A shaft of moonlight fell through the room, painting the floor, bed, wall, and even a bit of the ceiling, blue. Kate didn’t sleep any more; she just watched the blue light grow smaller, and then it was gone, and outside the world went from black to blue to orange, and there was David again, knocking on the door.
They drove a bit before stopping for breakfast, swinging through a fast food chain and buying bagels and English muffins. Missouri gave way to Illinois, and then Indiana and Ohio. As the sun was slipping behind the horizon, they entered Pennsylvania, and proceeded onward.
It was night proper when they pulled off a lonely, two lane highway and onto a dirt path that cut through an expanse of woods which gave way to a rolling swath of farmland.
There were homes here and there, although they were hard to see in the dark. At the end of the dirt path was a large white home, two storeys with a paint job that looked to be no older than a few years. As David parked the car, the front door to the home swung open, and a man came striding out, tall and thin with an angular nose, the bottom of his face covered by a long, gray beard.
Kate got out along with David, who was already making his way to the man. They shook hands.
“How are you?” the man asked, and Kate took him to be Abram.
“Could be better,” David said, throwing a glance over to Kate. “Thanks again for helping me.”
“It’s fine, really. Here let’s get her inside before anyone sees her.”
It was not until she was inside the front door that Kate was formally introduced to Abram, and she shook the man’s hand, feeling the strength in his long fingers which resembled spider legs. He smiled warmly. “Welcome. I believe we both have the same story?”
“Amnesia, buggy accident,” Kate said after saying Hello, and the Amish man smiled.
“David, are you going to stay? It’s late; you’re welcome to stay the night,” Abram said.
“No, I really can’t. I have to get started on this investigation, and get this young woman home.”
A lady bustled out from another room. “This is my wife, Martha Zook,” the bishop said.
Martha deposited a large plate of food on the table, and then greeted David and Kate warmly.
“Look, I’d better get going,” David said. “Kate, here’s the burner cell phone I got for you. Now remember, the Amish don’t use cell phones, and you’ll have to keep it hidden, ‘cause if anyone apart from Abram or Martha sees it, your cover will be blown. It’s strictly just to be used to get to me, or me to get to you. I don’t need to tell you that it needs to be kept set to vibrate.”
Kate nodded and turned the cell phone over in her hand, but when she looked up, David was already half way to the door.
Kate looked around the room, taking in the plain and neat-as-a-pin furnishings, the sense of sameness. She was a tough U.S. Marshal, but, truth be told, she was a little scared of these Amish people. While the bishop and his wife looked nice, she wondered how she would even make it two days in this place.
Acts 18: 8 – 10.
Crispus, the ruler of the synagogue, believed in the Lord, together with his entire household. And many of the Corinthians hearing Paul believed and were baptized. And the Lord said to Paul one night in a vision, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people.”
Chapter 6.
After thinking over the events of the past forty-eight hours, Kate put her head on the pillow and tried for a while to calm her breathing, yet she was unable to sleep. Kate had not done any undercover work before, and to make matters worse, she was already missing the internet and TV.
She lit the small kerosene lamp that rested on the homemade nightstand next to her bed, and reached for a newspaper. Sadly, the newspaper, entitled Hiwwe wie Driwwe, appeared to be in Pennsylvania Dutch or German. Kate had no way of telling the difference, but one thing was for sure; it wasn’t in English and that meant she couldn’t read it. It was a while before she lay back down and finally drifted to sleep.
In the morning, there was a knock on her door, and Kate woke to find she had left the lamp on, the flame sputtering on the soaked wick and most of the kerosene gone. She killed the flame and then went to answer the door.
“I let you sleep in this morning,” the kindly Martha said, “but you will need to be up on time from now on.”
Kate stole a glance out the window. The position of the sun, newly rising, told her it must be around six thirty or so. Sleeping in? What time did these Amish get up?
