Seeing Your Face Again

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Before Debbie could ask, Verna leaped up to attend to the soup pot. She spoke over her shoulder, “I’m afraid it’s worse than that, Debbie. Alvin left partly because of the state of his daett’s farm.”

  “And stole his father’s money?” Debbie asked, keeping her gaze glued to the floor. She might as well say the words. Verna likely thought them anyway.

  Verna wrinkled up her face. “I don’t buy that at all. And his daett isn’t saying that. He claims he’s been paying Alvin a fair wage since he turned twenty-one. That’s a few years now. And if Alvin didn’t waste it—which I don’t think he did—there’s no reason he wouldn’t have the funds for an adventure like he’s on.”

  Debbie sighed. She hadn’t known how much she wanted someone else to believe in Alvin’s innocence. Not that Bishop Beiler willingly accepted the charge against Alvin, but he had at least entertained it.

  “So this is an adventure of Alvin’s?” Debbie kept her voice steady. The thought troubled her. Alvin had caused a lot of grief for an adventure, and it didn’t seem like him really.

  Verna’s look was intense. “Maybe it’s a journey of self-discovery—that kind of adventure. I don’t know, but I think Alvin was tired of being under his daett’s thumb.”

  Debbie was all ears. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the farm has been going down the tubes, that much is for sure.” Verna had her back turned toward Debbie as she stirred the soup. “Deacon Mast isn’t saying much, which he shouldn’t, but I have my sources. The Knepp farm has been run into the ground by Alvin’s daett. It comes down to his refusal to upgrade his farming practices and general stubbornness. Things are so bad now the Knepps will need community and ministry help to plant this spring. Alvin might have wished to skedaddle before that happened.”

  “And run away from the problem?” Debbie didn’t like the sound of that in the least. Perhaps she was missing something. She waited while Verna framed her response.

  “I can see where you might think I’m saying Alvin is a coward, but it’s not like that in the community. A son who contradicts his daett—that’s the worst shame. And Alvin would never do such a thing. In that lies his real courage, Debbie. If he stayed, he may have had to speak badly of his daett.”

  “So his daett is Alvin’s problem?” Debbie asked.

  Verna winced before she spoke. “Alvin would never admit this, but his daett isn’t one for taking responsibility. Edwin’s been blaming Alvin for running the farm down, but most of us know that’s not true. However, with Alvin gone, what can Edwin say when the committee of men Deacon Mast assigns to run the farm tells him what he needs to do? He’ll have to face things and change his ways. There’ll be no one around to blame but himself if things don’t get done right.”

  Debbie took a deep breath. “So it is that bad then?”

  Verna shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. I’m guessing…”

  “And your guesses are often right,” Debbie added.

  “You mustn’t tell anyone what I told you.” Verna forced a smile. “‘I meant to encourage you, that’s all.”

  “And send me on a mission?” Debbie held up the address.

  “Yah that.” Vern admitted. “It may do some gut, but you must go tomorrow before the bann is in place. If you wait, you’ll be violating the bann if you visit him. That would really spell the end of your hopes for joining the community.”

  Twenty-One

  In the early morning hours of Saturday, Debbie rose and made her way out to her car in the partial darkness. Neither Emery nor Ida were up yet for chore time, so Debbie had successfully sneaked out of the house without waking anyone. She wasn’t trying to hide anything she told herself. If it wasn’t for the upcoming bann, she wouldn’t be in such a hurry to take the risky chance of going to see Alvin in Philadelphia. Besides, Saloma and Ida knew of her plans.

  Last night Debbie had told Saloma and Ida her intentions, and they understood—especially when she told them about her conversation with Verna. They had voiced no objections even when Debbie was frank about what her intentions were—that she wanted to speak to Alvin about returning to the community. Any chance at success in that department was apparently worthy of pursuit in their estimation. Ida had even stopped her constant hints that Debbie give a gut answer to Paul’s next request to drive her home from the hymn singing.

