An Amish Honor

by J. E. B. Spredemann

  At the sound of his approach, a few of his brothers emerged from the pond.

  “Well, well, well. Look who’s graced us with his presence.” Dan swaggered toward him and bowed at the waist. He’d obviously been drinking. “Your majesty.”

  “It’s a gut thing he showed up after the girls left.” Simeon said.

  Ash nudged him in the side. “Shut up, you dummkopp. You know he’s going to go back and tattle to Dat.”

  Girls? “Were they Englisch or Amish?”

  Simeon smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “We’re not telling you anything. Chances are, you’re already planning what you’re going to tell Dat,” Levi’s eyes glowed hot.

  Joseph huffed. “What are you doing out here? Dat sent you to work with the horses.”

  Simeon pointed to their buggies, where the horses were still hitched up. “See? We’re working with the horses.”

  Joseph shook his head in disapproval. Who knew how long the poor horses had been standing there hitched up to the buggies. They could have at least freed them and led them to the water for a drink and let them graze on the nearby grass.

  “I don’t think that’s what Dat meant.” Joseph frowned.

  “Oh, so you think you know better than us, huh?” Zeb frowned. “The only thing you know how to do better is snitch.”

  “There’s only one way to deal with a snitch.” Levi came near enough to greet him with a holy kiss. He pushed him instead.

  Like lightening, fear bolted through Joseph’s veins. Surely they wouldn’t do their own sibling harm. Maybe he should get going now before they became any more riled up. It seemed like he could never do anything right in his brothers’ eyes.

  Before he knew it, he was encircled.

  “Hey, let’s make Joseph’s dreams come true.” Simeon mocked and bowed down to him. Each of his other brothers followed suit, but it didn’t end there.

  Maybe sharing his dream with Dat in their presence hadn’t been the best idea. Joseph held his breath as his brothers took turns unleashing their fury on him. He attempted to block some of the punches, but it seemed futile. He endured blow after blow until he could no longer stand on his feet. It would be a miracle if he survived their wrath.

  Pain shot through him, but he was suddenly unaware of what was taking place. Had he blacked out? Was he lying on his back? Something warm trickled from his mouth. He heard muffled voices.

  “Let’s drive him down to the bridge and throw him into the river.”

  The river? His heart raced but he couldn’t move. Someone grasped his arms and his ankles and he knew he was being moved, but his eyes remained shut.

  “Nee, not the river.” Was that Judah’s voice or Reuben’s? He couldn’t decipher.

  But it didn’t matter now. All he wanted to do at this moment—all he could do—was succumb to the delicious pull of sleep that would make him forget this day. Surely, it had all only been a bad dream.

  Jah, a nightmare. That’s what it was for sure and certain.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Judah stood by, gritting his teeth as one by one his brothers recounted their rehearsed story with the officers. By the officers’ tone, foul play was not suspected—unless they were experts in masking their emotions, which they very well might be.

  God, I know we did Joseph wrong. I wish I could go back and handle things differently, but it’s too late now. Please be with him and protect him. He felt foolish offering a prayer to a God he’d ignored most of his life.

  “Jah, our brother dropped off our lunch and then he left on his horse. That was the last we saw of him.” Judah overheard Simeon’s convincing voice.

  Their alibi was simple and pretty much fool proof. Unless one of them squealed, which wouldn’t happen since they all had a stake in this, the officers wouldn’t suspect a thing. And if they did, they wouldn’t find anything. His brothers had made sure of that.

  They’d returned home in the evening, like they did every day. Dat had asked about Joseph and they all recounted the same story—the one Simeon was currently reciting. Dat immediately called the police, not even bothering to ask the bishop or any of the other leaders for permission.

  “Did you contact your neighbors? Is it possible he might just be at a friend’s house?” An officer asked Dat.

  “My sons have been to every house in our district. No one has seen or heard from him.”

  Fortunately, Dat hadn’t suspected anything.

  A fuzzy voice came through the officer’s radio, and he spoke into it. Judah didn’t understand the cop lingo as their communication continued.

  The officer stuck the radio back into his belt and looked at Dat. “His horse has been found.”

  “His horse? What about Joseph? Where’s my Joseph?” Dat’s shaking hands splayed in front of him.

  “I’m sorry, sir. There’s no sign of your son. He seems to have just disappeared.” The officer frowned.

  His father’s chin wavered. “Disappeared? No, it can’t be so.”

  “Could he have run away? Maybe he went off and did the rumspringa thing.”

  “Never! My Joseph would never run away! He’d never leave his family,” Dat insisted.

  The officer’s doubtful look didn’t help. “Did he have any enemies?”

  “Nee. He was a gut boy. My Joseph is a gut boy. The best.”

  The officer blew out a breath and nodded. “It seems like we’ve exhausted our resources. We can put out an APB for a missing persons report. I’ll need a photo of your son.”

  Dat shook his head. “We have no photos.”

  “Not even one?”

  “Nee. Amish don’t keep graven images.”

  The officer frowned and Judah stepped forward. “Officer, our Amish group doesn’t approve of photographs of our people. We do not take them.”

