Amish Outsider

by Marta Perry

  As for him—elation bubbled up in him. He had a job. He’d be bringing in a paycheck, doing work he loved for someone whose friendship had stood the test of time. What could be better?

  Cathy. He had to tell Cathy the good news. He took a step toward the house and then realized that Daad was standing a couple of feet behind him.

  “You heard? Jacob offered me a job.”

  “Yah. That’s gut. You and Jacob will work fine together. You always did.”

  He nodded, letting his mind drift back into the past. Jacob had been like a brother—closer than his own brothers, who were so much younger than he was. If he’d followed Jacob’s advice when they were teenagers...

  “It’ll be good to have a real job again. I’ll still help Aunt Verna and Lige, that’s certain sure.” He glanced toward the house. Cathy had come out with the two girls, and she stood talking to Verna.

  “Looks like Cathy is headed home. I should thank her for helping.”

  “Michael.” Something in Daad’s voice kept him from moving.

  “Yah?”

  “You’re wanting to tell Teacher Cathy your gut news, ain’t so?”

  He felt himself stiffening at the hint of disapproval in the question. “She’s been wonderful good with Allie. I think she’d like to hear it.”

  “I hear she’s a fine teacher. And everyone knows she has a generous heart, especially for the young ones.”

  Michael couldn’t help but feel Daad expected him to draw some sort of lesson from the words.

  “She is that. I don’t know how Allie would have settled down here if it hadn’t been for Cathy.”

  “You’ve seen a lot of her.”

  Now he knew what Daad meant, and he couldn’t say he liked it. “Because of Allie,” he said. “And since they’re close neighbors, she offered to take Allie back and forth to school. That’s all.”

  “No one would be surprised if a man grew fond of Teacher Cathy, seeing her so much.”

  “But I shouldn’t, that’s what you mean, isn’t it?” He felt the familiar spark of resistance at having Daad tell him what to do, even if it mirrored his own thoughts on the matter. And then, just as quickly, it was gone, leaving him feeling flat.

  He wasn’t a teenager any longer. He was a man who carried a load of trouble with him wherever he went. That load of trouble had a way of slipping over onto other people when they got close to him. He only had to look at the greenhouse to know that.

  Daad was still standing there. He waited with a lot more patience than Michael had ever known him to show while Michael found the answer for himself. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d grown and changed in the past ten years.

  “I know,” he said finally. “Teacher Cathy has risked her job, most likely, just through her kindness to Allie. I can’t let her risk anything else because of my actions.”

  “If you came back to the church...” Daad began.

  “I can’t. Not now. Maybe sometime, but not now. Don’t you see?” If only he could make his father understand, maybe it could close a bit more of the gap between them. “I’m not free of what happened to Diana. I don’t see how I can be unless someone finds out the truth of it.”

  He stared at his father for a long moment, trying to see some glimmer of understanding. Maybe it could never be there. Maybe... “Why don’t you ask me if I’m responsible for her death? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  A spasm of what could only be pain crossed his father’s face. “I don’t ask because I know that you are innocent of that, at least.”

  Michael closed his eyes for a moment, grappling with it. Daad trusted he wouldn’t kill, but there was still a qualification. As Daad saw it, he’d done plenty of other wrongs.

  Well, haven’t you? The voice of his conscience sounded remarkably like his father’s at the moment.

  Yah, he had. Not just things the church would call wrong, like driving a car and working on the Sabbath. Things he knew in his heart were wrong—not spending enough time with his daughter, failing to heal the breach between himself and Diana, letting his family think he was indifferent to them. And most of all, not loving Diana in a way that satisfied what she wanted from her life.

  Michael took a deep breath and squared his shoulders to support the weight of the burden he still had to bear.

  “The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt Cathy. I can’t let her care for me when I have nothing to offer but a ruined reputation and a child who needs to be my sole focus right now. But I can’t stop seeing Cathy because Allie needs her so much. It’s not easy to balance.” Ruefulness entered his voice on the final words.

