Mamm held out the plates. “Do eat all you want. I have plenty where that came from.”
“Do I get some?” Daett teased, and they all laughed.
“Of course!” Mamm joined in the laughter. “And I’ll be right back with glasses of milk.”
Ben watched Mamm leave and return moments later with Daett’s pie and the milk glasses on a tray. No one offered him pie, but Mamm knew he wouldn’t be able to eat any.
He did miss church, Ben thought, his mind going back to the prior conversation. But what he missed worse was seeing Katie. She was more and more in his thoughts of late. Katie was even drifting in and out of his dreams. His recent illness had made things even worse. He would almost declare at times that Katie had been near him during his delirium, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Katie had come once to accept his apology, but she wouldn’t have come again.
Still, he thought he’d heard her voice. The sound had seemed to fall in and out of his hearing like waves of the ocean ebbing and flowing over his soul. He had called to her, reaching out for her with all his might, but nothing on his body had moved. And his voice didn’t escape his mouth. He’d mentioned hearing Katie while he’d been in and out of consciousness to his mamm after he felt better, but Mamm had just given him a weary smile. She probably thought he was losing his mind thinking such things.
Now the voice of Bishop Miller jerked Ben out of his thoughts. When he forced himself to focus, the bishop was in the middle of saying something to Daett, and he’d only caught the last words: “Yah, perhaps there will be rain tomorrow.”
Daett smiled briefly. “The threshing crew will make much better progress this fall if we don’t have a wet one.”
“They’ll be at my place next Thursday,” Deacon Elmer offered. “It’s a pretty good crew this year, if I must say so myself.”
“That’s because you’re on it,” Bishop Miller said with a laugh.
Daett smiled. “One of these days an old man like you will have to find easier things to work on.”
“When I can’t totter to the barn, then I’ll stay off the threshing crew,” Deacon Elmer declared.
Ben felt a smile creep across his face. Deacon Elmer’s determination to hang tough on his threshing-crew spot was a well-known story in the community. One which everyone played along with, likely because they hoped to earn an easier handling when it came time for Deacon Elmer to call at their places on Saturday afternoons. But Deacon Elmer was a jolly man in his own right and easy to befriend. A strange characteristic for a man who often had difficult calls to make for the church. But then a man’s calling wasn’t of his own choosing. Da Hah made that choice by use of the lot. At least that was how Ben had been taught. Recently he hadn’t spent much time questioning his faith. He’d made a pretty decent mess of his life without adding unbelief to his list of sins.
Deacon Elmer put aside his empty plate. “Well, we’re taking up these people’s time on a sunny afternoon, so why don’t we begin?”
“Yah, I agree.” Bishop Miller set his empty plate on the floor. “Let us pray.”
They all bowed their heads as Bishop Miller led out. “Now dear Hah in heaven, we come again at this hour to ask Your guidance. Give us grace. Give us wisdom on how to say what needs saying. And give us all tender hearts to respond to Your will. Amen.”
“Amen,” Deacon Elmer echoed.
“You go on.” Bishop Miller nodded toward Deacon Elmer. “I’ll join in if something else needs saying.”
Deacon Elmer looked down for a moment before he began. “There have been quite a few complaints among the community concerning what has been happening in your life, Ben. We all know, of course, about your arrest and imprisonment.”
“I deeply regret my past actions,” Ben said. “I’ve asked Da Hah and my family for their forgiveness.”
With a nod, Deacon Elmer continued. “We wish to express our heartfelt sympathy for your recent illness, and even for the time you spent in jail. But you must realize that the way of the transgressor is hard, and that Da Hah will not be mocked. What a man sows, he will also surely reap. This the Scriptures teach most clearly.” Deacon Elmer looked directly at Ben.
Ben nodded. He didn’t disagree with any of this, but he knew there was more to come. There had to be.
