Katie's Forever Promise

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Katie stepped closer to hold Mabel’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. I never thought things would go this far.”

  “Neither did I.” Mabel was staring out of the window. “Daett will be ready to go in a few moments. I want you to come with us, Katie. To stay with me while Daett talks with Norman.”

  “But…Mabel…Norman doesn’t like me. What good can I possibly do?” Katie asked, her heart racing.

  A slight smile played on Mabel’s face. “You’re wise in ways I’m not. It would be a comfort if you came along. Would you come just for that reason?”

  Please do! Mamm mouthed from the other side of Mabel.

  Katie nodded even though her heart sank at the idea of facing Norman. He would have nothing but scorn for her very presence.

  “Come.” Mabel pulled on Katie’s hand. “Get your coat. I’m sure Daett is ready to leave by now.”

  Mamm dashed to the closet for Katie’s coat and handed it to her. “Da Hah go with both of you. I hope Jesse is making the right decision.”

  “He is.” Mabel’s face was set as they went out the front door. “Because what I’m doing sure isn’t working.”

  Jesse had his horse hitched by the time they arrived at Norman’s buggy. He untied Bonnie and threw in the lines when both women had climbed up. Mabel took them and waited until Jesse had driven forward, before following.

  “How bad is it?” Kate asked, stealing a glance at Mabel. She remembered the rage on Norman’s face that long-ago night when he’d said he didn’t want to see her anymore. She couldn’t imagine facing that repeatedly. How in the world was Mabel managing?

  Mabel whimpered as if she had heard the question. “Frightening…terrorizing. Tiptoeing around the house. I’ve had enough of it. I’m not going to live like that anymore!”

  “You’re leaving him?”

  “Nee, our people aren’t like that, you know, and neither am I. I wouldn’t so disgrace Daett. But something will have to change.”

  “And what can Daett do about it? That family…”

  “I told Mamm the real reason why we didn’t come to breakfast today.” Tears were running again. “I was trying not to provoke Norman. But it did no gut. He wanted me to say what a lousy Christmas program you had put on at the school, Katie. When I wouldn’t, he came after me. I fell over the kitchen chair, and he used his foot on me. So we didn’t go to his parents’ place either this morning. I locked myself in the bedroom until he cooled down. Then I came over here.”

  “Oh, Mabel!” Katie could picture Norman angry, but not what Mabel was describing. None of their people acted like this. At least not that she’d ever heard of.

  “He’s always sorry afterward.” Mabel choked back a sob. “And I suppose Norman thinks I’ve just gone home to cry on Daett’s shoulder. That idea doesn’t bother him too much. It seems to make him feel less guilty now, I think, if someone knows what’s going on.”

  They drove in silence, with Katie looking out over the open fields at the freshly fallen snow. Da Hah’s world was so clean, so white, so washed of dirt, and yet inside the hearts of men and women such awful things dwelled. It was a mystery really, and Katie shivered.

  Mabel followed Jesse into the driveway of the small farm she and Norman had purchased. Jesse stopped by the barn and jumped out to tie his horse. He came over to Norman’s buggy. “Do you want to come in with me, Mabel?”

  “Nee, I’ll wait with Katie.”

  “It’s just as well,” Jesse said. He then went up the porch and into the house without knocking. Katie saw no sign of Norman through the living room window, but Jesse would find him. He was probably hiding in the basement in shame. And he should be ashamed.

  Katie kept her eyes on the house as long moments past. At least there was no shouting coming from inside, so Jesse was controlling his anger. Though Norman was getting the full load, unless she missed her guess.

  Mabel began to fidget when the front door opened and both Jesse and Norman came out. Neither of them said a word to the women. They marched to Jesse’s buggy and got in. Jesse turned the horse and buggy around, and they drove down the driveway.

  “I wonder where they’re going?” Mabel asked, craning her neck to watch the retreating buggy.

  “Norman looks like he’s seen a ghost,” Katie said much too gleefully, she knew, but she couldn’t help it.

