Lois turned up her nose. “What can the community say worse than ‘the bishop can’t keep his own daughter in the faith’? Daett can survive that.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Ida said.
Lois tossed her head. “That’s always the story you and Verna give me. I’m tired of it. I’m twenty-two years of age, Ida. Time is passing me by! I don’t want to live here in the community all my life, always wondering what’s out there. I want to know, Ida. I want to taste the things of the world for myself. I don’t want to believe what Debbie says they are. I want to see for myself. And Debbie survived that world, didn’t she? So why shouldn’t I be okay?”
Ida had turned pale in spite of her earlier warning that Lois had exactly these plans.
Debbie grasped for a solution. “Okay, if I’m the one who’s at fault that Alvin left, maybe I can be the one to win him back. I’ll visit Alvin in Philadelphia and talk some sense into him.”
Lois laughed. “Your Englisha ways aren’t going to work this time, Debbie. Daett will blame you for sure if you go gallivanting to Philadelphia after Alvin.”
Debbie stole a look at Ida’s pale face before she answered. “It was just an idea. I admit I’m not quite sure what’s acceptable.”
Ida ignored the comments as she straightened from leaning against the wall. “I think we should all get some sleep now. Morning will be here before we know it.”
Lois grunted as she glanced at the clock on Ida’s dresser. It was long after midnight.
Ida had used the tried-and-true tactic the Beiler family turned to when arguments failed with Lois. They moved the discussion to other subjects, and things usually simmered down. This time that might not work. Debbie stole a quick look at Ida’s face and saw she’d arrived at the same conclusion. Ida was grasping for straws tonight.
Lois had a forced smile on her face as she bid them gut night at the bedroom door.
Debbie lingered for a moment. Should she have one more quick word with Ida? Perhaps they could give each other a last word of comfort, what with all the weighty things they’d discussed tonight. But Lois stood outside in the hallway and showed no inclination to leave until Debbie came with her.
Debbie moved toward the doorway, whispering a gut night over her shoulder. She said gut night to Lois, crossed the hallway, and entered her own room. She shut the door, blew out the lamp flame, and walked to the window. The storm outside had increased in intensity. Snow was blowing everywhere, and the wind was howling under the eaves. Bishop Beiler’s weather prediction at the supper table had been right. But his guess about the storm outside couldn’t hold a candle to the storm Debbie was feeling inside.
Five
The following Monday Ida sat in front of the sewing machine, the gas lantern hissing above her. She ran the pressed edges of the soft, dark-blue dress material under the needle. She paused and glanced outside at the glowering skies. The heavy feel of the day reminded her of the heaviness the entire Beiler family was experiencing.
The snowstorm had raged for most of the weekend, and the roads were still drifted over. The community had barely been able to gather for church yesterday, though the buggies usually could go where Englisha vehicles couldn’t in the snow.
Emery had plowed the lane for Debbie’s car before he worked on his barn chores. When Debbie had seen Emery out that early on the tractor, she’d donned her boots and heavy coat before running outside to protest. But Emery had continued to clear the lane, so Debbie’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears. After the kafuffle last Friday with Lois, Emery was probably trying to soothe their spirits with a little extra kindness this morning. Still, there was the reality that Lois’s vow to leave for the Englisha world had cast a pall over the household.
After their talk Friday night, Debbie had appeared remarkably peaceful on Saturday morning. When she’d come in from doing the chores, Lois was the one who appeared disturbed. She’d remained downcast at the breakfast table, though she hadn’t expressed further plans to leave the community. But something had definitely changed. Always in the past Lois would speak of her admiration of all things Englisha but would back down when Daett or Mamm reproved her. Now Alvin’s departure for the Englisha world had made a difference. Ida feared Lois might well continue to draw strength from his example. She paused and listened to the sounds of Lois and Mamm working in the kitchen. Lois was perfectly capable of baking bread on her own, but Mamm must be feeling the same uneasiness. She felt a need to be with Lois. No wonder, really. Lois was walking around in silence for the most part, which usually meant she was thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking.