  No, not easy. It might be the hardest thing he’d ever done, but somehow he had to bring it off.

  Slowly, very slowly, Daad reached out and clasped his shoulder in a strong grip. “You will try hard, yah? And trust God to handle the rest of it.”

  He couldn’t imagine that God would have much use for him after the mess he’d made of things. But if Daad could trust, he could try to do the same.

  “I’ll try.”

  His father nodded, and for an instant he thought he saw a sheen of tears in his eyes. He didn’t speak, just tightened his grip in a wordless gesture of support.

  “You’ll come to supper soon, you and Allie? It’s time you got to know your brothers again, ain’t so?”

  “We’d like that. Soon.”

  Several giant steps forward, he decided. But there was still a formidable obstacle between him and any kind of normal life.

  * * *

  “WHICH ONE DO you think?” Joanna held up two baby quilts, one with animal designs and one with flowers.

  “Take them both,” Cathy suggested. “They’re beautiful.” And melancholy for someone who had little hope of ever needing a crib quilt for a child of her own.

  She gave herself a mental shake. What was she doing? It was only since Michael had returned that she’d found she was mourning the future she didn’t have. Well, it was time to stop that nonsense. Michael might be attracted, but he was as well aware as she was of the impossibility of anything between them.

  “Cathy?” Joanna and Rachel were both staring at her. “What’s going on? I’ve answered you three times, but you were lost in a world of your own.”

  “Sorry.” She tried to smile, sure that her face was getting red. “I just thought of something.”

  “Must have been serious.” Joanna’s face was openly curious.

  She managed a laugh. “Just thinking that Rachel’s awfully happy about an evening out packing things for the Mud Sale.”

  It was Rachel’s turn to flush. “I am happy. I don’t have the exciting lives you two do—seeing people every day. Now that my brothers are mostly grown-up... Well, Daad isn’t much for talking.”

  Guilt pricked her. She shouldn’t have used Rachel as a distraction from her own troubles.

  Cathy gave her a quick hug. “Never mind. You can talk all you want to us. But if you think a roomful of schoolchildren makes for good conversation, you’d best think again.”

  “And you haven’t lived until you’ve tried to talk Emma King out of getting pale pink for a new dress. It’ll make her look like she faded in the wash, but there’s no convincing her.”

  Joanna could be counted on to come up with something to cover Cathy’s mistake. Though she’d probably demand answers later.

  “Anyway, to get back to work,” she went on, “I can’t carry everything in the store over to the sale. Some of the things I have on consignment are supposed to go, but some people wouldn’t think of it, even if it is for charity.”

  “What’s the money going to this year?” Cathy asked, putting quilted pot holders into a box. Joanna would know. She always knew what was going on in town.

  “Half to the volunteer fire department,” she said promptly. “And the other half is to be div
ided between the two Amish schools.”

  “Really?” Visions of new books danced in her mind. “The committee has never done that before. Why now?”

  Joanna smiled. “Well, I might have pointed out that without all the donations and work of the Amish, the sale wouldn’t be much of a success. And last year, they made a donation to the elementary school playground, which our kinder don’t even use. Someone might have mentioned that, too.”

  Cathy shook her head. “I never knew you were such a manipulator, Joanna. Don’t tell me your aunt knew about this, because I won’t believe it.”

  Joanna’s aunt Betsy lived with her in the apartment above the shop. That was the only way Joanna’s parents could ever be brought around to the idea of their daughter living there. But Aunt Betsy was busy with her own job at the bakery, and she spent more time out than in, as far as Cathy could tell.

  “Aunt Betsy is the ideal person to share an apartment with,” Joanna said. “We both want our freedom.”

  “I’m not sure I could live with any of my aunts. Mamm is more understanding than all of them put together.”

  “You’re blessed in that way,” Rachel said. “Even if things...” She let the sentence trail off, looking at Cathy and then as quickly turning away.

