by Murray Pura
“This isn’t some sort of gangster movie.”
“He will though. I know Dad. ‘What makes Moses Yoder tick?’ That’s what’s on his mind. Not me.”
“Both of you are on his mind. Believe me.” Lyyndaya glanced at her daughter. “Moses’ mother, Emma, once vied with me for your father’s affection.”
Becky stopped milking again. “What?”
“Keep working. Ruth and Grandmother will have breakfast ready at six-thirty, after the men have put in an hour’s work on the fences.”
Lyyndaya watched to be sure Becky returned to milking her cow. “I tell you this because it would be just like Lydia Yoder to speak with you about it, thinking she’s doing us all a good turn. So I was young and Emma was young, a great beauty, and we both fell in love with Jude. You know the story about him going overseas. Even then he wasn’t sure which of us he should marry…if he returned alive. He was shunned because he went to war and we couldn’t write him and he couldn’t write us. Emma and I were good friends, despite being rivals for Jude, and we prayed for him and wrote him letters anyway, letters he never saw.”
Lyyndaya got up and emptied her bucket into a milk can. Then she took her stool to another stall. Becky poured her milk into the container and moved to a different stall as well, carrying her lantern with her. She waited for her mother to finish the story, listening to the sounds of the dairy herd and the small creaks and groans of the barn. Finally Lyyndaya picked up where she had left off.
“You’ve heard the story about how your father enlisted to spare the other young men here persecution during the war and also to ensure the safety of the Amish community in Paradise. At the time, however, we didn’t know why Jude had done what he had done, why he had joined the army and gone to France as a fighter pilot. Many felt it was because flying was such an obsession to him he couldn’t resist the temptation. As time went by, Emma simply stopped believing in him and didn’t want him as a husband even if he did return and repent. So she took up with another man in the community who she felt was more righteous and more Amish. She was, after all, Bishop Zook’s daughter. Who can blame her? No one understood what Jude was doing or why.”
“But you didn’t stop believing in him, did you?”
Becky had stopped milking. Lyyndaya was going to tell her to keep going but then she stopped milking too and looked at nothing, her eyes light and dark in the glimmer of the lantern.
“I loved your father. And he told me when we met again that he realized long before he returned that it was me he loved, not Emma. He had one last letter I had written before the shunning and he read it over and over again before he took to the air every morning. The skies were dangerous in 1918 and my words in the letter and God’s words in the Bible gave him hope and strength. Yes, I believed in him. I knew he must be doing something holy and good that none of us could comprehend but that one day God would bring it to light. And so he did. Your father was a hero and he saved lives here in Paradise as well as in France. He even saved his enemies’ lives.” She looked over at Becky and half smiled. “Who knows? Perhaps you will do something like that too. Save lives. Oh, what am I saying? You’ve already done that by having airlifted patients, brought in medical supplies—”
“It’s not like what Father did. He had to be brave in a time of war when others were trying to shoot him down. That’s different. That takes another kind of courage. I don’t know if I have it.”
Lyyndaya stood up. “I don’t want to find out. If you truly have feelings for young Moses then I would be far happier if you married him and settled down here and grew wheat and corn and raised a crop of grandchildren for me. Even if you had to give up flying I would like that far better than you ending up in the skies over France like your father, with German bullets whistling by your head.”
“Mom, they’ll never let women fly combat aircraft. Not in this war anyways.”
“Who knows how quickly that might change!”
Lyyndaya had tears shining in her eyes and on her face. Becky quickly got up and went to her, helping her mother to her feet and taking her in her arms. She stood a half-foot taller so that Lyyndaya’s head rested on her daughter’s chest.
“Mom. It’s okay. They say America will never get into the war in Europe.”
“They said that in 1914 too. But three years later there we were. All because the Germans sank American ships.”
