The Englisher (22 page)

Often he wished she might have spoken up even more, attempting to spare him numerous thrashings.
Just as Esther
does with our children
.

He was startled by this sudden realization. Yet he felt blinded, unable to escape the towering walls of his anger and condemnation, unable to fathom the freedom he longed for.

I’ll be fine when Esther’s home
.

More and more he did not trust himself alone in the house. Visions of the past came to him continually, small pieces of a haunting riddle. A clearer recollection forming with each new day: a deep hole, the shovel, Isaac leaning into the puppy’s grave, grieving mighty hard. . . .

There had been a deep black sky the night Zeke defied his father. The night when all of the years to come were forever altered. Only a distant yard light had broken the darkness, he recalled. Not a single streetlight shone the way to either the banks of Pequea Creek nor to farmer Fisher’s field. Zeke had used his flashlight, a gift from Uncle Moses on Zeke’s eighth birthday, to help him see to dig the hole. Or was it
two
holes? Jah, it was all becoming chillingly plain now.

Ichabod,
he thought and shuddered.

Chapter 18

A
nnie tromped quickly all the way out to the barn, scarcely able to wait till she could return to the cozy kitchen and help Mamm with Sunday breakfast.

Too cold for people,
she thought.

But it was Ben who was the person most on her mind today. More time than she cared to ponder had passed since her impulsive, though needful, good-bye. She couldn’t believe she’d left him sitting there, abruptly getting out of the car as she had. But what other choice had she?

Aside from her friendship with Louisa, she felt as if she were going through the motions of her life—no art and no Ben—whereas before she could skip through even the coldest day.

Nothing’s right with me now
.

While helping to put the milking machines on the cows, she overheard Daed talking to Yonie. ‘‘I picked up the wrong bridle rosettes by accident over at the tack shop.’’

Her pulse sped up. Lest she react too enthusiastically, she held back, ever so glad for Yonie’s apparent reluctance to make the exchange for their father.

She muffled her smile with her hand. Then, creeping out from between two cows, she stepped forward. ‘‘I have to go that way tomorrow, Daed,’’ she said. ‘‘I could return the rosettes if you want.’’

Her father brightened, shooing Yonie off. ‘‘That’d be right fine.’’

One for me,
she thought, not sure she ought to be keeping score, so to speak.

Right after the common meal, following Sunday Preaching, Jesse motioned to Barbara, and she hurried to get into the carriage for the ride over to Cousin Irvin’s place. The day had brought more snow, but it was tapering off now, and he could see the sky was clearing in the north. ‘‘We’re due for some sunshine,’’ he said to his wife, who sat to his left in the front seat.

‘‘I should say.’’ She leaned against him briefly.

‘‘Is there enough room in here to transport Esther and the children to Zeke’s?’’

Barbara nodded. ‘‘We’ll make do.’’

She wouldn’t question him on this, he knew. Barbara was nothing at all like Esther Hochstetler, who had a mind of her own.
Just as Annie does,
he thought.

Jesse was unwavering in his plan. He would not rehearse it again in his mind, as he had lost a good amount of sleep last night, deliberating over today’s visit to the Rancks on behalf of Zeke.

When they pulled into the drive, Barbara asked, ‘‘How is it Esther fled here?’’

‘‘I daresay Julia’s responsible for Esther’s temporary shunning . . . if you get my meaning. Too much worldly influence. Besides, Esther might’ve thought she had nowhere else to go.’’

‘‘But it’s not true.’’ Barbara pushed a stray hair back from her forehead. ‘‘I s’pose it’s time she got back under the covering of our brethren, jah?’’

‘‘Which is precisely why we’re here,’’ Jesse said as he tied up the horse.

They made their way toward the side of the house, Jesse steadying Barbara as they stepped carefully on the encrusted snow, icy in places.

‘‘Come in, come in,’’ said Irvin when he saw them at the door.

Soon, Julia was present, and she and Barbara went off together, arm in arm, into the front room.

Irvin and Jesse made the turn from the kitchen into the sunroom. ‘‘What brings you here?’’ asked Irvin. He was never one to mince words, Jesse recalled. If Irvin suspected an agenda, he wasted no time discussing the weather or anything else.

