Rumspringa's Hope, page 13
He took her hand and went to her room. “I’ll be right outside your door. Try to get some sleep.” He squeezed her hand and walked out the door.
She heard the chair knock against the door and his shoe tapping on the ground. He wasn’t an anxious person, but tonight’s fiasco must have brought him to a level he couldn’t suppress.
Emma heard voices as she got ready for bed—others, who must have been nearby, asking what happened, but not one came out from hiding. She couldn’t blame them. This leader person obviously had a reputation.
She peeked her head outside the door and looked to see whether anyone was nearby. When she found the hallway empty, she stood next to Caleb. “Danke for keeping me safe.” She paused, looking at the brown fold-up chair she’d seen up against the wall. “You were here last night too weren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Danke, that makes me feel better.”
“You’re welcome.”
She turned to go back into her room, but stopped. “I heard you call that man by name. What was it?”
Caleb looked away and then stared at her for a moment. “His name is Abe. You might remember him better as Absalom, my brother.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Emma was exhausted when she went to bed but was awakened by movement in the room. She lay stock-still, barely breathing. The smell of tobacco wafted through the room, and a tall figure fell into the bed next to her. She knew Caleb wouldn’t let in anyone but Monique, so she sat up and tried to see with the dull light that shone through the dingy window pane.
“Monique?” Emma’s voice was just above a whisper.
The dark silhouette didn’t move. “What?”
Emma jerked, surprised at the sound of Monique’s voice, rough and gravelly. “How are you?”
“Humph.” She grunted.
Emma sat up. “I’m worried about you.” She slid off the bed and moved toward her. Understanding the truth of what Monique had been through gave Emma newfound empathy for her.
“Don’t be.” She rolled over and lay on her back.
“Can I turn on a light?” Emma didn’t want to pry but couldn’t stand by and pretend nothing was wrong, either. After seeing Abe in action, she wouldn’t put anything past him. She never would have realized who he was if Caleb hadn’t told her. It wasn’t just his appearance. His eyes were cold and unfeeling, unlike Caleb’s, which showed every feeling in his heart. The shock of Abe being the man who stalked Monique was stuck in her mind. She couldn’t get her head around the change in him. He’d always been a troublemaker, but this was so far over that line, she couldn’t see the end of it.
“I don’t care,” Monique mumbled.
Emma was about to flip on the light when Monique sat up. “Don’t. I like the dark.”
“Are you okay?” Emma could hear in Monique’s voice that she wasn’t, so she flipped the switch, only long enough to see for herself that she was okay. The one lightbulb shone against the darkness. Emma squinted just long enough to see a bruise. The dark color of her skin made it hard to see.
“I told you not to.” Monique squealed at Emma and covered her eyes with her hands.
Emma turned off the light. “I’m sorry, I just knew something was wrong and I want to help.”
After a long pause, she heard Monique sigh. “Did your boyfriend tell you about me?”
“Caleb is a friend.”
“Whatever you say.” She lay back down with a groan.
Doubt raced through Emma. Monique was obviously in pain, but she didn’t know how to help her. Even if she did, Monique probably wouldn’t cooperate. No matter how many times this happened to a person, it had to be embarrassing or maybe it was more frustration. She could only imagine how Monique was feeling. “Can I do anything for you?”
“I just need some sleep.” She took in a sharp breath.
Emma went to the door and slowly opened it. “Caleb.”
He stood. Dark bags under his eyes showed his fatigue. “How’s it going in there?”
“I need some bread, hot milk, pepper, and a bowl.”
“Go back in and lock the door. I’ll be right back.” Caleb hurried to the stairs as she closed the door behind her. When he knocked a few minutes later, she opened the door and took the items he brought.
He lingered in the doorway. “Monique, I’m going to turn on the light.”
There were so many street and car lights outside, it wasn’t a total shock when Caleb flipped the switch, but Monique complained again all the same.
