by Ruth Price
“We should have a sing!” Rachel, a plump faced blonde who had just turned seventeen suggested. “Won't your mamm agree to chaperone?”
“My mamm has to take Sofia to Annie's to call the Englischer police,” Judith explained.
“Well someone should be able to supervise...what about Deacon Hilty?”
“With his wife seven months pregnant and a toddler at home?”
“Well, someone ought to supervise.”
The other girls echoed agreement. Judith said, “There isn't even any guarantee that Isaac would come.”
“You're always so practical,” Rachel said, her nose wrinkled and lips pursed in accusation. “God wants us to find ourselves husbands, that's the entire point of Rumspringa.”
“It's not the entire point,” Judith said.
“Well, we should ask Mr. Graber. Why else would he have brought his son along if not to introduce him to young women?” Rachel said, echoing Judith's previous thoughts on the subject. “Won't you come with me to ask?”
“I'll ask my mamm first,” Judith said. “It is her house. And we have Miriam and Mary.”
“They can join us. My little sister joins in for the sings all the time.”
To Judith's surprise, though it was last minute and a clear imposition, her mamm agreed to allow Judith to host the sing, provided she found someone to supervise. It’ll be good for you to have company tonight,” Esther said. “Else I'd just worry.”
“You don't think those men are going to come back, do you? I thought they gave up.”
“God will protect us,” Esther said. “Still, it's better not to leave you girls alone. I'll talk to the Bishop.”
Isaac caught up with Judith outside as she was organizing the bulk of the benches to be put back into the church wagon.
“Miss Hershberger?” he asked. They were hardly alone in the room, what with the three strapping men who were loading the benches into the truck, yet Judith's face warmed. Isaac said, “My daed says he's going to be supervising a sing tonight, after the fellowship.”
“Ja,” she said. “I hope it's not too much trouble for him.”
“My daed is thrilled. All he wants is for me to meet a nice Amish girl and settle down. I think he's afraid to let me out of his sight, after what happened with my older brother.”
“He left?”
“Luke and my daed...it was always difficult. They're cut too much from the same cloth, my mamm says. Daed wouldn't even receive him and his new wife for Christmas.”
“We all have the right to choose,” Judith said. “It's not a sin to choose a different path.”
“Not against the Ordnung,” Isaac said. “Your family seems much less rigid. I heard from one of the other boys, Caleb, that you're taking Englischer classes.”
“Ja. I like learning.”
“Is that why you have that shelf of Englischer books?”
For the briefest moment, Judith considered mentioning her dreams of college, but she hadn't even told her mamm of these inchoate ideas yet. Judith had no doubt it would be a blow to her mamm's heart, if Judith even hinted that she might be leaving, especially after Samuel's actions the night before. Judith said, “They were my daed's.”
At her expression, Isaac said, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”
“It was a long time ago, though my mamm hasn't remarried.” Esther claimed that she would be content for God to let her be with her husband in heaven. It was unusual to say the least for a woman to remain unmarried so long, with four kinner to boot, but Esther hadn't wavered in her mourning, though she did take care to have her brothers and their sons visit frequently, so that Samuel might have strong males to guide him in his life. “My mamm would like it best if we settled down here as well.”
“It must have been difficult, for all of you.”
A polite demur came naturally to Judith's lips: 'it's fine, we manage well enough with God's help and the strength of our community ties', and while these things were true, she saw in Isaac a sincere expression of sympathy, and she didn't want to dilute that with platitudes.
“It is difficult,” Judith said. “That's why I want to do something to change--well you can't change the past--but to help, I don't know.” Who was this Isaac, to have her stuttering and spilling her dreams like a fool? Maybe it was just that he was a stranger. Tomorrow, Isaac and his daed would return to Ephrata, hours away by buggy, and he'd settle down, marry a suitable woman, and have many beautiful children while Judith continued her life here. Yes, it was always safer to bare bits of one’s soul to a stranger. It only felt unusual because inside of her community, meeting a stranger was so rare.