  At the first rest stop she came to, Debbie changed into an Englisha dress. She dared not put it on at home in case someone from the Beiler family should see her. Now well down the road, she felt it was the right thing to do. She drove and hummed one of the hymns the young folks sang at the last Sunday-evening hymn singing. She’d learned the tune, which was a faster melody attached to the community’s German favorite O Gott Vater, wir loben dich. Debbie tried a few lines, and even spoke the German words out loud. She sounded decent, Debbie told herself. At least close enough for an outsider still learning the language. She must take comfort in any progress she made right now. The thought that her venture into the Amish world might not continue was too painful to dwell on for long. If her trip were a success today…but what were the chances of that? The question darkened her brow. She’d already been over that ground a hundred times. She’d lain awake late last night and thought things through again. No other answer had come. There was one thing she knew for sure. Verna had been right with her assessment of Alvin at her wedding. And Verna was probably correct this time.

  Alvin must have left the community as much to spare his family from shame, as for his own sake. That and to find his own way for a change. His father sounded like quite a pill. Debbie had come from a home where she didn’t fit in, so she could understand what Alvin must have experienced with his father—at least a little. Only Alvin did the opposite from what she’d done. He’d left the community while she’d sought to join it. Yet, in the end, they were versions of the same thing. The thought comforted her.

  Perhaps if she shared this with Alvin it would help him understand his own journey and see his way back. Alvin must be made to understand that this was where their journeys parted ways if he didn’t return home. Debbie would never go back to her former life—even if the community rejected her. She hoped Alvin would come to the same conclusion—to stay within the community. In fact, Alvin might already be there and she might only have to help nudge him homeward. Perhaps he’d even return with her this afternoon! The thought sent chills up and down Debbie’s back. What an accomplishment that would be! It would silence the wagging tongues in the community. It might even convince Lois to see things in a different light. Alvin would have stories he could tell from his experiences that might speak to Lois better than what Debbie had shared. Yet, who did she think she was? She didn’t have that kind of power over Alvin. She ought to be thankful if the man even spoke with her once she arrived unannounced. He might not appreciate her efforts to influence his life.

  And were these not her Englisha ways that were pushing their way forward again? Verna hadn’t thought of that angle, but things were as plain as day now. No Amish woman would act like this—visit a boyfriend she’d lost. What a conflict this caused! Debbie was no longer one thing but not yet another either. She’d tried hard to live a suitable life for a future Amish and possibly an Amish frau for Alvin. She’d lately even used Ida as her example. She watched as Ida gave up her dreams of love with Paul and willingly accepted what she saw as the Lord’s leading toward Melvin. And Debbie had to admit that Ida had bloomed. Whatever Melvin told her on their Sunday evening times together had brought Ida out of her shell.

  Debbie brought her thoughts back to the subject at hand as the suburbs of Philadelphia came up. The speed limit on the Pennsylvania Turnpike dropped, and Debbie slowed down. She checked the directions she’d written out. She had the map open on the passenger seat. Philadelphia wasn’t familiar to her, but the apartment where Alvin stayed was close to an Interstate. It couldn’t be that hard to find. She let her mind wander as she turned off the turnpike onto Interstate 422. The miles
continued. How had Alvin lived since he left the community? Had his bashfulness gotten in the way out here in the big, wide world? She couldn’t imagine him in Philadelphia. She’d always seen him in plain clothing busy at work on the farm or silently seated on a church bench at Sunday meetings. Even at the church dinner tables or at the hymn singings Alvin never joined in with the jokes. If someone addressed him, he responded of course, but that hadn’t been very often. Alvin was the silent type. But she’d always sensed an untapped strength that ran deep inside his stillness. And no doubt in the Englisha world Alvin would have to rely on that strength. He would either grow into a better person or fall apart. No one could survive out here without some source of strength. No doubt Minister Kanagy would think her a heretic to even entertain such thoughts. How could one become a better person in the Englisha world? But she couldn’t help it. It seemed like the truth.

