Tears of the Silenced

by Misty Griffin

  “I told them you were going to the police if you did not see me within one week of the set day.” Samantha stared blankly at the wall. Something was strange and unsettling.

  “And I would have.” I nodded fervently reaching over to hug her.

  Samantha was like a brick in my arms.

  “Well, they dropped you off, though,” I said, trying to get her make her happier.

  “I am only seventeen,” Samantha pointed out. “What if they come back for me?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” I chided, pulling her new Sunday dress out of the suitcase. “Why would they do that? It’s only a few months till you are eighteen, and if they come for you, you just won’t get in the car with them.”

  “Mamma was mad at me.” Samantha was still staring at the wall. “She called us ungrateful bi***es who deserved to be stoned to death for our disloyalty.”

  I spat angrily, “Mamma is nothing but a crazy psycho who deserves to be locked away from society for the rest of her natural life.”

  I wanted to ask about Fanny and Grandma, but I was worried about Samantha’s mental state.

  “Come on.” I strained to pull her to her feet. “Try this dress and church apron on.”

  Samantha stood up slowly, still staring at the wall. I pulled her dress off over her head and slid on the new black dress. As I pinned her up, she started shaking her head.

  “What?” I asked with a mouth full of pins. “Don’t you like it? I ironed it so that you would fit right in with the Borntrager girls.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Samantha pouted.

  “Then what?”

  “I am not going to fit in as easily as you.”

  I grabbed Samantha by the shoulders, deciding it was time for some tough love.

  “Samantha,” I raised my voice. “You need to snap out of it.

  I was trying to provoke a reaction, but her eyes still seemed glazed over. I shook her shoulders again and looked deep into her tired eyes. “You could ruin your life here before it even starts.” I shook my head disapprovingly at her like I had done when she was little. “Once rumors start flying, it is hard to squelch them.”

  Samantha was taken aback and I saw a flicker of anger pop into her eyes. Finally, some show of life.

  Now that Samantha was lucid, I showed her the secret to pinning her dress and apron so the pins would not poke her when she moved around. Self-consciously, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.

  “Looks nice.” She smoothed down the wide, black dress skirt.

  “Yep,” I smiled encouragingly. “It’s nice to be like everyone else, huh?”

  She nodded, looking at herself again.

  After Samantha tried on her other dresses, we went downstairs to help with the evening chores. It was awkward calling Samantha ‘Beth,’ and I could see it was just as awkward for her to call me Emma. When we were by ourselves, we continued to call each other by our birth names.

  Samantha was not very talkative to her new family that evening. The Borntrager girls wanted to play with her, but she kept glancing around at everyone as if she expected them to laugh at her. I could not blame her; I am still surprised we did not lose our minds on that mountain.

  We all went to bed after the evening baths, and I snuggled into bed next to my sister, relieved that we were both finally free. It was a dream come true, and despite the disturbing things I was finding out about my new home, it was heaven for two girls who had lived in fear for most of their lives.

  But I could not help thinking about Fanny, Grandma and the future foster children. Samantha was too fragile a state to talk about it, but I knew I had to tell Jacob and Lillian our real home life story.

  By the first of May, life had settled into a normal routine; Samantha and I led separate lives except for when we met at church every other Sunday or the occasional social events.

  Samantha had bounced out of her shell and was settling into her new life. I, however, was growing increasingly agitated about having left Fanny and Grandma on the mountain. It had been two months, and I was still trying to muster the courage to do something. I tossed and turned every night, imagining Fanny’s tear-stained chubby face. I would eventually fall asleep, only to see her again in my dreams. In the dreams, I struggled with Mamma, trying to rip the belt out of her hands, or to push her off Fanny’s lifeless body.

  Because of my sleepless nights, I was often tired during the day. I began to get dark circles under my eyes, and I could not eat much. I began to rapidly lose weight. One morning at the breakfast table, after I’d eaten a small amount of oatmeal, Jacob asked me if I was feeling okay.

  “I am just not hungry,” I said quickly, smiling.

  “You haven’t been hungry for weeks.” Jacob furrowed his brow at me as he pushed half an egg into his mouth.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lillian squirming. Jacob had been paying a lot of attention to me lately. If I ignored him, it seemed to make him try harder.

  My hands trembled in my lap, and I was afraid I would burst into tears under all the pressure. Everyone at the table was staring at me. Elam, noticing my discomfort, decided to help me out.

  “Oh, come on, Dad.” He grinned mischievously. “You know the girls at the youth table always have a bet on who can lose the most weight the fastest. You were with the youth once, too.”

  “Is that true?” Lillian asked with a frown. “I don’t like my girls being proud like that.”

  I smiled but didn’t respond.

  “Well,” Jacob pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, “we best be getting on with the rest of the harrowing today. I am going to take Emma again to help.” He nodded to me.

  “Why Emma?” Lillian asked, standing up with a frown on her face.

  “We have to get that motor fixed for the Johnson’s by the end of the week, and Emma is good with the horses. You already know that,” Jacob responded.