Emma ignored Monique’s mumbled cursing and got busy making a poultice with the milk, pepper, and bread. She kneaded the ingredients together, adding bits of milk to the bread until she had a pasty substance. Monique, with no idea what Emma was doing, made repulsing noises when she saw what Emma was making.
“That’s disgusting. I’m not eating that.” She wrinkled her nose and turned away.
“It’s not for eating.”
Caleb grinned. “This is a poultice.”
“Your mamm made it too, jah?” Emma smiled, enjoying a memory of something at home.
Caleb smiled as he watched her, and she thought he may have suppressed an emotional response. His lips tightened, and his head was down as if to hide his face. “It doesn’t taste good, but it sure does the trick on wounds.”
“Let’s see how it works for you, Monique.” Emma offered a small amount to Monique. She slowly reached forward toward a bluish mark on Monique’s arm.
Monique frowned and pulled away. “What is this, voodoo?”
“Nee. It’s a home remedy. I’ve used it many times. It usually helps.” Emma looked into her eyes, and Monique stared back.
A few seconds ticked by before she finally nodded.
“It smells funny,” she said as Emma applied the gummy substance to her bruise and a small open wound. “What does it do?”
“Draws out the pain in those scratches, keeps it from getting infected. It’s harder to move a bruise along. It heals in its own time, but this will help a little.” Emma examined her work and glanced at Monique. “The cuts are small, so they should heal quickly.” She paused and looked away. Monique seemed to do better when she didn’t look her in the eyes when she asked her questions. “What are they from?”
“A scratch.”
“From Abe?”
Monique sat up straight. “No, from my pet cat.” Her voice rose with annoyance. She tried to cross her arms over her chest—a gesture Emma had seen her do before when she got angry—but winced when she touched a sore spot. “You say his name like you know him.”
“I do.” Emma began to clean up, avoiding eye contact.
Monique’s eyes squinted. “‘Course you did. You’re from the same farm?”
“The same community, jah.”
“He ever your boy?” Monique grinned a little, but not in a kind way, and looked at Caleb, as if she wanted to make trouble.
“Nee.”
Monique looked at Caleb and then back to Emma. “Caleb was.”
Emma’s cheeks warmed as she finished cleaning up. “Leave it on as long as you can stand it. It tightens as it dries.” She didn’t look at Caleb when she handed him the bowl. “Danke, Caleb.”
“Thank you for helping Monique.”
She felt his eyes on her but didn’t look up until he turned away.
When she glanced at Monique, she was smiling. “He’s a good guy—puts up with me and every other messed-up person around here.”
“You’re not messed up, Monique.”
She grunted. “Then what am I?”
“Alone.” Emma didn’t know where the word came from but thought it was all that was needed at the moment.
“I ain’t alone. You’re standing right here.” She scowled.
“People aren’t enough.”
“You got that right,” Monique scoffed.
“Even good people.”
Monique’s eyebrows drew together. “What’s left?”
“Christ.” Emma had so many verses memorized and speeches to say, but all that was coming out were one or two words. When she started to panic, a cool calm surrounded her. She waited.
“Don’t know Him. Don’t want to, neither.”
“Why?”
“I’m what people call a lost soul. Not all good and righteous like you Amish folk who are on the right side of God.”
There it was—what she’d worried about. How could she explain herself to someone who saw her in that light? Her life was so different than Monique’s, and her faith had been grounded at a young age. Gott was surprising her with this conversation, so she took in a breath and let Him work through her. “Being born into it has made me question it.”
Monique blinked. “What do you mean?”
“If you don’t make it your own, it’s not for Gott. It’s for others.”
“I see that every time these Amish kids come around every spring. Ones like you don’t usually talk this way though.”
“Ones like me.” Emma thought about the words. She’d always been considered a strong Christian in her community. Being here made it easy to think that was true. But Gott was pushing her to live it and show it to others. For the first time in her life she had to explain who she was in her faith, not just say she had one.