  Debbie took the correct exit and stopped at the intersection. She turned right and looked at the street names. The sight of Park Heights Apartments and the area that surrounded it brought a pleased look to her face. Already she had evidence that Alvin hadn’t fallen apart. He must have found a decent job to afford the rent on an apartment in this well-kept area. Unless, of course, Verna and she were wrong and Alvin had used stolen money to afford such a neighborhood. The thought burned through Debbie’s mind, but she pushed it away. Alvin was a decent man and no thief. He wouldn’t steal money, nor would he survive on credit.

  Debbie pulled into the parking lot and took the elevator to the fifth floor. Now that she was here, her heart was pounding. Her boldness also left her, but at least she wasn’t drawing undue attention since she was wearing Englisha clothes. That choice had been the correct one. She tried to still her beating heart as she knocked on the door. She waited. When nothing happened, she knocked again. When there was still no answer, she checked the number on her paper. It was the correct one. Perhaps Alvin was at work—wherever that was. She couldn’t imagine him anywhere else.

  Well, she would wait for him. If he didn’t come home before lunch, she would find a place to eat and then continue to wait. Alvin would surely be home by four at the latest. When he returned, their talk wouldn’t take that long. She should be back to the Beiler farm by midnight, at the worst. Perhaps she should knock on a few of the adjoining doors to ask if Alvin Knepp lived here, just to make sure. A better choice, Debbie decided, was to check the lobby downstairs. Tenant names were probably listed somewhere—on the mailboxes at least. She took the elevator down and checked the names for the fifth floor. Alvin’s was there, right where it was supposed to be. Debbie sighed and waited in the lobby for a few minutes. When a couple people gave her strange glances, Debbie retreated to her car. She’d be able to spot Alvin from here, so she’d just relax and wait.

  As the minutes passed her thoughts drifted back to the community. Ida and Saloma would be busy in the kitchen by now. She should be with them to help out, but right now this was more important. She shouldn’t feel guilty. After twenty minutes or so, Debbie noticed a couple coming down the street accompanied by a huge dog. They walked across the parking lot, laughing at something the woman had said. Just as she was beginning to turn away, Debbie looked closer. Was the man Alvin? How could it be? Alvin with an Englisha woman? And laughing with her like he had no shyness left in his body? “It can’t be!” Debbie whispered. Her hand raced to the door handle, and she almost pulled it open. She was ready to leap out and call after him. What she planned to say, she had no idea. But they were stopped now, and she could see the man’s face clearly. It was Alvin. There was no doubt about that.

  Debbie couldn’t see the woman’s face that well because she was wrapped up in a bright red scarf. But the woman was beautiful—that much she could tell. Alvin laughed again at something she said, even throwing his head back in obvious delight. Deep stabs of pain ran through Debbie. Her hands turned cold. Alvin had found a girlfriend out here in her world. The truth was plain to see. It was there right in front of her eyes. He’d never been that comfortable with her.

  Debbie stayed put, her hands back on the steering wheel until the two disappeared inside. She couldn’t help but notice how they walked closely side by side. She stayed frozen for long minutes in the car. Part of her wanted to rush out and demand an explanation from Alvin. Why was he doing this to her? Hadn’t she made her feelings plain? But those words had been said to the Amish Alvin. This man was someone else entirely. His hair had been cut short, and he had on Englisha clothing. That she’d expected, but the woman? No, it couldn’t be—and yet it was.

  Debbie clung to the steering wheel as great sobs burst out. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t see to drive. She wanted the comfort of the Beilers’ living room, the soft murmur of the household as people stirred around her.

  “How could you, Alvin?” She practically screamed the words. Long moments later, Debbie gathered herself together and drove out of the parking lot while brushing away the tears. A car swerved away from her, its horn blasting. Debbie raced off, in which direction she didn’t care. Finally, she noticed a city park. A parking place was available. She pulled in and turned off the engine. She was in no condition to drive. Not until she could get control of her emotions.

  Sobs racked her chest as she stumbled into the park and found a bench to sit on. Now what was she going to do? This was something she was going to have to bear alone. She couldn’t tell the Beilers. They would think Alvin all the more hopeless, to say nothing of how they would question her judgment. Here she thought she could drive up to the city and snatch Alvin from the jaws of the world. Hah! How full of herself she’d been.

