I looked at my phone one more time, the message that had given up my hiding place still there on the screen. My sister’s warning about Sean:
He’s coming. He knows. I’m sorry. Run.
Feeling the sense of panic run through me at her warning, I shut off the phone in a rush and shoved it in my bag. Sean was out there somewhere, and until I knew how he had found me, I wouldn’t give him any way of finding out I was here now. I straightened my dress one last time and made my way down stairs, the well-worn stair treads creaking as I went.
Turning the corner and still fiddling with my head covering, I didn't notice the tall figure in front of me until my face met with his solid, heated chest. I stumbled back, nearly falling until strong hands reached out to right me. I steadied myself before looking up to apologize to the man I had run into. My words died in my mouth when I found myself gazing into the dazzling green depth of his eyes.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as those eyes continued to look through me.
I was incapable of moving, he had rendered me immobile in hands that held me as if I would break if he squeezed too hard. He continued to stare intensely at me, his eyebrows knitting together as he seemed to come to his own senses and shake his head slowly. He let me go, his strong hands slipping away cautiously until he knew I was able to stand on my own.
"No, I must apologize. I did not see you there. Did I hurt you? I… I do not know you," he said, his voice soft and cautious with a similar cadence as Jonah’s.
I shook my head and tried to smile up at him. It was hard to concentrate while I took in the man before me. He was tall, so much so that I had to crane my neck slightly to look up at him. His short, mussed hair was streaked golden as if he spent most of his days in the sun. Judging by the soft wrinkles around his eyes and sun kissed cheeks, I assumed that he must. I watched as he licked at his full, dry lips, swallowing hard enough that I could hear it over the rushing in my ears.
"Uh, I'm Kate. I'm… visiting." I extended my hand out to him in greeting.
He paused; eyeing my outstretched hand like it was diseased before looking back up to offer me a timid smile. His face softened as he regarded me and the suspicion that had been in his eyes before was replaced with a friendlier crinkle around them.
"Welcome, Kate. I am Nathan. Are you staying with Elder Jonah and his family?" he asked, never taking my hand. Instead he moved his hands to grip the suspenders over his chest, as if fighting some temptation to touch me.
I blushed and put my hand down, assuming I must have violated some strict Amish custom in my handshake. I took a step back hesitantly, to put more space between us. I was already warm in all the layers of clothes I had to wear and his nearness didn't seem to help the heat. I still felt the ghost warmth of his solid chest against my face, a tingling sort of feeling everywhere I had made contact with him.
He was broad across the shoulders like I would expect a farmer to be, but his height made him look a little lanky, as if he had grown too fast and his trim body was still catching up. He couldn’t have been too much older than me, perhaps twenty. The sun had aged him like the surfers and sailors at home so it was difficult to guess. He had a roughness about him that told me he worked a hard life, but that was where the roughness stopped. His eyes held a kindness I wasn’t used to in a man. He was not as imposing in stature as Sean, but still he was a man and I knew well enough what men could do. Even with this man’s gentle smile and the way he had held me, he was a stranger to me.
"Katherine!"
The forceful voice startled me, and I jumped again, this time forward towards Nathan, who awkwardly grasped me by the waist to steady me again. I was sure I had stepped on him, because he lurched away abruptly, his hands pressing me against the wall before retreating a step. He shook his head as if to clear it, darting his glance down the hallway towards the voice before he turned and rushed out of the back door without another word.
I watched his strong back as he left in the waning light, his cream shirt stained with sweat and his neck long and almost elegant under the black hat he pulled down over his hair. He glanced back once, a troubled frown on his face before he turned around again and quickened his pace up the hill and through the field away from the house to disappear behind the hill.
"Katherine, are you dressed? It is supper. Come! The family is waiting," the voice said again from down the hall.
I turned from the strange man and made my way down the hall, into a lantern lit dining room. At the head of the table sat Jonah, watching me with a kind smile as he waved me in. Around the table sat a few other people I had not yet met. To one side of me sat a small, frail looking girl with dark wispy hair peeking out of her head cover. She was possibly my age, maybe a little older, but she was shorter than even me, stunted somehow. Her large dark brown eyes took me in openly, and her smile was very welcoming.
In stark contrast to her was the tall red-haired girl across from her, who barely glanced my way before looking back towards the window and the darkening sky beyond. Next to her sat another girl, a child with pale blonde hair that was bound in braids that wrapped around her little head. She looked up at me with the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen with open curiosity as I slowly moved to sit beside the dark-haired girl.
"Family, please welcome to our home Katherine Hill. She is visiting us from the outside. Please assist her in blending in to our ways while she is here," he said warmly, glancing to his right and his left at his daughters.
The dark haired girl beside me turned and smiled warmly as I sat beside her.
"I am Emma. I am happy to have you as a sister while you are here, Katherine," she whispered, beaming.
"Oh, you can call me Kate," I corrected, only to close my mouth when Jonah cleared his throat.
It was not aggressive or accusatory like my father would do, merely commanding in an intense sort of way. It still frightened me a bit, unsure of this man’s temperament.