“The Germans won’t do that again, Mother. We’ll stay out of this conflict. Everyone says so.” Becky kissed her mother on the top of her head. “And I won’t go over. I have no desire to do that. I won’t fly Red Cross planes. I won’t nurse on the battlefield or anything—I’m no Clara Barton or Florence Nightingale. I don’t know what’s going to happen between Moses and me. Maybe I’ll go Amish or maybe I won’t. But I don’t feel I have to take off into the air and prove I have as much courage as Dad did during the Great War. That’s not in me. I may be a daredevil stunt flyer but I’m not going to play a game like that.”
“Oh, this is so foolish, standing here in the barn crying.” Lyyndaya swiped at her eyes with her fingers but didn’t pull away from her daughter. “The milking needs to be finished, soon Ruth will be calling us into breakfast, there is baking and ironing—”
“All that can wait.”
“You will want to see your young Moses.”
“Yes. But that can wait too. He’ll be there an hour from now, even two hours from now.”
“You sound too proud when you say that, Becky, too sure of yourself.”
“It’s not that, Mom. It’s that I’m sure of him. I know he cares for me. I know he’ll be there.” She smiled. “I guess I know he loves me. I only wonder if I love him too.”
FIVE
A low boom rumbled over the fields from dark clouds away to the east. Moses Yoder glanced back. The storm wasn’t any closer than it had been an hour before and the glow of the rising sun was lining the top of the thunderhead. He was certain the clouds would head out to sea or up the coast. Turning back to his buggy, he flicked the reins of his horse, Milly, and clicked his tongue.
“Come, girl, we must hurry.”
They rushed past farms where his Amish neighbors had long been up and about seeing to their livestock in the dark. One or two waved to him, holding their lanterns, and he waved back. Soon the buggy was in Paradise, rolling through quiet streets where only a few cars were on the road that early. He snapped the reins again, biting his lower lip.
“Bitte, Milly, bitte.”
He emerged on the far side of town and immediately spotted the airplane in a field several hundred yards away. It was the field of Henry Parker, an English farmer. He had just taken his second cut of hay off it the week before. Moses could see Parker, recognizable by his tall, lean frame in the dim light of early dawn, and a smaller figure as well. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as he drew closer and closer.
The sun cleared the cloud bank just before he stopped. Gold flashed over the plane and grass, over Henry Parker—and it flashed over Becky Whetstone, who stood by the craft in a leather flight jacket and helmet, goggles pushed high up on her head. Moses felt dizzy when he looked at her in that light. He almost fell out of the buggy, climbing out so hastily. Becky’s eyes glittered with a smile.
“Moses Yoder. Good to see you, son.” Henry Parker extended his hand. “Have you ever been up in a crop duster before?”
Moses shook Parker’s hand. “No, sir. I’ve never flown in anything before.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat. My Curtiss Jenny is an old girl but she’s solid. Sorry to say I won’t be taking you up myself. I hope this young lady will do.”
Becky looked like a different woman in her flying gear. Moses kept staring at her even though her hand had been extended for several moments. Finally she withdrew it and handed him a jacket and helmet and goggles.
“Guten Morgen, Mr. Yoder. Please put these on and climb into the front seat. Mr. Parker will see to it you are strapped in properly.”<
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Moses tugged on the jacket. “Whose is this?”
“My dad’s. He arranged for us to borrow Mr. Parker’s Jenny and he was quite happy to lend you his gear.” She came closer and whispered to him while Parker checked over the aircraft a final time. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? I haven’t taken my vows. It doesn’t matter what I do. But you’ve been baptized into the Amish faith.”
Moses had an almost blank expression on his face as he looked at her. “I have never seen anything so beautiful as the way you look right now.”
“Oh, my.” Becky reddened. “You are the most romantic Amish farmer that has ever been born in Lancaster County. Are you sure you won’t get into trouble for doing this?”
“No one will know.”
“Of course they’ll know. Everyone will find out.”
“So if they shun me, they shun me. It will be worth it.”
Becky helped him put on his helmet. “No Amish boy is as crazy as you. No wonder I like you.”