  “We were wrong, Verna,” Debbie said into the open air. “Alvin’s in love, and it’s certainly not with me. He’s never coming back.”

  Twenty-Two

  While Debbie was in Philadelphia, Ida was cleaning her bedroom upstairs. She heard a car drive in the lane. She rushed over to the window and saw an Englisha girl climb out of her car that was parked by the hitching post. Ida couldn’t see the girl’s face, but there was something familiar…but what? Who would be arriving on a Saturday afternoon for a visit without her knowing? Perhaps Mamm was expecting someone but had forgotten to mention it? Ida left the broom and dust cloth and hurried downstairs. Mamm was already at the front door when Ida arrived in the living room.

  “Is this someone you’re expecting?” Ida asked.

  Mamm didn’t answer as she opened the door. She gasped and stepped back, letting go of the door, which swung shut with a snap.

  Ida ran to Mamm’s side and took her by the arm. “Who is it?”

  Her face white, Mamm clutched Ida for support. There could only be one explanation—but surely not that. It couldn’t have been Lois. Ida would have recognized her sister, even with only a side view. Still, from Mamm’s reaction Ida asked, “Was it Lois?”

  When Mamm didn’t say anything, that was answer enough. Ida helped Mamm to her rocker, and then heard a quick knock on the front door.

  “Please answer the door,” Mamm managed to whisper. “Lois is still our daughter, even if she looks like an Englisha.’

  Ida pulled the front door open. Lois’s concerned face peered at her. Ida stared. Everything about her sister had changed. Lois’s hair was uncovered and cut short, with curls wavy around her head. Her dress was one of the most colorful Englisha ones Ida had ever seen. Its length stopped well above the knees. Lois’s shoes were bright blue. Ida brought her gaze back to Lois’s face. “What are you doing here dressed like that? You scared Mamm badly.”

  A momentary look of grief flashed across Lois’s eyes, but it vanished in seconds. “It’s a free world, isn’t it? And Mamm said I could visit.”

  “Not like this!” Ida gave Lois another sharp glance. “You look like something, well, awful. And what have you done to your beautiful, long hair?”

  “It’s even more beautiful now, isn’t it?” Lois ran her fingers through the cloud of curls before shaking her head to make them bo
unce.

  “Maybe the Englisha think so.” Ida didn’t move from the doorway. “But you knew what we would think. You should have known better. And you should have at least worn a covering.”

  Lois shrugged. “Where’s Mamm?”

  Daett came across the lawn at a fast clip, too late for Lois to flee even if she wished to, which she obviously didn’t.

  “You’re being awful to me this morning,” Lois said, sounding hurt.

  “It’s Daett I’m worried about now.”

  Ida’s gaze over her shoulder finally caused Lois to turn around and look toward the barn. “Oh no!” She groaned. “Maybe I should leave.”

  “It’s a little late for that.” Ida stepped out on the porch and closed the front door behind her. Mamm might as well be shielded from what was about to happen, even though she would still be able to hear clearly from her seat on the rocker.

  Daett came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the porch steps and stared up at Lois. “Is this who I think it is?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and motioned toward the car. “And you’re driving a car?”

  “What did you expect I was going to do?” Lois’s voice was clipped. “I’ve joined the Englisha, Daett. That’s what they do.”

  Daett came up the steps and faced Lois. “Then you can get right back into that car of yours and drive back out the lane. I will not have you here like this.”

  Lois’s hands shook.

  Ida couldn’t speak. What had Lois expected from Mamm and Daett? A red carpet? But then Lois always had been a little scatterbrained.

  “But Debbie’s here all the time, and she drives a car,” Lois said, her voice rising.

  “You are my daughter. And Debbie doesn’t act like this.” Daett motioned with his hand toward Lois’s outfit. “And she dresses decently.”

  “I am decent!” Lois wailed. “You’re just throwing me out because I don’t plan to stay Amish. That’s why you like Debbie over me.”