“Madam, I am Deacon King. I would say that I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, but I don’t want to lie. When Mr. Lapp here told you that you needed to leave, he did so for a very good reason. Several, in fact. You came to his and his family’s house uninvited. You asked intrusive questions. And now, you refuse to leave.”
“‘Deacon?’ Does that mean you’re. . . a preacher? Or a priest? Or what?”
“Ma’am, are you a reporter or something?” The deacon had caught on to the woman’s pushiness.
“No, just curious. So?”
“I’m just a man like anyone else here. Gott has lifted me and four other men to be the elders of our community. And now, may I escort you to your vehicle? Let’s go, now. Mr. Lapp would like to break bread with his family and enjoy a quiet summer evening.” The deacon pointed the way to the woman’s red sedan, which sat, driver’s side door open, in front of the Lapp home.
“Before I leave, I just want you to know that this man, his wife and daughter are rude. And yes, I am going to post a blog entry, talking about my disappointment in today’s excursion and my experiences.”
The two men looked at each other in confusion. The deacon mouthed, “What is a ‘blog?’” to Wayne. Finally, he assisted the woman to get into her car and he quickly shut the door. “Have a safe trip!” Returning to Wayne’s side, he spoke. “‘Blog?’ That sounds like something that doesn’t taste very good.”
“Maybe one of our teens knows what that is. Thank you for your help. . . ja, she is leaving.” Wayne huffed out a huge sigh of relief. “Iced tea?”
“Nee, denki. I just wanted to find out how things are going with you now that you are in therapy and able to do some light carpentry work.”
“Gutt, denki! I am actually beginning to earn again. While I can’t operate my saws yet or lift heavy pieces of lumber, I am getting back to what I was doing when I got hurt.”
“And, how is it going with Lizzie? About her working?” The deacon’s look was sharp and searching.
Seeing this, Wayne knew he needed to be up-front. “It hasn’t been easy, but when Lizzie told me that she wants only to be my partner and helpmate, it helped me to understand that, if I didn’t want us to lose everything, I needed to change my thinking.”
“Wayne, what makes it hard?”
Here, Wayne really had to fight to be honest. “My. . . my memories. From when I was a child in my daed’s house.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Hannes King’s expression encouraged Wayne to speak on.
“I remember, as though it were yesterday, the day my mamm left. My daed was hard. . . on her. And us. My sisters, brothers and me. When she left, he turned his physical punishments on all of us. But particularly on my sisters.”
“Wayne, I believe I’ve met a few of them. Are you saying he abused them?”
“Abuse. . .” Wayne struggled to stay in the present. “Uh, ja. And they met and married men just like our daed. Their husbands don’t let them work outside the home. They can’t even bake and sell their goods at market. They can’t quilt and sell to customers.”
“Mmmm, hmmm. I won’t go into what their lives are like. Except to ask you a few questions. When you see them, do they appear to be happy?”
Wayne thought. “. . . I can’t say they do. They put on a happy face. They say that their family lives are going well. But I have spotted black eyes. Bruises on cheeks. And I know that their finances are very tight because they have only their husbands’ incomes to live on.”
“And the kinder?”
Here, Wayne shook his head. He couldn’t believe he had been like his nieces and nephews when he was a child. “They are so quiet. Like fearful little mice.”
“Ja, ja. And are you determined that you are not going to be like your daed or your brothers-in-law?”
“Ja, deacon. I am, but it isn’t easy.”
“Will you consent to joining our peer group? Talking to some of the men and women about what they have learned about equal partnership?”
Wayne thought about it. While he didn’t want to share his innermost feelings and thoughts with others yet, he no longer felt that the group was out to intrude in the private lives of others. “I’m. . . not yet ready to do so. Lizzie and Leora. . . I know they are involved and I know it helps them. But I am not quite there yet.”
The deacon sighed in disappointment. “Well, I understand your feelings. I am disappointed, and would be so happy seeing you taking part in meetings. Will you think about it and try it out some time soon?”
“I. . . maybe. I’d better get inside. Lizzie and Leora probably have supper pretty near ready by now.”
