by Sarah Price
Even the police were annoyed by the media attention. It was a small town with a limited police force. There was no town ordinance about not parking along the side of the road, so the paparazzi and media were within their legal rights to stay there. Yet it was stretching the small town’s law enforcement resources to have a car at the farm every single day to ensure that no one trespassed.
Other than that, the farm was quiet. For the past weeks, no one had stopped into the farm for visiting. It was too stressful to deal with the photographers and videographers who crowded around the visitors, taking their images. So, besides being quiet, it was lonely. The usual visitors who would stop in to chat with Elias or visit with Lizzie and Amanda were nowhere to be seen. It was just the three of them, day in and day out.
Even Lizzie and Elias were unable to leave the house without cars following them, taking photos and videos of their every move. They limited their own excursions to the market just once a week and would never leave Amanda alone. Even on Church Sunday, they had given up trying to attend the service. The first Sunday when they attended, the media had blocked the driveway, and then they were caught recording the service from a window. The Beilers hadn’t returned since that Sunday.
Amanda tried to ignore the whispers between her mother and father as they discussed how to stop the media from invading their community and private lives. Despite not being included in the conversation, she knew that the discussion focused on Ohio. They whispered that it might be best for Amanda to return there and join her sister, who clearly was not intent on returning to Pennsylvania. Amanda wasn’t happy about the thought of going back to Ohio. After all, it was just going to be more of the same, just at another location.
So, as she stood at the window, it surprised Amanda to see the black-box buggy pull up to her parents’ driveway. “Someone’s here, Mamm,” she called out and moved away from the window. “I can’t see who it is.”
Elias must have heard the buggy’s wheels humming against the driveway for he poked his head out of the barn door. When the buggy pulled to a stop in front of the barn, Elias approached it, wiping his hand on his pants and leaning into the open door. Amanda strained her eyes, trying to see who it was. Her curiosity was piqued. Who would have been brave enough to come to their farm?
And then she saw him.
The bishop emerged from the buggy while Elias tied the horse to a hitching post on the side of the barn. Amanda’s heart fell inside her chest. Clearly, this was no social visit, judging by the way her father’s shoulders slumped as he followed the bishop toward the house.
Lizzie leaned against Amanda, peering over her shoulder. “Well,” she said quietly when she recognized the bishop. “I imagine we shouldn’t be surprised.”
Seconds later, the door opened and the bishop walked inside. He wasn’t a tall man, but his shoulders were wide and his presence filled the room. He removed his hat and nodded toward Lizzie. But his eyes bored into Amanda, a piercing look that didn’t bode well for a pleasant discussion.
“Would you care to sit down?” Lizzie asked. “Have some tea?”
The bishop shook his head. “Nein,” he said, his expression solemn and speaking volumes of what was about to be discussed. “This is not a visit for pleasure, Lizzie.”
The air hung heavy in the room, and no one dared to speak. They stared at the bishop, his hat in his hands and his eyes avoiding contact.
“Then let us get right to business,” Elias said, his voice heavy and sad. “What brings you?”
“It is the people’s concern,” the bishop said, getting right to the point. “The Englische are saying some horrible things about Amanda.”
“What?” Lizzie gasped.
“It’s not true,” Elias said simultaneously.
The bishop held up his hand to silence them. “It is the talk,” he said. He lifted his eyes and stared at Amanda. There was sorrow in his gaze, but he had a duty to his community. “The papers of the Englische say horrible things, Amanda. They say that you have been with this man, this Englischer. The papers say that you have secretly married him.” He paused. “One even claims you are with child and that is why you hide.”
Now it was Amanda’s turn to gasp. “That’s ridiculous!” Her mamm clutched at her chest, and Elias hurried to her, holding her up. Amanda’s eyes were large and frightened. She stared at her parents. “You know that is all lies!”
“I agree,” the bishop said, holding his hand up to stop her and her parents from arguing. “No one in the community doubts you, Amanda. But those lies are fueling the fire of discussion and interest from the Englische.”
Amanda moved over toward the table, her leg stiff but her stance fierce. She glared at the bishop, her eyes angry. “I do not know that man in such a way!”
Elias crossed the room toward his daughter. “I can vouch for my daughter. She is honorable and pure.”
Sighing, the bishop waved his hand once again. “That is not being questioned, Elias. At least not by me. What is being questioned is what to do regarding the lack of peace among the community: the invasion by these people has created a disruptive lack of peace.” He took a deep breath and paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t understand this interest in Amanda. I won’t pretend that I want to even try. But I have spoken to several Mennonites and even Englische men who are more aware of this media craze.”
“What do they say?” Elias asked.
The bishop shook his head. “You won’t like it any more than I do,” he replied. “They don’t think it will stop. They think it will continue. The interest in Amanda is now an interest in the Amish. These Englische cannot get enough of it. If we thought we had too many tourists invading our lives before, it will only get worse. The Englische world is pushing those photographer people for more photos of her. They believe the stories.” He shook his head. “It appears that a new generation is enthralled by this . . . this fantasy,” he added, waving his hand dismissively.