Apparently satisfied with his reaction, Deacon Elmer continued. “We know you’ve repented of your involvement in illegal drugs and suffered the Englisha punishment for your involvement. You say you’ve repented before Da Hah, and that’s gut. Ben, there’s another issue to consider. A year ago you testified against others, which resulted in heavy jail sentences for them and a lighter one for you. Is that true?”
Ben nodded again.
Deacon Elmer frowned. “Testifying against someone is not our way, Ben. How did you get involved in such a deal? In placing your welfare before others? That is not what we believe. We are to reach out to those who do wrong so we can draw them to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. We are to love those who hate us and do us ill, just as we are to love those who are dear to our hearts.”
“I didn’t plan things to turn out the way they did,” Ben said. “I knew my actions were wrong, and in my repentance and sorrow, I wanted to confess what I’d done. I was lost and confused and didn’t seek godly counsel. And for that I am sorry. I was wrong in so many things back then. But I’ve changed. I want to embrace the Amish faith and ways.”
Neither of them looked convinced.
Bishop Miller took over. “And now we hear that you are being asked to once again testify. Is this true also?”
Ben looked at both Bishop Miller and Deacon Elmer before answering. “Yah, that is true, but I’ve told the detectives I wouldn’t testify because it’s not the way of the Amish.”
“Did you perhaps protest the last time also, but you eventually gave in?” Deacon Elmer asked. “You’ve known how we feel about such things.”
Bishop Miller didn’t wait for Ben to answer. “This testifying cannot be allowed, Ben.” His voice was firm. “Our beliefs should not be disgraced in this way. To have done this once is bad enough. Our testimony is to be held up like a light on a hill for all to see. That is not happening in your situation. We must forbid you to testify if you want to continue to be part of our community, Ben.”
Ben nodded. “I understand. I have already decided not to testify, and I will keep to that decision to uphold our ways.”
Deacon Elmer took a deep breath. “We are thankful to hear this, Ben. But we believe we must take further measures in light of what you’ve done in the past and until this trial has finished. We know these detectives won’t be easily turned aside and the Englisha have many legal rules. We are asking you to voluntarily leave the community for a time, Ben. Even going to your grandparents’ place isn’t gut enough now. When the flock of Da Hah is in danger, we must not think of ourselves. As shepherds we must do what we can to keep everyone safe.”
Ben winced. “Even if I promise not to testify?”
Deacon Elmer looked out the window for a second before looking back to Ben. “We wish this could be otherwise. And we don’t want to doubt you, but you have testified in the past and brought danger to our community. We will continue to pray for you, of course. There is also another matter we considered.” The deacon paused and looked at Bishop Miller.
“I thought so.” Ben cut in as he leaned back against the couch. “Perhaps you’d better tell me everything now instead of beating around the bush.” From the corner of his eye, Ben noticed that his daett had turned pale. Ben realized he’d broken one of his daett’s primary rules: “Act humble and don’t talk back.” He looked away. He might have spoken out of order, but his head was pounding and he wanted to know the rest—he needed to know. His thoughts went to Katie. Was she the “other matter”?
“There is…” Bishop Miller hesitated. “There is the matter of Katie Raber.”
“What has she to do with any of this?” Ben asked.
Bishop Miller held up his hand. “Let me finish
, Ben. It is known that Katie spent the night with you at the hospital recently.”
Mamm gasped and Daett sat up straight. Concern was etched on both their faces.
Sympathy crossed Bishop Miller’s face, but he continued. “I know what your parents said at church on Sunday. And I don’t say that we doubt their story, but there is also another version of what happened that we’ve heard.”
Ben was confused. “You’ll have to explain this to me. Katie came to see me, yah. She came with her brother Willis when I was first shot. I sent a message to her, asking her to come so I could say I was sorry in person. But she did not stay long, much less overnight.”
Bishop Miller looked at Ben’s daett and then his mamm.
