by Mary Ellis
“Josiah was only looking out for you.” Eli eased himself into a chair.
Caleb’s eyes darkened into black pools. “I understand that. He’s a good man, but I don’t need someone watching me like a babysitter. If I wanted to stay Englisch, I would have remained in Cleveland. But you don’t seriously expect me to never talk to an Englischer, do you? That’s a little ridiculous since we work with them.”
Eli flexed his fingers to unlock his balled fists. “There’s more to this than talking to Dave Whitaker or even eating your sandwich with electricians. I heard him invite you to go drinking after work. What would you have said if you had your own way home?”
Caleb pondered the question for a long time—an action that should have been wholly unnecessary. “I would have said no thanks. The same as I did. I have no desire to drink alcohol. It didn’t do me any good five summers ago and did even less good up in the city.” He refilled his glass to the brim. “But I don’t need you or Josiah making decisions for me. Showing a little trust would go a long way.”
Eli slapped the tabletop. “Trust must be earned.”
Caleb’s head reared back as though he’d been struck. “Since coming home, what have I done to deserve your lack of faith?” He wiped his damp hands on a towel and tossed it across the countertop. “I’m to be held accountable because someone asked to have a beer with me? I said no and would have declined even if you and Josiah hadn’t been there to intervene. I don’t plan to repeat the mistakes of my rumschpringe.”
“The problem isn’t what you have done, Caleb, but what you have not.” Eli sucked in a deep breath to steady his nerves. Why did the kitchen seem so overbearingly stuffy? No cook pots were simmering on the stove.
“You’ll need to be a bit more specific.” Crossing his arms, Caleb glared down his nose.
“You haven’t talked to me about joining the church or getting baptized in the Christian faith. You go through the motions during preaching without absorbing a single word that’s being said.”
“God gave you the ability to read people’s minds?” he asked.
“Stop that sass!” Eli struggled to his feet.
“Perhaps you should postpone this conversation until your tempers have cooled down.” Elizabeth had entered the kitchen unnoticed. “What on earth are you arguing about?”
Caleb turned his focus to his mamm, his face softening. “He expects me to join the church when they haven’t even started classes yet. The next baptism and communion isn’t until fall. I would happily adjust to his rules if it were humanly possible.”
Elizabeth stared at him as though he were the unreasonable one. “Eli?”
“You plan to join the membership class?” he asked.
“I intended to all along.”
“All right then.” Eli cleared his throat. “I might have overreacted today. I will do a better job of displaying my trust in you.”
“You must have some before you can display it.” Caleb stalked out the door and down the steps, heading toward the barn.
Elizabeth waved her hands at him. “Please don’t go after him. Let Caleb have the last word for a change. You’ve both been speaking out of anger and spite. Simmer down before you say another word.”
Eli bristled like a startled stray cat, unaccustomed to his wife lecturing him. But in all fairness, Elizabeth made a good point. “My anger is born of fear,” he whispered, deflating like a punctured balloon.
“What are you afraid of, ehemann?”
“Of losing him again to Englisch temptations. Old friends invited Caleb to go drinking with them.”
“They came to your construction site for that specific purpose?” She sat down at the opposite end, her lashes fluttering in confusion.
“No, they’re electricians working on the same project. I’m fearful our son will fall back into old habits.”
“You cannot control him. You couldn’t years ago, and you’ll have even less success now. Caleb must come to the Christian faith and our Amish lifestyle of his own free will. It is the only way this will work.”
“Caleb is right about one thing—I haven’t trusted him.” Eli covered his face with his hands. “And my lack of trust has driven him further away. I’m probably the reason why he left the first time.”
“Let’s not worry about the past. And regarding the present, it sounds like you’ve lost faith in the One who can work miracles. God has performed harder tasks than bringing one Plain man back to His flock.”
Eli peered up and stroked his beard. “My faith in God never falters.”
“Then give this matter over to Him and let go. Show faith in our son and in the Lord.”
“What would I do without you, fraa?” He closed the distance between them in a few strides and encircled her with his arms.