  “Even if what?” Cathy said. There was some meaning behind that quick glance, and she wanted to know what it was.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Rachel busied herself folding a quilt. “I was just talking.”

  Cathy and Joanna both advanced on her, and Joanna took the quilt from her hands and put it aside. “Komm, now. You think we don’t know when you’re hiding something?”

  “That’s right.” Cathy caught the hands Rachel extended as if to fend them off. “Talk. What is it?”

  Rachel’s soft eyes filled with tears. “Ach, Cathy, I don’t want to tell you. I was just so upset I couldn’t help myself.”

  Cathy felt her teasing smile freeze on her face. This was serious. It wasn’t one of their usual jokes. Rachel wouldn’t weep unless she was hurting.

  “Whatever it is, it’s best for Cathy to know,” Joanna said, her tone firm. “Just tell it. No one is blaming you.”

  Rachel wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands like a child. “I wasn’t meant to hear, I think. But I went out to the barn last night after supper, and I realized someone was there with Daad. He was telling him...”

  “Who was there?” Joanna clasped Rachel’s hand.

  The tears threatened again, but she blinked them back.

  “Zeb Stoltzfus.”

  Cathy’s heart sank. Mary Alice’s father wouldn’t have had anything good to say, she guessed.

  “It sounded as if he’d been going around trying to get people to talk to the school board members.” Her eyes avoided Cathy’s. “To make them decide not to renew Cathy’s contract.”

  “And he had exactly the right candidate in mind to replace her, I suppose.” Joanna was fuming. “Mary Alice, and she couldn’t teach her way out of a paper bag!”

  Cathy wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at her friend’s quick defense of her. “Now, Joanna, she’s not that bad. She needs training and supervision, but she might be a teacher one day.”

  “But not now.” Joanna’s anger wasn’t assuaged. “Of all the underhanded things to do. Zeb and Lizzie should be ashamed of themselves.”

  “They think they’re right.” Cathy could see that, even through her pain. “Did Zeb tell your daad why I should be let go?”

  “He... Well, first he talked about how the police had been at the school, and he didn’t like that.”

  “Cathy did exactly the right thing. Would he rather have the kinder in danger?” Joanna’s temper was a simmering kettle ready to boil over.

  “I know! I’m certain sure Cathy did the right thing, and I believe Daad thought so, too. But then Zeb started talking about...about Michael. And Allie. He said Allie was an Englischer and shouldn’t be in our school.”

  Cathy winced. Poor Allie. She was just finding a place to belong. Did they really want to take that away from her? Her resolve strengthened. If she wasn’t willing to fight back for herself, she ought to defend Allie.

  “That’s not all, is it?” She controlled herself with an effort. “He talked about me and Michael, didn’t he?”

  Rachel nodded. “He hinted mostly. But, Cathy, I’m so afraid folks might start to believe what Zeb and Lizzie are saying. We have to do something.”

  “What? What can anyone do?” She wanted to protest this injustice, but how could she protect herself against rumors? It seemed impossible, and if Allie were hurt by this, she’d never forgive herself.

  * * *

  MICHAEL MOVED ALONG the peak of the roof, ready to start another row of shingles. His first day on the job, and already he felt as if he’d been working with this crew his whole life.

  Maybe it was the product of the eighteen years he’d spent here before he’d run away. He’d grown up working alongside the others, with each year bringing a new job with greater responsibility. Amish boys learned how to work from working alongside someone—moving from carrying water to the workers, to fetching and carrying, to taking those steps toward doing a man’s job. There was no juggling for position or slacking off or feeling pride because you could do something a little better than the next man.

  Jacob moved up a row behind him, pausing long enough to grin at him. “Going okay?”

  “Great.”

  A sense of well-being washed over him. This is what he was meant to be doing. Jacob worked alongside his crew, something Michael had lost the chance to do in the outside world. There, he’d felt pressure to reach for more—bigger jobs, bigger crews, losing the pleasure of working with his hands in exchange for supervising others and making more money.