“Okay. If that woman or anyone else comes back, let me know. And please, think about the peer meetings. They have helped other husbands learn to see their wives as true partners. Their marriages are even stronger.”
Something held Wayne back. Something he didn’t want to look too closely at. “I’ll pray about it, deacon. I’ll also talk to Lizzie about it.”
“Gutt! I’ll let you go now.” Waving, Hannes walked out of the yard and toward his own farm.
Wayne walked into the house and smelled roast beef cooking. He closed his eyes and savored the scent. “Wife, that smells so gutt! I’m going to wash my hands and come back down.”
“Okay. It will be ready soon.” Lizzie bent over and checked the doneness of the meat and vegetables. “How is the dessert coming along?”
“I took it out of the oven five minutes ago and it will be cool enough by the time we finish supper.”
“The biscuits will be ready before long. When the timer goes off, take them out, please.” Lizzie swung around and began setting the table.
“Let me. “Wayne took the plates and silverware from Lizzie and began putting them at each place. “Well, Deacon King came down the road and saw that woman trying to get more information out of me. She still refused to leave even when I told her to go. It took the deacon and I to make her leave!”
Lizzie shook her head. “If I had known she would try to satisfy her curiosity like that, I would not have taken the main road coming home.”
Wayne shook his head. “Ja, that might be a thought for tomorrow. I cannot believe her nerve! You know she asked me about our lifestyle. Leora, I don’t know if you know the answer to this. . . but what is a ‘blog?’ It sounds like something that’s not very appetizing to eat.”
Leora started chuckling, then her chuckles became full-on laughter. “Daed, it isn’t a food. A blog is a diary that is kept on the internet. People write down their thoughts, their experiences and they try to expose people to new ways of thinking.” At that last, Leora wished she could take it back. She knew her daed didn’t like to look at new ways of thinking or doing things. “It’s just for the English people, daed. They like to try different things.”
“Hmmm. Hmmm. Ja, apparently. Well, she said she was going to ‘tell the truth’ about our family, how rude we are.”
Leora started laughing again. “Oh, that’s gutt! She was rude in the store and rude here! The timer went off. Grabbing the pot holders, she opened the oven and removed the biscuits. She tested the roast and veggies while the oven was open. “Mamm, it looks like the roast is just about done.”
Lizzie took the fork from Leora and tested the meat. “Ja, maybe another five, ten minutes and I can take it out.”
After supper, Wayne went out to his shop and carefully cleaned the surfaces and, holding his broom against his shoulder, he pushed the sawdust out into the yard. Next, he positioned the dustpan against the wall of the shop and began sweeping the sawdust in it. After tossing all the accumulated sawdust into the 55-gallon trash can, he put his cleaning items away and blew the lantern out, closed and locked the door.
***
For the next few months, things were calm for Wayne and Lizzie. He knew they needed the income she was earning and was grateful for her willingness to step up and help. At night, he saw how tired she was and, as his arm continued growing stronger, he would
help dry dishes or straighten out the house along with her. One night, Wayne was deeply asleep when he began to dream. . .
“Mary, where were you when I came home? The house was empty!”
“Thomas, I was at the market, buying food. The lines were long today and it took longer than. . . ow! Stop hitting. . . ow!”
Thomas, not satisfied with his wife’s answers, kept striking her, ignoring the presence of his children in the house.
Wayne, upstairs with his sisters and brothers, heard the fight as it began and went on. Grabbing the younger ones, he herded them into his and his older brother’s room. Closing the door, he directed the younger children to sit quietly on the bed. All of them winced as they heard the repeated blows. As the younger children tried not to cry, Wayne put his finger against his lips. “Shhh. We don’t want them to hear us.”
“Wayne, mamm is telling the truth. I was with her.” Anna, older than Wayne by four years, had just slipped into the room. “We were at the market and it was packed with community members and even tourists. It was taking a long time for people to pay for their purchases.”
“We can’t tell daed, Anna. He’ll hit us.” This was John, the oldest at seventeen.