Lizzie was the next to speak. Her voice was tight and strained. But there was power behind it. She spoke with strength. “What would you have us do, Bishop?”
“That is the question,” the bishop said, setting his hat down upon the table and pulling the chair out in order to sit. There was silence in the room as he took his seat and sighed. “I have never been in such a situation before, but I do know that time is not making it any better. As I have learned, the Englische are more interested than ever, and as we all know, it’s disrupting our lives. There are news vans in the towns and photographers at every Amish store, taking pictures of Amish, harassing the tourists. It’s just terrible what is happening.” He took a deep breath and looked first at Lizzie, then at Elias. “The entire community is distraught over this situation, Elias. And the only solution is for Amanda to leave.”
Amanda gasped and leaned against the table, both of her hands upon it. “To go where?”
The bishop looked up, his face expressionless. “Anywhere but here.”
She couldn’t believe that she was hearing this. They wanted her to leave her home and her family? She shook her head. “I won’t go!” She looked at her parents, pleading with her eyes. “I have nowhere to go!”
Lizzie moved over toward her daughter and placed her arm protectively around Amanda’s shoulders. “We have already lost one child,” she said. “You would have us lose another?”
There was a long pause. The bishop avoided Lizzie’s and Amanda’s eyes. It was at that moment that they all knew the decision had already been made. The elders had decided that Amanda must leave in order to preserve the community. “This was not a decision that we came by lightly,” he finally said, glancing at Elias as if seeking support. “But it is clear that we simply cannot continue with such a high level of interest in our community and such interruption of our lives. It is out of hand and far too disruptive.” He shifted his eyes toward Amanda. “Far too worldly.
”
“I don’t believe this,” Amanda said under her breath. She met the bishop’s gaze. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You brought that man into the house,” the bishop snapped, obviously unhappy with her insolence.
“I’m not leaving!”
Elias spoke next, his voice strong and firm. “The bishop has spoken, Amanda. You shall have to leave, even if just for a while.”
Lizzie gasped. “No!” she said and spun around, covering her mouth with her hand and silencing what was clearly sobs at the thought of her daughter being outcast from the community.
“Now, now,” the bishop said, standing back up and moving toward Lizzie. “It’s only until the fervor dies down. The Englische are prone to fancy things for a very limited amount of time.” He looked over his shoulder at Amanda. “Your daughter can return to Ohio for a while, give things time to calm down around here.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” Amanda retorted, too aware that she didn’t want to return to Ohio and too aware that the Englische paparazzi could, and most likely would, follow her there. “Will that solve anything or just relocate it?”
“Amanda!” Elias said, horrified that his daughter had spoken out against the bishop.
“Nee, Daed,” she said, standing as tall as she could on her weak leg. “Mayhaps I am not yet a baptized member of the church, but the community should be supporting me! I did not ask for this to happen!”
“Now, Amanda,” the bishop said, turning toward her, his eyes piercing and dark. “The community did not ask for this, either, and they cannot live with these people . . . these photographers and reporters . . . lurking in their fields and peering into their windows. We have very few options at this point. After all”—he hesitated and leveled his gaze at Elias—“it was not the community who invited the Englischer to stay. I’m afraid the next option would be less pleasant.” The message was clear. Either Amanda left or her parents would be shunned. He looked back at Amanda, leveling his gaze at her with a stern expression on his face. “Would you be so selfish . . . ?”
“Nee!” she shouted, covering her ears with her hands. Had he truly said the word selfish and implied that she was such a vile thing? Did he not understand how much she was suffering? Her heart raced, and her blood boiled. Did he not remember what she had already been through? “Enough!”
Elias took a deep breath and stared at his daughter, clearly feeling the pain that she felt. “Bishop, I will have to ask you to give us some time to consider what you have requested,” he said. “It is time and prayer that will help us understand and interpret the will of God in this matter.”
The bishop grabbed his hat from the table. His hands were large and chapped, red from having worked in the fields for so many years. The wrinkles and dryness spoke of decades of hard labor and, clearly, a lack of understanding when it came to issues of Englische law. “God has already spoken in this matter,” he said sternly. “Be ye of the world, be ye for the world,” he quoted. Putting his hat back on his head, he glared at Elias. “I would think you would know the difference, Elias!” And with that, the bishop stormed out of the kitchen, letting the side door slam shut behind him as he left.
There was a long silence among the three of them as the bishop clambered into his buggy and drove down the lane. Even from the house they could hear the cars that revved their engines and began to follow the bishop’s buggy. The paparazzi were following him now. Later, of course, they would return to stake out the Beiler farm, hoping to snap a coveted photo of Amanda or her parents. But, for now, they were finally alone.
“What do I do, Daed?” Amanda asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
Lizzie didn’t wait for her husband to speak. Her face was pale, and her eyes wide with fright. “You need to contact Alejandro,” she said quickly and firmly. “He created this problem. He needs to fix it!”
“Lizzie!” Elias said sharply. “That is the last thing we need to do! It would only make it worse.”