  “He’s a coward at heart, Katie. He can only handle defenseless woman.” Mabel got out of the buggy, and Katie followed to help her unhitch Bonnie. Mabel was trembling by the time they had Bonnie in the barn, and Katie took her arm to lead her sister into the house. Once inside, Katie seated Mabel on a kitchen chair and asked. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

  Mabel shook her head. “There wasn’t time. And I didn’t feel like it, anyway.”

  “Then you sit right there while I fix you something.”

  Mabel grunted a protest, but stayed seated while Katie fixed bacon, eggs, and toast. As the bacon was frying, Katie added pancakes to the list. She might as well go all out, and give Mabel some semblance of a proper Christmas breakfast.

  When the food was ready, Mabel ate without speaking, still fighting tears. They didn’t even bother with praying over the food. There were other things which needed prayer much more right now. Like Jesse and Norman—wherever they were. And for the success of Jesse’s mission—whatever that was.

  “You are too kind to me.” Mabel broke into sobs when she finished eating. “And after all the nasty things I’ve said about you.”

  “It’s okay.” Katie led Mabel to the couch and wrapped a blanket around her. “Where’s the furnace? In the basement?” The house seemed cold for some reason. Neither Norman nor Mabel must have been paying attention to the fire all morning.

  “Yah…the basement.” Mabel pointed. “There’s fresh wood, I think. I saw Norman stock a supply before the snow began.”

  Katie found the basement door, and at the bottom of the steps the furnace seated off to the side. The fire was almost out, but the furnace still had enough coals to get things going again. When she finished and went upstairs, Jesse’s buggy was pulling into the driveway. After watching the two get out of the buggy and Jesse tie up the horse, Katie made a rush for the front door and opened it for them.

  Norman wasn’t looking at her—or much else for that matter. He still looked quite pale.

  “Bishop Miller’s frau will be over to fix supper for you,” Jesse told Mabel. “And none of this will be happening again. Bishop Miller and Laura will be checking in on you.” Jesse paused then added, “Often!”

  “Thank you, Daett.” Mabel grabbed Jesse and hung on to his neck until he loosened his daughter’s hold.

  “Just listen to what Laura tells you,” Jesse said. “Bishop Miller will deal with Norman, but you are not to hide anything from now on. Laura is going to stop by at least once a week, maybe more than that. And you are to tell her everything, Mabel. Laura will check your story if she has to. Do you understand, Mabel?”

  Mabel nodded.

  Jesse turned to Norman, but he said nothing. Then Jesse said to Katie, “It’s time we went home, Katie.”

  As they climbed into the buggy, Katie asked, “So you went to Bishop Miller’s?”

  “Yah.” Jesse slapped the reins and offered Katie nothing more.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Three weeks after New Year’s Day, on a cold Tuesday morning, Katie drove toward Dover. Joel had begged to ride along this morning since he was off from school, but with where she was going, that was impossible.

  Katie let her mind drift to thoughts of Ruth Gingerich. The woman had fallen on an ice patch outside the schoolhouse door last week and fractured her hip. That was a tragedy indeed, and now the school was without a teacher. It served Enos Kuntz right, Katie thought, having to scurry around the community to find a replacement. Obviously Enos was having trouble finding one on such short notice or school would already be in session again.

  Katie pushed thoughts of Enos and teaching
from her mind as she approached the white-pillared porch of the Kent County Courthouse. There were more important things on her mind this morning. Ahead of her someone had scraped the wide steps free of snow from the last snowstorm and salted them. There hadn’t been a thaw since Christmas, with winter dragging on. Like my life, Katie thought. She shouldn’t even be here really. But how could things get much worse? So here she was, coming in to see how Ben’s appearance in court went. Not seeing Ben in so long had torn at her heart. So when she ran into Ben’s mamm, Lavina, at Byler’s last week, the words had just come out. “When will the trial start that Ben’s supposed to testify at?”

  “Next week,” Lavina had said. “And Ben’s testimony is scheduled for the second day.”

  “Are you going?”

  Lavina shook her head. “Ben asked us not to come.”

  It made her feel better in a way that Ben was also keeping his parents at a distance. It meant she wasn’t the only loved one who was being kept from his life. Ben must wish to spare all of them the shame of former actions and his current ordeal.

