Beside Still Waters (8 page)

Ellie's navy blue kapp contrasted with her bright blonde hair, and her looks and coloring couldn't be more different from five-year-old Josiah's dark complexion, more like their dat. Marianna wondered again who Marilynn and Joanna looked like most. Her chest clenched when she realized Joanna hadn't been much older than Ellie was now when she died.

Marianna sighed as she looked at her sister. If only she could stay that innocent and sweet forever. If only she didn't have to hear the story of the night Marianna was born. To grow up and discover that, even though they lived a simple life, there was nothing simple about their losses. If only she could escape the pain that lingered like the May chill creeping in with the sunset, not allowing spring to occupy the night.

Her brother and sister lined up more misshapen lumps next to hers.

"Great job." She, of course, could make rolls better and faster, but her siblings had to learn—just as she'd learned from her mother. Even though she'd rather be rocking a baby or bottle feeding one of the new lambs, she did fine in the kitchen, despite her mother's admonitions.

The soup simmered on the stovetop, filling the room with an aroma that made Marianna's stomach growl. The steam from the pot also brought a moistness to the air, fogging the kitchen window and making it harder to see her father outside. He and Uncle Ike had been talking a good hour. A conversation that long could only mean their discussion was serious in nature. Dat never stood around, wasting time chatting unless there was a purpose. Working full time in the factory in town and caring for a family and a farm saw to that.

Her mother flipped through the stack of mail. Marianna liked nothing better than enjoying a quiet evening at home with her siblings. But there was no joy tonight. The truth of Naomi's plan seized her, chilled her. The secret like ice expanding from within.

"You received a letter from the Junes." Her mother set a small stack of letters on the table, then rose and checked the cook stove, readying it for the rolls.

Marianna turned to Josiah. "Can you finish these up?" He nodded, his dark bangs swishing against his forehead.

"Me too!" Ellie chimed in.

Marianna hurried to the stack of mail. She needed something to distract her. Something to get her mind off her heavy heart.

Levi and Naomi wouldn't be the first couple to leave. Though it wasn't common, Marianna had seen this type of thing through her growing up years. First one would leave, then the other would follow. Sometimes they came back after years of hardship. Life in the Englisch world wasn't easy. Some Amish didn't have birth certificates or Social Security cards. Even harder was their lack of education, and work was hard to find. Some got jobs and were paid under the table, a fraction of what other workers received. In the Englisch world they had to find new clothes and learn to talk different. Sometimes they were taken advantage of, and many times they had no choice but to take advantage of others, living with them, eating food and wearing clothes that they couldn't afford.

There were those couples who came back and lived within the community. Often just one would return, choosing God's way over the world.

"King me," David called from the checker game. He looked most like Marianna, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. In a couple more years, he'd no doubt be her height.

Marianna didn't need to look at the address label to know which envelope was hers. She pulled the large yellow envelope from the bottom of the stack and carefully opened the flap, turning it upside down. A stack of ten letters slid out along with a dirty penny, a pressed violet, and eight other small trinkets. Marianna didn't know who came up with the idea of sending small things with their letters, but she was glad they did. It added extra fun, even though the letters were entertaining in their own right.

"Read one letter, and then I need you to get those rolls in the oven."

"Yes, Mem." Marianna glanced to her siblings, who were making more of a mess than anything, then she focused on the loopy writing on the page.

Their circle letter started as a school project, writing to other girls who shared two things: the same birthday and the fact that they lived in an Amish Community in Indiana. They'd started with seventeen participants, but over time ten, including her, remained faithful—all of them born on June 7.

Marianna began reading the first page, which was always a letter from Beverly. Somehow in the midst of their chain letter writing, someone had decided to stack them in alphabetical order. Over time this became as closely observed as the trinkets in the envelope and the manner that the letters were sent around—each girl receiving the package, reading the letters from the others, pulling out her old letter, and adding in a new one before sending it off again.

Dear June-Sevenies, May 4 (1 month, 3 days)

I love that spring has come to Indiana. The flowers and grass popping up. Not the tourist popping up. I will never get used to them. Yesterday I was in the store and the clerk was telling me about her husband's experience. He is a police officer and he received a call about problems with an Amish man.

You know that our area (yours too) is often advertised as the place to see Amish. Well, this lady was quite upset because she wanted to take a photo of an Amish man while he was plowing. She wanted him to stand next to her husband with his horses, but he refused, stating he had work to do. Not to mention the problem of taking a photograph. The clerk said this woman went to the police station to report it! She wanted the police to fire him or to have him arrested. She thought the Amish man was working for the state of Indiana and that his job included entertaining the tourists. I suppose she thought he was an actor playing a part. Would you believe that?