“I’m scared!” Five-year-old Hannah sat on the bed, trying not to cry. Unconsciously, she stuffed her fingers in between her legs so she wouldn’t wet her pants.
“Hannah, come with me right now!” Anna lifted her off the bed.
“I don’t want to go out there!”
“Well, you don’t want to wet yourself or the bed, do you?”
It was too late. Everyone heard the sound of liquid tinkling on the floor. Hannah, in her fear and distress, hadn’t been able to hold her bladder until they got to the restroom. Hannah, totally humiliated, began sobbing loudly.
Anna set her down and quietly ran to Hannah’s room for clean underwear and stockings. Along the way, she grabbed an old towel that she wet in the bathroom. “Hannah, did you get your dress or apron?” She checked quickly. “Boys, turn around.” She helped Hannah remove her wet clothing, cleaned her up and helped her to put the clean items on.
It seemed to take a long time for Thomas to exhaust his store of anger against Mary. Soon, no more sounds issued forth from the first floor. Once Thomas slammed the front door, the house was virtually silent.
Wayne woke up, sweating. He hadn’t had that dream in months! Please Gott, don’t let it be starting again! Things have been going so well for Lizzie and me. Getting out of bed, he gazed at Lizzie’s still, sleeping form. Remember Wayne, she has been truthful. She goes to work, takes her paychecks to the bank and comes home. Whenever she’s not at work, she’s here at home. Taking care of the house, as a good wife does. Wayne squeezed his eyes shut and kept reminding himself of these facts. Finally, his heart rate slowed down and he was able to get back into bed. Drawing Lizzie into his side, he allowed her warmth to comfort him. His eyes drifted shut and he slept dreamlessly for the rest of the night.
Lizzie noticed that, at times, Wayne was more quiet than usual. Yet, his mood was still loving, calm and good. She also monitored his progress at physical therapy and as he began to take on more and more of his carpentry tasks again. He was beginning to take on heavier carpentry tasks, although he still had to rely on area carpenters to help him with the heaviest tasks. Moving completed, heavy items was still beyond his physical ability. Vernon and Hannes King, along with other carpenters from Peace Valley, had helped him to move and deliver large items.
She wasn’t aware that Wayne was experiencing dreams and flashbacks from his childhood again. She also didn’t know that he had begun to watch her as she did her work at home. Thus, she was completely unaware that, when she left the house to go to the store, that Wayne had begun to time her. As far as she was concerned, things were still going normally and their marriage was only getting stronger. The only thing that had disappointed her was Wayne’s continuing refusal to go to peer meetings with her. But she had decided to give Wayne room and time to make up his own mind about that. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that she began to feel the change in Wayne’s mood when she left for work or came home.
“Wayne? What’s. . . what’s wrong? You seem angry about something.” Lizzie had just set her things down in the kitchen and was washing her hands before starting supper.
Wayne started. He hadn’t wanted her to see his mood change. “Ahh, nee, it’s nothing, wife. I’m just. . . disappointed in myself. I set a goal for my carpentry and I wasn’t able to meet it.” Wayne’s voice trailed off and he looked away from Lizzie as he told the lie.
Lizzie wasn’t sure she should accept that explanation. Something was wrong. Whatever it was, she could feel it just beyond reach. “Wayne? You know the therapist told you it would take a while. Your arm suffered so much damage.”
“Ja, because I was angry when I was running that lumber through the router. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying atten. . . forget it. I’ll be in the shop, cleaning up.” Wayne waved his hand in irritation at Lizzie and walked out.
Lizzie stared at the back door for several minutes after Wayne had walked out. Her hands bunched and pulled at the dish towel as she tried to figure out what was going on. Nee! His anger feels almost like. . . like what it was when he didn’t want me to go to work! He was lying. I’m sure of it. She started as Leora hurried into the kitchen.
“Mamm? What’s wrong? Your mind is somewhere else.”
Lizzie grabbed Leora’s arm. “Listen. I think your daed is starting to become angry about my working again. I don’t know how to explain it. But when I came in, I noticed he was angry. I asked him and he made the excuse that he was disappointed that he wasn’t able to do something with his work today. He lied.” Lizzie’s voice was quiet enough that only she and Leora could hear what was being said.