  And fresh shame would come indeed, if Ben returned to prison. Enos would see to it that people were reminded that Ben was only suffering for the sins he’d committed in the past. And no honor was in order for willingly accepting ill that came from one’s wrongs.

  Katie had decided she wanted to be here to share in Ben’s shame if necessary. Weren’t Mamm and Jesse standing with her in the shame she’d brought on the family? The first Sunday after the Christmas break when school began again hadn’t been a pleasant experience. Whispers among the women stopped when she walked up and began again when she walked past.

  All that had stopped last Sunday, though, when Norman gave his confession in front of everyone after the church service. Bishop Miller asked all the church members to stay behind, and then stood to announce that one of the members had been found in grievous sin for abusing his wife. “One is to love one’s wife, even as Christ loved the church and gave Himself for her,” Bishop Miller had said. “While women are to give in to their husband’s leadership, just as the church gives in to Christ, the husband is also instructed to cherish and love his wife. We will not have husbands abusing their wives in this community. I will not tolerate such sin and will deal harshly with any such cases. So this morning brother Norman will give us his heartfelt confession, asking forgiveness from both Da Hah and his church. My frau, Laura, will be keeping in touch with Mabel on a weekly basis, and I will be speaking with Norman and praying with him at those times also. If this does not stop the sinful actions, further measures will be taken.”

  The room had been silent when Bishop Miller finished. No one doubted the bishop’s word, but this was a shock indeed. One of the Kuntz family was abusing his frau? She shouldn’t have taken such delight in Enos’s humiliation, Katie reminded herself. The poor man had sat there, so red in the face she’d thought he might burst out in tears. The Christian attitude was for her to pray for him, but she was quite weak in faith apparently. As Norman got down on his knees to beg forgiveness, she felt a shiver of delight run up and down her back. This was quite an evil and sinful thing, no doubt, but she felt it anyway. She would surely have to pray for mercy herself before long.

  Katie pushed the thoughts of Enos and Norman Kuntz aside and slipped through the huge double-door entryway of the courtroom. Ben was sitting near the front row. Katie stayed out of sight, using the back of a huge, overweight man as a shield. Ben turned and looked around. Maybe he sensed her presence, Katie thought, another thrill running through her. More than likely though, Ben was longing for a familiar face but finding none. Perhaps she should show herself. But nee, she’d better not. It might rattle Ben, and he didn’t need distractions right now.

  Two rows of seats full of men and women sat off to the side. In front of the huge judge’s bench were two long tables on the left and right. Men and women sat at both of them, all of the people older looking except for one young man. He must be the defendant, Katie figured. The man accused of shooting Ben. While Katie was studying the back of his head, a uniformed officer—the bailiff—stood up in the front and called out, “This court of Kent County is now is session. All rise…the Honorable Judge Newton presiding.”

  A black-robed judge appeared from the side door. The people in the courtroom were already halfway to their feet by the time it dawned on Katie what the man had meant. Katie leaped up. She was clearly out of familiar waters in this Englisha courtroom.

  Katie sat down again when everyone else did. People began moving around in front of the courtroom, and a man stood up to speak. Katie strained to hear what he had to say.

  “Your honor,” the man said, “if it please the court, the prosecution has two final witnesses to present.”

  “Proceed, counselor,” the judge ordered from his lofty perch.

  “I call Mr. Bennett Slocomb to the witness stand, Your Honor.”

  A man seated beside Ben rose and headed for the witness stand. When he was seated, the bailiff approached him. “Please raise your right hand, Mr. Slocomb.”

  When he did, the officer continued, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth…”

  The officer’s voice eventually came to an end, and Mr. Slocomb said, “I do.”

  “You may proceed with your questions, counselor,” the judge ordered.

  Katie leaned forward to listen to the answers.