  “Well, I’m afraid that without a photograph, a missing persons report would pretty much be useless.” The officer sighed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Judah spotted Benjamin running toward their father. He stepped in front of him. “Whoa, there. Wait a minute. You can’t go over there. Dat’s talking to the police.”

  Benjamin’s eyes widened as he looked at the officers then back to Judah. “Where’s Joey? Did they find Joey?”

  “Nee. Nobody knows where he is.”

  “I want him to come back. I want Joey to come back!”

  “Shh…don’t make a ruckus. This is serious business.”

  “But I miss my brother.” Benjamin suddenly threw his arms around Judah’s waist and cried into his shirt.

  Judah patted his shoulder awkwardly. “It’s okay. Gott knows where he is.” Guilt began seeping in.

  “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  “I don’t know, Benjamin. The officer said they found his horse.”

  “Freckles? Where is she?” He peered around him at the livestock barn.

  “She’s not here yet.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know.” He held his youngest brother at arm’s length. “Listen, I need you to go back inside with Dinah. She probably needs your help right now. Why don’t you ask her to bring out some drinks for the officers?”

  Benjamin nodded, seemingly appeased, and followed Judah’s orders.

  An hour and a half later, their family sat down to the quietest meal he ever remembered. Only now, he wished Joseph had been there to regale their father with one of his crazy dreams. But he knew that wouldn’t ever happen again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Joseph’s eyelids attempted to lift open under the intense pressure, but failed. His face must be beyond recognition by the way it felt. A stench rose to his nostrils and caused his stomach to roil. He did his best not to inhale the nasty odor assaulting his senses.

  Where am I?

  Suddenly a loud beeping noise, like a large commercial vehicle backing up, pierced his ears. In a matter of minutes, he heard a loud tumbling sound, then a crash, and felt heaviness cover
him.

  He breathed as well as he could with his brother’s handkerchief tightened around his mouth. He tried to break free of whatever bound his hands behind his back.

  His eyes succeeded in prying open this time, though dull pain accompanied his effort. Darkness surrounded him. His hands brushed against something smooth. Plastic? I’m inside a plastic bag. A garbage bag?

  Had his brothers thought they’d killed him? It would seem so.

  The beeping sound came again, and along with it, more heaviness pressed in on him. Then it hit him. I must be inside a garbage truck! He wasn’t entirely sure how the trash collection process worked, but he was pretty certain that at one point the garbage was crushed beyond recognition.

  He attempted to holler, but with the gag around his mouth, his efforts were muffled at best. Completely fruitless. He did his best to not succumb to the fear that threatened to overtake him.

  God, please get me out of here.

  Because if he didn’t get out of here soon, he was quite certain that his older brothers’ wishes—for him to be dead—would become a reality.

  ~

  Joseph awakened and realized he was still inside the plastic bag. Praise God for the small air hole at the top. He surely would have suffocated without it. The humidity inside the bag, along with the stench of refuse and lack of fresh air, made it difficult to breathe.

  He squirmed and attempted another muffled holler.

  Had he heard voices? He strained to listen.

  “There. Again. Did you see it?” A male voice said.

  “Where?” Another voice asked.

  “That black trash bag. It moved. I think there’s something in there. Alive.”

  The voices sounded like they were getting closer. Were they talking about him? Please, God. Help me.

  “A dog?”

  “I don’t know. Never can tell in this day and age.”

  Joseph attempted to kick and thrash about. Perhaps if he made enough racket, they’d turn their attention toward him, if it wasn’t already.

  “Well, I ain’t touchin’ it to find out.”

  Joseph felt something poking his side and he squirmed, attempting to call out.

  “Did you hear that? I heard something. I think there’s a person inside.”

  Blessedly, light came pouring through as a man with gloved hands pulled the bag open.

  “Oh, my!” The man said. “Are you okay?”

  Joseph nodded. The motion increased the pounding in his head.

  The man quickly removed the gag from his mouth.

  Joseph took in a large gulp of air, not minding the smell of refuse now in the least. He was just thankful to be alive. “Thank you, God!”

  The man pulled out a pocket knife and cut the duct tape that had bound his hands and feet.

  Joseph had never felt such freedom, despite the fact he was sitting in the midst of a dump, conversing with total strangers. It was funny how complete strangers treated him with more kindness than his own half-brothers.

  “Were you in a bar fight or what?” The other guy asked. “You reek of alcohol. And you don’t even look old enough to drink.” The man chuckled to himself. “Never stopped me either.”

  His brothers’ doing, no doubt.

  “Nee.” He wouldn’t admit that it was his brothers who had instigated his ill fate. “I’ve never drank alcohol.”

  The man eyed him doubtfully. “Yeah. And my name is Santy Claus.”

  “We’ll help you out.” The other guy—the one that had rescued him—said. He stared at his clothes. “Are you…Amish?”

  “Used to be.” There was no way he was going back. Not with his brothers out to kill him. He’d rather just let them think they’d accomplished their goal. “Not anymore.”

  “Do you need a doctor? You look pretty bad.”

  He probably did. Need a doctor, that is. And if he appeared half as bad as he felt, he most likely looked like he’d been run over by a semi-truck. “I’ll be all right. Besides, I don’t have any money.”

