by Mary Davis
Deborah better get inside to keep that from happening. The rest of the family had gathered in the living room, as well. A crowd would make it harder to steer the conversation, or to stop Dr. Kathleen from saying something Deborah hoped she wouldn’t. Deborah stuck the tip of her index fingernail between her teeth.
Mutter and Hannah brought out two plates of old-time cinnamon jumbo cookies to feed everyone, as well as a tray full of steaming mugs.
When Mutter sat, she waved a hand toward Deborah. “Don’t bite your nails.”
Deborah lowered her hand into her lap. Her being repeatedly missing from the family went unnoticed, but this, her mutter noticed. She snatched a mug of tea and a cookie from the coffee table and slouched back into the straight-backed chair.
Sure enough, once Dr. Kathleen said Vater was recovering well with no unforeseen problems, she turned to Mutter and struck up a conversation.
To most people, it probably sounded like two Amish women having a typical conversation. But Deborah could hear the small hesitations from her mutter and little things that were wrong in what she said. But to the unaware person who didn’t know Mutter well and didn’t live with her, she sounded like any other Amish woman. But she wasn’t.
Dr. Kathleen held up her half-eaten cookie. “These are delicious. Did you make them?”
Mutter said ja at the same time Hannah said that she’d made them. Then her sister corrected her statement to say they both had.
Mutter shifted on the sofa to face Hannah, who was next to her. “Martha, I made these myself.”
Oh, dear. That was Mutter’s sister’s name. Mutter wasn’t all right. What would happen now?
Not realizing her mistake, Mutter continued, “You were never gut at making these. They always turn out flat. But you make the best cakes. Mine never turn out very gut.”
Vater struggled to his feet. “Well, we won’t keep you, Kathleen.”
Had the doctor noticed that Mutter had called Hannah by the wrong name? Would she say anything? Maybe the doctor didn’t know them well enough to have realized the wrong name was used. Vater had noticed and was eager to have the doctor leave.
Thankfully, the doctor hadn’t said anything about Deborah calling her clinic to try to make an appointment for her mutter. Maybe Jessica hadn’t told Dr. Kathleen about it. Ne. Jessica had said the doctor would look at Vater while she was here checking out Mutter.
Dr. Kathleen stood. “Thank you for the tea and cookies,” she said to Mutter, then turned to Vater. “Though your shoulder is better, I don’t want you using those crutches much yet. It still needs to heal, and I don’t want you to reinjure it. Next week, I’ll come back and start you on some exercises to strengthen it.” Dr. Kathleen picked up her backpack of medical supplies and headed for the door. “Deborah, would you walk me out?”
Deborah rushed to her side and held the door open. “Of course.” She followed her out, down the steps and across the yard to where Amos had parked the horse and buggy. Because this wasn’t expected to be a long visit, the horse hadn’t been unhitched.
Kathleen stopped next to her buggy. “Bring your mutter to my clinic tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make sure I don’t have any other appointments.”
“You want to see her?”
Had she noticed? Or was the doctor simply granting Deborah the appointment she’d asked for?
“I didn’t really see or hear anything out of the ordinary—except calling your sister by the wrong name—but there’s something that seems off that I can’t put my finger on. Add that with your concern, and it makes me want to see her in my clinic.”
“I’ll bring her. Danki for not saying anything about my calling about her.”
“No one else knows?”
“Knows there’s something wrong with Mutter? I think my vater and older sisters do, but no one will talk to me about it. I tried, but they brushed it aside or changed the subject. Do they know I called for an appointment? Ne. I think they would try to stop me. They seem to be ignoring the issues.”
“People don’t like to think that a loved one has problems. Especially in Amish communities. We think we should be able to pray all our problems away, but Gott never said we would be free of troubles. Look at the Apostles. They all had more troubles after Christ was crucified than before. I don’t believe it’s whether or not we have troubles that tests and shows our faith, but how we deal with them that can glorify Gott. Bring your mutter, and we’ll see what’s going on.” Dr. Kathleen climbed into her buggy and drove away.
Deborah stared after her. So, the doctor had come to check on Mutter as well as Vater. Her relief was palpable.
* * *
From inside the barn, Amos watched Deborah, who was standing in the yard. The doctor had left, but she didn’t retreat into the house or look as though she was going to move anytime soon. What was she doing? This could be a gut opportunity to talk with her.
He exited the barn and his heart rate increased the closer he got to where she still stood. “Is everything all right?”
She jerked around to face him. “What? What do you mean by that?”
“Your vater? I assume that’s why the doctor stopped by.”
“Oh, ja, Vater, he’s doing well, Dr. Kathleen doesn’t want him to use his arm much yet, she’s going to start him on some exercises next week. That’s all. Nothing more.”
“Gut.” He squinted a little. Why was she talking so fast? “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Why would you ask that?”
“You’re frowning, asked why I asked and you’re talking faster than normal.”
“Talking fast? That’s just because I’m cold.” She rubbed her upper arms as though to prove her point.