  “I’m a neighbor to the Stoll family. I live close enough to see across the fields. On the night of August twenty-eight, I heard a gunshot and went outside to look around. The gunshot came clearly from the direction of the Stoll residence. I was sitting in the living room, which is on the same side as the Stoll’s farm. I ran back in to get my own gun out of the cabinet, telling my wife to call 911. I then ran across the field toward the Stoll’s farm. I stayed along the road the whole time. When I came up to the small piece of woods that lies along the side of the road, a car started up and roared out of the woods past me. I saw the make and model and color clearly.”

  The counselor asked Mr. Slocomb, “Can you state the make and model?”

  “Yes,” the answer came. “A Chevy Malibu, dark blue. And no, I didn’t see who was inside.”

  “Are you sure, Mr. Slocomb?”

  “Yes. My wife once drove a Chevy Malibu, so I’m quite familiar with the car.”

  “Did you see any other identification on the car?”

  “Yes, I caught part of the license plate—UYI 2. But that’s all.”

  The counselor now produced a record of a car in the defendant’s name, matching the partial license plate number given by Mr. Slocomb, he said, entering the items into evidence. The attorney turned on his heels. “That’s all, Your Honor.”

  Katie watched as another man, another lawyer from the other side presumably, approached Mr. Slocomb. More questions came fast and furious.

  “How is your eyesight, Mr. Slocomb?”

  “How could you be sure of what you saw if it was dark?”

  “Doesn’t dark-blue blend in with the night?”

  “When did Mrs. Slocomb own this Chevy Malibu?”

  “Doesn’t that make one see the familiar in the unfamiliar? Are there not, after all, several models of cars quite similar to the Chevy Malibu?”

  “How could you see the license plate number in the dark, Mr. Slocomb?”

  The neighbor was standing up well under the barrage, Katie thought. And answering the questions in a confident voice. If she were on the juror panel, she certainly would believe the man.

  The questions eventually wrapped up without Mr. Slocomb being found in any inconsistency. He looked a little rumpled though as he returned to his seat.

  Ben was called next.

  Katie’s heart pounded as she watched Ben walk up and take his seat in the witness stand. How was this going to go? Ben said he wasn’t going to testify? Had he changed his mind?

  The bailiff approached him, and when Ben was asked to promise to tell the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, he simply replied, “I affirm,” and the judge nodded.

  Stepping up the first counselor began his questions.

  Ben answered the most basic ones, such as stating his name and address and even answered some other general questions about the night he was shot. But when he was asked specific questions that he couldn’t in good conscience answer, he replied, “I can’t answer that question, sir.”

  “Is it because you cannot remember, Mr. Stoll?”

  “No sir. I cannot answer for reasons of my Amish faith.”

  Neither the judge or the lawyer looked that surprised. A flurry of activity continued in which Ben was ordered by the judge to answer the counselor’s questions. Ben continued to refuse, citing his religious convictions.

  Finally the judge said, “I’ve had enough of this. You have been served a subpoena, Mr. Stoll, and you will either answer the questions or I will hold you in contempt of court. If cited for contempt, you’ll be held in the county jail until you choose to cooperate. What will it be?”

  “I cannot answer the questions because of my Amish faith, Your Honor,” Ben repeated.

  The judge pondered for a moment before asking. “Does the prosecution wish to continue without this witness?”

  “We do,” the answer came.

  The judge looked to the other table. “Does the defense wish to question the witness on what he has testified to so far?”

  The lawyer stood. “We do not, Your Honor.”

  “Then I sentence you to contempt of court. Bailiff, take him away.” The judge motioned with his hand.

  Ben stood and was led out by a court officer.

  Katie sensed that maybe he’d caught sight of her before she could duck behind the huge man again. When she looked again, Ben had disappeared through the side door, and the two lawyers were huddled in front with the judge and speaking in hushed tones.

  When they finished, another witness was called, but Katie had seen what she’d come to see. She left the courtroom and returned to her buggy.

  She pulled off Sparky’s blanket, stored it in the back of the buggy, untied the horse, and climbed into the buggy. Nothing had been accomplished, she told herself. Ben had been marched off to jail again—for how long was anyone’s guess. Though Ben was in more trouble with the Englisha authorities, at least he had kept his promise to Bishop Miller. That was a gut sign, surely.