“Bishop Miller, Ben wasn’t awake when Katie came to the hospital the second time. He was delirious from the infection. He called repeatedly for her, and when we thought he might die, we hoped Katie’s presence would help him find the courage to fight to get well. Leon went to the schoolhouse and asked Katie to come. And she agreed—which helped Ben recover! But let me say at once that Katie did not spend the night in Ben’s room. She slept in the waiting room. She insisted on that. Even when I offered the chair next to mine in Ben’s room, she wanted to make sure there would be no misunderstanding with Ben or the community.”
“And Ben was unconscious the whole time Katie was present,” Daett added. “We weren’t even sure if Ben could hear her voice or if he knew she was present.”
“That’s very helpful to know,” Deacon Elmer said. “Still it wasn’t decent, if you ask me. Even under the special circumstances. Katie is a church member in gut standing, and she shouldn’t have gone to speak with Ben.”
“Then it was our fault,” Leon stated. “Ben was calling for Katie, and we hoped she’d help him want to live. You shouldn’t blame Katie. She came very reluctantly. I’m sorry if we did something you consider wrong, but Ben’s life was in danger, and we thought anything that might help should be tried.”
Bishop Miller held up his hand. “Then we will say no more about the matter.”
Ben stared at everyone. He moaned as he held his head. “I’m not sure I understand. Katie spent the night at the hospital?”
“Ben knew nothing of Katie’s visit,” Mamm repeated, choking back a sob. “That is why he’s having such a hard time understanding this.”
“I see.” Bishop Miller stroked his beard and looked perplexed. “We just want to protect a church member from any danger. This new knowledge adds further confusion to the matter. Even though the situation is innocent enough when it’s told in detail, many people won’t hear the entire story. Considering the current circumstances, I believe it best if Ben still separate from the community until his legal issues are cleared up and he chooses to set things right with the community and church.”
“Then I will leave when I’m well enough to travel.” Ben stood up, still holding his head and swaying slightly. “Early next week, perhaps.”
“Where will he go?” Mamm wailed to the bishop. “He’s our son.”
“I can find a place in town,” Ben responded.
“I’m sorry this has to happen like this, Ben.” Bishop Miller reached over and placed his hand on Ben’s shoulder to steady him.
“I understand,” Ben said. “I’m not feeling well, and I need to lie down. I will do as you ask.” He turned and made his way to the staircase. He felt his way up the stairs, taking each step slowly and carefully. Heavy silence hung over the living room. They can straighten out the details themselves, Ben figured. He wasn’t going to make any more trouble for Katie, but hearing that she’d been at the hospital when he was delirious was turning his world upside down. She cared enough to come! It was her voice he’d heard! Did that mean she possibly still cared for him? That couldn’t be, could it? Not after what he’d done.
Ben finally made it to the top of the stairs and turned into his room. He held his head as he gently sat down on his bed and then gingerly laid back and swung his legs up.
Chapter Seventeen
Ben packed the last of his clothes in a suitcase on the following Thursday morning, stuffing in one last shirt before closing the lid. Mamm was waiting in the living room downstairs, her face still tear-stained. She was ready to drive him to his new apartment in town. Daett had been nice enough to find a place for him and pay the first two months rent. Ben assured his daett he’d be back on his feet and working by then, able to pay his own way. He wouldn’t and couldn’t work for the Amish carpenter crew again. Not just because of his jail record, but because of the church troubles. Deacon Elmer had been over on Tuesday night, checking up on things. He’d made it clear to Ben’s daett that the ministry hadn’t changed their minds about Ben. After all, something needed to be done because of the uproar he’d caused. The community wouldn’t rest unless they knew their leaders were taking a strong stand.
Ben now realized that Enos Kuntz was behind most of the effort. After the ministers’ Saturday visit, this knowledge had fallen into place. Katie had been dating Enos’s son, Norman. That much Ben had known, but he hadn’t known that Norman had quit dating Katie because she’d come to the hospital to see him. At that news, Ben had wanted to rush over to Katie’s house. Hope had risen strong. Would Katie consider a renewal of their relationship now that Norman was out of the way? But when he’d asked Mamm about it, she’d thought otherwise.