“My husband, the bishop, has told everyone that you’ve newly arrived from a New Order community in Ohio, that you had an accident, and need some help remembering many things,” Martha said. “We’ve had to tell them that you don’t even remember your own language, and can speak only Englisch.”
Kate nodded.
“We don’t have pockets, but I’ve sewn a pocket for your phone into your dresses.” Martha nodded to the dresses hanging on pegs.
Kate looked down; she was wearing a nightgown with a hem that slid across the floor when she walked. She couldn’t wait to get out of it, but she knew the dresses hanging on the pegs weren’t going to be much of a step up.
“Thank you,” Kate said.
Martha helped her into her dress and then tied her hair into a simple knot before affixing a white cap over her head. “This is called a prayer kapp; you must wear it at all times.”
“All the time?”
Martha shrugged. “You will be staying in a small grossmammi haus behind the haus of the Kauffman familye. I’ll drive you over there now, as soon as I show you how to dress, and fasten your kapp and bonnet. My husband thought that living in your own haus was the best thing to do, as then you won’t be around people all the time.”
Kate nodded, thinking that it was a wise decision.
“My husband’s told the community that they are not to ask you many questions, but they’ll be curious, as we don’t get people from other communities here as a rule. Remember to act demure and not too forthright. The young menner will be pleased to see a pretty young lady, so be careful not to lead them on.”
Kate made to protest, but Martha cut her off. “Sorry, that came out wrong. If a mann asks you on a buggy ride, refuse, as a buggy ride means you will be dating.”
“You’re kidding!” Kate was at once sorry for her outburst. “Oh, Martha, I’m so worried. I’m sure I’ll do something wrong. Your customs are so different from ours.” She bit her lip.
“Nee, you’ll be fine,” Martha said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Just refuse any offers from menner to go anywhere with them. Now the best advice I can give you is to watch people and do as they do. Some women don’t wear prayer kapps in their own homes when no one is visiting, but it’s best to be on the safe side, so I suggest you keep it on unless you’re sleeping. At least your hair is long. That’s good, as we don’t cut our hair.”
Kate bit her lip. “What’s a grossmammi haus? I figure haus means house, but what’s a grossmammi?”
Martha smiled. “That means grandmother. Don’t worry, Katie, you’ll get used to Pennsylvania Dutch words.”
“You speak Dutch all the time?”
Martha chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Nee, it’s actually a dialect of German, and the word is Deutsch. Many years ago, when Englischers heard the word Deutsch, they thought it meant ‘Dutch,’ but in fact it meant ‘German.’”
Kate’s head was spinning. This was all so confusing and too much to take in all at one time. “How on earth will I ever remember all those words?”
Martha patted her knee. “Jah means yes, and nee means no. Just remember those two words, and just blame anything on the amnesia. Oh, and denki means thank you. That’s all you’ll have to know, to start with. You’ll pick the rest up fairly quickly, I’m sure, Gott be willing.”
Kate wasn’t so sure she would. She figured that Gott was God, so she repeated
to herself silently, jah, nee, denki, Gott - jah, nee, denki, Gott, over and over again. She fought the crazy urge to run out of the house.
Psalm 12: 5.
“Because the poor are plundered, because the needy groan, I will now arise,” says the Lord; “I will place him in the safety for which he longs.”
Chapter 7.
“I heard that a car hit your buggy,” Beth Kauffman said, and Kate couldn’t help but note the hint of scandal in her voice. She wondered if gossip was as prevalent in an Amish community as it was any other. Clearly Beth had not gotten the memo about not asking her too many questions.
“Yes,” she said, and then wondered if she should have said, “Jah,” so quickly added, “That’s what the doctor said. I don't know; I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything much really.”
Beth peered into her face. “How come you came here? Don’t you have familye where you're from? Or neighbors to look out for you?”
“My doctor thought it would be better to come to a bigger community and have a change of scenery. I’ve forgotten so much.”