Dat entered the room with quick steps and placed his flat-brimmed straw hat on a nail near the back door, distracting Marianna from her reading.

"Dat!"
Josiah and Ellie called in unison, dropping their dough balls and running toward their father, reaching out with sticky, dough-covered hands and flour-sprinkled clothes. Marianna knew that most fathers in their community would have scolded their children for not washing up first, but Dat patted David and Charlie on the shoulder, where they sat at their game, and then squatted down to scoop the younger two up in a hug.

"Mem, I've found two more bags of seed. Do you know how these got in the house?" Dat tossed Josiah and Ellie over his shoulders and held them by their legs, their heads dangling down his back.

"Weez not seed bags," three-year-old Ellie countered, snapping her father's suspenders with her small hands.

"Yer, not? Good thing you said so, I almost put you out in the barn with the cows." He set the two down and ruffled their heads, before moving into the kitchen, sidling up to his bride. Knowing their game was over, the youngsters returned to their dough at the table. Marianna slid the letters and the objects back into the envelope, placing it with the other mail. After talking to Naomi, the letters seemed frivolous. And then there was the look on her father's face. Even as he joked, there was a seriousness in his gaze.

Without a word Marianna rose and moved to the table, sitting in the chair beside Ellie. She again pulled a piece of dough from the dwindling ball and rolled it in her hands.

"Ike's not coming in for supper, is he?" Mem's voice was curt.

"No. He's heading down to the Stoll's place. They invited him to eat with them."

"Hope Ike doesn't go telling his stories again. It's prideful, you know, talking so much about a place." Mem took down eight bowls from the open cupboard, by habit, before returning one.

"It's my brother you don't care fer, not the idea." Dat placed a hand on Mem's shoulder. "You have to admit seeing something new, taking an adventure with our children, doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"Some Amish man you are, speaking of adventure. You never were content just being a farmer, were you?" Her mother pouted. "Maybe that's why my dat never approved much of you. Then again." Mem's voice quieted and she peered over her shoulder to where Marianna sat. "So you really think it's a good idea?"

Dat lowered his voice. Marianna strained to hear, though she kept her gaze on her hands as she worked another piece of dough between her palms.

"Just for a year. That Zook boy is still working to build his herd, establishing his home. One year won't make much of a difference. Marianna's not planning a wedding yet."

They talked about her as if she wasn't in the room. As if she couldn't hear.

"Can you tell me again of the community? Are the people nice?" Mem angled her knife and sliced a cucumber into ovals.

Marianna rose and placed the first tray of rolls into the oven, yet even though they were her favorite recipe she'd lost her appetite. She returned to her envelope, fingering it. Dat was just talking. He had talked about moving for six months off and on. Perhaps another six months would go by and they'd still be talking.

"Ike says the people are friendly, and the mountains are nothing like you've ever seen. And the community is smaller and life's slower paced. Ike's friend offered me a spot at a log furniture workshop. Without the farm I'll only have one job, and we can spend more time together. Montana seems like my type of place. I'll call and check on train ticket prices."

Train tickets?
The envelope slipped from Marianna's fingers, spilling the contents on the floor. The penny rolled, spinning under the kitchen table. Her body grew hot, then cold, and the conversation continued in slow motion. Even Josiah's gleeful shout as he jumped down from the bench and chased the coin sounded flat to her ears.

Pain pierced her forehead right above her temples, and she knelt to retrieve the items. Her hand reached for the pressed flower and she noticed fresh blood seeping through the bandage. The pain was nothing compared to her heart. She imagined it split open and bleeding within.

They couldn't do this. They couldn't take her from Aaron. If they ever loved her, surely they'd let her stay.

Dear Journal,

I wish my brother were here. I have a thing or two to say to him. Haven't our parents been through enough? Does he wish to shame them even more by causing Naomi to stray?

That's only the beginning. I've been thinking about so many things. If he came back and joined the flock, I doubt Dat would want to leave. But even more important, what about God? I wonder if Levi realizes that walking away from God's way is sure to bring wrath upon him? We are to be set apart. We were the ones chosen to do God's work. Levi should embrace the fact he was chosen—not run away from it. Even the tourists that visit can see God's hand upon us. They are drawn to us because they see something different.

What I hate even more is to think how much God is displeased by my brother's actions. I've heard of what has happened to people who've left the faith . . . and I don't want anything to happen. I'm scared for this and for so many things. I wish things were the way they used to be. I was used to Mem's sad gaze as she looked to Marilyn and Joanna's trees. But losing a brother, and possibly a home, is something I'll never get used to.