by Gayle Roper
“You’re living upstairs now?” Kristie looked delighted.
When I nodded, she said, “I loved it here. Met my husband through the Zooks. Maybe you’ll get lucky too.”
I smiled politely, thinking of the angry man who drove off this morning.
“Kristie’s an artist,” Esther said. “She helps Mary with her art.”
Mary was an artist? I thought the Amish didn’t take to art. I glanced around the great room at the empty walls. No artwork hung there, only a calendar with nature photos and Scripture verses.
“We’re supposed to go out this morning and take pictures,” Kristie said.
Esther looked concerned.
“Rather, Mary says she likes a scene, and I take the photo. I get the results printed and give them to Mary. She uses them for her painting.”
Esther relaxed a bit. Mary might paint pictures, but at least she wasn’t taking them.
Accommodation. The Ordnung said no photographs; they were graven images. So Kristie took the pictures.
But Mary painted them? How had I seen no sign of this activity when I was here in the summer caring for her? Of course they knew when I was due and could put any incriminating evidence away.
“She’s at our neighbor’s where there was a death,” Esther said. “She said that if you came before she returned, I was to tell you she has a picture for you and could you drive around another day this week? Just a minute while I get the picture.”
Kristie watched Esther hurry upstairs. “I sure wish Mary would use a phone. I can’t even get her to use the one in the shanty down the road.”
“But she paints?” I was still trying to get my mind around the thought of Mary stepping outside the Ordnung. “And John knows?”
“Their bishop knows too, and though he doesn’t really approve, he knows the income has relieved some of the financial burden of Jake’s situation. Less a drain on the district coffers too. I think everyone’s basic policy is don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“But what about the rest of their friends? Do they approve?”
“They don’t know. Their lives don’t take them to art galleries and tourist stores.”
I decided I loved this little quirk in Mary.
Esther came back into the room with a rectangle one foot by three feet.
“May I see?” I was fascinated by this aspect of Mary’s life.
Kristie held up the painting of a serene emerald pasture dotted with wildflowers and backed by a woods in full summer glory. The thing I found fascinating was that a scene which could have been trite was unique, its peaceful mood wrapping me in its comfort.
“Lovely,” I murmured, thinking I could easily stare at this picture for years. “How much?”
I blinked at the figure Kristie named, and she grinned at me.
“People like having the painting of an Amish artist. It frustrates Mary who would rather be known as an artist, not an Amish artist. But as I keep telling her, it’s that adjective that makes her stuff sell so well. She’s one of a kind.”
Kristie handed Esther an envelope. “For Mary. Two of her paintings sold last week, and her quilt print postcards are flying off the racks even at this non-tourist time of year.”
Esther took the envelope, looking uncomfortable.
Kristie turned to me. “Would you mind calling me when Mary decides which day she’d be able to go driving? If she wants to wait until next week, it’s fine with me.”
Kristie and I traded numbers, and she left. Esther and I watched her drive off. I could feel Esther relax as the car disappeared from view.
“What do you think of Mary painting?” I asked.
Esther looked pained. “If we must keep it a secret, doesn’t that mean it’s wrong?”
“But she’s so gifted!”
“Elam says it’s her special God-gift, like cooking is mine.” She walked back to the table and our cold tea. “I guess it’s all right if he says.”
I put fresh water on to heat while Esther sat slumped at the table. We had just taken our first sips of our fresh tea when there was another knock at the door. Esther rose and let Becky and Trevor Stoltzfus in.
Esther’s eyes brightened some when she saw who was visiting. “Can I hold Trevor?” she asked immediately, her arms open and reaching.
Becky nodded as she draped her black shawl over a peg. “I just fed him and he’s asleep.” She passed him to Esther who kissed his wan little cheek.
Becky looked at us grimly. “I had to get out of the house for a few minutes.”
Esther looked at me, and I knew she was thinking about her comment to me about the busybodies.
“That bad?” I asked Becky as I got her a mug from the cupboard.
