Rebecca's Choice (27 page)

R
ebecca opened the next letter. Her hands moved slowly as she slid the paper out. The house was silent around her.

Manny,

It’s been twenty years now. I just checked the date of the first letter. I am still teaching school. M-Jay’s wife isn’t in good health. It’s the one thing that doesn’t seem to prosper for him. His oldest boy has just married, quite well I thought, but then what do I know about such things.

M-Jay has three other boys and one girl—a haughty child if I do say so myself. I wish her mother would bring her under control. I suppose she tries, and M-Jay too. She has just started dating. I think she’s a bit young, but then what do I know. I have only you and me to judge by, and that didn’t turn out too well.

The girl, Rachel, is dating a boy from the community. He seems nice enough. He comes from the other district and never went to my school. M-Jay seems to dislike him. Why, I’m not sure.

Rebecca paused, then read on about the family and Emma’s schoolwork, the turning of time and pages in Rebecca’s hands. The dying started—aunts, uncles, a few accidents, and then M-Jay’s wife. She glanced at the clock once, saw it was near eleven, but kept going. The letter that especially held her attention was written during a time she was all too familiar with.

I am seeing it happen before my very eyes. I do declare, Manny, if it isn’t the two of us all over again, a little younger than we were but the same.

The girl’s name is Rebecca, just out of the lower grades. I feel a special affection for some of my children, and she is one of them. The boy too, as far as that goes. That such love happens so young is amazing. They are in love just as you and I were. I watch and say nothing, but my heart burns.

They have such decent manners, the two of them, as Amish children do and should. I doubt if being inappropriate will ever cross their minds. Rebecca’s mom seems aware of her daughter’s feelings but allows her to continue being around the boy. They see each other in school, of course, and some on weekends.

I assume someone will soon intervene because they are getting to the age where their affections for each other will begin to raise eyebrows. How sweet, I think, watching them walk home from a day at school. What must it be like to fall in love so young and have it last throughout life? I will not be surprised to see them date as soon as they are old enough.

Rebecca read on, then opened the next letter. Her interest was peaked when she read the second paragraph.

M-Jay died today. Not unexpectedly, but I still feel completely alone. I wasn’t expecting it, Manny. I also wasn’t expecting the fury that rose over the inheritance. No one knew, of course, but M-Jay kept his word. He was true to the end. It would have been easy for him to tell me “no,” but he didn’t.

Rachel especially took it hard. I suppose I had some idea how much her mind was on the money. The problem is mine is also on the money. I’ve always told myself the money had nothing to do with my decisions. In my heart I still believe it, but when the time came, I wanted it, Manny. I wanted the money with an intensity that alarmed me and still does.

Here I am, though. The funeral’s over. I’m living on the home place. Rachel’s fuming is about over, I think. The spoiled child. It will do her good to live without her heart’s desire for a few more years. Eventually I’ll see to it that she gets it back.

In the meantime, I have the inheritance in my hand. It’s strange how it affects me, even soothes my heart—the freshness of it, the numbers in the bank, the rolling fields that bear my name, the animals that live and die because I want them to.

It’s delightful how men, young and old alike, look at me, that intent look of respect in their eyes. I never got such looks before when I was Emma-the-schoolteacher. Sure I still teach, but I am now the Emma who owns three farms and money besides. You would almost think I was in love, Manny. Isn’t that crazy? But then the thought breaks my heart, and I cry. I’m left with an agony that doesn’t go away.

The inheritance increases in value each day. I take comfort in it. I tell myself it is
Da Hah’s
reward for my faithfulness to Him and the faith all these years. Does His Word not say, those who obey Him will prosper?

Rebecca glanced at the clock, its hands were approaching midnight, but she pulled another letter out.

Manny,

I am frightened tonight and sick of myself at the same time. Remember the boy and girl I told you about? His parents are
leaving the Amish. I was expecting Rebecca to show up in shock at school, her face long, but she hasn’t. She looks resigned, but not worried. Instead she is almost happy.

I wish I knew why. I thought at first she had not been told, but then I asked her, and she blushed. She knows, but she is not devastated. Does she know something I don’t?

But that’s not really why I’m frightened or sick of myself. I found out today that I’m dying. Yes, Manny, the end cannot be far away. Sure, the doctor comforted me with words. He said with the advances in medicine… all those things… and I do have money. It will be a while yet, he said. Years, in his words, but I know better.

