The Shunning

by Beverly Lewis

  “I’m living the Plain life best as I can—” Katie stopped herself before adding “without Dan.”

  “You’re angry, though.” Again, Mary seemed able to read her heart. “You don’t really like being Amish, but you’re stuck.”

  “I never said such a thing!” Forgetting the lateness of the hour, Katie raised her voice, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Surely Rachel Stoltzfus would come running now, wondering what on earth was so important as to be discussing it in the middle of the night. Katie waited, listening. . . .

  When no sounds of footsteps were heard in the hallway, she relaxed. “To be honest, it’s no fun wearing these long, heavy dresses and dull colors,” she admitted. “But that’s nothing new—you always knew that about me.”

  “Jah, but you should be clean past that by now, Katie. You should be moving on to higher ground. How can you be a good Mam to the bishop’s children if you can’t control yourself—can’t submit to the rules of the church?”

  Mary had a point, but Katie didn’t want to hear it. “Well, then, so you’re saying I shouldn’t marry the bishop—that it’s not fitting or right?” The words tumbled out, echoing her own doubts.

  “You’re a baptized member of the church, Katie. That makes you eligible for a church wedding to any man—bishop, preacher, deacon, whoever.”

  Katie pressed harder, needing a straight answer from her best friend. “You’d say that—knowing what you know about me? Am I respected enough among the People, do you think?”

  “ ‘The Lord God exalts those who humble themselves,’ ” she quoted. “It’s not your doing, Katie. Things are ordered by Providence— ordained by God.”

  So that was that. Mary honestly thought Katie had been chosen by God to be the bishop’s wife. Katie stood up and tied on her black bonnet, then pulled her shawl around her shoulders.

  “Just remember,” Mary said, looking solemn, “you can tell me anything. Isn’t that what best friends are for?”

  “Yes . . . and I’m real glad for that.” Katie walked toward the bedroom door and turned to regard Mary with a helpless shrug. “So will you pray that I’ll quit being so hardheaded? That I won’t always be tempted so?”

  “Temptation is not the sin. Yielding to it is.” Mary jumped up to give her a hug. “Remember, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers.”’

  Katie smiled, agreeing with her friend. “I’ll make peace with Dat first thing tomorrow. I’ll catch him before milking and confess—make things right between us. I’ll tell him I’m sorry about the music, and that I’ll never sing or hum anything but the Ausbund for the rest of my born days.”

  “Des gut,” Mary nodded briskly. “And after chores, Mamma and I and a bunch of the cousins will come over and help scrub down your walls and paint, too—for the wedding.”

  Katie left the Stoltzfus house with Mary’s wise words ringing in her ears: He that umbleth himself shall be exalted. She was deep in thought all the way up Hickory Lane—so deep that she scarcely noticed the long black limousine that slowed, then passed on the opposite side of the road.

  Eight

  Eager to speak with her father, Katie rushed to the barn the next morning. Eli and Benjamin were prepping the herd for the morning milking, but Dat was nowhere to be seen.

  “He’s out runnin’ an errand,” Eli replied nonchalantly when she asked.

  “This early?”

  “He left about four-thirty,” Benjamin volunteered. “I heard him out hitchin’ up Daisy before we ever got up.”

  Katie went about her chores without saying more. She fed the chickens and pitched hay to the draft horses and her pony, Satin Boy, then to Zeke and Molasses—the older driving horses—and last, to the mules, wondering if her father was, even now, reporting her wayward behavior to Bishop John.

  I should have talked with Dat last night—even if I’d had to wake him! she thought. Groaning inwardly, Katie headed for the milk house.

  Ben was leaning over to get some fresh, raw milk from the Sput-nick, a small stainless-steel mobile contraption used instead of milk cans to take milk from the cow to the large refrigerated bulk tank, its power supply coming from a unique twelve-volt motor attached to a battery. Ben had always liked the taste of raw milk. “Has a fresh, green taste about it,” he’d often said, gulping down a dipperful.

