Hope Deferred, page 13
“About everything. About God and joining church and going to hell if he doesn’t repent. His soul is hanging in the balance, you know it.”
Eli shook his head and said very softly, “His soul is in God’s hands, not ours.”
CHAPTER 12
IN ANNA’S HOME, THERE WAS A UNITED FRONT. WITH ARMS AND HEARTS entwined, they faced the future as one. Delving into meaningful daily devotions, they absorbed the Word of God like a thirsty sponge, swelled and watered by the assurance of Christ’s love and His power when parents worked together seamlessly.
For if they stood on the solid rock of Christ, what could go wrong?
Their cup of joy was filled, and both parents knew why, although one would not admit to the other that the fueling of this rejoicing was the disappearance of David. They shook their heads in pious sorrow when gossip reached their ears, knelt by their bed and prayed in unison for his soul, but the realization that he would never marry Anna was an achieved victory. A triumph of spiritual battle.
Anna took a job teaching mentally handicapped children. The school board members were in awe of her and her uncanny abilities with these little ones. She was gifted, knowing instinctively what they needed, when, and how.
A letter arrived from Leon Beiler.
True to his word, he had never forgotten their time together but had decided to give her space and plenty of time to make the right decision. His handwriting was precise, his prose well-educated, a letter that did not seem to be written by an Amish boy with an eighth-grade education.
She read and reread the words, held the letter to her heart, remembered his touch and the feel of his dry lips on the back of her hand.
She wrote back on blue-flowered stationery, wrote in kind, accepting words that thrilled his heart, bringing a smile to his face.
Dave did his research well, reading every article he could find, filling his head with images of Australia.
This was the land he set out to conquer. He’d lose himself in the wilds of this diverse land, test the limits of his own strength and see how fearless he really was. His interest was mostly taken by cattle stations. It was like the West times ten, or a hundred. Vast areas with so many cattle that they hired dozens of drifters, toughened men who were the characters he would become. He felt the dust from the dry land churned up by thousands of cattle, the pull of the horse’s mouth on the reins, visualized a himself in a genuine cowboy hat. Every western movie he had ever watched grew larger and more romantic in his mind as he thought of the open range.
He talked to Wayne and was met with openmouthed disbelief. “You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can.”
“What about . . . well, you know, your mom and dad?”
“What about them?”
“They’re gonna have a fit.”
Wayne shook his head and could hardly see how Dave could do this to his family.
“Dad doesn’t care. Well, he cares, but not that much.”
Wayne swiveled in his seat and faced his friend with the honesty that is only between true friends.
“What about your mom?”
Dave’s eyes fell. He rubbed the palms of his hands across his knees, picked up a pair of sunglasses, put them back.
“She’ll get over it.”
They were sitting in Wayne’s car, watching the crowd of youth at the ballpark in Intercourse. It was a hot, humid evening, but one that held the promise of fall, the way the leaves hung limp and old, waiting to be changed into the glory of color.
“So do you know about Australia? You know, this is just crazy. You can’t do this. Why not Montana or Wyoming? You have to have a passport. I bet you didn’t even think of all that stuff, did you?”
“Course I did.”
But he had not. It had never crossed his mind. Well, he had his birth certificate, his driver’s license, his Social Security card, so how hard could it be?
Dave got out of the car, putting an end to the conversation. Wayne’s disapproval only egged him on.
His parents’ response to his well-laid plans did not go well, with his mother alternating between tears and pleading. His father, as usual, said very little, only warned him of the danger of being alone in the world.
“You need to be smart, alert, and above all, don’t be too proud to ask advice or direction.”
His mother broke in with a wail.
“Now you’re giving your consent, Eli? You may as well be telling him it’s all right for him to go, when you know it isn’t.”
His father took up where she left off, assured Dave that he was doing something of which neither one approved. To do something so alien to all he had been taught was being disobedient to his parents and to God.
“This is hard for your mother and I, Dave. Won’t you be able to find it in your heart to reconsider?”
Tremulous words from her husband set Rachel to sobbing and Dave to squirming uncomfortably in the old kitchen chair. But there was no giving up, no change of plans. His father recognized this in the set of his son’s jaw, the light in his eyes, and the way he leaned forward and twitched his shoulders. He was like a horse tethered to a hitching rack, pawing the gravel till he dug a sizable hole.
Eli recognized the inevitable. There was nothing to do, but he spoke to appease his sobbing wife.
The brothers came, their wives pale with nerves and concern. They talked him out of it, or so they thought, and went home glad to be of help to the incompetent parents.
Dave realized there was no support, no good wishes, but he plowed through the mess of feelings and warnings like a well-ruddered boat through choppy waters. Australia was a destination, a homing in on an adventure of a lifetime.
He sold his Jeep, took a small loss, but was satisfied. He bought luggage, boots, clothes, whatever he would need in arid conditions or wet and cold.
He had narrowed down the research to a place the Australians called the Kimberly, the northwestern hump of the loneliest state.