“Judith!” Esther shouted from further inside the house.
“I'm sorry,” Judith said, wiping her hands on her apron again. “I didn't mean to ramble. And thank you for listening.”
“It was no trouble,” Isaac said with a nod. “I look forward to the sing.” He smiled, the softness in his eyes giving the simple expression a depth and affection that Judith knew had to be an illusion of the light.
Judith returned the smile a bit too brightly and then ran off, her stomach churning. Though they'd only exchanged a few words, she liked Isaac. She liked the sincerity of his questions and the way he seemed to truly, really listen. What if she told him of her dream to heal people with Englischer medicine? Would he look at her desire for education as a phase to be outgrown, or worse the unhealthy obsession of a girl who had witnessed tragedy and thus turned away from God? The only other person she'd told of her dream was Samuel, and even he, for all of his vague expressions of sympathy, hadn't truly understood.
Judith shrugged the thought away as she ran into the kitchen to help gather the rest of the food for after the sing. Isaac was handsome yes, and he seemed sincere, but they were strangers. She doubted he had the interest or inclination to take on her and her odd dreams. Someone like Rachel was certainly better suited to be Isaac's wife. The thought irritated Judith, and she made herself put the emotion aside. It was uncharitable to be angry that Isaac might find someone else better suited to him. If she had any pretensions of caring for the young man, she'd want the best for him. Jealousy was a form of pride, and while Judith knew her dreams might take her away from the path of an ordinary Amish woman, she still held Amish principles in her heart.
Still, it couldn't be a sin to hope that maybe, in spite of her own oddities, that Isaac might be interested just the same.
Chapter 2
Though the gentle rattle of Deacon Hilty's buggy was as familiar as any Isaac Graber had ever ridden in, he had never been so far from home. The car ride from Ephrata had been exhilarating, the hum of the motor and how the car whipped over the roads faster than a running dog or even the fastest horse at full trot. Had his daed Jacob not been speaking at this meeting, he certainly wouldn't have allowed his son exposure to such frivolities. Jacob preferred his wife and children to stay in sight, so that he might firmly guide them along God's true path. As such, though Isaac's mamm's quilting was the unrivaled best in the county, Jacob didn't allow his wife to sell her wares anywhere but at the closest local monthly market. While Rumspringa was a natural phase of Amish life, Jacob strove to keep his children close even then, enforcing strict curfews should they stay out overnight or even take work in town, insisting they take local apprenticeships else risk his cold, terrifying disapproval.
Isaac loved his daed and he certainly loved his life in Ephrata, but he felt Jacob took his strict interpretation of the Ordnung too far. It was what had driven Luke away. It was what had driven Isaac's next youngest sister Martha to marry as soon as she'd turned sixteen, simply to have the freedom to control her own house. Still, Isaac was glad of this trip, and he hoped that with Luke's departure this might be a sign that his daed was willing to loosen his iron grip, if only a little, so that there might be more comfort in their home.
Though the open window at the front of the buggy let in some air, it was hot in the back, and Isaac fanned himself with his
hand to try and get some relief from the heat. From what he could glimpse through the windows up front, the landscape wasn't much different from Ephrata. Fields lined both sides of the road. Though it had been stormy the night before, the sky was now clear, and the air sticky.
Jacob was involved in a low, intense conversation with Deacon Hilty who had opened his home to the travelers the night before. Normally, they'd have stayed at the house where the church meeting was going to be held, but Jacob had exclaimed, “She has no husband, and three daughters! That would be most improper, don't you think.”
The deacon's lips had twitched a bit at the comment, making Isaac like him instantly as the deacon had said, “There's no man, woman, or animal around these parts who'd doubt our Esther's virtue, or expect any man who tried to compromise it to come back with all parts intact.”
“Still...”