  Katie filled three large bowls for the barn cats, wishing she had the nerve to take the market wagon or sleigh and ride over to the bishop’s place. As embarrassing as it seemed, there still might be time to prove her sorrow and repentance. The whole disturbing episode could then be dropped, and life could go on as planned. Wouldn’t be the first time an errant soul had found forgiveness in the privacy of someone’s barn.

  “When did Dat say he was coming back?” she asked timidly, not wanting Ben to guess how worried she really was.

  “He didn’t say.”

  “So then you really don’t know where he went?”

  Ben stood up and narrowed his gaze. “If it’s what you’re thinking, jah, I do believe he went to talk to Bishop John. Dat sticks by his word, ya know.”

  Katie stiffened. Her brother was telling the truth. Not once had she known their father to back down on something he said he would do.

  “If only I hadn’t been so stubborn,” she muttered to herself.

  “Jah, awful stubborn ya were, Katie . . . terrible stubborn.”

  Deliberately, she turned away and clumped outside through the dirty snow toward the house.

  ————

  Down the main road, familiar road signs dotted the snowy landscape, directing visitors and tourists to the Hickory Hollow General Store. Levi, seeing that he was one of the first customers of the day, pulled on the reins, urging Dumplin’, his tan pony, into the wide parking lot. Only seven or eight enclosed gray buggies were here ahead of him. But his sleigh was the only one of the kind in sight. He tied Dumplin’ to the hitching post and hurried inside.

  The faint smell of peppermint greeted his nose, and he spied the jar of green-and-white striped candy sticks near the cash register.

  “Mornin’ to ya, Levi,” called Preacher Yoder, the silver-haired man who owned and operated the small Amish store. “Let me know if you need help finding anything, ya hear?”

  Levi waved and nodded silently, his usual greeting. Grown folks used up way too many words, he’d always thought.

  He wandered over to the glass display case where spools of white, black, and several colors of thread were stored under the old wood-paneled counter top. He stood there a moment surveying the sewing supplies, then pulled out a tightly folded list his older sister had written down.

  “Don’t forget to bring back everything—and I mean everything— on this list,” Nancy had admonished him before sending her brother out into the cold. “And whatever you do, please don’t dawdle . . . or we’ll be late for school.”

  Nancy doesn’t wanna be late, he thought. But I wouldn’t mind it one bit. He chuckled under his breath.

  Truth be told, he liked school well enough; he made good marks in penmanship and arithmetic. But today he had more important things on his mind—like that Englisher with red hair—the one who’d come to the front door yesterday, asking for directions. He secretly hoped the stranger-lady might still be riding around lost on some back road in her long black car with those shiny bumpers. That way, maybe somebody else in Hickory Hollow would lay eyes on her and that fancy car of hers. Then Daed would have to believe his story.

  Levi unfolded the piece of paper, placed it on the counter, and smoothed out the wrinkles as best he could. Without speaking, he made a mental note of each of the desired items—two spools of black thread, four of white, a silver thimble, and five yards of white Swiss organdy. Nancy was making new head coverings for herself and Susie. Brand-new capes and aprons, too.

  All’s because we’re gettin’ a new Mam, he thought to himself. He was mighty glad the Lord God hadn’t made him a girl. Such fussy things as aprons and capes! And always that clean whi
te color till a girl turned thirteen. Give him an old pair of “broadfall” trousers—broke in good—and he was happy.

  When Preacher Yoder came over to help, Levi simply handed him the list and pointed. He wasn’t one to speak much to people outside his own family. And Katie Lapp would be no different, he decided while the preacher filled his order.

  “Shall I bill it to your Pop?” Preacher asked with a smile.

  Levi nodded and accepted the sack of sewing supplies, careful to hold it out a ways—not too close. Now if that bag had held a fistful of peppermint sticks like the ones over on the counter, he’d have grabbed it right up next to him. Just so’s he could snitch one or two of the delicious mints out of the sack on his way down the narrow grocery aisle.

  He breathed in the soft, minty smell one last time before reaching for the knob on the jingle-jangle door.

  From the corner of the store, someone with a raspy voice spoke to him. “Well, hullo there, little Levi.”