“Katie’s heart is still torn,” Mamm informed him. “She came to the hospital out of Christian duty. In fact, Katie requested that if you didn’t remember she was there, you not be told.”
Ben was sure Katie knew that request couldn’t be kept, especially considering how everyone in the community eventually heard about everything. But it showed where Katie’s heart was. She didn’t consider a full healing of what had been lost possible—and she was probably right. Nothing could ever be the same. Ben paused. At the very least, he should thank her. But how? Going over to her house was out of the question. Grabbing a pen and paper from his dresser, he jotted down his thoughts:
Hi, Katie. Please hear me out. I don’t know what to say or how to say it, but I’ll try. First, thanks so very much for coming down to the hospital that night I was so sick. I just found out today that you came! I can tell Mamm thinks most of the credit for my being alive belongs to you. And you obviously didn’t expect any benefit. It shows how great and beautiful your spirit is.
I’ve heard you lost your boyfriend over that visit. I’m sorry about that—and about a hundred other things I did wrong. I know there’s no hope of ever healing the hurt between us. I don’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve someone like me. I had so much with you, and I lost it through my own foolishness.
Perhaps you won’t believe me, but I need to say this anyway. I wanted to tell you while we were together, but then I’d have to explain, and I thought I could just quit and no one would ever know. Katie, you were the reason I wanted to leave the secret life I’d been living. At the time of my arrest, I had quit working for Rogge for several weeks. I know that’s small comfort. Thank you for helping me do it though.
You touch people’s lives for the better, Katie. I hope you never doubt that. I hope Da Hah uses you to touch many more people in the world for His good. I’m one of those you’ve helped, and I will forever be the better for it. May you have a fulfilling life, Katie.
Thank you again,
Ben
Ben folded the paper, pushed it inside an envelope, and sealed it. There! he thought. He felt much better. This wouldn’t do any good other than perhaps encourage Katie while she went through this troubling time, but at least it was something. This much, at the very least, he owed her. He went down the stairs dragging the suitcase.
Mamm rose when he entered the living room, attempting a smile. “So you’re all ready and packed?”
“Yah.”
“Will we be seeing much of you?” Mamm asked, her eyes glistening.
“I’ll come home when I can,” Ben said softly. “But I
don’t have a place in town to keep Longstreet or a buggy.”
Mamm hugged him. “It’s not that far, Ben. Your daett and I can drive in to visit every once in awhile.”
Mamm was grasping at straws, but they both knew that the Amish who were asked to leave the community rarely came back.
“Shall I get the horse and buggy ready?”
Mamm nodded. “Yah, and I’ll be out to help hitch up. I think your daett has Longstreet harnessed in his stall.”
Brenda came out to the kitchen and gave Ben a tight hug. “You take care of yourself now.”
“I will.” Ben’s smile was weak as he gave his sister a kiss on the cheek.
He turned, opened the front door, stepped through it with his suitcase, and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the buggy and slid the suitcase under the backseat. Going into the barn, he led Longstreet out and to the buggy. Mamm was waiting, holding the buggy shafts up so he could maneuver Longstreet into place.
When they finished hitching, Mamm climbed in, and Ben threw her the lines. Once he was on the seat beside her, Ben took the reins. Waving to Brenda standing by the livingroom window, Ben turned Longstreet down the drive. He could tell Brenda was crying. His own eyes were dry, but he knew the tears would come tonight when no one was around. This was a lot more difficult than he’d anticipated.
Mamm and son rode silently, listening to Longstreet’s hooves beat a steady tattoo on the blacktop.
Mamm broke through Ben’s thoughts. “Perhaps the ministers will change their minds. You know they do sometimes, and then you could come back home.”
Ben shook his head. “It’s not going to happen, Mamm. You know that. We’ll have to see how things go with the Englisha police and court before we can cross that bridge. And there’s Katie, of course. My staying away should make her life much easier. I don’t want to make more trouble for her.”
Mamm wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry about you and Katie, Ben. She’s a jewel. She’ll make someone a very gut frau someday.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. I know what I lost.”
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