The Brethren (22 page)

“And yet you honor your father’s request.” Esther’s heart went out to her.

262 “If it were up to me alone, I’d follow my heart, probably, and paint every single day.”

Essie studied her friend’s face, nodding slowly. “It’s a wonderfulgood calling, Annie. But surely your heart is calling you to more than art, ain’t so?”

“Ben, you mean?”

“Could be. But I’m not thinking of him tonight. I’ve seen you changing, Annie, your heart softening to the Lord.”

“Maybe so, but I still love to paint.”

Essie wanted to share something she’d discovered from her talks with Julia and others at her new church. “I hope you can understand what I want to tell ya, Annie.”

“Jah?”

“Sometimes when we love something, if we’re willin’ to give it up ‘specially to God it is given back. Ever hear of such a thing?”

Annie shook her head. “No …”

“Honestly, I think if we cling too hard, the thing we love can’t blossom. But if it’s released, sometimes it is returned. If it’s s’posed to be, that is.”

Annie pulled her robe together tightly, fidgeting, and Esther worried she had offended her precious friend. “Just think on it, all right? Don’t fret.”

Getting up, Annie nodded. “I’m awful tired. Good night, Essie.”

“Sweet dreams, Annie.”

After nursing the baby, Esther rose and carried her to the crib. She stood there looking down at her miniature angel swathed in the white of the moon, listening to the slow

263 breathing. Her heart swelled with love for her family, and she thanked the Lord yet again for sparing the life of the next new babe. Then she prayed, “Oh, please touch my Zeke with your loving hand, Father. Prepare his heart for you, and call him to know and love you just as I do. This I pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

Ben sat in the Rancks’ attic room and read and recited

the Pennsylvania Dutch words from the book Irvin had loaned him. Again and again he practiced, trying for not only the correct pronunciation but the cadence of the words and phrases as he remembered hearing and speaking them.

Closing the book, he reached for the Bible he had slipped into his suitcase back home. Turning to the Gospel of John, he read all of chapter fifteen, contemplating the concept of Christ being the true vine, God the gardener, and he himself being a branch. “If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit. …”

He had always wanted to be a “good guy,” but he had failed, time and again. He struggled with temptation, like anyone, English or Amish. There seemed no way to be consistently kind, patient, loving, obedient or good enough while growing up in his father’s house. In either of his fathers’ houses. He needed to be connected with the “source,” the true vine; he needed to be grafted in.

Continuing his reading, Ben realized he had never felt this inclined toward the Scriptures. They were telling him he belonged, that he wasn’t alone. He did not have to guess any longer; in the fullest sense, he knew who he was.

264 Rejuvenated, he determined to read several chapters each day, as he knew Irvin did upon first awaking. He would talk to God, too the real and personal way he had witnessed Irvin and Julia doing because he was persuaded his being here, and the realization of his identity, had somehow been orchestrated by an unseen hand. Surely, God had called him not only back here to his Amish roots but into a relationship with Him, as well.

265

vJther than the letter, there had been no forewarning of Ichabod’s arrival in Paradise. Jesse coughed abruptly at the sight of his old friend standing on the back stoop Monday morning, the screen door rattling with his knocking.

As lanky and dark-headed as Jesse remembered, Ichabod stood with broad shoulders, waiting. Not saying a word, Jesse made his way through the utility room and opened the door.

“Preacher Zook” came the familiar, raspy voice.

Jesse refused to say he had been expecting him or to offer his usual welcome. All the anger and bitter disappointment of the years filled him in that silent moment. As they exchanged glances, Jesse noticed the surprisingly congenial expression on Ichabod’s ruddy face and saw neither pride nor resentment registered there.

“I’ve come to visit my son’s grave, if it’d suit you to show me the way. Thought I might ride over to the cemetery with you and the missus … or however you’d like to do this.”

“Daniel …” The name slipped out before Jesse could retrieve it. The brethren had agreed to call him Ichabod for a reason, and nothing had changed, far as Jesse knew. The

266 man was still an exile. Yet he seemed markedly different. Was it the loss of Mary or had the years whittled away the ruthless edges?