Ida sighed and ran another edge of the dress through the sewing machine. There was little she could do about Lois. Daett and Mamm would have to deal with her. Debbie was the one she was more concerned about. Lois had always been the way she was, and it made sense that things would eventually get worse. Debbie, on the other hand, had her heart set to join the community. It simply wasn’t fair that her plans might be waylaid through no fault of her own. And the only solution she could see to this problem was for Debbie to accept Paul’s attention. That would solve so many problems.
This would destroy her own chances to attract Paul’s attention. Ida laughed at the thought. What were those chances in the first place? Next to zero, if she were honest. Yah, she’d allowed her hopes to soar at Verna’s wedding when Paul had served as the best man. They had sat together during the ceremonies, and she’d stolen more glances at Paul than were decent. She hadn’t been able to help herself. Oh, if Debbie only realized how thankful she should be that a man like Paul paid her attention. But what would have turned Ida all shades of red seemed to have no effect on Debbie. Maybe Debbie just needed encouragement in Paul’s direction. If so, Ida knew she could supply that.
Paul was the perfect gentleman. She knew this because he’d been nothing but nice to her the whole day of Verna’s wedding. Paul had made small talk with her at every opportunity. There had been no teasing comments about her constant blush, and Paul had to have noticed. He had, after all, sat only inches from her for most of the day. The man had tried his best to give her a gut day. It was as if he knew what she so desperately wanted. And though unable to give his love, Paul had given what he could—kindness for the day, compassion for her bumbling ways, and even a couple of smiles. He wasn’t mean. Ida was sure of that.
Paul had wanted to give his gut friend Joe a wunderbah wedding day. So he had made the best of things—including sitting next to a girl he would never give a second notice to on any other day. Yah, for his kindness Paul was a man who deserved a sparkling girl like Debbie. And Debbie deserved a dashing boy like Paul. On her part, Ida would have to be sensible and move on with her life.
Ida finished one side of the dress and turned the cloth around. She held it up to the lantern for a better look at the thread line. The job was pretty gut. She might have gotten it a little straighter if more light came in the window, but this was okay. The dress would be ready to wear next Sunday, and she was happy with the outcome even if it was slightly flawed. Was that not the attitude one should have?
Ida started the clatter of the sewing machine again and thought about her future without Paul…possibly without a man at all. The answer lay in Da Hah’s hands, and in the end there was little one could do to change things. But a person could miss opportunities, that much was plain. And wasn’t that exactly what Debbie was doing with Paul? Not that Debbie intended to miss any gut thing Da Hah gave her, but her life among the Englisha had for some reason blinded her to Paul’s gut qualities. Ida thought long on that fact, and the sewing machine clatter died down. Then something interesting occurred to her. Nee, there would be no Paul Wagler in her life, but what about someone else? Was it possible she was missing an opportunity just as she was accusing Debbie of doing? But who would that be?
Her mind raced through several single men in the community, all of whom had never looked her way or whose way she’d never looked. But then hadn’t Minister Kanagy’s b
rother, Melvin, cast a glance or two her way at some Sunday meetings? Those momentary glances had been sharp and possibly filled with intent, though she’d noted his gaze had only briefly lingered on her. The fact that the looks had come from the married men’s bench might have been partly the reason she’d ignored them. But Melvin wasn’t married. Well, he had been to that beautiful Kline girl from the other end of the community. They’d been married enough years to have six children before Mary passed away from a brain tumor a year or so ago.
Ida’s thoughts paused on the idea of Melvin Kanagy. She didn’t know that much about his situation. Someone from his family helped care for his young children, she thought. Maybe it was his younger sister, Lily, who went to his house on weekdays. Didn’t Lily have plans to marry this fall? One never quite knew such things for sure, but Lily and her boyfriend, Mahlon, had dated for over three years now. The expectation of a fall wedding was reasonable enough. Could Melvin be thinking of marriage again? Could his glances have been…Nee, of course not! But then why not? He’d married a beautiful girl in Mary. Perhaps in a second marriage beauty might not be at the top of his list. Not with six children. A woman who would make a good mamm would surely be more fitting, wouldn’t she?