Did she have another secret? “Maybe you should go back into the house.” But he didn’t want her to. He could fetch his coat for her to get her to stay.
“Oh, yeah. I should do that.” She turned and walked away.
He wished he could call her back, but he didn’t have a reason to do so.
She paused at the bottom of the steps to the front porch. Instead of going inside, she headed out across the field. Without her coat.
Going for a walk? Certainly she wouldn’t head into Goshen to visit her friend this late in the afternoon. It would get dark before she could return.
He ran back inside the barn and grabbed his own coat, then trotted after her.
He caught up to her by the pond and sat on the log next to her. “I thought you might be going to visit your friend.”
She scrunched up her face. “What? What friend?”
“The one in need you go to all the time.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. That friend. Ne. I just came out here to think. Did you come to check up on me?”
He held out his coat, which was still in his hand. “I thought you might get cold. You said you were cold before coming.”
“Danki. That was very thoughtful. Won’t you get cold?”
“Ne.” He wrapped it around her shoulders. “Do you want to be alone? I can leave.”
“Ne, please stay.” She shifted to face him better. “May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” He settled himself on the log.
“What if there was something you felt you should do—felt it was the right thing to do—but you knew your parents wouldn’t approve if you asked them?”
Like leaving the Amish community? Her words could be describing his own dilemma. “If it truly is the right thing, wouldn’t your parents tell you to do it?”
“Not if they thought it was wrong.”
“Then how could it be right?”
“Sometimes, one person can view something as right and another view it as wrong.”
Exactly. Like him leaving his Amish community to figure out where he belonged.
She continued, “So, what if there’
s a hungry child. The right thing to do is to give the child food, but the only food belongs to someone else. Is it wrong to take what belongs to someone else to feed the child? It wouldn’t be right to let the child go hungry. No Amish person would deny a child food. So, it’s like you have permission in advance.”
Did her “friend in need” require food?
“That’s a bad example.” She waved her hand in the air. “Just forget it.”
“Ne. I understand what you’re trying to say. Do you truly want to know what I think?”
“Ja.”
“I think you need to decide if doing the right thing is...not more important, but more right than the wrong thing is wrong. If that makes sense.”
“So, the right thing needs to be more right than it is wrong?”
“Something like that.” Some of the church leaders wouldn’t say so. Something was either right or wrong, it couldn’t be a little of both. But some things weren’t as clear.
“Danki. That’s helpful.”
He was glad he could help. Now he just needed to figure out for himself if his right thing was more right than the wrong part of it was wrong.
At this moment, sitting with Deborah seemed very right, but this moment couldn’t last. Bartholomew would heal and not need help, and Amos would be expected to return to his parents’ farm, which his brothers would split, leaving Amos to fend for himself. He wasn’t a very gut Amish if he thought only of himself. He glanced over at Deborah. She deserved a better Amish man than he was turning out to be.
Chapter Ten
Deborah escorted her mutter into the barn. She glanced around for Amos but didn’t see him. She was both grateful and disappointed. “Could you sit right there on that barrel until I get Floyd hitched up?” She didn’t want her mutter wandering off.
Mutter complied. She seemed to be in a bit of a confused state but amenable.
Deborah retrieved the buggy harness from the wall outside the tack room. Though she tried to see Amos whenever she came out to the barn, it was gut he wasn’t here right now. She wouldn’t have to explain where she was going or what she was doing or why.
All the leather and metal in the harness weighed heavy in her arms. She hung the various parts on the pegs designed to hold the harness in preparation for putting it on the horse.
Then she walked Floyd out of his stall and tied his lead rope to a post. One of the kittens lay undisturbed upon the horse’s back, and another stood on his withers and mane.
Amos’s voice came from behind her. “Let me help with that.”
She spun around, spooking the horse, who double-stepped in place.
Amos rushed over, reached around her with one arm and took hold of the rope. His other arm, which was on the other side of her, stroked the horse’s neck. “Whoa, boy.”
The horse settled with a snort.
Deborah’s breath caught at him being so close.
Amos stared at Deborah for a moment, then cleared his throat. “I obviously startled you. You weren’t expecting me to come in here—the place I spend the most time.” He squinted mischievously. “Which makes me wonder what you’re up to.”
From his crooked grin, she knew he was teasing her. He liked to joke about where she went during the day and various other things. She would like nothing better than to stand there and look at him, but she didn’t have time for his shenanigans today. “I’m not up to anything.” She couldn’t allow her serious mission to be thwarted.
He looked from her to her mutter and back. “You are up to something. You’re taking her to see the doctor, aren’t you?”
The temptation to lie tickled her tongue, but that would be wrong. She ducked under his arm instead. “Ja.”
“Alone?”
She set a step stool next to Floyd’s front legs. The horse was too tall for her to reach without it, even at five-nine. “Ja.” Then she took the breast collar and climbed on the step.
Amos took hold of the collar, keeping her from putting it on the horse. “Does your vater know about this?”