Beth patted Kate’s arm, and they stood there for a moment. “We can help you,” she said.
Kate liked the woman, and while Beth was many years younger than her neighbor, Helen, she nevertheless reminded her of the kindness of the elderly lady.
“I can take you around today, show you a few things,” Beth said.
“That would be great,” Kate said. “Denki,” she added, quite pleased with herself for remembering the Amish word.
But first came breakfast, and Beth led Kate to her dining room. Beth introduced Kate to her husband, Isaac, and her daughter, Rose; Kate guessed Rose was in her early twenties. Kate said Hello to them all, and they sat down.
Breakfast was lavish; there was something called scrapple which Kate thought tasted like a mixture of cornmeal and meat, as well as fried eggs and sausages, a huge pile of mashed potato, and plenty of fresh coffee.
Before they ate, everyone at the table closed their eyes and bowed their heads. Kate did the same, but peeked out of one eye. She assumed they were offering up a silent prayer of thanks for the meal. And then it was time to eat, and Kate dug in. She could get used to the food, if it was all going to be like that.
After breakfast, Rose volunteered herself and Kate to clean up, and the rest of her family left. Isaac went out to do some work on a shed he was in the process of building and Beth left to drive the buggy into town. Rose had Kate bring in the plates and dishes while she got a sink full of water ready.
“Oh, you have running water,” Kate exclaimed.
Rose swung around. “Why yes, didn’t you, in your community?”
Now I’ve put my big foot in it, Kate thought. “Oh yes, but my community – as far as I remember – was a different kind of New Order, and we did things that many other communities didn’t do.”
Rose didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “Jah, running water is common in our district, has been for years. I do think, though, that in my grossdawdi’s time, water had to be conserved as it came from wells and not a municipal water supply, but most houses had some faucets and basins underneath.”
After the dishes were washed, dried, and put up, Rose decided to show Kate to her new little haus before they got to work with their daily chores.
The two women walked outside together, and Kate took a deep breath. The air was cool and crisp, and it smelled like a farm, but it was altogether pleasant, somehow. There wasn’t a loud hustle and bustle, such as one came across in a sleepy Midwest suburb. There were no engines, no honking. No garage doors rolling up and down. The only thing they could hear at that moment was Isaac banging a hammer on his shed. As they walked away from the house, Kate turned and could see Isaac smiling as he worked along side two helping hands.
“Here’s your haus,” Rose said, stopping in front of a cabin made of wood. There was a barn behind it that seemed to dwarf the cabin, and in a fenced-in pen outside, a few cows chewed their cud.
“It’s beautiful,” Kate said truthfully.
“It’s a good, solid haus,” Rose replied, and they walked in.
The first room was the living room, and Kate’s immediate impression was one of cleanliness. The floors were of polished timber, and the walls were timber also. Someone had gone to the trouble to light the wood fire, and the room was already toasty warm.
Kate was at once overwhelmed by the kindness that these people had shown to a complete stranger.
There was an old sofa covered by a beautiful quilt with a star pattern of teal and purple on a black background. In front of it was what appeared to be a handmade coffee table, and on top of it was a huge, leather-bound book entitled, The Martyr’s Mirror.
Rose saw her looking at the book. “Mamm put the Englisch edition of Der blutige Schauplatz oder Märtyrerspiegel in here for you, ‘cause she said you have trouble with words after your accident, but if you want the German edition instead, I can go get it for you.”
“Oh no, no, the English one is just fine, thank you,” Kate hurried to say, looking at the thick book. At least I’ll have something to read, she thought.
“And there’s the kitchen,” Rose said. “It’s only tiny.”
The kitchen was indeed tiny, and was simply up one end of the living room, but had everything Kate needed, including a gas refrigerator and stove.
“And here’s your bedroom,” Rose continued, opening the door to a little room. The room was plain and had a single bed, which had another gorgeous quilt on it. There were pegs on the walls, but this room had an old, oak dresser.