“They stare,” she said. “I can feel their eyes on me wherever I move. I feel like they’re looking for the scarlet A on my chest.”
I looked at her, amazed that she knew of the Nathaniel Hawthorne classic when she hadn’t known where Texas was. “You read a lot, don’t you, Becky.”
She nodded. “It’s my contact with what I’ve come to think of as the real world.”
I understood exactly what she was saying, but Esther looked shocked.
“Becky, what are you saying?” She looked almost scared.
Becky sat straight and looked at Esther as if she expected a blow. “I’m not staying Plain.”
“Because of Trevor’s father,” Esther whispered. “Oh, Becky, you can’t! He’s meidung.”
“I don’t care,” Becky said. “I love him.”
“But you’ll be under the ban, too.”
Becky shook her head. “I never took my vows. I will be fine. I’ll be an outcast, but not like Samuel. My family will be able to talk with me—if they want to.”
“Are you sure?” Esther’s face was a mask of concern. “You will be giving up everything!”
“No,” Becky said. “I will have Samuel and Herr Gott.”
“It’ll be okay, Esther,” I said, putting a hand on hers and squeezing gently. “Becky’ll be fine. Millions of people are fancy, and we manage. We love and follow God with as much dedication as you do.”
“But the Ordnung,” Esther whispered.
“I will reject the Ordnung,” Becky said. There was about her much the same fear and trembling I imagined infused early Christians who declared their rejection of the Law.
“But I will love Herr Gott with all my heart. And Samuel.”
“Samuel!” Esther had something she could grab onto. “What kind of a man is he that he would break the Ordnung and take you away too!”
“He is a wonderful man, Esther. A kind man. A practical man. I love him with all my heart.” Becky looked intently at Esther. “Certainly you understand that.”
A spasm of pain streaked across Esther’s face. “Did you know I’m leaving here?” she asked.
I looked at her, surprised, my mouth probably hanging open. Esther was such a part of the Zook household that it was hard to imagine the place without her.
“You can’t,” Becky said, distress writ large across her face. “You’re my only friend here.”
“Thank you, but I can’t stay any longer.” Esther stared into her mug, Trevor all but forgotten in her arms. “Mary doesn’t need me now. She’s feeling well and hardly limps unless she’s very tired.” She looked up and tried to be enthusiastic. “I’ve been asked to come and be maud for a family with five children. The mother is having a very difficult pregnancy. It’s a fine opportunity.” She failed miserably.
“Elam,” I said, saying out loud what Esther couldn’t bring herself to say. “You’re leaving because of Elam.”
“Why leave?” Becky asked. “Why not marry him? It’s obvious to anyone who watches that you love him.”
Esther put a hand over her mouth like she was trying to hold the pain inside. Her glorious peat-colored eyes were awash in tears.
Becky looked at me, obviously confused.
“Were you at meeting yesterday?” I asked.
&nb
sp; Becky nodded.
“Did you hear the banns read?”
Becky looked from me to Esther. “But it wasn’t Elam. It was…” Becky paused for a moment and then continued. “I don’t even remember their names.”
“Mary Clare Epp and Young Joe Lapp,” I supplied. “Elam fancies himself in love with Mary Clare.”
“Oh, no!” Becky turned to Esther. “I didn’t know that!”
“It’s all right,” Esther said. “I should be used to it by now.”
Becky looked at Esther with pity. “I don’t know what I’d do if Samuel didn’t love me.”
“You’d leave,” Esther said. “Just like me.”
I studied Esther, her head bent, her kapp covering the shining knot of her glorious hair. “Maybe you ought to bring out some of that competitive spirit I saw the other night when we played Parcheesi. Maybe you need to fight for him as keenly as you fought for that victory.”
“Oh, Rose.” Esther looked appalled and blushed furiously. “That is such a bad way to be! I want to stop acting like that, not act that way more. Besides, I saw Elam’s face when they read the banns.” Her eyes grew cloudy with pain. “I have no chance against sorrow like that.”
I had no response, so I got up and poured us all a fresh cup of tea.