“Ach, you’d probably flounder like a cow struck in the mud. Be thankful that I found you many years ago.” She patted his hand.
“I do, each and every day of my life.”
When Sarah walked outdoors after preaching on Sunday, the breeze felt wonderful on her overheated skin. The Miller house was too small to host services, in her humble opinion, and should be skipped during the rotation. Neither their grain barn nor their livestock barn would clean up sufficiently to host the district. Thus fifty-some people had jammed into their living room and overflowed down the hallways. A few teenagers sat on the stairs to the second floor. Even with every window open in the house and several fans, the room had become oppressively hot before they reached midway in the three-hour service.
On the lawn Mrs. Miller set up a table with pitchers of cool drinks. Aware of the stifling temperatures of his home, Mr. Miller carried benches into the shade of several ancient maples. Without waiting for her mamm or sisters Sarah headed straight for the drinks. She drank most of her first glass of lemonade before looking for her beloved. But instead of Adam, she spotted his mother hurrying toward her at a brisk pace.
“My, it’s awfully warm for May, no?” Anna Troyer reached Sarah’s side huffing and puffing. She cooled herself with a plastic fan from the dollar store. “If it’s in the eighties already, what does that bode for July and August?”
“That would leave the nineties and hundreds.” Sarah poured her future mother-in-law a large glass of iced tea and stirred in a round tablespoon of sugar as she preferred.
“Danki, my girl.” Anna accepted the glass, braced one palm on the table, and finished it in several long swallows. “That hits the spot, but I need to be quick. John is loading our buggies while Adam hitches the teams. I’ve come to invite you to dinner this afternoon. Since it’s the Lord’s Day, it’ll just be cold fried chicken and salads. But we’ll eat outdoors on the porch and in the yard. Adam says you love picnics.” A lock of gray hair peeked from under Anna’s kapp while her apron pulled tightly across her midsection—a testimony to the excellent cooks in Adam’s family.
Sarah had been looking forward to a quiet Sunday afternoon rather than the entire Troyer clan. But there was no way could she refuse. Several of his sisters already thought she was dragging her feet with Adam. “Danki, I would love to come. I’ll have my daed drop me off as we pass your farm.”
“Ach, you’re so skinny, I’m sure we can squeeze you in one of the buggies.” Anna eyed her figure like a challenge to be dealt with.
The idea of squeezing in with Adam’s siblings held little appeal. Their chatter would wear her out on a day as hot as this. “No, my mamm wishes me to speak to Rebekah on the drive back, so I’ll see you later this afternoon.” Smiling, she finished the rest of her lemonade.
“As you wish.” Anna tossed her empty cup into the trash can and hurried toward the parking area. The woman never seemed to stroll, meander, or dawdle.
Sarah didn’t fib about needing to talk to her sister on the way home. Her mother had requested that she speak nicely to Rebekah for practice. And that proved to be a tougher challenge than Anna Troyer adding meat on her bones.
The moment she relayed her plans for
the afternoon to her parents, her sister jumped on the opportunity to nettle. “I bet I know why Anna and not Adam asked you to dinner today.”
Sarah pivoted on the seat to gaze out the window. “That’s nice,” she said to Rebekah, sweet as honey. “Goodness, look at that huge flock of geese. I wonder if they’ll stay in the U.S. or keep going to Canada for the summer.”
Katie stuck her head out the other side. “It doesn’t look like they’re carrying passports, so they’ll probably settle down in Wooster.”
Rebekah had no interest in migrating birds. “His mamm wants to figure you out, Sarah, to make sure you’re not leading her poor son on.”
“In that case, Anna is in for a pleasant surprise.” Sarah looked past Rebekah in favor of her friendlier sister. “Look, Katie. See how they changed positions in the formation? That will give the leader a chance to catch his goose-breath.”
Katie giggled, bobbing her head. “Maybe he honked his way to the head of the line, just like cars on the freeway.”