Ida gasped. Her thoughts about Melvin shocked her. She…Melvin Kanagy’s frau? She didn’t even care for the man. He was handsome enough, unlike his nervous brother, Minister Kanagy. He looked better fed too, and his arms and shoulders were filled out. Ida clamped her hand over her mouth. These were not decent thoughts to have! Melvin had been another woman’s husband and had borne six children with her. How could she ever think of Melvin as her own husband? Ida drew in her breath. Mary was gone, was she not? That freed up Melvin. And what if this was Da Hah’s will for her? What if she, like Debbie, was failing to see His will because of her own blindness? Ida felt her face heat up at the thought.
Suddenly the sewing room door behind Ida opened, and Mamm’s voice asked, “How’s the dress coming, Ida?”
“Okay, I think.” Ida’s voice squeaked a little. “It’s a little dark in here.”
A chair scraped on the floor. Mamm sat down behind her, but Ida still didn’t turn around.
“Has Lois been speaking with you?” Mamm asked.
Ida breathed a sigh of relief. At least there would be no questions about the color of her face.
“What do you mean?” Ida snuck a quick look at Mamm. The concern written there caused her to turn all the way around and face her mamm.
“It’s not that hard to imagine,” Mamm said. “Since Friday evening has Lois said anything more to you about her dreams of joining the Englisha? Or of contacting Alvin Knepp in Philadelphia?”
Ida hung her head and didn’t answer.
Mamm clutched her arm. “Oh, Ida, tell me it’s not as bad as I fear!”
“Lois spoke quite a bit with Debbie and me,” Ida said.
“So she’s going to follow Alvin to Philadelphia? She is, isn’t she?”
Ida reached over to squeeze Mamm’s hand. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“How can Lois do this?” Mamm didn’t wait for an answer before she continued. “It must be that school Debbie went to that still draws Lois—all that higher learning, which only leads so many people downhill. That’s what has Lois fascinated the most. We thought she’d forgotten all about it this past year, but it’s all coming back now with Alvin’s leaving.”
“Debbie’s not to blame,” Ida whispered. “You can’t be thinking that, Mamm.”
Mamm moaned and held her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Ida. My youngest daughter is about to make a horrible mess of her life. She’s throwing away her heritage. She’s counting as nothing the price our forefathers paid to give us simplicity and closeness to Da Hah. My heart is breaking.”
“You can trust Debbie,” Ida said.
Mamm stared out the window. The clouds outside seemed to press in on the room. Surely tonight it would storm again, just like the storm raging inside this house. Who would have thought this winter would be so disruptive? Usually the cold months passed peacefully and gave the soul much-needed rest after the rush of the summer. Mamm’s fingers dug into Ida’s arm again. “I will speak with Daett tonight. Perhaps he can convince Lois before she does something foolish.”
“I hope so.” Ida tried to smile.
Mamm rose and opened the door. She left, shutting the door behind her.
Troubles began and ended in the heart of man, Ida knew. And only Da Hah could work some of those out to a satisfactory end. She breathed a quick prayer. “Please help us, dear Hah.” She turned back to her unfinished dress and worked the sewing machine’s foot petal until the clatter of the machine filled the room. Staying busy would help push back the dark thoughts about Lois. And she couldn’t do anything about Melvin Kanagy, even if, indeed, he planned to show interest in her. Warmth spread up her neck again. Nee, she mustn’t think about Melvin! Yet the image of his piercing eyes wouldn’t go away. Ida forced herself to focus on the line of thread in front of her. Da Hah would work things out…
Six
On Tuesday evening, Alvin Knepp threw his duffle on the motel bed. He walked over to the window and stared out at the bustling Philadelphia street. Dirty snow lay along the street, and automobiles streamed past. Unfamiliar smells surrounded him. His head throbbed with a severity that almost blinded him. What had possessed him to flee the community? Alvin wondered for the hundredth time. He wanted to run away from his problems, there was no question about that. What a coward he was! And now he couldn’t bring himself to return home.