Now, once again, Jacob badgered the deacon about the family who would be hosting the meeting. “And their son, he's almost 22 and hasn't taken his kneeling vows?”
“We are a bit concerned, but God's way is patience,” the deacon said. “And his mamm hasn't objected. I suspect Esther doesn't want to drive the young man off.”
“Yes, well, a firm hand is what's needed, I think,” Jacob said. “My son here is well on track for a good and Godly life, that is certain.”
Isaac didn't like the way his daed pretended as though Luke's defection, as he termed it, didn't exist, but he knew better than to argue with his daed, especially in the presence of an outsider.
Jacob continued, “I'm hoping my Isaac takes a shine to one of the young ladies here, as he seems to feel it slim pickings at home.” He laughed, the movement shaking the crisp folds of his collar. “Though of course she'd have to live with us in Ephrata. A woman's place is with her husband, and besides, Isaac's due to inherit our land, considering the situation.”
The situation was the closest Jacob came to referring to Luke at all.
“Well, we do have some very solid and well-formed young ladies in our district,” the deacon said, proudly.
Isaac appreciated the sentiment, though in his deepest heart, the thought of solid and well-formed did little to move him.
“As long as these ladies are strong in their faith, I see no problems,” Jacob said. “Isn't that right, son?”
“Ja,” Isaac said.
When they arrived at the house, Jacob stepped out after Deacon Hilty. He took two steps then hesitated, his back tense, and Isaac followed, glancing around to see what had gotten his daed's temper up. Walking towards them the buggy was a young man and woman of Rumspringa age, the woman being half-lead, half-dragged by a preteen who kept jumping and speaking, his free had making wild gestures in the air.
For a moment, Isaac could only stare at the young woman in amazement. She walked, her skirts tied up at her knees, tall and sun kissed with a dirt stain on her plump cheek. She glanced at him, and Isaac's skin seemed to tingle as their gazes met. She was really charming, her face bathed in the sun beneath a slightly off-center, white kapp.
“That's Judith,” the deacon said. “Esther's daughter. It's unusual for her to be helping with the horses. For all of Samuel's wandering, he never misses a church meeting.”
“I suppose that speaks well for him,” Jacob said, but the severity of his expression softened when the boy ran to his side. They shared small talk, though Isaac hardly heard the words, being more interested in Judith. This girl was no wilting flower. She had a strong face that ran slightly too plump: full lips, large brown eyes framed by thick lashes.
Judith, for all her unusual role with the horses, was as demure in her behavior as even Jacob could wish, yielding to Caleb's suggestion that having Isaac help Judith with the horses would somehow be more improper than the time Caleb had been spending with the unattached young woman previously. It was obvious from how Caleb's eyes tracked Judith that his interest was more than fraternal. Isaac wondered if Judith returned the other man's regard, and he found himself hoping that Judith didn't.
Isaac took the bucket and joined Caleb at the waterspout. They worked in silence for a bit, Caleb pushing the spout, the muscles of his bare arms rippling in the sunlight. When the first bucket was filled, Isaac switched it out for the empty one. Joseph, the younger boy, kicked at the dirt for a bit, glancing between the two older boys, and then after the first bucket was filled asked, “What's it like being a traveling speaker with your daed?”
“This is the first time I've joined him outside of Ephrata,” Isaac said. “I think he wants me to meet other young people.”
“You'll do better to marry someone in your own district,” Caleb said, cutting straight to the point.
“I don't think it's just about marriage,” Isaac explained, hoping to diffuse the anger from Caleb's face. He wasn't here to make enemies, no matter how compelling his brief exposure to Judith had been.
“Caleb likes Judith, is all,” Joseph said, and Caleb paused in his pumping to smack the younger boy on the side of the head.
Joseph, clearly used to the behavior, just laughed. “I don't know why you're so wrapped up with Judith. She's only interested in those Englischer classes she's taking. Rachel, on the other hand, she's always sending around her mamm's baking.” Joseph smacked his lips together with a big grin. “Mmm...mmmm...”