Jesse took the seat his cousin motioned to. ‘‘It’s time Esther goes home.’’

Irvin reached up and scratched his blond head. ‘‘I wouldn’t advise it, and I’ll tell you why.’’

Jesse had no interest in listening to his Mennonite relative expound on matters that pertained to the Amish fold. Still, he sat patiently.

‘‘Zeke’s in no way ready to resume his role as the head of his house’’ came Irvin’s definitive words.

‘‘Well, ready or not, I’m taking Esther and the children back today.’’ Jesse rose. ‘‘It’s out of your hands.’’ He might’ve added:
You had your opportunity and failed,
but he thought better of it.

Irvin got up quickly. ‘‘I say she stays here.’’

‘‘Say all ya want, Cousin. Truth is, Esther’s been gone long enough.’’

Irvin shook his head. ‘‘It’s a shame for a man to treat his wife as Zeke has . . . and will again, no doubt.’’

Jesse wasn’t interested in Irvin’s opinion. ‘‘Esther’s goin’ home. That’s all there is to it.’’

‘‘Well, why not leave it up to her? See how she feels about returning?’’

Jesse was irritated at the suggestion. ‘‘She’s exerted her will enough already. Esther has no say now. Go and have Julia get her ready.’’

Irvin pushed his hands into his pockets. ‘‘The children are all napping, so there must not be any loud talk.’’

‘‘So be it,’’ said Jesse, glad for no significant ruffle of wills thus far. Despite Irvin’s strong character and opinions, he was not a fighter. Not like Jesse, who still recalled the fuss between himself and Annie . . . over Yonie, of all things.

He assumed with his son well into courting age, Yonie would be settling down with a girl soon enough. He wouldn’t want to embarrass himself much longer at singings and whatnot. He’d be letting his hair grow out again like his counterparts—the ones headed for the kneeling vow, that is.

Irvin left the room, heading back to the kitchen to talk quietly with Julia.

Irvin’s young enough to be my son,
thought Jesse, hoping the rest of the afternoon would go off without a hitch. He heard multiple footsteps now, Barbara and Julia both going upstairs to get Esther.

Wandering into the kitchen, he was conscious of the peace of this house. He pulled down a small paper cup from a wall dispenser and drew water from the faucet, contemplating his earlier words.
It’s past time for Esther and Zeke to
reunite,
he reassured himself.

He went to the front room, and in a few minutes, here came Esther accompanied by Barbara and Julia. ‘‘Hullo, Preacher Zook,’’ said Esther, looking as though she’d just awakened. She held in her arms her infant, wrapped in a pink knitted blanket.

‘‘Barbara and I will help get you and the children home,’’ he said.

Esther glanced at Barbara and Julia, a worried look in her eyes. ‘‘Laura, Zach, and little John are sound asleep,’’ she replied.

It was Irvin who stepped in. ‘‘Why not wait awhile, Jesse?’’ Then, turning to Julia, he suggested, ‘‘How about some coffee, hon?’’

Julia nodded and quickly headed to the kitchen, followed by Barbara. Jesse wondered if Esther might go along with the women, too, and for a flicker of a second he saw by the angle of her head and the look in her eyes that she truly preferred to.

Sitting in the rocking chair instead, Esther held her baby close. ‘‘I’m not sure Zeke’s ready for us, Preacher,’’ she said, looking right at him.

‘‘Oh jah, he is.’’ He wouldn’t reveal that Zeke had come and demanded her return yesterday.

‘‘Well, what ’bout you, Irvin?’’ She turned her head and looked pleadingly. ‘‘What do you say?’’

Irvin glanced at Jesse and back at Esther. ‘‘From my discussions with Zeke, I’d say hold off. He’s not made much progress . . . and now, from what you’ve told us about his mother’s death, I just think it’s too soon. He’s irate and distressed. Unreasonable, too, in some of his remarks.’’

Esther’s eyes registered panic. ‘‘I have young children, Preacher. A nursing babe . . . two small boys. And . . . Laura is tenderhearted. It troubles her greatly when there is a noisy dispute in the house, or . . . worse.’’