  Had it been worth it? Not in the long run. No matter how much he made, he hadn’t been able to keep Diana happy.

  Something flickered through his mind—an image of what his life would have been like now if he’d stayed here. He and Jacob had been the best of friends. They’d both enjoyed the same kind of work. Maybe they’d have been partners in a business like this one by now.

  “Finish up,” Jacob called. “Once we get it all under roof, we’ll knock off for the day.”

  Naturally they wouldn’t stop until that was done. Jacob had his standards, and Michael had already realized that despite Jacob’s soft-spoken way of managing the men, he expected the best. And he seemed to get it.

  Eventually they were off the roof and clearing up for the day. Jacob paused next to him. “So, got some sore muscles, ain’t so? I’d guess it’s been some time since you’ve put in a day like this.”

  “The day I can’t keep up with you, I’ll take to my bed,” he retorted and then grinned. “Maybe a little bit achy. I bet Aunt Verna has some liniment that’ll cure it.” Aunt Verna always had remedies for everything, most of them homemade.

  “Yah, I could use some. This has been a big job.” Jacob looked with satisfaction at the work. “And another one waiting—over at that fancy nursing home.”

  “Where Diana’s grandmother is?” Michael’s eyebrows lifted. He hadn’t imagined Jacob pulled in those kinds of jobs.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t run into her. We’ll be outside, not in.” He’d misinterpreted Michael’s remark, but it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t eager to run into the woman. Once had been enough, the time she’d warned him away from her granddaughter.

  “No problem. I...” He broke off, as the sense of something one of the other men was saying broke through to him.

  “...don’t know if it’s true or not, but that’s what I heard. A bunch of people are planning to get rid of the teacher at Creekside School.”

  Michael swung toward the voices. The speaker was Thomas Baylor...not someone he knew well, since Thomas lived at the far end of the county,
in a different church district. But he’d said Creekside.

  It must have registered with Jacob a second after it had with him. “What’s that you’re saying, Thomas?”

  Thomas was young, gangly, with an air of still growing into his work clothes. He flushed at the sudden attention from the boss.

  “I—I don’t know if it’s true. I just heard some talk at the lumberyard, that’s all.”

  “What kind of talk?” Michael took a stride toward him and was conscious of Jacob’s hand on his arm.

  Thomas kicked at the gravel, looking unhappy. “Didn’t mean anything much to me. I mean, it’s not my school. Or my church district. I didn’t think about it being yours, or I wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Take it easy, Thomas.” Jacob took over. “Tell us what you heard.”

  “Some guy was talking—Stoltzfus, it was. He said that the teacher had caused a lot of trouble and got herself talked about, and they couldn’t have that at the Amish school. So they figured to get her replaced. That’s all I know, honest.”

  “Yah, all right. Get loaded up, everyone. Time we were out of here.”

  When the men had scattered, Jacob gave Michael a wary look. “I heard Cathy’s been helping you with Allie. You want to talk about it?”

  “No.” He clipped off the word and then realized how it sounded. “I mean, not right now.”

  Not until he’d talked to Cathy. He saw it clearly, and he had no doubts at all. He’d brought this trouble on her. He had to tell her how sorry he was. And then he had to figure out a way of fixing this mess.

  Unfortunately, the opportunity to see Cathy didn’t come until well after supper. He was late getting home, and they were waiting supper for him. It was only when Aunt Verna swept Allie away for her bath that he’d been able to slip away.

  He approached the Brandt place by the trail through the woods, emerging into the area behind the barn. He and Cathy needed a private conversation, something that wouldn’t happen if he went to the house and asked for her.

  He was fortunate, it seemed. When he neared the barn he heard Cathy’s voice, crooning something softly to one of the horses, he supposed. He slipped in the back door, and she looked up, startled, when she heard it open and close.