Leading the man down the steps and through the wide yard, past the freshly hung wash, Jesse mustered up all the humanity he possessed. As they walked, he told of having plowed up the bones initially mistaken for Isaac’s. Jesse revealed, as kindheartedly as possible, all the upsetting circumstances surrounding Zeke’s shocking admission of guilt… then the sudden dismissal of evidence.

He felt wearied by the telling, but the father who had lost so much deserved some explanation. Daniel received the whole of the news at face value, which stunned Jesse further. This wasn’t at all the demeanor he’d expected. “I’m awful sorry to be the one to tell you. I did send a second letter, but you must not have gotten it. Seems you’ve made the trip here for nothin’.”

“No … no, I ‘spect that isn’t so.” Ichabod tilted his head, looking hard at Jesse. “What with my dear Mary passed on and all my kin settled round these parts, I might just like to … make amends.”

Jesse scratched his head. Was he hearing correctly? This was not the man he’d known. That man carried an enduring chip on his wide shoulders, ever seeking out conflict of some kind or another.

Aware of how distant they had become, Jesse asked how long he planned to stay in the area.

“Haven’t thought it all through yet, Preacher. But I want to see my son and daughter-in-law … and their youngsters. How many grandchildren do I have?”

267 “At last count, four.”

“I’ll be moseyin’ over there, then.”

It was urgent for Jesse to catch him up on Zeke’s fragile mental state, to say that his son was not presently living at home.

This news seemed to pain Ichabod, and he shook his head. “So much suffering in this old world, ain’t?” He removed his hat and pressed it against his chest. “I have something to tell you, Jesse. Something I’ve played and replayed in my head. You see, part of why I’ve come is to repent.”

Jesse shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hardly able to think, let alone speak. Who was this man?

“The Lord God has dealt bitterly with me.” The man bowed his head for a moment before raising it with a sigh. “I kept myself afar off, resisting the Almighty. I let my conceit rule me, livin’ for myself and breakin’ my Mary’s heart. Broke it clear in two … and then some.” He struggled to speak. “I did the unthinkable.”

Jesse was stunned, and when Daniel was finished confess’ ing his sin with another woman, Jesse placed a hand on his old friend’s shoulder and said, “So, then, will you be askin’ forgiveness of the brethren?”

“First you, Jesse … then all the ministers, and finally the membership.”

Moved now, Jesse extended the hand of fellowship. “I forgive you, Daniel.”

A palpable power gripped the two friends as they shook hands. “I was a sinner, ‘cept for the grace of our Lord.”

“As we all are.”

268 Jesse led him out to the paddock, where a thin haze hung near the ground as they walked and talked amidst the horses and mules, resuming their friendship. Jesse assured him that he would without question find mercy amongst the People. “‘Tis our way.”

They talked more of Zeke and Esther and the children, although Jesse said nothing of Esther’s shunning nor of Ben his claims, wanting to spare Daniel more grief just now. “I’ll see if I can’t get Zeke out to the work frolic later today … over at the bishop’s place.”

Daniel brightened. “Oh, that’d be just fine.” Right then and there, under the Lord God’s heavenly covering of clouds and sky, Jesse offered to have the man called Ichabod hang his hat at his house, to rest up a bit and share a hot meal before heading out to chop wood with the men. “Mighty kind of you, Preacher.” And Ichabod smiled.

Not accustomed to doing so, Jesse had thrown around the word preacher quite a lot in order to get one of Zeke’s several doctors to consent to a half-day pass. In the space of a few hours, from the time Ichabod had appeared on his doorstep till now, a whole group of hardworking men had gathered to cut wood at the home of their elderly bishop.

Jesse helped Zeke from the van, then paid their driver. Zeke’s face shown with appreciation as the men spotted him and began coming to greet him in clusters of threes and fours. In spite of all Zeke had been through, the men were enthusiastic to see him.

Thankfully so, thought Jesse.

Suddenly he noticed Ben over by a pile of uncut wood.

269 “Ach, of all the nerve,” Jesse muttered, guessing Moses must have let the cat out of the bag about today’s work. He hoped Ben would stay put behind the stand of trees, working a twoman saw with one of Jesse’s nephews. No need to spoil such a wonderfulgood thing as this, a man and his son reconciled on Amish soil. That is, if it didn’t backfire. Jesse prayed it wouldn’t.