“The Troyers will probably grill you—”
Mamm cut off whatever nugget of possibility Rebekah had surmised, pivoting around on the front bench. “I want you to figure out how to be kinder to your schwester! This is the Sabbath and yet you poke and prod Sarah like a cow in the milk stanchions. If you cannot find anything nice to say, then I suggest you watch the scenery with your lips buttoned shut.”
Seldom did their mother speak so sternly. Seldom did she need to, and never on the Sabbath.
The drive home from the Millers’ was ten miles, but the Troyers’ driveway arrived early in their journey. Before her father brought the buggy to a stop, Rebekah turned to her with teary eyes.
“Mir leid,” she apologized. “I’ve been feeling sorry for myself about my miserable life. So I took it out on you. Forgive me.” Rebekah sniffled, because as usual, she’d forgotten her hanky.
Sarah handed her a tissue and kissed her forehead. “Everybody’s life seems horrible when they’re your age. Be patient. Your turn will come.”
“Will Adam bring you home tonight?” Eli asked as she climbed out of the buggy.
“You can count on it,” she called. Then Sarah ran all the way to the Troyer backyard where tables had been set up on the lawn. Amanda and Adam’s sisters were already carrying bowls from the house.
“Aunt Sarah,” cried Lydia Troyer, one of Adam’s many nieces. “I couldn’t wait for you to get here.” Lydia threw her arms around Sarah’s waist and peered up through long, dark eyelashes. “Will you sit next to me at supper?”
“I can’t think of a better companion.” Sarah patted the top of the child’s kapp.
“How about me?” Adam came up behind her, carrying fresh picked flowers in his hand.
Sarah grinned and grabbed the massive bouquet. “Does your mamm know you raided her garden?”
“Jah, she gave me the thumbs-up.” Adam leaned over Lydia’s head for a quick kiss on Sarah’s cheek.
“Would you please put these in a coffee can of cold water?” Sarah asked Lydia. “And make sure I don’t forget to take them home.” As soon as the child sprinted away, Sarah wrapped an arm around Adam’s waist. “I’m glad your mamm invited me. You saved me from a dull afternoon in the porch swing.”
“We don’t spend anywhere near enough time together, not with your job and mine.”
“The days are starting to get longer. We should have plenty of chances to count stars and chase fireflies this summer.”
“Sarah, I’ve been meaning to—”
“Time to eat, Uncle Adam,” hollered Joshua. “Or we’ll throw it to the hogs.” Adam’s favorite nephew giggled all the way to the tables.
As Sarah took her seat on the women’s side next to Lydia, Adam sat down directly across from her. Unfortunately, his busybody sister joined her left side. “Would you like some potato salad?” asked Amanda after their silent prayer.
“Jah, gut.” Sarah accepted the bowl while Lydia scooped baked beans onto her plate.
“How about some chicken?” Mrs. Troyer appeared at her shoulder with the platter. Before Sarah could request a drumstick, her hostess plopped a breast and two wings onto the plate.
“Would you like some bean salad?” asked Lillian. Adam’s sole shy sister-in-law appeared the moment Anna moved away.
“No, danki,” she said. “I have plenty to eat already.”
Lillian’s smile faltered. “But I made this from Josie Yoder’s recipe. Isn’t she your best friend?” The bowl hovered before Sarah’s nose.
“She is, indeed. I suppose I can fit a spoonful next to the baked beans.”
Lillian dished a mound that threatened to shift into her lap. “Let me know if it’s as good as Josie’s.”
As Sarah began eating, she noticed Adam biting the inside of his mouth more often than the chicken. She tried kicking him under the table but connected with the post instead. During supper, the topics of conversation moved from optimum lettuce varieties for hot weather to the likelihood of rain this evening to whether or not snakes had been aboard Noah’s ark.
“Of course they were,” said Adam. “But not the poisonous ones, just the good kind that keep the mice in line.” Sarah expected one of the youngsters to ask how rattlers survived the flood, but no one did.
Instead Joshua, well-known for telling jokes, popped up with his latest. “Uncle Adam, why did the celery think the tomato was mad about something?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Adam wiggled his thick eyebrows.
“Because he was stewing in his own juices.” Joshua broke into uproarious laughter.