There should be no disputing at all,
he thought. Truth be told, Esther seemed to have had too much say already. And looking at Irvin, Jesse wasn’t sure how to proceed without causing a squabble here and now.

‘‘Can’t I stay put?’’ Esther pleaded. ‘‘We—all of us—are safe . . . looked after here.’’

Jesse’s heart momentarily went out to her. Was he doing the right thing, passing her off from the Rancks to Zeke’s volatility? He looked at the sleeping babe; one small fist had managed to escape the blanket.
Lord God in heaven, am I
doing right by this family?

He felt strongly that Esther needed to be the submissive wife she was meant to be. But he also had a nagging feeling in his gut about sending her back prematurely. It was true; Zeke had seemed truly unstable at the news of his mother’s passing, angry at his father and at the world in general.

‘‘Just a few days more?’’ Esther entreated.

He spied the Holy Bible lying on the lamp table nearby and assumed Julia and Irvin had been filling Esther’s head with alien beliefs. Something clicked in him just then. ‘‘No, I daresay your time here has come and gone. Have Julia help you gather your things . . . and the children.’’

He did not want to be on hand to witness the removal of Zeke’s little ones from this house, their faces pink and their eyes glazed from a Sunday afternoon’s rest disturbed.

Excusing himself, he went outside to wait in the cold, breathing deeply, thinking about the cows waiting to be milked . . . and contemplating Zeke, too. But it was a waste of time to think too hard about Zeke Hochstetler. This would not be much of a reunion for the couple, not with Esther still under the probationary shun.

It remains to be seen how this will go,
he thought woefully.

He must not back down. Taking Esther home to the People was the right thing to do. If nothing else, it was high time for her to come back to the fold.

Fearful, Esther headed back to the attic room.
This is a
horrid thing
.

Even so, she began to awaken Laura, then Zach. Little John was always the hardest to rouse from slumber.

Turning, she saw Julia standing near. Barbara Zook had stayed downstairs, for which Esther was relieved. This way, she and Julia could have their parting words in private.

Julia offered to hold Essie Ann, and Esther continued patting her children to wakefulness.

‘‘You must remember what I’m going to say, Esther,’’ Julia said ever so softly, bending to kiss Essie Ann’s tiny forehead.

‘‘I must not hesitate to leave Zeke again . . . if need be. 212 Ain’t so?’’ Esther said.

‘‘Why, yes. No question on that. There is a shelter for women—and children—at the Water Street Mission, but it’s all the way in town . . . Lancaster.’’ Julia paused a moment, standing and swaying with the infant as she looked first at Essie Ann, then back to Esther. ‘‘That is, if you should feel uncomfortable, for whatever reason, returning here to Irvin and me.’’

Esther could read between the lines, and she was touched deeply by Julia’s thoughtfulness and compassion. ‘‘Jah . . . you’re most kind.’’

‘‘And . . . we mustn’t forget about the newly opened Green Pastures facility, run by Amish. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. I doubt, though, they have room for more than a few beds, but I can find out for you . . . just in case.’’

Esther recalled that following communion last fall, there had been a call for Amish house parents, after the main facility in Mt. Gretna first opened. Members of the Lancaster County Amish community had built the place, and it reflected their simple ways and cultural differences—no TVs or other modern amenities.

A helpful place for someone troubled like Zeke? Or is Julia
afraid I might be the one to crack up?
Esther wondered, feeling the tension in her jaw.
Why don’t I just stand up to Preacher
Jesse . . . tell him I’m staying on here?

She wanted to speak up more than anything, but sometimes she felt as if she were losing her ability to think clearly . . . to sort things out. In the past she
had
worried she might not be able to manage her domestic responsibilities alone. Yet while living with the Rancks she had sensed none of that hesitancy, not since opening her heart to the Lord.

So here I am heading back to a hornets’ nest. Is this the
Lord’s will for me?
She cringed at the thought of Zeke tormenting her with the stipulations of her shunning . . . how it would keep her from the family table and the marital bed unless she renounced her salvation.