Still observing Ben in the distance, Jesse let out a sigh. There was no point putting it off. Even if Moses couldn’t recognize Ben for the imposter he was, surely Daniel would. Despite the inconvenience of the whole thing, they could kill two birds with one stone be done with the whole foolishness.

Jesse led Zeke around the side of the house, on the lookout for Daniel, wondering if he’d arrived yet. Meanwhile, Zeke was thirsty; he’d like to get his hands wrapped around the well pump in the backyard.

Jesse walked with him to the well, hoping Daniel hadn’t changed his mind about coming.

Zeke finished wetting his whistle at the pump, wiped his face on his shirtsleeve, and looked up to see Jesse wearing a relieved look on his face. Zeke turned to see what on earth the preacher was staring at over yonder.

Squinting hard, he set his gaze on a man swinging his long arms, coming up the lane with a downright confident stride. The man seemed familiar somehow, and Zeke wondered why. Then he knew. Am I seeing things?

The man resembled his own father, or at least what Zeke recalled of the sternest man he’d ever known. Fact was,

270 there was a good measure of recognition in Preacher Jesse’s eyes, too.

Zeke let out a low groan. “Is that my oP Dat and if so, what’s he doin’ here?”

Jesse quickly explained about the letters he’d sent regarding Isaac’s remains. “He didn’t get the second letter from me, tellin’ him there was no need to come.”

Zeke’s father walked right up to them, and Zeke felt his intense gaze. No question, his father had recognized him, too, despite the passage of years. Zeke felt fireworks exploding in his chest.

Dat spoke first. “Zeke … son, mighty gut seem’ ya again.”

Zeke stepped back, eyeing his father warily. “Been a lot of years.”

“No doubt you’re surprised.” His father let out a nervous chuckle, extending his hand. “I’ve come to apologize, Zeke.”

He stared at his father, refusing the handshake, and an awkward moment passed.

“Son… I “

“No,” Zeke sputtered, coming uncorked. “You just listen to me. You’ve caused nothin’ but hardship my whole life long … even long after you up and hightailed it out of here.” Angry tears spilled down his face. He shook his head again and again, unable to control the resentment, the bottled rage. “Don’t ya see? This here’s a result of your scorn.” Zeke pounded his chest. “This … me.”

His father pursed his lips. “I did you wrong. I know this … and have no right to ask you for anything.”

Zeke frowned, somewhat taken aback. This wasn’t the

271 man he remembered. The father who had raised him would have lashed back with similar fury, raising his voice and hurling insults.

Dat extended his hand again. “I’ve come to see if you’ll receive me into the fellowship here, and perhaps someday … as your father.”

The older man fell silent, looking at Zeke with surprisingly tender eyes. Preacher Jesse said nothing as Zeke studied his father’s face. Those eyes … that face that had disapproved of him for countless months and years. All the memories of belittlement.

How can I forgive him?

Zeke looked down at his father’s outstretched hand, now trembling with the effort, and something within tugged at him. He was still that little boy who’d always longed for his father’s love and approval. And now … was his father truly offering it?

Zeke sighed and brushed his tears away. Irvin’s long talks had taken a foothold in his heart, preparing the soil for such a moment. He wasn’t the same man and, apparently, neither was his father.

It’s time, Zeke realized, as years of resentment suddenly gave way. Forgiveness broke loose within and he did the unthinkable: he reached for his father’s hand and gripped it. His entire soul shuddered, and he was instantly caught off guard, pulled forward into his father’s embrace.

Zeke could not resist, and he wept.

Moved by what he’d just witnessed, Jesse grunted his exit, leaving Zeke and Daniel alone to work things out

272 between them. Scratching his head, he wondered, Who would’ve thought? Daniel had been the harshest of men. A brutal father … absent in the flesh and otherwise, for sure and for certain.

Jesse smiled, almost wishing he might pat himself on the back for the part he’d played in this rather unplanned reunion.

The brethren would begin the process of bringing Daniel back into the fold. Such would take little time, as a sincere repentance on the part of the wayward one was the only requirement. Immediately following Daniel’s kneeling repentance, the People would receive him back, no questions asked.

Our way …

He chuckled, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder once again. But he could hear Daniel and Zeke talking quick-like now, catching up on all the years, no doubt. The sounds of a son granting his father forgiveness.