“Like?”
She paused and put a hand to his cheek. “You know how I feel, my Amish man. Ich liebe dich.”
A smile moved over his lips. “So now I am ready to do anything. I could fly without the plane.”
“Let’s not try that this time.” She kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Jump in. And make sure your straps are tight.”
Henry Parker took care that Moses was safely secured in the forward cockpit. His brown eyes were warm. “Sometimes we risk all for the lady’s hand.”
Moses shrugged. “My grandfather flew before the planes were banned. I want to see what he saw. And I want her to be the one taking me up.”
The older man patted Moses on the shoulder. “I’d do the same. She’s a honey.” He leaned in close to Moses. “Now you look out to the far end of my fields once you’re aloft, young man. Just past all the corn. You look to the dirt road there. All right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Moses watched in amazement as Mr. Parker spun the propeller and the engine howled and the plane started to move forward. Becky turned it into the breeze that was coming in from the west, and Moses felt his hair blow backward. They went faster and faster, faster than any horse he had galloped or any team he had driven, until the field on either side of them was a green streak. There was a lurch and they were in the air, the motor roaring, the Jenny rising higher and higher, roads becoming pencil lines, farmhouses little boxes, Henry Parker turning into a stick man. Moses felt a rush of fear and a rush of excitement colliding inside him.
Becky flew straight and level a few minutes, dove, then rolled the plane so Moses was hanging upside down. He could not help himself and began to laugh. He was still laughing when she came right side up and he twisted back to look at her. Becky saw his laughter and grinned, shaking her head. She shouted over the noise of the wind and the engine: “I—tried—to scare you—and all you do—is laugh?”
“I—can’t—help it!” he shouted back.
“You are—one crazy Amish boy!”
She banked and Moses noticed the cornfield. He remembered what Henry Parker had told him and he stared down through his goggles at the earth far below. At first the road beyond the rows of cornstalks seemed empty. Then he saw a black buggy. Beside it was a tall figure, taller than Henry Parker, taller than anyone he knew except for his grandfather, Bishop Zook. A hand waved up at him and Moses leaned out of the cockpit in excitement.
“Grandpa!” he yelled, waving both arms wildly. “Grandpa! It’s beautiful! Es ist Gottes Schönheit!”
“What?” shouted Becky from behind him.
“It’s my grandfather!” Moses pointed downward.
Becky looked down. “What are you calling to him?”
“Es ist Gottes Schönheit! It’s God’s beauty!”
“Moses—he can’t hear you! I can barely hear you!”
“I don’t care! I am going to shout it anyway! God will hear if no one else does!”
Again Becky grinned and shook her head.
Moses twisted around in his seat as far as he could to look at her. “No one in the world could look as good as you do in such goggles! Everything you wear looks attractive once you put it on!”
“Oh, stop it! You are too much!” She threw the plane into a steep dive. “There! That will shut you up!” But even above the scream of the air and the shriek of the motor she could hear his laughter.
They stayed up for half an hour, circling over Bishop Zook again and again, sometimes heading east into the sun, other times heading north and south and west over lush hay fields and stands of trees as well as long rows of ripening oats and barley and tobacco. At one point a flock of white pelicans flew beside them. Moses kept slapping the flat of his hand against the outside of his cockpit and Becky was sure she heard him whistling. Sudden dives and barrel rolls and death spins only made him laugh with so much abandon she thought he wouldn’t be able to stop to get his breath. When it came time to land she deliberately dove through a cluster of clouds white and cool as pearl and touched down on the far side of the field from Henry Parker, knowing it would take him at least five minutes to get over to them. The propeller hadn’t even stopped spinning before she jumped clear of her cockpit and began tugging at the straps holding Moses safe in his seat.
“What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Hurry. I want to show you something.”