“There’s ones like you all over here every year. They try to help the wild Amish. They’re the ones who usually go home crying.” Monique lifted her brows in confirmation, and Emma believed it. She was exactly what Monique was talking about. No wonder Mark resented her, being the “good” older sister, there to keep him from sinning.
Caleb walked in. “Everyone all right in here?” When he saw Emma’s face, he stared.
“I open my mouth too much,” Monique confessed.
“It’s okay. I was talking to Caleb about it the other day.” She could see that Gott was preparing her back then and probably long before that. Emma had to do it His way, not her own. She heard the lines in her head that she’d prepared to say, and shook her head. “Thank you, Monique.”
Monique frowned, always suspicious. “For what?”
“Helping me see myself from the outside in.”
Monique turned her head to the side, absorbing what Emma said. “I don’t know what I did. You’re kinda freaking me out.”
Emma shook her head, unfamiliar with her words, but figured out enough to know it was a joke. “I have a lot to learn.”
She meant that in many ways. The people, the culture, the purpose, but most of all, what Gott wanted her to do here. It was obviously much different than what she had planned. It scared her and excited her at the same time.
This trip has been a journey into the unknown from the beginning. Why would that change now?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zeb stopped at the post office for the second time that week. He’d never spent so much time in town. The small city of Lititz had become somewhat of a tourist attraction, not like it had been when he was a kid. The population was twice the size, and everyday stores had become novelty shops that had everything from tacky Amish postcards to chocolate figures depicting an Amish person. The store owners defended selling them by saying there were no faces on anything they sold, so it was all fair game.
He made a point to put his head down and keep going when tourists were around. Most respected his privacy, but others were incredibly rude.
A woman discreetly took a picture, and then stopped in front of him. When he tried to ignore her, she fell into step with him. “Can I have a picture taken with you?”
He didn’t say a word, just kept walking. She eventually drifted off. With the mood he was in today, he hoped for their sake no one bothered him. He’d heard through the grapevine that Emma made it to the city, but he hadn’t received anything from her.
“Zeb.”
His head snapped up at a loud voice. “Merv, I didn’t see you.”
“Or hear me. I called your name a couple of times.” He shook his head with frustration plastered all over his face. “You were fretting over Emma again, weren’t ya?”
“Jah, as a matter of fact I was.” Zeb stood tall, bowing up a little to remind his kid brother he was the elder of the two. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were scolding me.”
Merv shrugged. “I guess I was.” He looked at him sideways. “But don’t you think you deserve it? You said once she left, you’d let it go.”
Zeb started walking, done talking about it, and Merv followed like a pup after its mother. Zeb didn’t want to be reminded of what he said he’d do. That was before she left, when he’d thought he could follow through with supporting her decision to leave. But Merv was right—he couldn’t stop pining over her. There was too much of the unknown, and for a young Amish woman to be in such a place was ridiculous. The worst part of it was that she hadn’t really wanted to go. This could have been avoided, except for Mark. And in Zeb’s eyes, Mark wasn’t enough of a reason for her to go. She either had another reason he didn’t know about or it was his worst nightmare—Caleb. If there was a connection between them, it could ruin everything he’d planned.
“Someday, when you can find a girl, you’ll understand,” he said.
Merv stopped for a second and stared at him. “What do ya mean, can? I could get any old girl any old day.” He frowned.
Zeb could see he’d struck a chord and was enjoying the response. “I’ll believe it when I see it, or her, I should say.” Zeb waited for the retaliation, and sure enough it came.
“I courted David Barkman’s daughter all last spring. Your memory’s going.” Merv huffed out a breath.
Now he’d struck a chord with Zeb, although Merv wasn’t aware of it. Zeb worried about the age difference between him and Emma. Although he didn’t look it, he was ten years her senior. She was soon to turn a year older, but so was he. He’d always be a decade older than his wife. That didn’t resonate well with him.