His book on the region said it remained a sort of frontier. A frontier meant pushing into unexplored regions, which sent a thrill straight down his spine, tingling even his hands and feet. There had been a terrific conflict that dragged on for years in the late 1800s, when cattle kings burst into the region and tried to take the land from the Aboriginal people.
That was huge. Dave’s eyes sparked with passion.
Man, he thought, wasn’t that something? Those people were black and likely still not too crazy about the white people settling their land. He imagined real western life, but instead of Indians, there were the Aboriginal people.
Dotted with cattle stations, it was a land so vast you simply couldn’t believe the aerial photograph.
So the country had been a British colony, which meant cars would drive on the left side of the road, and they’d all drink tea and speak with a British accent. That was cool.
The queen of England was queen to Australia, although she had little power in the government. The whole government deal seemed safe and ordinary, same as the United States, so he knew there were no weird rebel groups who would form an uprising and take visitors hostage the way they would in some countries. He hoped the Aboriginal people were peaceful, though.
Well, the worst of it was behind him—the telling of his plans to his family. It had not gone well, but then, he hadn’t expected anything else. Really, to get what he wanted was a lesson in setting your eyes on a goal and plowing through. It was relatively easy.
He obtained his passport in less than three weeks, then set about booking his flight. Qantas was Australia’s flagship carrier, meaning he could book a decent flight from New York City.
It was all done online with his Visa card, lying on his bed in the upstairs of the farmhouse in the middle of Amish country, the world at his fingertips via his cell phone. It was the coolest thing, he thought again, this seamless way of obtaining information.
He was set. He had to be in New York at John F. Kennedy International airport on October 2 at three fifteen in the afternoon. He’d ask Wayne to drive him to New York. He was pretty smart, could find his way around Baltimore and Philadelphia without too much trouble, looking for stadiums.
Luggage ready, flight booked, parents told, research done. He felt ready, fully informed, prepared to be a man in an unfamiliar world. He was physically fit, or getting better, since he’d sworn off the “bad stuff,” as he called it now.
It wasn’t easy, none of it. Not the night sweats or the hallucinations, the unbearable headaches and the shivering, being icy cold then burning up.
Still wasn’t easy, but he’d done it. He had something else to replace the vacuum that had been the loss of Anna.
It still rankled, though. The loss rode on his mind like a burn, the inability to forgive raked across his soul, causing a quick temper, often a sour disposition, leaving him puzzled.
None of it was his own fault, either. That family simply didn’t get it, that not everyone would fold up like an accordion the minute they expected it.
Even with all his plans for the adventure of a lifetime, he was often depressed, melancholic, as if a dark cloud arrived out of nowhere and dumped a ton of water on him. Well, not a ton, but enough to make him miserable.
His mother spoke to him about carrying a grudge, noticing the dark unhappiness in his face.
“Forgive, Dave. Nothing else will bring you happiness. You could have bent to their rules, so don’t leave us with that burden on your back. I’m afraid you’re trying to fill the space with Australia, the space that should be Christ’s redeeming blood.”
Dave left his mother standing in the kitchen watching him, bereft of a quick reply. He just couldn’t think of anything to say, partly on account of her words being soaked with truth.
But that was the thing about being Amish that irked him most. You could have God with you without joining the church. Look at the billions of English people with hundreds of different ways of following God. They didn’t have to dress a certain way or drive a horse and buggy. So what was the use? His own justification rang in his ears, even as the Spirit tugged at his heart to remind him of all he had been taught through the years, which wasn’t much. But he could not deny knowing he was expected to honor the heritage of his forefathers, to remain in the faith he had been taught by his parents.
He knew right from wrong, deep down, no matter how hard he tried to explain it away. But wasn’t it prideful to think only the Amish knew the right way of living? He was so used to justifying his own actions in his head that it had become second nature.
On the night before his departure, his father and mother both tried their best to be brave, to enjoy a good home-cooked meal together without the unsettling presence of arguments. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and filling, lima beans from a late planting, with cherry pie and ice cream, two of Dave’s favorite foods.
“So you’re leaving in the morning?” his father asked.
“Yep. Eight o’clock.”
Their eyes met, one with the light of anticipation, one with the muddled sadness of resignation.
“So you’re not changing your mind?”
“Nope. Hey, stop acting like it’s my funeral. You give me the shivers. I’ll be back.”
“I just wish you weren’t going alone,” his mother said.
“I can take care of myself.”
“But where you’re going, Dave. It is literally the bottom of the world.”
“That’s all right. I can’t wait to see what it’s like.”
“Darwin? That’s the city, right?” his father asked.
“Yeah. It’s northwestern Australia. The last frontier.”
Eli nodded, smiled ruefully.
“I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“I do. Fully prepared. Bring it on!” He laughed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. This was going to be the adventure of a lifetime.
“Just be careful, Dave. Be very careful. Take God with you. Remember to pray. Mam put a Bible in your luggage. Take it out and read it whenever you feel you should. It’s a good practice.”