He followed her around to the side of the aircraft that was out of Henry Parker’s sight. Then she pulled off her helmet and goggles so her blond hair flew loose around her face and shoulders. Moses didn’t move. She ripped off his helmet, goggles with it, and kissed him full on the lips as hard as she could. His arms found her back and he brought her against his chest and jacket, kissing back with more and more strength until suddenly his lips were over her eyes and her hair and her throat. Now she was the one who began to laugh.
“Look at you,” she teased. “A wild Amish man.”
“Shh. This is not the time for words. Es ist eine Zeit zum Berühren.”
“What?”
“It is a time to touch.” He kissed her again and when he pulled away she gasped for breath. He smiled.
“How…how do you kiss like that when you have never had a girl?” she managed to say.
“It comes naturally…with you. Like the laughter coming out of my stomach. And then I can’t end it.” His fingers played with strands of her hair. “This is just like the sun. There is no difference. A woman’s crowning glory is her hair. Now I must marry you, you know.”
“Is that how it works?”
“That’s exactly how it works among the Plain people.” He put his hands on both sides of her face and kissed her slowly and softly. “You see? That is how we do it. No rush. No hurry. No English.”
She closed her eyes and tilted up her face. “Please. I want some more Amish.”
“My pleasure.”
He kissed her again, slowly and deeply. Neither of them pulled away even when they heard the sound of hoofbeats and the jangle of harness and the creak of wheels. Only when Bishop Zook boomed, “Wie geht es Ihnen?” did they stop the kiss, but even then they didn’t step apart or take their arms from around each other’s waists.
“Hello, Grandfather,” Moses greeted him. “We are good, thank you.”
“Bishop Zook,” said Becky. “I’ve never been better.”
The bishop climbed down from the buggy and so did Henry Parker, whom the bishop had picked up and driven to where Becky had landed the Jenny. The bishop pushed his straw hat back on his head.
“So, so. Up in the air. Flying around. Barnstorming.” He smiled at them through his white beard. “What shall we do with you, hmm?”
“Grandfather, Rebecca is rumspringa. She has not taken her vows.”
“I know she is rumspringa. But what are you?”
“I? I’m in love with her.”
“I see that. A hundred wagons coming up that road couldn’t have made you two end that kiss.
”
“Not a thousand, sir.”
“Hmm.” He stroked his beard and turned his gaze on Becky. “So. Rebecca. What do you say?”
“He wanted to fly. Just like you flew twenty years ago. And me? Now that I have been in the air with him I want to marry him. Even if it means I must keep both feet on the ground.”
Moses looked at her. “What? You want to marry me and you aren’t teasing? Just like that?”
“It’s not just like that. We were in the sky for thirty minutes.” She hugged him. “And I have been praying about it all summer. I don’t want you shunned or repenting of being up in a plane with me. Let the Jenny stay on Mr. Parker’s runway from now on. You and I can plant our crops and have a farm, and our marriage can be what takes us into the clouds. Okay?”
“But you love flying planes—”
“Shh.” Her fingers moved to his lips. “But I love you more.” She glanced at Bishop Zook. “I want to take my vows and be baptized.”
His thick eyebrows moved upward. “Ja? There will be a period of instruction.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“All things must be done in accordance with the Ordnung.”
“Of course.”
“Usually we have our baptisms in the spring. Marriages in the late fall or early winter. Well after harvest.”
“Perhaps if I’m an exceptional student the timetable might be altered slightly?”
“Oh–ho—you think so?” He laughed. “I will talk to the ministers. Then I will decide. We should come to your place tomorrow morning after chores. Is that all right with you, Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“I will need to talk to your mother and father about it right away. Can I offer you two a lift back to your buggy? You should go home first, Rebecca. You should be talking to them about what is going on before I do my bishop speech. And Moses, you must talk with your mother.”
“What about the plane?” asked Moses.
Henry Parker cleared his throat and stepped forward. “If someone will give the prop a twirl I’ll get her back to the hangar and loaded up for a run over my apple orchards. You don’t need to worry about Jenny.”