“Let’s wait until after supper for any more jokes, son,” said the boy’s father. “Folks need a full belly to appreciate your brand of humor.”
When everyone finished eating, Sarah scrambled up to carry leftovers to the kitchen. With thirty people, there would be plenty of dishes to wash. But Anna Troyer stopped her at the back stairs. “No guest of mine helps with cleanup.” She pulled the bowl of coleslaw from Sarah’s hands. “You run along. My son wants to take a walk with you.”
Sure enough, Adam waited near the barn, spinning his hat between his fingers. She knew she should have insisted on helping, but yearned for some time alone. When she reached his side, she took his hand. “Let’s hurry before Joshua or Lydia or someone tries to follow us.” Sarah picked up her skirt and they loped down the path.
When finally out of view of the house, they slowed their pace. “I apologize for my family. They can be pushy at times.” His warm breath tickled her ear as he wrapped an arm around her.
“Your mamm and sisters sure want me to eat more. They mean well, or at least I hope they do. They’re not fattening me up for fall butchering, are they?”
“Absolutely not. I have other plans for you.” His voice was barely audible.
An uneasy sensation ran up her spine. She didn’t want him spoiling an otherwise perfect afternoon. Couldn’t he enjoy her company without exerting pressure? For the next ten minutes they strolled arm in arm to the river. Cold water rushed over moss-covered rocks in a ravine where sunlight rarely penetrated. Just as she lowered herself to a boulder, Adam broke the serenity with his usual question.
“Is this how it will be forever, Sarah? We court until I’m an old man and you’re an old woman?” His lips drew into a poignant smile.
Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. This wasn’t what she’d expected. It occurred to her that Adam probably would wait forever, despite whatever consequences ensued. “Nobody should give up on this old woman yet.” Grabbing his arm, she pulled him down to her rock. “Classes are starting in a few weeks and I will be there. You can count on it.”
9
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God
Josie glanced over at the men’s benches as though Caleb would suddenly appear in the Miller’s sweltering living room. But no matter how many times she scanned the familiar faces, she didn’t see the one she yearned for. Wh
y hadn’t he come to the preaching service? It had been two weeks since their trip to the movies in Wooster, and she’d seen very little of him since. Of course, anytime he came by the house, one of her sisters managed to turn up without something better to do than eavesdrop on their conversation.
Josie didn’t know what to make of him. Was he really interested in her, or merely passing time until he figured out how to spend the rest of his life? Her parents hadn’t been pleased when they’d stayed out so late. And they weren’t happy that she was courting Caleb...if that was indeed what she was doing.
“Stop daydreaming,” Margaret Yoder whispered in her ear, along with a companionable nudge to the ribs.
She smiled at her mother and then gave full attention to the bishop’s sermon. Sarah’s father spoke of turning one’s back on sin without passing judgment. So hard to do, she thought. Didn’t people always want to condemn those who acted in ways they felt were wrong? How difficult a walk Bishop Beachy must have had during those years his son had been gone.
When the service concluded, Josie was trapped behind her formidable mamm and grossmammi for another ten minutes until their row emptied out. Why her family couldn’t chat outdoors where it would be cooler, she didn’t know. Next Josie needed to assist her grandmother over to the chairs since she was staying for lunch with the Millers and other district members. Then Mamm sent her on errands back to the buggy to get their hamper. By the time she put the food in the house and searched for Sarah, her friend had already left. Sarah had said nothing about Caleb before the service and Josie hadn’t thought to ask. Now she had plenty more questions than just why hadn’t he come to church.
When her family arrived home that afternoon, Josie’s anxiety began to ebb. After all, Caleb lived within walking distance—a long walk to be sure, but he was accessible. And the fact that his sister was her best friend provided an excuse to pay a social call. After packing a basket of cold pork chops, homemade applesauce, and chocolate chip cookies, Josie set out on the back path to the Beachy’s. A gentle breeze lifted her kapp ribbons, along with her spirits. Caleb could be sick in bed with a rare, fatal disease while she was getting annoyed about lack of attention.