Dave nodded, but he hardly heard his father. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. He could hardly wait to be on the plane, away from the sad eyes of his parents, their meaningless warnings and advice. Why was his dad suddenly so intent on preaching at him? Probably Mam was badgering him again. Whatever, neither of them had any idea what was best for him at this stage in his life. They didn’t know the half of what he’d gotten into over the last many months, and he intended to keep it that way. But if they did, surely they’d be glad he was making a clean break, a fresh start.
Leon Beiler came to visit Anna on a Friday evening, with her parents’ consent. She was dressed in a lovely rose color, the pink in her porcelain cheeks heightened by the matching hue in her dress, her eyes like blue jewels. She ran up and down the stairs, ironed covering strings, grabbed her mother’s cologne, laughed and twirled and sang.
Her parents smiled at one another, their approval making this an evening to remember. Their discipline had all been worth it, every heartache, every argument, every prayer. Here was real love, the kind they had always sought for their daughter.
Leon Beiler impressed them at first sight. His physical appearance was more than pleasing, but his quiet spirit was like a magnet to both of them.
They homed in, the way Anna knew they would, seating him at the kitchen table, serving coffee, noticing his manners and gentle confidence in the way he thanked them, smiled, answered their questions with ease.
Her mother took notice of his shirt, the way he wore his trousers, his choice of shoes. Very impressive. And when he launched into an account of his life as a counselor, her mother had entered effortlessly into openmouthed worship, her eyes limpid with approval.
Her father smiled widely, asking too many questions, which Leon didn’t seem to mind in the least.
Her mother served mini tacos and dip, homemade pita chips, and a vegetable tray with hummus. She poured tall glasses of ginger ale and pineapple juice.
Anna seemed to hover on the perimeters of the kitchen table, smiling when a smile was expected, giving the right answer to a question. Relieved to have her parents’ approval at long last, she willingly took second place and waited till she and Leon were finally alone.
They moved to the couch in the living room, in the soft glow of an antique kerosene lamp and two jar candles. He was seated so close she could smell his cologne, a heady mixture of spice and musk.
He turned to her.
“You are even more beautiful than I remembered.”
She blushed, lowered her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Words can’t describe my feelings. I want to hold you, kiss your lovely mouth, but I know what is required, so I’ll do it, Anna. I’d do anything, absolutely anything in my power to have you, to hold you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same.”
Anna lifted her eyes to his, allowed her love for him to radiate from the warm light.
He caught her hands, then let them go.
They talked till eleven o’clock, when the driver from his hometown came to pick him up. She was not disappointed in him, and he was lifted to heights of love he hadn’t known existed. He asked her for a date the following weekend, which she accepted with gladness, reveling in her parents’ love and approval.
Everything had all turned out well, just simply everything.
Until she thought of David. She knew he was going to Australia and agonized at the thought of getting him to change his mind, afraid he’d fall apart completely there. She knew him so well, understood the way he thought, the way he needed something in his life to present an almost impossible challenge. She wasn’t surprised he was going, but still she wished she could find a way to help him before he left.
She could understand this veering off the beaten path. The path that held thousands, millions of Plain people from the Reformation until the modern day, all upholding the same spiritual views, the same honor to their heritage. Or nearly the same. Some drove vehicles, some drove horses and buggies, some were assured of their salvation, others only hoped they were saved. All longed for the same heaven, worshipped the same God.
David had stopped, assessed their church’s requirements, and decided he could not scale the heights of the required oof-gevva-heit. Too high, too low, too hard.
His love for her was genuine, in his own selfish way.
Had it been real love?
Only God could answer that, only God knew the state of his soul. That was why she sat silent when her mother went on and on about the dangerous path he was on. He was, by all outward appearances, a mess. But who was to say that God had not given him this strong nature, and set about devising a plan to redeem him from himself, harnessed by the wiles of the devil?
And so even in parting, in being torn apart, she took up for her beloved man who occupied a space in her heart forever. She would never assume otherwise, never want him to leave. He was a part of her, like her own heart’s beating, the pulse at her wrist ticking.
But he was gone.
And how did one go about picking up the pieces, even with the aid of one Leon Belier, the long-sought-after suitor her parents had prayed for?
Was it possible to love wholly, to love in the way that was expected of her, keeping all the holy promises with a pure heart if David, or the essence of him, stayed with her?
She would set her eyes on the goal, obey her parents, and do what they asked of her. She would expect the blessing of love for Leon, and his love for her. Even as she answered her own questions, she wondered if David had already begun his journey to the base of the earth.
He had.
After a hurried goodbye to his parents, a manly handshake for his father, an almost hug for his mother, he and Wayne were off in a spray of gravel and onto the macadam, where they picked up speed as they headed north to the airport.
He grinned, pumped his fist, rolled down the window, and howled like a wolf. He felt as if he could conquer anything, and he wanted to take on the world.
Gone were the restrictions, the folks with noses in the air looking down at him, spreading gossip, half of it lies. He was bursting out of the suffocating world of being Amish, away from everything that had ever held him back, and it was as exhilarating as he had imagined.