"We shall abide by your God-given name as your parents thus named you. We will go by Katherine, even if it be an English name," he explained.
I nodded and laid my fidgeting hands in my lap, suddenly nervous that anything I did now would be construed as "outsider" or English as I had learned they called people like me. Jonah had filled me in a little of his community on the buggy ride in from town. I was an outsider, and would raise suspicion if I acted as such. I would pose as someone from another community visiting their home.
It was just for a couple of days, but I wanted to pay my way to this family, however I could. A few days dressed up like a pioneer wouldn’t be so bad if it kept me hidden long enough for Sean to give up and go home. I needed all the help I could in order to blend in and live by their rules judging by the man, Nathan’s, reaction to me.
I let my gaze wander as I felt the sisters regard me, until finally Fannie, Jonah's wife portioned out our supper. Fannie was pretty, in a plain sort of way, tall with long dark hair that plaited and wrapped neatly beneath her hair covering, and large warm eyes that seemed to observe every detail. She was very welcoming with her warm smile and soft voice. I knew immediately that she was a kind and gentle person. I couldn’t explain the sense of security I felt every time she looked towards me.
She was what I remembered my mother was like when I was a child, before politics got in the way of the family. Before the alcohol that slowly consumed my mother and left her a shell. Before everything that distanced our parents from one another and their daughters. Fannie and Jonah Berger were nothing like my parents. They seemed interested in their daughters’ lives based on Jonah’s conversation.
"Is Mark coming for supper tonight, Hannah? The wedding is a couple of weeks away. There is much to plan still," he asked, a blush blossoming across the tall girl’s cheeks.
"No, Father. With the sick mares, he has to work later than he wished to get the field cleared," she replied, her voice somewhat aloof as she spoke to her father, glancing at me briefly before retur
ning her eyes out towards the window once more.
“Abigail, do not stare so,” Fannie admonished quietly when the youngest of the daughters continued to watch me. She blushed and looked down at her lap as her father recited meal prayers, and I found myself copying her movements, only raising my eyes when he had finished.
We were quiet as we ate, Fannie smiling at me and offering more food than I could possibly indulge in, and Emma and Abigail hid their smiles every time I glanced their way. Jonah remained silent for most of the meal, breaking the silence only when he complimented his wife on a good supper. I felt terribly out of place and awkward as I ate, unsure of where to put my hands, whether to eat the leg of chicken I had on my plate with a fork or with my hand, whether to butter my bread with my own knife or use a communal knife that seemed to have disappeared from the butter dish.
When the meal was done, the girls stood to clear away the table, and out of fear I moved to do the same. Fannie stopped me with a smile and a light touch on my shoulder.
"It is your first night with us, Katherine. You can help with the drying of the dishes so you can find your way around the kitchen. Do you like to cook?" she asked as she moved me towards the deep wash sink.
"I do, actually. I don't know if anything I cook will be acceptable though," I murmured nervously. My father had never been very complimentary on my dishes.
She hugged me around the shoulders and handed me a dishtowel.
"Well then, tomorrow you can spend the day with me and I will show you the ways we cook. We will be busy in the next few days, and your able hands will be most welcome. We have a Frolic to prepare for!" she said happily and turned to the dishes, washing and handing them to me as she finished.
"What's a Frolic?" I asked, feeling dumber by the moment.
Emma moved in close and took the dishes from my hand to put them away.
"A Frolic is a social gathering in our community. The men help with a task while we arrange the food. The community comes together for each other when one needs many hands," she explained.
I nodded, thinking carefully of all the Amish references I knew, which sadly were only from movies and television. I remembered one movie my mom had watched when I was young, with a number of men building a barn.
"So like a barn raising?" I suggested, smiling when Emma's eyes lit up.
"Yes! Precisely! Day after next we go to help Elder Wittmer clear his field and mend his fences. The rains and heavy snow last winter caused much damage to his land," she explained.
"And maybe someone will get to speak with young John Wittmer," Hannah teased as she wiped away the remains of supper from the table.
Emma frowned and looked away bashfully at mention of this John Wittmer. Abigail giggled beside Emma and looked up at me with a wide smile on her face as she relayed the story.
“John likes Emma but Emma will not talk with him,” Abigail stated in a shrill voice until she noticed her mother’s pursed lips and shake of her head.
“We do not discuss such things,” Fannie stated and handed me another plate, the matter closed.
Talking about boys was obviously not something they did, and I was sure there was some strict code to dating. I doubted Amish teenagers made out in their buggies. Staying here, trying to blend in was going to be a lot harder than I ever thought. I somehow knew I would offend or embarrass the Bergers or myself every time I opened my mouth. I wasn’t used to their pure ways.
My world was much different than theirs.
We finished with the dishes, and by the time we had wiped down the table and counters, I could feel my eyelids drooping. I doubted it was even past nine in the evening. Jonah came in through the back door and clapped his hands together, startling me back to wakefulness.
"Another beautiful day by God's graces. Let us turn in and get some rest. Early day tomorrow!" Jonah said brightly and ushered us up the stairs.