Merv hurried, trying to keep up with Zeb. “Where are you headed?”
“Post office.” He knew Merv would figure out what he was doing, again. But he didn’t care. Emma had promised she’d write, and he believed she would. He’d waited three days, which was maybe too soon, but by the end of the week he’d expected some sort of response.
“So that’s what it is. You haven’t heard from her.” He slapped Zeb in the back. “Don’t worry, big brother, she’ll be back soon. Emma’s not one for the city.”
He hoped Merv was right but didn’t want to seem too eager. “Nee, she’s not. I’m interested in contact information.”
Merv followed at his heels as Zeb went to his mailbox and slipped in the key. He didn’t get enough mail to bother with a box at his farm, so he just came into town now and then. He could see a white envelope through the small glass area above the key.
“Well, is it from her?” Merv was breathing down his neck, literally.
Zeb shrugged him off and pulled out the mail. He then looked at the handwriting. “Jah.” Zeb wished he were alone so he could read it privately, but he didn’t want to wait. He ripped it open as calmly as he could and read the two paragraphs she penned.
Zeb,
I’m sorry I didn’t send this to you earlier. It’s been quite an adjustment, one I’ll never fully make but am trying my best. At first, I was ready to leave at a moment’s notice, but as long as Mark is here, I have a reason to stay.
I suppose you are all getting ready to seed the fields. I enjoy planting even more than fall harvest and am disappointed I’ll miss it. I miss the food even more. I’m hoping to help improve the meals here. If I leave this place accomplishing only that, it will be a great feat. But I’m hoping for much more to happen before I come home. Pray for me.
Yours,
Emma
At the bottom, she’d made a sketch of what looked like a rundown building. Then he noticed a cross on top of the roof on the second floor. If that was where she was living, he’d go and pull her out right that minute. He hoped it was only a hostel where they were housing the less fortunate, or a soup kitchen where she volunteered.
“Is that a church?” Merv was so close, Zeb felt his breath again.
“Did you read this whole letter?” Zeb was irritated enough that others in the post office stared at him.
“Just parts.” Merv backed away.
Zeb took in a deep breath. “Gotta run a couple errands. You coming?”
Merv nodded and went ahead of Zeb. “Jah, Daed needs some feed.”
Zeb hated his temper flying off that way. Sometimes he thought he’d be better living on his own with only a wife to tend to. Maybe that was why Gott had never given him any children. He’d never known whether it was him or his wife that kept them from conceiving but decided he didn’t want to know.
The fact that Emma had written only a few words bothered him. What was she doing that she couldn’t take a little time to write in more detail about what was happening? Her message was confusing, one minute saying she wanted to leave, and the next saying she had something to do there. The unknown filled his mind with negative thoughts. Worst of all, Caleb was there with her. Memories still went through his head when Emma and Caleb were young, hiding behind the haystacks and fishing together down at the creek. Now they were together again. How could he not wonder and worry?
They stopped at the seed and farm supply store to place their orders. They’d planned to buy feed for the livestock, as well, but the prices were too high. Zeb decided to shop around before making the purchase.
As they were leaving, Merv pulled out an envelope from Zeb’s pocket. “What’s this?”
Zeb squinted to read the return address.
The City Ordinances Municipal Offices, Lititz Pennsylvania.
“What’s that about?” Merv looked over Zeb’s shoulder.
“I have no idea.” He ripped it open and read silently, knowing Merv was too. “Steel wheels banned, Ordinance No. 41, on hard surface highways?” Merv said it loud enough to make some heads turn as they walked out of the building. “Why did we get a letter? It was a warning, right? And I thought Reuben said we had to have steel wheels.”
Zeb’s blood pulsed with every step as he remembered his conversation with Reuben, who’d promised he’d let the bishop know about the situation because it affected everyone in the community. It was a cheap way out of dealing with it himself, but if Reuben could take care of it, the burden would be lifted from Zeb.