But Amanda was no longer listening. Instead, she was mulling over her mother’s words in her mind. Could Alejandro fix this? He had, indeed, created the problem. And his involvement was a far more likable solution than being banished to Ohio, she thought. She wasn’t certain how she could do such a thing. Without a telephone, she couldn’t call him, not that she even had his phone number. She didn’t know his address to write to him, either. But she knew that there was only one way to get out of this: through Alejandro.
Chapter Seventeen
Alejandro sat in the armchair, feeling beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was hot under the studio lights, and it didn’t help that he was wearing his typical black suit. Between the high temperature, the humidity outdoors, and the heat inside Studio 1A from the spotlights, there was no escaping the fact that summer in Los Angeles was hot. Unbelievably hot.
It had been a week since he had ventured into the public eye with Maria. A week of paparazzi and questions, crowds and photographs. But still, the emphasis was on Amanda Beiler, the most famous Amish woman in the world. It was frustrating him that he couldn’t distract the media, get them to change course and focus on something else.
The media had barely mentioned his staged encounter with Maria at the club. A few photos made the social media circuit, and he noticed a few comments on Twitter. But an overwhelming majority continued talking about Amanda and the Amish.
Alejandro had tried to step up the distraction. With his encouragement, Maria had staged a catfight with another woman at a club, cleverly timed so that the paparazzi were nearby and it was caught on film. Despite Alejandro swooping in to separate the two women and quickly leaving the building with Maria, there were still more questions about Amanda than about this new, mysterious woman in his life.
Now that he was in Los Angeles again, preparing for his West Coast concert tour, he had insisted that Mike land him a spot on the entertainment news program. One interview, he had insisted. Just one about the music, about Maria, about the tour.
“Come on, Alex,” Mike had whined. “They don’t care about Maria. No one is buying it.” It continued to infuriate Mike that Alejandro wouldn’t seize the opportunity of the fans’ interest in Amanda by playing on it. “You know it, Alex. They just want more of this Amish chick.”
Shaking his head, Alejandro had countered, “It’s the idea of Amanda that they want, simply because she is Amish. I’m not doing it. I’m not exploiting her. We have to give them something else to focus on.”
Mike laughed. “Marry Maria, and that will stop the rumors.”
Alejandro had frowned. While he had known Mike was teasing, the joke stung. “Let’s be serious, Mike. That’s outrageous and not going to happen.” He had tugged at the sleeves of his shirt underneath his suit jacket. “Besides, I’m not the marrying kind.” He had looked up at Mike, raising one eyebrow in a perfect arch. “A married Viper is a career killer, no?”
Now, as he sat in the chair, waiting for his turn to be interviewed by Sue Jarrell, the hostess of the top entertainment show in the country, he only hoped that Mike had made the rules of engagement clear. Alejandro had agreed to the interview as long as the questions focused on his latest album, his tour, and, of course, Maria.
“Two minutes, Viper,” someone whispered.
He nodded his head and tried to put on his game face: black suit, dark sunglasses, and a half smile as he faced the camera. Mysterious and aloof, a look that he had practiced many times in front of a mirror. He noticed a flurry of activity as the chair was prepared for Sue Jarrell. With one minute to go, she hurried over to sit next to him. She was a leggy brunette wearing a cream-colored suit that showed off her West Coast summer tan, one that he imagined she stretched out throughout the year. Her hair hung over her shoulders in a full wave, and she touched it briefly before looking up at him.
“You ready?” She smiled.
“Sí, sí,” he responded.
The cameraman motioned and began counting backward and then, silence. The red light on top of the nearest camera flashed on, and Alejandro knew that they were live. Millions of people were watching him; millions more would watch the YouTube clips over the next few weeks.
“My next guest doesn’t need any introduction. He’s the Master of Hip-Hop and a truly global sensation!” Sue Jarrell said, smiling into the camera. “And we are honored to have him with us today as he is getting ready to start a three-week tour on the West Coast before heading back to the East and then to Latin America.” She shifted her weight in one smooth motion. The camera seemed to follow her every movement. “Viper,” she said, addressing him directly. “Tell us about this latest album of yours.”
Great transition, he thought. “Well, Sue, I want to start by thanking you for having me here today. It’s been a whirlwind of travel since this last album dropped, but the fans have been so responsive. It makes the long days and extensive travel so worthwhile.”
“This album has been holding out at number one for six weeks now,” she said, but it came out more like a question.
“Sí, sí,” he said, nodding his head. “I haven’t ever seen anything like it. The songs were all so special to me, so that response from the public means that much more.”
“You draw on your own experiences for your songs; isn’t that true, Viper?” Sue asked.
“Sí, that’s true,” he said, nodding his head. “These songs are mostly about my experience growing up as a cubano in Miami. It’s not easy to move to America and learn the language, the culture, the people. The streets give you quite an education.” He laughed and added, “Dade County taught me well.”
“I imagine that culture is important to you,” she asked.
“Of course. My family is from Cuba. It’s obviously very different from America. The food, the music, the life,” he said. He was relaxing. The interview was proceeding well. Fans loved hearing about his childhood. “Growing up there was quite hard. Long hours of work, and not a lot of payoff. Putting food on the table was a daily struggle.”