“Is it better to be rejected for a real person like Mary Clare or for no one?” I asked, thinking of Jake.
“What?” Both Esther and Becky looked at me.
“The man who seems to be taking over my heart wants me to go away, but not because he wants someone else. He just doesn’t want me.” Saying the words aloud made me feel hollow inside.
“Is that why you were crying upstairs?” Esther asked.
“You heard me?” I was mortified.
“No. I knew when you came down. Your eyes looked like mine felt.”
“Who is this man?” Becky asked. “I want to tell him a thing or two, right after I finish telling Elam.”
“Becky, you’ll make a feisty fancy lady,” I said with a half-smile, which was all I could manage.
“It’s Jake, isn’t it?” Esther asked.
I shrugged.
Becky looked at me wide-eyed. “But he’s in a wheelchair!”
I bridled. “So what? He’s still wonderful.”
Esther nodded to Becky. “They are easy together, Jake and Rose. They talk and laugh, and Jake is lighter.”
“Jake is not interested,” I said, my voice bleak.
Esther patted my hand in sympathy. “Are you sure?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
We drank our tea, lost in thought.
“You know,” I said after a few minutes. “Here we are, three women, one Amish, one about to be fancy, and one fancy, and we’ve all got the same problem—a man. That must mean something, though I haven’t the vaguest idea what.”
Esther opened her mouth to comment, but the words died when the door opened and Elam walked in.
The three of us stared at him. I’m sure our faces reflected different levels of emotion, everything from anger to loss. He frowned and looked quickly away.
Esther cleared her throat. “I thought you were at the graabhof digging Old Nate’s grave with John and Big Joe Lapp.”
“We finished.” Elam pulled his arms from his jacket and hung it on a peg. “Is there not dinner?”
Esther shook her head. “I didn’t expect you. I thought you would go from the digging to sit with Annie.”
“I stopped there with Father, but they do not need me.”
Esther nodded as she and Elam continued to stare at each other.
“Mom says you’re leaving.” Elam’s expression was almost belligerent.
Esther nodded.
“You can’t leave.”
Esther leaned her head forward expectantly, but he had said all he meant to. “I can’t stay,” she said softly.
“Becky,” I said, getting to my feet. “Why don’t I walk you home?”
Becky blinked, and then nodded. “Good idea.” She turned to Esther and took the baby from her.
Esther broke her stare long enough to kiss Trevor’s little nose and smile a farewell. “Maybe I will see you again,” she whispered. “Before I leave.”
Becky took her shawl from the peg as I ran upstairs to grab my jacket. I had my hand on the doorknob when Esther looked at me in something like panic.
“Don’t go,” she said.
I smiled. “I won’t be long.”
Becky and I walked down the road toward her grandparents’ farm, Hawk loping along beside us. It was a crisp day, bright with sunshine and unseasonably warm.
“I think tomorrow is supposed to be even warmer than today,” I said. “It’ll be nice for the funeral.”
Becky stopped and looked at me, excitement flashing across her face. “I’ve got to tell you what happened. I didn’t want to say in front of Esther because I wasn’t sure how she would feel.”
“You got in touch with Samuel?” I said, grabbing onto the most exciting possibility I could think of.
Becky shook her head. “Don’t I wish. But it’s almost as wonderful.”
I watched a cardinal flash by. “So tell me.”
“Last night after everyone left and Grandmother Annie and I were ready for bed, she came to my room. ‘Tomorrow I want you to move into one of the front rooms,’ she said. ‘You pick the one you and Trevor will like most.’”
I looked at Becky’s glowing face and knew how much this gesture meant to her.
“And,” Becky continued, “she said, ‘Can I hold my great-grandson? My arms have been aching for him.’”
“Oh, Becky!” I hugged the girl, Trevor cuddled between us.
“Grandmother sat on the bed and held him for a long time, talking to him and playing with him. And this morning she held him in her rocking chair downstairs until people started to come.”
She saw the question on my face and answered before I even asked. “She didn’t hold him in front of people because she didn’t want to seem disrespectful to Grandfather Nate.”