  He turned to see who was calling him “little.” Because he was no such thing!

  “Come on over here,” Ella Mae Zook said, motioning to him as she sat at a square wooden table, having a cup of hot chocolate. “I could use some company.” She smiled and her deep dimples danced for him.

  Levi realized with a jolt that not only was the Wise Woman right here in the general store, but Mattie Beiler, his aunt, was with her— over at the sewing counter, picking out dress material. His mamma, before she died, had told him all about his aunt Mattie and how she’d helped bring him into the world. It hadn’t been an easy birth, but he’d finally come, all blue and barely breathing. Mattie had saved his life eight years ago, and to Levi, who believed himself to be near half grown, that was a good long time past.

  Ella Mae pulled out a chair for him, and he slid onto it. He couldn’t honestly remember ever being this close to the woman whose daughter had saved his life. People said things about Ella Mae, called her “wise” and other such grand things. But now, looking up into her wrinkled face, Levi couldn’t see anything too awful special about her. Except maybe for the way her kinda goldish eyes—like the barn cat’s—seemed to look straight through somebody—deep into your heart somehow.

  To his surprise, she ordered and paid for another cup of cocoa without even asking if he wanted any, then settled back to enjoy her warm drink. “Guess you ain’t all that little now that I see ya up close,” she said, squinting her eyes a bit.

  Levi only smiled.

  “Ah . . .” She put her hand on her heart. “That smile of yours reminds me of your dear mamma. And ya know something else?”

  Levi shook his head.

  “I think you got more than just her smile.” The old woman took a sip of cocoa, not explaining herself, which made Levi a bit jumpy, wondering what on earth she was talking about.

  Well, he had to know. “What do I got that’s like my mamma?” He leaned forward, his elbows on the old table, his ears wide open.

  Ella Mae straightened up, and her wrinkly face broke into a broad smile. “Curiosity . . . that’s what. You’re interested in people—think long and hard about ’em, now don’tcha?”

  Levi blinked. Did she know, could she tell, that he’d been thinking about someone? Could she tell that he’d been thinking long and hard, so hard that his head felt stiff from the notions a-stirring around in his brain—about that stranger-lady with hair as red as Katie’s?

  “I . . . I guess so,” he stammered. “Jah, I’m curious sometimes.”

  She nodded slowly, then picked up her cup and saucer, letting the steam rise to fog her spectacles. She was silent for such a long time that Levi began to think Ella Mae had forgotten all about him. He sat back in his chair and stared at the glass jar of unclaimed peppermints on the counter across the wooden floor. His mouth watered just thinking about them.

  “It’s mighty gut to be interested,” Ella Mae spoke up out of the blue. “It shows you’re thinkin’ . . . just don’t go and think too hard. Save your brain for schoolwork.”

  He thought she might tell him to drink his cocoa right down and run along. But when she didn’t, he figured it was the same as asking him to tell her what was on his mind—that curious question he’d been pondering on. “Where do you think . . . I mean, uh, where do family looks come from—like hair and eyes, ya know?”

  Ella Mae slid her cup and saucer away and studied him thoughtfully before she spoke. “Parents have physical traits that get passed down to their children—just like your blond hair came from your mamma and the point of your chin from your Daed.”

  He sat up straighter. “And I’m tall like him, jah?”

  “That you are.”

  Levi glanced around because what he was about to say was for Ella Mae’s ears only. “Can ya keep a secret?” he whispered.

  “Do you trust me, Levi Beiler?” she replied, looking him square in the face.

  Studying her for a moment, Levi remembered all the things he’d heard about the little old lady sitting across the table. Hickory John and Nancy had both looked her up several times after their mamma died. And Levi wasn’t exactly sure, but he thought even his own Daed, the bishop, had come to see the Wise Woman secretly—when his heart was near breaking in two.

  Once, Nancy had said right out loud at supper that Ella Mae Zook seemed to listen like she believed every last word you told her. Never handed out a bunch of shoulds and shouldn’ts neither. Just let a body settle for himself what he ought to do.