My time on this earth is short. The preachers have always said that, but this is different, more different, more real, more shocking than I had ever imagined. What is it like over there? Do they really have streets of gold? Are there really rewards for all the sacrifices we have made here?

I think the unthinkable, the awful, and I come up with only doubts. I am sick of myself. The money, the farms, they now just make it worse. I know I came by them by no desire of my own, but I have enjoyed them willingly enough. I have even tried to use their pleasure to heal my heart.

Will I have children in heaven, Manny? I ask, and I tremble at what I have lost. Maybe I should have had my eyes opened years ago. I wonder if you ever had any. Is there a boy or a girl who carries your blood, the color of your eyes, your twinkle in their eyes, your ability to love. Are you childless, Manny?

Can God really make up for my mistakes? I shudder at my nerve in asking, yet I shall soon see Him, so I might as well ask now as later. He is not one who doesn’t know what I feel anyway.

I should have loved the widower, Manny, all those years ago. I would have felt disloyal to you, to our love, but it would have been worth it. I tried to do the right thing, but it was the wrong thing. I see now an even worse thing. I should have loved you, Manny. I should have. I never thought the day would come when I would say that. Is it because I am dying?

I thought you were wrong then, but that wrong would be easier to make right than what my life has become. I know it, Manny. I know it with every ache and beat of my weary heart. I’m sure my heart is dying because I never allowed it to love. The doctor would tell me I’m crazy, but I just know. I know because I was there through all the pain.

Now I am left with numbness. The pain doesn’t even come that often anymore. That is frightening too. I am dying, Manny, as sure as my heart has been dying for a long time.

Rebecca didn’t look at the clock, as she removed the last letter. The pages rustled in her hand, the kerosene lamp flickered, and she reached over to turn up the flame without her eyes leaving the white paper.

Manny, Manny, dearest Manny,

At last I can say it. I now know what to do. The relief is immense. My joy returned for a while at least, and then the sorrow returns. Rebecca was here today. She told me the story of her and Atlee, and I told her what I was supposed to say.

Even in my dying, I could not but say what is right. I told her she must, of course, marry the Amish boy. The words came out of my mouth, but my heart was crying. I’m too old to change, Manny. I know it, and I accept it. I saw that today. I can never change, but I know I should have. I should have loved you.

In my dying I can still save Rebecca. Perhaps that is the atonement for my sins, the purging of my life. That in death I should save another and be rid of this accursed money in the process, I cannot but look at it so. It brought me a false joy, comfort for what should not have been comforted, peace where there should have been none.

Rebecca is young. She can do what I cannot do. She has the time I do not have. Today I mailed the first letter to my lawyer. In the letter were my instructions to draw up the proper papers. I will use you as the executor of the will. I don’t know how I know you are still alive, but you are Manny. Even if you’ve married, your wife surely won’t object because I’m no longer here. That is by the time you read this. Perhaps you have even told her about me, in which case she already understands.

I will mail you these letters, so Rebecca can read them. You can too, and I say I’m sorry again, but there is no longer time to make things right between you and me. Rebecca must not make the mistake I made. She must follow her heart. She must dare to love what is forbidden. She must.

I will write the will to say she doesn’t receive the money if she marries outside the faith. What joy the thought of her choice brings me. She’s a good girl in a way I never was. She has deep convictions. She will choose love. Let her spurn the money, as I never could. Let her take it under her feet as our Lord did the serpent.

I know she will. Rebecca will never let the love of the inheritance influence her, as I know it influenced me. I told myself it never did, but I doubt that now. My heart is quite wicked, Manny. I am sorry. It should have been yours, and you could have saved it. I know you could have. Left to myself, I only became a worse person than I already was.

This will open Rebecca’s eyes. Perhaps my confession here will help. Let her see all of this, Manny. Let her see and reject what I did wrong. It is my hope that out of the dust of my broken life may grow another who is wiser than I am. She will return to her love for Atlee. I know she will.

Goodbye, Manny. It really is goodbye this time. I go to cross the river soon and before my time because my heart has failed me in more ways then one. Rachel can have her cursed money, the farms, the animals, the emptiness they all bring. I would take your kiss, Manny, any day—just one in place of them all.

Emma

P.S.
Emma.
I think that’s what they will call me in heaven. The last name “Miller” doesn’t belong. If they insist, I’ll tell them it should have been “Troyer.” Your name sounds so much better.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-NINE