  Things were getting tense here, and I was the pawn in a marriage that had been long over. I got up to grab my coat and scarf, happy to be going out to the field.

  In the kitchen window’s reflection, I saw Jacob, looking at Lillian matter-of-factly. He was unfeeling with her. I never heard him say anything kind or loving toward her. I wondered if he had ever loved her.

  Later, I rode to see Samantha with Jacob, who was going down that way to pick up supplies. Being with him made me uncomfortable. I knew that the gossip would swirl, but he had offered the ride and I had more important things on my mind.

  The bell rang as I pulled open the glass door to the Borntrager bakery. Samantha was putting cookies in the oven and was surprised to see me.

  “What are you doing here in the middle of the week?” she asked as she wiped her hands on her apron.

  I looked around the room to make sure there were no little ears hiding.

  I pulled off my big black bonnet. “We have to do something about Fanny and Grandma. I can’t stand it any longer.”

  “I thought we said we would let it go once we got the hell out of there,” Samantha snapped at me.

  I shook my head vigorously. “That is what you said. I would never agree to that and you know it. I can’t take it anymore, and I am going to do something with or without you, but I wanted to tell you first.”

  Samantha bit her lip and shook her head. “I am not going to get involved. If anyone asks me if what you are saying is true, I will tell them yes, but I will not get involved, do you hear me?”

  “Okay, if that is what you want.” I sniffed the air as the aroma of oatmeal cookies tickled my senses.

  “Want a cookie?” Samantha asked, handing me one of the warm, delicious treats.

  I smiled and nodded, suddenly feeling hungry now that I had voiced my plans to help Fanny and Grandma. We stood in silence while I ate my cookie and she waited for a new batch to finish baking. As
we stood there, I was amazed we were both here, in this community. I remembered the little girls who had to sit in the back of the truck for hours while their parents were out shopping. I shook my head to try to get the images out of my head.

  I blinked myself back to the present and began tying on my bonnet. Samantha seemed agitated as she grabbed my arm. “Hey, just be careful… whatever you do.” Her eyes were frightened. “We are safe now. We have new lives; we can’t go back. Not now.”

  I nodded to reassure her and looked out the window to see the buggy already coming up the lane. “I’ve got to run.” I reached over the counter, gave her a big hug, and ran out the door.

  As I jumped in the wagon, Samantha waved at me from the bakery’s window. I waved back blowing her a kiss as we disappeared around the bend.

  On the way home, I gathered the courage to tell Jacob why I needed to go back for Grandma and Fanny. I told him about our horrific life on the mountain—how we had to call the police and try to get them taken away from Mamma.

  At first, he seemed shocked but agreed we needed to talk it over with Lillian. I felt a nervous at the idea of bringing up the subject with her. She would think I was seeking attention. But I had promised Aunt Fanny I would get her out.

  I was nervous about confiding in Jacob who I felt was eager to get involved to impress me. I worried about backlash from Lillian, but without Jacob to help me argue my case, I would get in trouble with for calling the police. I had to accept whatever help I could get.

  Freedom from Prosecution

  The world is a dangerous place to live; not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don’t do anything about it.

  —Albert Einstein

  That evening after the other children went to bed, Jacob asked me to stay up.

  “I think you are in trouble,” Elam snickered at me as he snapped Moses’s suspenders on the way to their bedroom.

  I shook my head at Elam as I sat back down on the bench at the table. The light of the kerosene lamp flickered softly off the light blue walls and calmed my nerves.

  “Okay.” Lillian looked at me inquisitively after the younger children closed their bedroom doors. “What is this about?”

  Jacob nodded toward me. “Emma has something she wants to tell us.”

  “How do you know?” Lillian asked, not hiding her anger about me riding alone with Jacob.

  “Look,” I said, reaching over to her, offended by her accusative tone. “I just went with him so I could talk to my sister.”

  Lillian pulled away from my touch like I was poison. “And what was so important that you could not wait till Friday when we go to help clean for church?”

  I felt so overwhelmed that I burst into tears. I buried my face in my hands and began to shake uncontrollably.

  “So what did you do that you need to confess?” she asked impatiently.

  I stood up from the table and shoved my chair back. “You know what, Lillian?” I took a deep breath. “I am tired of having you accuse me of trying to get attention all the time. Do you know the very real problems I have? No, you don’t,” I answered for her. “I have an aunt who is literally being tortured every day by my evil mother and stepfather. My grandmother was once made to wash her own sheets in the freezing cold when she wet the bed. They are both starved and given ice-cold baths. And my wonderful parents are soon going to be foster parents. That is why I have lost weight and can’t sleep at night.”

  I sat down and stared at the wall. I felt bad for yelling at Lillian; I was living in her house. But it was good to finally tell her what had been bothering me.

  I looked at Jacob and Lillian’s surprised faces. To my dismay, I saw admiration in Jacob’s eyes. I looked away quickly.

  “What are you planning to do?” Lillian asked.

  I was overrun with guilt. “I am sorry, Lillian. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” Lillian’s voice was hostile. “You need to work on your sense of entitlement. Do you think you are the only one with problems?”