“Shhh!” Caleb said. Then he looked at Isaac. “I haven't said anything to Judith yet. I want to wait until I've finished my apprenticeship, is all.” His speech pattern was an echo of his brother's.
“So Judith doesn't know you want to court her?”
Joseph laughed. “Caleb's shy. He's been sweet on Judith since they were kinner. He'd pull her braids at recess and run away. Don't know why he likes her so much. I mean, Judith's nice, but she's way too serious.”
“That's just because her daed died,” Caleb said. “Judith was there. He just collapsed in the fields.”
“Dear God!” Isaac exclaimed.
Caleb nodded. “It was tough for all of them, though it'd be better of her mamm had remarried. Then Samuel wouldn't be running so wild, that's what my daed says.”
Another horse and buggy arrived, and the conversation drifted onto other topics as they made quick work of taking care of the horses. Later, instead of giving the church service the full attention it deserved, Isaac found himself stealing glances at Judith, who seemed to spend most of the service whispering to another plain clothed girl who nodded occasionally.
“She's Englischer,” Joseph whispered, mistaking Isaac's attention. “Her name's Sofia and Joseph heard from Sweet Potato that Sofia's lost her memories and was being chased down by Englischer criminals, but Esther scared them off.”
The entire story was far too tangled for Isaac to work out. “What?”
“Sweet Potato is Judith's little sister. Second youngest. The youngest is Mary.”
Isaac blinked, then ventured a question, “How did Esther scare them off?”
Joseph shrugged.
Isaac's daed was called forward to speak before Isaac could manage to clarify any of the details.
After the service, Isaac stuck with the other young men as was proper. They stood in the shade of two buggies, lined up along the side of the driveway. Isaac unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up of his church shirt to try and cool off. Most of the others did the same. They asked Isaac dozens of questions about Ephrata, which he did his best to answer. He mentioned his carpentry apprenticeship, and a few of the boys nodded.
A tall, muscular eighteen-year-old who went by Beanie, as he and three of the other boys were named Abraham, said, “Rachel's looking very fine today, isn't she?”
And so the discussion moved to the sing and the various girls and who which boy fancied. Rachel was very popular, with her lovely curves that were visible even through the severe cuts of the plain dresses, as was an older, dark haired girl with brown eyes that resembled a doe. Her name was Hannah but she was generally referred to as Fawn. “Fawn's sweet on
John,” Beanie declared, elbowing a short, stocky blond boy in the ribs. The boy's face turned bright red and he looked down at his church shoes.
“They'll be married soon enough,” Beanie said. “If a dashing visitor doesn't try to sweep her away.”
“I'm not sweeping anyone, anywhere,” Isaac said, waving his hands in front of himself, palms out to emphasize his point.
“You have a girl in Ephrata then,” Beanie said knowingly. “What's she like? Can she cook?”
“I'm not courting anyone,” Isaac said. “I've got an apprenticeship that takes up most of my time.”
“You can't say you don't like any of our girls!” Beanie exclaimed. “Didn't get a good look across the aisle, I take it.”
“I've only talked for any length with Judith.”
“Judith,” Beanie waved his hand dismissively. “She's pretty enough, but she's got eyes only for books. Besides, with what happened to her daed, and her mamm being so stubborn...and her brother. Six years on Rumspringa!”
“What does that matter?” Isaac said, a coal of indignation smoldering in his breast. “It's not her fault her daed died. Or for what her brother does.”
“Judith would make for a great teacher,” John cut in. “She's just...not so interested in marriage or kinner I think.”
Isaac found the other boys' casual dismissal of Judith to be upsetting. He'd only spent a brief time with her, but he'd found her pretty, and more importantly, interesting. She had a quiet confidence that Isaac admired. He wanted to talk to her more, see if he could tease a smile from her serious expression.