She tried to pull the apparatus free. Vater couldn’t know until after Deborah found out what was wrong with Mutter. “He ignores her condition. Even you noticed something was off with her.”
He wrestled the collar from her hands. “You need to tell your vater.”
“He’ll say ne.” She stepped down from the stool.
“He’s the head of your family. It’s his decision.”
Mutter appeared beside them. “Amos, introduce me to your young lady.”
Deborah squinted at Mutter. How could her mutter not recognize her? Deborah’s heart sank. She knew Mutter rarely noticed when she was gone, but to not even recognize her caused her heart to physically hurt. Lately, Mutter had been getting worse. “Mutter! I’m Deborah. Your daughter.”
Mutter squinted and studied her middlemost daughter. Then recognition broke on her face. “Deborah!”
Pushing the stool aside with his foot, Amos wrapped the collar around the horse’s neck, causing the kitten on Floyd’s withers to jump off and scamper away.
“Now you’re helping me?” She picked up the kitten still lying on the draft horse’s back and sent him off with his sibling.
“I think your vater should know.” Amos made short work of harnessing Floyd and attaching the buggy. “But if he isn’t willing to get her the help she needs—” he glanced at her mutter, who appeared to not realize she was being talked about “—I think just this once, it will be all right. See what the doctor has to say. As long as no decisions are made without his consent.”
Mutter jerked away from Deborah. “Ne! I’m not going to a doctor. Doctors are bad. They hurt people.”
Had it just now registered to her mutter that they were going to the doctor’s? “Mutter, you need to. The doctor’s not going to hurt you. She’s going to help you.”
Mutter shook her head.
Hannah entered the barn.
Uh-oh. What would her sister do? This was getting more and more complicated by the minute. Could Deborah talk her sister in to leaving them be and allowing Deborah to take their mutter?
But before Deborah could do or say anything, Mutter rushed to Hannah’s side. “Hannah won’t let you.”
Hannah took Mutter’s hand in one of hers and patted it with the other. “Ne, Mutter. You misunderstood. You remember the Yoders.”
“Ja.”
What was her sister doing?
“You remember Kathleen Yoder.”
“Ja. She was such a sweet girl, but she left and never came back. We still pray for her.”
“She did come back. Last year.”
Mutter’s eyes widened. “She did?”
“Ja. She’s invited us for tea. You would like to visit with Kathleen, wouldn’t you?”
“Ja.” The fear melted from Mutter’s expression, and she climbed into the buggy without another word of protest. Hannah followed, settling herself in the back beside Mutter.
Deborah peered in the back. “You’re coming with us?”
“You obviously need someone who knows how to handle Mutter.”
She couldn’t believe her sister was helping after brushing Deborah’s concerns aside. She climbed in front.
Amos led the horse out of the barn, then fed the reins through the rein slits at the bottom of the windshield. He climbed in.
Deborah cocked her head. “You’re coming, too?”
He nodded and then set Floyd into motion.
She was grateful to have her sister and Amos along for support, as well as to help her make the best decision possible for Mutter.
Deborah’s feelings tangled together. How could her mutter not remember her own daughter when she could recall two people outside of the family? One from fourteen years ago and the other she’d only known for two months.
Amos
kept his voice low. “As soon as we return, you are going to tell your vater that we took her to the...to visit Kathleen and what she had to say.”
Deborah nodded and kept her voice low as well. “If my vater knows that my mutter has a problem, why hasn’t he done anything about it?”
“He’s probably afraid.”
She couldn’t imagine. “My vater has never been afraid of anything.”
“This is his frau. No one wants to think something is wrong with a family member.”
“Ignoring it won’t make it go away or make her suddenly better. I think she’s getting worse.”
From the back seat, Hannah said, “She is.”
Deborah turned to face her sister. “What caused your change of heart? When she was out wandering, you acted like nothing was wrong. Now you’re helping me?”
Mutter stared out the window with a contented smile on her face.
Hannah continued. “As you realized, Mutter’s getting worse. She’d been quite manageable for years.”
“She’s been like this for years?” Deborah couldn’t believe it. How had she not seen it?
“Not like she is now. Just the occasional lapse. Certain words and places set her off.”
“Words like doc—”
“Don’t. Let’s not upset her needlessly. Ja. Words like that. Since Vater’s accident she’s gotten worse, and I never know what will set her off. As I said, she was manageable. I had hopes to marry Nehemiah Zook this fall, but I can’t if Mutter is like this. She needs constant supervision lately.”
Deborah had had no idea what her sisters had been dealing with all these years. “When did you first notice something about her?”
“When Lydia and I were ten or so, Vater told us to keep an eye on her. She had disappeared a couple of times, and Vater had to go find her. He told us she’d just taken a walk and gone farther than she meant to.”
“I like taking walks,” Mutter said, still gazing out the window.
Was that where Deborah got her affinity for taking walks? Was she going to end up like her?
Hannah continued, “By the time we were twelve, we knew something wasn’t right.”