  So, Levi decided, if they—and most everyone else he knew in Hickory Hollow—had told Ella Mae their secrets at one time or another, why shouldn’t he tell her just one of his own?

  He drank his cocoa half down, then set the cup on the saucer with a clink. “I was just wonderin’,” he said softly. “Who do ya think Katie Lapp gets her red hair from?”

  Ella Mae didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the question. “Oh, probably from a relative somewheres down the line.”

  Levi scratched his head, puzzled. “Wait now, you’re related to Katie and she doesn’t look nothin’ like you.”

  Ella Mae smiled. “Every now and again, God gives us a wonderful-gut surprise.”

  “Like red hair?” He sighed, thinking about the stranger-lady.

  “Like shiny black cars stretched out longer’n three fence posts?”

  Ella Mae jerked her head back a bit, her eyes wide with surprise. “Where on earth didja ever see a car that long?”

  Levi felt his mouth go dry. Did he dare mention the English stranger and the flashy automobile parked and waiting on the road?“I . . . uh, I saw it yesterday after school . . . right in front of our house.”

  The whole secret was out now. What would the Wise Woman say? Levi stared at her, trying to read what was behind those know-everything eyes. Would she believe him—the way Nancy said she always did? Or would she brush him off like Daed had last night?

  Her words came slowly at first. “About that car . . . was a man in a black uniform driving it?”

  “Jah.”

  “And was there a woman all decked out in a white fur coat?”

  Levi accidentally let go of his sack. Spools of thread flew all over the place, and he went running, chasing them across the floor. He stuffed Nancy’s sewing supplies back into the sack and sat down at the table again, blinking his eyes to beat the band. “A white fur coat, ya said?” He leaned so close he could smell Ella Mae’s chocolaty breath.

  “Then you musta seen the Englishers, too.”

  She nodded.

  “Ya did? You seen ’em?”

  Ella Mae frowned and opened her mouth to say something else. But Levi interrupted before she could get a word out.

  “Didja get a good look at ’em?”

  “I saw ’em. Both of ’em.”

  Levi kept his voice low, but he was about to bust wide open! “Didn’t that lady have the reddest hair you ever seen?” He didn’t wait for Ella Mae’s reply but asked another question. “Where’d you see ’em?”

&n
bsp; “Out front, parked in front of our house—like they was lost for sure.”

  “So then, they was still lost after sundown?” The thought excited him. “Do you think they’re still ’round here somewheres?”

  Ella Mae’s worry lines deepened. Then, in the very next minute, a funny little smile played across her lips.

  Levi couldn’t help but grin. She’d seen right through him. “I just wanna have another look at that long black machine,” he admitted before she could point it out, “that’s all.”

  “Levi Beiler,” she scolded softly. “I do believe ya best be runnin’ along to school now.”

  He scooted his chair back. The Wise Woman of Hickory Hollow had witnessed the exact same thing he had yesterday. She’d just told him so. Now Daed would have to believe him—for sure and for certain.

  ————

  “Ach, I left my basket on the counter,” Mattie told her mother outside the General Store as they were leaving close to thirty minutes later, and she handed her the reins.

  “Now you hurry back, ya hear?” Ella Mae called from her warm nest of woolen lap robes in the front seat of the buggy.

  Moments later, a shiny limousine pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop in front of Preacher Yoder’s store.

  Ella Mae gave the English couple a quick, astonished look; so as not to stare, she looked away. But it wasn’t any time a’tall before she heard the sound of feet crunching in the snow and someone approaching the buggy.

  “Please, excuse me.”

  Ella Mae looked up into the face of the woman she’d seen last night—the one with the burnt red hair.

  “I am very sorry to intrude,” the woman said, “but I’ve been trying to locate someone. Perhaps you can help?”

  Ella Mae sniffed. She knew that scent. Lavender—sweet and delicate. “Who would you be looking for?” she asked, taking note of the woman’s fur coat and leather gloves.

  “I wonder . . . would you happen to know of an Amish woman named Rebecca living in this area?” the soft voice came again.