The truth was he’d lived a sheltered life so far. Wasn’t it about time he faced life on his own terms for a change? And why not in Philadelphia? Nasty as this big city seemed once he’d arrived, hadn’t he wanted something he had never experienced before? Well, this was it. He sighed. Yah, his thoughts were logical and true, but that didn’t ease the sick sensation in his stomach. Nor did it lessen his knowledge of his own faults. He’d made a horrible mistake and must now live with it. And at home on the farm, Daett would likely lose the place. Not because his son had left. Nee, the loss of the farm was going to happen anyway, and that had been the final straw in Alvin’s decision to leave. That and the knowledge that his dream to be better than Paul Wagler was a hoot. How could he think he would ever be worthy of Debbie Watson’s affections when Wagler was in the picture? Against Paul, Alvin believed he couldn’t win her heart. Nee, he wasn’t man enough. Not when Paul could charm the socks off of any girl he chose to lay his eyes on. How could Debbie not be affected? All the rest of the girls in the community were. She had to be! As wunderbah a woman as she was, Debbie couldn’t be the only female who could stand up to Wagler’s charms.
And once the community learned that the Knepp farm had gone under, Alvin could never live long enough to see his reputation restored. And Debbie, despite her assurance to him at Verna’s wedding, wouldn’t desire any further association with him. He’d wanted to tell her of the worsening financial condition at home, but the words had stuck in his mouth. He kept telling himself there still was hope. A portion of the corn crop had still been in the fields. They’d been late getting it in, as always, but that was expected. Their reputation as lousy farmers was well established in the community, so that shame didn’t burn deep. What he hadn’t expected was the early winter and the lighter yield on the lower 40 acres.
He’d told Daett what lay ahead, but Daett had claimed the samples of corn Alvin had brought in from the fields weren’t representative of the truth. How could you open a few ears at random and get a true sample of the whole? And Daett didn’t want any further investigation either. Da Hah would do what He wished, Daett said. They would bow their heads and accept the result.
So it had been for years when it came to Daett and his farming ways. Alvin had been the last of a long line of brothers, all of whom had never raised a complaint over how things were done on the home farm. There on the slopes east of the ci
ty of Lewistown, farming was the height to which any Amish man could aspire. Farming was in their blood, and land owners who didn’t know how to farm were pitied and eventually scorned. Especially if they didn’t profit from the help others offered. Advice in these valleys was eagerly sought after and usually followed. That was true for everyone except Alvin’s daett. Daett had his ways, and that was it. Nothing would change his mind. Let the others talk of the latest farming techniques, such as when it was best to get in the crops, based on information someone gleaned from a talk with the old timers in the community. Knowledge that might point to a dry summer ahead or an extra cold winter. All this was mulled over and discussed in great detail after the Sunday meeting. Alvin listened but it was useless to try to apply anything he’d learned at home. Daett ignored the talk after the services or got in an occasional snort of derision. This year he’d sat on the lawn and chewed a grass stem while the others made plans to get their corn crops in early. At times the consensus had been so strong that Alvin had dared raise the issue the next day at the breakfast table.
Daett had laughed. “I won’t listen to old wives tales, Alvin. It’s the same thing whether the man at the Englisha tractor dealership says it or if Old Mose thinks his bones are aching. There’s nothing to it. And we’ll not stir ourselves to run around like chickens with our heads cut off over the spring planting. It will happen when it happens. Da Hah does all things in His own time, and man can do nothing about it.”
And that had been the end of the subject—only it hadn’t been the end. Their corn crop had gone in later than anyone else’s, even though a little hustle would have put the seed in the ground before the week of vicious thunderstorms set the planting back by another two weeks. And the early winter had caught them with corn still in the fields, which gave a yield that fell far short of what they needed to break even. Now winter had set in, and there was no money for next year’s planting. Nor was there money to pay the mortgage payments. Daett had continued to borrow small amounts—for years now. No complaints from Alvin had changed his daett’s ways. With the economy the way it was, the banker had informed Daett last summer that there would be no more loans given. They needed to pay down on the loan amount, not increase it.
Seeing Your Face Again Page 4