Emma and Abigail pulled me into the room I was to share with them and began to undress for the night. Abigail was in her small bed before I had even removed one hook to my dress, her eyes already closed. I stalled my hands on my head cover as Emma slipped her own off, revealing her hair to me. Thin and almost black in the dim lighting, her hair was terribly short, with the back much shorter than the sides, as if it didn’t grow at the same rate or had been shaved at some point. I realized I was staring when she turned, dragging her hands up to her head self-consciously. I turned away, feeling awkward at her embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," I stammered.
I felt her hand on my shoulder, turning me softly so that I could look into her penetrating gaze.
"You have no need to be upset, Katherine. I feel so close to you already, I forget you would not know. Come; let us ready for bed and I will answer your questions. It is a bit of a melancholy story to sleep to, but it must be told so you know me," she whispered and turned away to slowly remove the layers of clothing she wore until she was down to her thin cotton shift.
I followed her routine, hanging my clothes on the hook on the wall beside hers. I was learning that observation was my ally in learning to blend in with the Amish. Dressed down to our shifts, we slid into the small bed beside Abigail’s, the weight of us making it creak in defiance. I settled on my side, Emma turned towards me with her hands under her head as if in silent prayer. She closed her eyes, as if collecting her thoughts before she spoke, her voice whisper-soft.
"I was very sick, you see.”
Her eyes opened up but seemed to peer off away from me, unfocused as if to remember her memory better.
“I was always a bit dreamy, often finding myself in trouble with the schoolmistress for not paying attention. But school bored me. I hardly ever paid attention, but still did well. I did not talk much, but when I did it was often rushed and difficult to understand. My thoughts worked faster than my mouth I suppose. Some said I had demons, but it was not witchcraft," she said, her eyes focusing on me pointedly for a moment until I nodded and she continued.
"It was not until the pain and the vision problems that my family understood that there was something truly affecting me. The doctors in our district tried home remedies, but my vision grew cloudier, the dreams more vivid until I thought they had truly happened, and the pain in my head grew worse. It was then that we finally sought an English doctor," she said softly, her eyes closing.
"You guys don't go to our doctors regularly?" I asked, clasping my hand over my mouth at how rude that had sounded from my lips. "I'm sorry."
Emma’s smile seemed to brighten the dim room as she giggled beside me. Abigail mumbled in her bed and we were quiet for a moment before she settled into a steady breath once more fast asleep. Emma let out a soft breath and looked back towards me.
"We do see your doctors. Do not be embarrassed. We keep much of ourselves private. You will see. It is better to handle our issues within the community, but sometimes, like with me, we need Englisher aid," she explained and continued her tale.
"The doctors listened to my ailments and offered a grim prognosis. I had a brain tumor. They used their machines and found it, a slow growing tumor in the top portion of my head. It had spread towards the front over time, which explained the vision loss and dreams.”
"I'm so sorry, Emma," I whispered.
I didn't know why I felt some kinship with this girl, but her family had taken me in, she was telling me a private part of her life. I knew that was special. As reserved as these people were, they had shown me more of themselves than even my neighbors whom I had known all my life. Emma had known me for a couple of hours and already I felt a keen friendship forming. She pushed back the hair that had tumbled across my cheek and smiled.
"I am well now. I had the surgery, and they removed the tumor. You can feel the scar here," she said and lifted her fingers to a small lump I could make out on the top of her head above her ear.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, touching it tenderly with my own fingertip.
"No, not anymore. But that wa
s the easy part. The medicine was the worst of it," she said and grimaced.
"You had chemo?"
It was so strange to think of the Amish undergoing chemotherapy. But here was Emma, with her thin black hair that was obviously just growing back from her recovery. I was discovering that she was not so different from any of my friends back home.
"How long ago was this?" I asked.
"I took the last of the medicine four months ago. My hair just started growing back about a month and a half ago," she murmured and smoothed down her hair self-consciously.
"That must be a relief, though. To have it growing back?" I asked.
She frowned and ran her fingers through her hair repeatedly; in what I was discovering was her nervous tic.
"I only wish it would grow a little faster. I do not look like a woman. I will not gain favorable attention like this," she mumbled, her eyes regretful.
I reached up slowly and touched her hair along the side of her head, feeling how soft it was. I wondered if her words were true. Did the men here look on women with judgment of their beauty and nothing else? I had hoped that was untrue, just something that Sean had always said to berate me when I didn’t look good enough for him. I looked at Emma again, finding she really was pretty, even with the short hair that was perhaps not the Amish style. She looked like she belonged in a trendy club in a busy city.
"I think it's beautiful. And it will grow back," I said, smiling into her timid eyes. "Think of how much cooler it is in this heat right now."
A small grin crept across Emma's face.
"I knew we were meant to be great friends. You see the benefits in what God gives us. Thank you for helping me to see that," she replied and leaned in to offer me a hug.
"Thank you for taking me in. I only hope I don't embarrass you all," I replied, remembering the strange look the man, Nathan, had given me.
"We have a few days to help you with that. And our community is very welcoming. I think you will find you will have many friends here by the end of our Frolic," Emma quipped.
Healing Faith Page 2