I nodded. “That’s very wise of her and understanding of you.”
She shrugged. “Trevor and I moved into the yellow and blue room this morning before anyone came. It is so light and pretty. We love it, don’t we, mein bubbli?”
“Do you have an appointment with the doctor?” I asked, holding my arms out for Trevor. He was so light, so small it scared me.
“Wednesday morning,” Becky assured me. “We already have the taxi reserved.”
Another interesting Amish custom, the taxis. Because they won’t drive but want to go places farther and faster, they rent vehicles and drivers to take them.
“Good girl,” I said. “We need to take care of this little guy.”
We walked past the farm pond where several Canada geese swam gracefully. Suddenly, one goose near the edge of the pond turned bottoms up, its white under rump pointing to the sky as it searched the bottom for food. Hawk barked at it for form’s sake, but he didn’t leave our side.
“You’re a good boy, Hawk,” I said, petting his great head. “It’s not nice to chase the birds.”
“Do you want to come in and see my grandmother?” Becky asked when we reached the Stoltzfus farm. “I think she looks better today.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ll come in. You’ve got lots of company, and I’d feel like an intruder.” I indicated the drive full of buggies.
I also didn’t want to go in and risk being seen and recognized by someone who might be there. Several Amishmen served in the Hand in Hand Fire Company here in Bird-in-Hand, and with my luck, one of them would be here.
“But I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I’ll watch Trevor for you tomorrow if you’d like. That way you can be with your grandmother and help hostess the post-funeral meal.”
“Don’t you have to go to work?”
“I’m on a vacation of sorts,” I said.
She hesitated, and then nodded. “I’ll bring him do
wn early. Is that all right? And I’ll bring bottles and my milk.”
I nodded and walked slowly back home, Hawk still my companion. He and I watched a Red-tailed Hawk wheel and float on the air currents, then dive suddenly after a poor sparrow that was innocently flying toward a tree. A large horde of a hundred or so seagulls squawked and complained as they waddled over a field looking for fallen kernels of corn.
Lord, I love it here. I thank You for this beauty, this peace, and for these people. Be with Peter Hostetter and comfort him. Be with Annie Stoltzfus too. Help Jake find peace in You. Help him understand Your grace and forgiveness. And help me sort through my feelings for him and his for me—that is, if he has any for me.
I came downstairs for supper just in time to overhear Jake talking to Mary.
“Mom, I have to apologize for my attitude this morning.” He sounded genuinely repentant. “I was upset about something that had nothing to do with you, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Hesitating in the doorway, I studied his broad shoulders, his wonderful dark hair, his strong arms. I knew his black eyes would be looking at Mary with a sincerity that would make her mother’s heart melt. It’d make mine melt too.
Mary looked at her son, imprisoned in a chair he hated, forced to live a life he would never have chosen. I could feel her pain for him from across the room.
“Thank you, Chake.” She touched his cheek with uncharacteristic emotion. “I understand.”
He gave a half smile. “I know you do, but that doesn’t make me any less wrong.” He paused for a beat and then said, “Right, Rose?”
I hadn’t realized he even knew I was in the room. “Right,” I said softly, proud of him for seeking her out.
He turned toward me. “Now I need to talk with you a minute.”
“Sure,” I said, hoping my eyes didn’t reveal quite how much those words meant to me. After this morning’s parting, I hadn’t been sure he’d ever want to talk again.
“Come into my living room,” he said. He smiled over his shoulder at his mother who was trying not to appear too interested. “How much time until supper?”
“Fifteen to twenty minutes.”
“Time enough,” he said.
I followed him into his apartment. His living room was clutter-free, the center of the room open to allow the chair easy movement. A deep navy leather sofa rested against one wall, a glider/rocker at right angles to it. A TV sat across the room from the furniture. A desk and bookcase filled the wall under one window, his school texts piled beside a notebook and a laptop computer. A set of free weights filled a corner and a large machine that exercised his legs for him filled another. There was no rug, and his chair glided easily to the sofa.