  “That’s a bummer, man.” The one guy said.

  “Where will you stay with no money?”

  He hadn’t thought that far. At this point, he was just happy to still be breathing. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, I can give you a ride to the shelter, if you’d like. At least you’ll be able to get a meal and a place to spend the night. Probably a hot shower too.”

  “Denki. I mean, uh, thank you. I appreciate that.” A hot shower sounded so good right now. He could imagine the water beating down on him, massaging his aches and pains. It seemed like Paradise. They didn’t have a shower at home, but he’d once used one when they’d stayed at a motel on vacation.

  “Not a problem.” The guy stuck out his hand. “My name’s Steve Maddrey.”

  Joseph shook his hand. “Jo- uh, Jonah. Jonah Miller…ton.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jonah Millerton.”

  “I’m Frank,” the other guy said with a shrug.

  Joseph nodded. “Thanks again for rescuing me. I probably would have died if you two hadn’t come along.”

  “I’m just glad we could help,” Steve said. “My truck’s over in the lot. Frank, why don’t you stay here and explain my absence to the boss when he comes by?”

  Frank grunted, nodding grudgingly.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Joseph sat at a table across from a man in his mid-fifties, he guessed. It seemed like he’d sent God a thousand ‘thank yous’ since being rescued from the dump. Now, as the steam from a bowl of hot soup rose to his nostrils, he thanked Der Herr once again for His provision.

  Jonah eyed the man across from him wondering what his story was.

  “I’m Robert Penning, a volunteer here at the Rescue Mission.” His brow furrowed as he looked Joseph over.

  “I’m uh…Jonah.” He set his spoon down.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jonah.” He offered his hand. “Do you have anyone you’d like to contact?

  He thought of his father. Oh, how he wished he could contact him just to let him know he was all right. But if he did, his brothers would know that they hadn’t succeeded in getting rid of him. Dat would punish them for what they’d done and they’d hate him even more. Next time, he wouldn’t be able to escape his brothers’ wrath. And there would be a next time if they knew he’d survived. It was probably wiser just to lay low.

  “No,” he said with regret.

  “Okay. Maybe you should have a doctor look you over.”

  “That’s not necessary. I don’t think anything is broken. I just look and feel terrible.” Besides, he had no money.

  “Are you sure? We do have a nurse that could do a basic exam. For free.”

  “I’m fine. Really. I’m sure I just need a bath and some rest.”

  Robert nodded. “Well, I’ll let you finish your meal. Have you been shown where the showers are? Did they assign you a bed already?”

  “Yes. Thank you for your kindness to me.” Why were total strangers treating him as though he were worth a million dollars when his brothers couldn’t even stand to be around him? At least Dat had always made him feel special.

  “I’ll come and talk to you again later after you get settled in, if that’s all right with you.” Robert stood from the table.

  “I would like that.”

  “Oh yeah. I wanted to mention that we also have a thrift store connected to this building. The items are previously owned, but they are clean. Clothing is free for the residents. If you’re in need of some clothes, I’m sure we could find something for you.”

  Joseph nodded in appreciation.

  “Do you have anything other than what you’re wearing?”

  He glanced down at his clothes—the ones Dinah had painstakingly sewn for him—and frowned. One of his suspenders was now broken, his button-down shirt had been torn and had a button missing, and his broadfall trousers had seen better days. His hat must’ve been lost when his brothers got ahold of him.

  “No. T
his is all I have.”

  Well, he had what he was wearing and Der Herr. Yes, he still had God. That part had been abundantly evident.

  “It looks like you’ll need to visit the store then before your shower.” Robert smiled. “I’ll get you a clothing voucher.”

  “Thank you.” His heart once again filled with gratitude. If he ever became rich, he’d definitely give money to a place like this, he decided.

  ~

  Joseph perused the rack of clothing and noticed other patrons staring at him. He still smelled of refuse and wore his filthy threads. He’d probably be staring too if he came across someone who looked as wretched as he did. But there was nothing he could do about it at this present moment. All he could do was hurry up and pick out some clothes and get out of there as quickly as possible. A bath never sounded so good.

  “May I help you?” An employee approached him.

  He frowned at the clothes staring back at him on the rack. “Jah. I don’t know what size I wear. All my clothes have always been made by my mamm or schwe—sister.”

  “Okay, that’s no problem. Let’s just pick a couple different sizes that look like they might fit and you can try them on.” He pointed to a small room with a door that Joseph assumed was a restroom.

  Joseph grimaced as he looked down at the soiled clothes he wore. “I don’t know if that’s such a gut idea. I need a bath.”

  “I’ll tell you what.” The man smiled. “You can just take them with you and bring back what doesn’t fit. How does that sound?”

  “Gut.”

  “I’d guess you’re about a medium for shirts. Pants, probably thirty-two by thirty-four maybe? Just pick out what you like and we’ll check the size.” He held up a pair of trousers. “See, the tag’s usually right here.”

  Everyone here seemed so selfless and helpful.

  “Thank you.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” He left Joseph to return to the register where a customer waited, then turned back around midway. “You’ll probably want to pick out a belt or two as well.”