin’ while I was prayin’. Thing is, ’twouldn’t be right—two unmarried women goin’ to speak to the bishop.”

  “I was thinkin’ the same thing.” Rachel raised the teacup to her lips, her hands trembling.

  “Who wouldja ask to go with us—what man?” She stood at the side of Rachel’s bed, looking down at the poor girl, pale as the moon.

  “Levi Glick would be the best choice, I’d hafta say, but I haven’t heard for sure if they’re comin’ for Christmas or not.”

  Lavina studied awhile. “Oughta be prayin’ … for the Lord’s leading, ya know.”

  “If Dat was in the know ’bout spiritual things, I’d ask him.”