  “No, that is not what I think,” I blinked back tears, “but I do think I am the only one who is willing to do anything about them. I can’t let them stay up there to suffer. I cannot live with myself anymore.”

  “Well, we don’t go to the police, so I don’t know what you plan to do.” Lillian shrugged.

  “What?” I grew angry again. “That is your response when I tell you someone is being tortured?”

  “It’s not the first case like this I have heard of,” Lillian answered sternly. “I know many families where the fathers and mothers beat their children. It’s just how it is.”

  “You can’t think like that,” I pleaded. “It’s wrong, and people like this have to be stopped. We are Christians and are supposed to follow Christ. He would never have condoned such behavior.”

  “Your job,” Lillian quipped, “is to do what you are told and make sure you are following the rules.”

  I shook my head violently. “My job as a fellow human being is to care for the helpless whenever I can. It is inhumane to allow this to continue. It goes against nature itself.”

  “That is not your concern,” Lillian snapped at me. “You are far too proud if you feel you could ever change anything. Who do you think you are?” Lillian was seething mad and turned toward Jacob. “It is not our way for our people to interfere like this. Tell her, Jacob.”

  “It’s your way to let people suffer, as long as you don’t look proud doing it.”

  Jacob, who had been silently watching us argue, held up a hand to silence us. “Hold on. I will talk to the Bishop and elders about this matter. We normally would not do this, but the fact that Brian is beating his own mother and Sue is beating her older sister is a grave matter. This shows disrespect for their elders, and since they are not Amish, it may be acceptable to alert the authorities about this matter.”

  Lillian got up from the table. “You’re good about making up rules when they are in your favor, Jacob. You just asked me here tonight so I would not think something was happening between you two.” She turned to me. “I know you would be happy if I killed myself. You could have my family then.”

  “What?” I gasped in astonishment. “I don’t want your family. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Lillian, you will be silent.” Jacob stood up and yanked her arm. “Are you trying to ruin us?”

  I saw tears running down Lillian’s cheeks, and I felt pity for her. Lillian would have been a far nicer person if Jacob were better to her. But I needed Jacob to help me sway the Bishop. Looking around the room, the kerosene lamp light suddenly became suffocating, and I felt trapped. How could it be that saving someone might be against the Ordnung? Where was that written in the Bible? I unpinned my dress collar in frustration and took a few deep breaths. I was confused and hurt but still determined to do something.

  A week later, there was a meeting of the ministers and it was decided that I would be allowed to call the police to report my mother. This decision did not come lightly; much arguing ensued over the matter. At first it seemed that they would not be allowed to call the police because some argued it was against church customs and that, in doing so, I would be dishonoring my mother.

  No one doubted our story. Samantha and I had been talked to separately and our stories matched. The real problem was that it was against custom to involve the police. Eventually, an agreement was reached: Brian was dishonoring his mother and Mamma was dishonoring her older sister. This was seen as a sin, so I was granted permission to call the police. But many church members were still not happy with the decision. I knew I was calling attention to myself. No one truly seemed to care about the intense suffering that Fanny and Grandma were going through; everyone was more concerned with rules and customs. This left me confused and shaken.

  Despite my efforts to sway the church to allo
w me to call the police, little was achieved. After talking to the police over the course of a few days, I was told that I had no evidence. I begged the officer to have someone see Grandma and Fanny without their clothes but was told that it would infringe on Mamma and Brian’s religious beliefs. Since Samantha and I no longer lived at home, our bruises had long faded and we were in no immediate danger. We feared Mamma might come back and force Samantha to return with her since she was not eighteen yet, but we had no proof that Samantha was in danger.

  Two policemen were sent to check on Grandma and Fanny but had reported that everything looked fine. Mamma and Brian had been polite and had invited them in for coffee. They pretended to be sad about my accusations. They had told the officers I was a rebellious teen trying to get back at them for the conservative lifestyle I had been raised in.

  I did not understand how the legal system worked. I could not believe that the police would leave Grandma and Fanny on the mountain, even though they thought I was telling the truth. I had no way to get evidence to save Grandma and Fanny. I had risked my reputation in the church for nothing. I had let Fanny and Grandma down and my church did not seem to care about them.

  The next week, Samantha and I both received letters from Mamma. Mamma had figured out that I had been the one to call the police, so my letter was beyond awful. Samantha’s letter told her how much Mamma loved her and if she ever needed anything, she should let her know.

  As much as I tried, I could not let the matter go. I had been admonished to move on, but I couldn’t. I continued to lose sleep. Sometimes I got up and walked around in the house at night. While everyone else slept, I walked out on the porch to looked at the stars. I cried while all around me was dark, save for those stars and the moon beckoning me from above. We were miles from any city. The silence was deafening; the silence would smother me.

  Both Lillian and Jacob saw how sunken and heartbroken I was. Samantha tried to pull me out of it but she could not.

  “Samantha, how can you leave Grandma and Fanny up there?” I cried after church one day.