“Mamm, we need to get him to come to a peer group meeting. Or he’s going to make it impossible for you to work!” Leora’s voice was a quiet, though panicked murmur.
Lizzie nodded. “I will talk to Linda Yoder after meeting this Sunday. We still need my—our—income. He’s still not back to full strength.” Lizzie looked out the kitchen window. “Daed’s coming back. Start the chicken. Roast it. I’ll work on everything else.” She and Leora split up and, by the time Wayne came into the kitchen, they were both busy working on supper preparations.
“Wife, are you working tomorrow?”
Lizzie’s voice was purposely casual and relaxed. “Ja, I am. Annie has a big sale going so we can move some of the older quilts out. We have more coming in and need the room. Why?”
“I was just wondering. Don’t you need to make anything in preparation for Sunday?”
“I’m starting the preparations for that tonight. I’m making the bread and biscuits. By the time we get cleaned up from supper tomorrow night, I’ll be able to bake everything. Is there anything wrong?”
Wayne could find nothing. Forcing himself to stay relaxed and calm, he shook his head. “Nee. I was just wondering if you would have enough time to get everything done.”
“Wayne. It’ll be like any other Saturday. I’ll be home before mid-afternoon. I know how long it will take to rise the dough and get supper started.”
As the tense conversation went on between her parents, Leora felt the knots of tension slowly tightening her neck, shoulders and back. Finally, she spoke. “Daed? I’d like to invite you to one of our peer group meetings next week. It’s on Tuesday, and it will be at Deacon King’s house.”
Wayne started, then looked at Leora. Her light-green eyes were as clear as the creek running through the community. “I don’t know, daughter. It depends on how much work I’m able to get done.” Wayne didn’t want to go to the meeting. He was convinced that the leaders were indoctrinating the women into wanting to work and defy their husbands.
“Is anyone helping you out with the heavier stuff?”
“Tuesday? Ja, Vernon and his daed. Although I really want to be able to tell everyone that I can handle the
work just fine on my own.”
“Daed, what has your therapist told you?”
Wayne allowed a small smile to escape. “Not to go too fast, to take my time.”
“Daed, you don’t want to have any setbacks. Everyone’s helping you because they want to see you make a full recovery, in Gott’s own time.” Leora’s heart was pounding. She could feel that her daed was struggling to stay calm.
Wayne looked quickly at Leora’s face. He saw only concern etched there. His eyes strayed to Lizzie’s face and eyes. The concern was echoed in her expression. “Ja, I know. I’m just impatient.” He swallowed. “And I still struggle with my beliefs about wives working outside the home.”
Leora seized her chance. “That’s why you need to attend this meeting. Try going to just one meeting. If you like what we talk about, what we discuss, you can decide later on to attend another one.” And then more, until you see what we are talking about with sexism and sex discrimination.
“Just one? You aren’t going to make me commit to attending every one of these meetings?”
“Nee. I know you have a lot of clients, now that your arm is getting better. Not everyone is able to go to every meeting. That’s when members share what went on with those who couldn’t be there.”
“And. . . what, exactly, goes on in these meetings?”
Leora was so caught up in her enthusiasm that she missed the note in Wayne’s voice. “We talk about how some of the women who want to help their families out struggle to get their husbands to agree to let them.”
“Ahh. Well, I guess I can go to one meeting. See what it’s like. But if I get bored. . .”
Leora looked at her daed, seeing his eyes seeming to twinkle. “You won’t be. We talk about traditions and beliefs.”
Wayne’s voice grew stern. “Daughter, I hope your group isn’t trying to assimilate English beliefs in this peer group you’re in. If it is, you’re going to have to leave it.”
Leora’s eyes widened and she glanced at her mamm. “Nee, daed! Never! The elders make sure of that. If we were trying to abandon Amish beliefs and faith, they wouldn’t approve of this group.”
Amish Heart and Soul Page 4