Kate walked into the room and looked around. The bathroom opened off the bedroom, and Kate opened the door to look inside.
“A bath,” she exclaimed with delight. “I didn’t expect a bath.” Again, Kate wondered if she’d said the wrong thing, as Rose looked at her strangely. Kate thought quickly. “This grossmammi house is so lovely, but I didn’t know grossmammi houses had baths,” she said, wondering if she’d pronounced grossmammi correctly.
To her relief, Rose nodded. “My mudder thinks that baths are gut for people; baths with herbs and salt in them are gut after a long day. You can soak away all the aches and pains and be ready for another long day of hard work.”
“Err, yes,” Kate said, scrunching up her brow. Just how hard did these people work? Still, the bath was a major plus, as, before she arrived here, she didn’t even know whether or not these Amish had indoor plumbing. She was certainly relieved that they did.
“You’ll have all your meals with us,” Rose said, “but we’ll give you milk from the cow each day, and I’m sure you’ll want to have hot meadow tea. There are mason jars of sugar and dried peppermint over there for the tea.” She nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “And Mamm made you some whoopie pies. They’re over there, too.”
“Thank you.”
Rose looked at Kate for a moment. “Will we have some tea and whoopie pies now?” Without waiting for Kate to answer, Rose hurried over to the kitchen. Kate followed close behind, determined to watch what Rose did, so she could copy her.
Soon the two women were sitting at the tiny, handcrafted wooden table, sipping hot meadow tea. “How old are you, Katie?’
“I’m almost thirty.”
Rose’s hand flew to her throat. “Nee! And you don’t have a mann?”
Kate didn’t know how to respond, so simply asked, “How old are you?”
“Twenty one,” Rose said, and then sighed. “I don’t have a mann either. No one wants me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Kate said, looking at Rose’s pretty, round face, her clear, bright skin, and the blonde hair poking out from under her kapp. “Aren’t there any young men your age in the community?”
Rose sipped her tea before answering. “Jah, but I only like one, but he doesn’t like me.”
Kate was familiar with sorting out such problems. That was one thing most people didn’t know about U.S Marshals who worked in witness se
curity: they not only had to act as guards, but also as marriage counselor, employment agent, best friend, mother, father, sounding board.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
Rose suddenly turned shy. “Well, there’s not much to tell. His name is Samuel Esch.” Her face turned beet red.
She’s got it bad, Kate thought with a smile. “I’ll tell you what, Rose. Next time I see you and Samuel together, I’ll take note and then see if there’s anything I can do to help. Would you like that?’
Rose’s face lit up. “Jah, jah. Denki, Katie, denki so much.”
Psalm 147: 12 – 13.
Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! For he strengthens the bars of your gates; he blesses your children within you.
Chapter 8.
It had been almost a week, and Kate was exhausted. Who knew these Amish worked so hard? She had spent her days baking, weeding, cleaning, feeding the chickens and pigs, milking the cow, and then there was the endless and time consuming washing of clothes with an old wringer machine, along with taking food to the sick and elderly with Beth.
Kate returned to her small, temporary home after the sun had gone down. The sky above her was beautiful, almost pitch black with a million shining stars, and a fat moon that was bloated and silver. She had never seen a sky so clear until she had ended up at that small Amish community. There was no pollution here, no cars pumping noxious gas into the sky, or factories nearby with unending streams of gray and white smoke coming from their tall chimneys.
Kate took another quick glance up at the sky and then pushed open the door to her small haus. It was one floor, and only a few rooms, yet she felt quite at home there.
Kate moved to the small bedroom and pulled off her over-apron and then her long dress, quickly throwing on a nightgown, as the night air had a bit of a chill to it, and she hadn’t built a fire. Kate reached into her dress, found the hidden pocket sewn there and pulled out her emergency cell phone. She stashed it under her pillow, and sat on the edge of her bed.
Off the Grid (Amish Safe House, Book 1) Page 3