Seeing Your Face Again

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Please dear Hah,” Ida prayed silently, “don’t let this sorrow be too much for this young heart. Heal the images Willard has seen of his father mangled in death. Give him hope for the future. Let Willard know that You are still a gracious God even though You must deal with us in our sins and trespasses.”

  When the grave was filled, Willard quieted down, his body no longer shaking. Ida waited until Bishop Troyer moved away from the gravesite before she followed with Melvin’s children in tow. The rest of the family made way for her, as if they knew what her intentions were. At the edge of the graveyard Ida paused and went down on her knees in the soft grass. One by one, she hugged each of the children—even Willard, who still had tears in his eyes.

  “I have to go now,” Ida whispered. “Your daett’s family will take care of you.”

  “Won’t we see you again?” Rosa’s eyes shimmered.

  “Surely you’ll come around once in a while,” Willard said, his voice catching.

  Ida pressed back the tears. “I’ll see you in church sometimes, but I won’t be coming around the house anymore. Your daett and I weren’t married. I wasn’t…” Ida stopped, unable to go on. The words would have sounded harsh and cruel, yet they were true. She wasn’t their mamm. It was perhaps better if someone else explained further. Someone who could say things better than she could.

  Willard nodded, but it didn’t look like he comprehended fully what she meant. But then who could completely understand this tragedy? “You’ll all be okay,” Ida told them. “It’ll never be quite the same again for any of you—nor for me. But Da Hah will see that we’re taken care of. His heart has a special place for…” Again Ida stopped. She just couldn’t say the awful word “orphans.” These were precious children, and she didn’t want their minds seared with feelings that they were less than anyone else. Melvin’s brothers and sisters would see to it that they were raised like they were their own.

  Out of the corner of her eye Ida saw Minster Kanagy approach. She rose to her feet, and glanced at him.

  His look asked, “Are you done? Are you ready?”

  Ida nodded. “Thanks for giving me this time with them.”

  Minster Kanagy’s face softened. “You have given of your best, Ida. Even in this time of your own sorrow. I pray Da Hah will bless you with a full life. Now that He has taken, Da Hah will surely give again.”

  “I will pray for Barbara and you,” Ida responded.

  Gratefulness rushed across Minister Kanagy’s face. “Thank you, Ida. Your kind heart is a credit to us all. We continue to hope for the best.”

  Ida hung her head and moved back a step as Barbara and Minister Kanagy’s eldest daughter, Wilma, approached for the children. Another of the Kanagy sisters came up, and Ida turned to go. When she glanced over her shoulder, the women had their arms securely around the little ones. She mustn’t look back again, Ida told herself as she forced her feet onward. Debbie was waiting when she arrived at the buggy. Emery had Red Rover untied.

  “I’ll follow you back to Melvin’s place and help unhitch,” Emery said as Ida and Debbie climbed into the buggy.

  It felt good to be taken care of this way, Ida thought. It comforted her in a way, now that the load of the past few days was behind her. Loneliness rose inside of her, a dark, haunting force. She drew in a deep breath as the emotions flooded over her. This too must be faced. Ida took the reins in her hands. Emery slapped Red Rover’s neck gently, and they were off. The horse’s hooves beat on the pavement, but otherwise they rode along in a heavy silence. Even Debbie seemed lost in her thoughts.

  Ida looked behind them and saw Emery following in his buggy. She was thankful he stayed close behind for the whole ride. It was as if Emery wished to carry her along by the strength of his presence.

  Ida pulled into the driveway at Melvin’s place and stopped beside the barn. Emery let his horse stand as he came over to unhitch.

  “Are we staying for the meal?” Emery asked.

  “I need to go home,” Ida replied without hesitation. “But you and Debbie can stay.”

  “I’ll take you home then,” Emery said.

  Debbie added her own decision. “And I’ll go with you.”

  Ida didn’t protest, other than to say, “It’s gut enough if I go with Debbie.” It would be right to have Debbie with her. Tomorrow she would be strong again, if Da Hah gave her grace. She had said her goodbyes to Melvin’s children, and it was best if she didn’t see them again today. Emery nodded and took Red Rover into the barn. He came out moments later with Buttercup. Ida held up the shafts and Debbie helped fasten the tugs on the side opposite Emery. They were on their way moments later, Debbie at the reins this time.

  “Thanks for coming home with me.” Ida gave Debbie a weak smile.

  “I’m making tea and chicken soup when we get to the house,” Debbie said. “You’re in for the collapse of your life.”

  Ida leaned back on the buggy seat. Her body and mind were numb. She allowed the tears to run down her cheeks. Sobs racked her chest. “I think it’s already started.”

  Forty-One

  Alvin drove his buggy into Melvin’s lane after the burial service and caught a glimpse of Ida’s buggy headed in the other direction. He sighed. Surely Ida would have Debbie with her. The two must have decided to leave at once rather than stay for the meal the community women had prepared. He could understand Ida’s desire to leave. He’d seen her say her goodbyes to Melvin’s children at the graveyard. The whispers around him had confirmed what he already suspected. The Kanagy family, not Ida, would take care of Melvin’s orphans.

  That he understood, although when Ida hugged each child in turn the scene had been a sad one. Several of the women who stood near him sniffled and wiped their eyes. Ida must have grown close to the children in the short time she’d dated Melvin. That was also something he could understand. Ida would have made a gut mamm. The whole situation was a tragedy beyond comprehension. But such were Da Hah’s ways, and His people would not question them. He hadn’t been out in the Englisha world long enough to have taken up doubts. At least, not yet.

  Alvin pulled to a stop beside the barn. Emery came out to help him unhitch. The people were kind to him today. Not that he had expected otherwise, but the bann hung over his head. If he stayed for the noon meal, the scene wouldn’t be pretty. He would have to sit by himself in some corner. But it was the way it was done.

  Emery greeted him with a warm smile. “Back home are you?”

  “For now.” Alvin let the comment stand, and Emery seemed satisfied. He held the shafts as Alvin led his horse forward. He didn’t feel up to further explanations, and Emery didn’t seem curious enough to ask more questions. Emery stayed behind as Alvin took his horse into the barn.

  Last night Alvin hadn’t given his mamm and daett much explanation for his return. They had their own opinion on the matter, he was sure, and he didn’t want to start a disagreement. Their version was gut enough for now. They thought Melvin’s death had brought him home. The truth was that Melvin’s death had affected him, but he’d been ready to return anyway. This had provided a better reentry point than he’d dared hope for. The community people liked to understand things, and when he arrived at Melvin’s funeral the turn of events made a lot of sense to them. They thought the same as his parents did. He could tell by the looks they’d given him all day and by the occasional whisper he overheard.

  “Thank Da Hah some gut is coming out of this tragedy.”

  “Yah, I think Melvin would be glad to see it.”

  Alvin’s mamm had written on Wednesday night with the news of Melvin’s death, and the letter had been in his mailbox on Friday evening when he arrived home early from work. He’d rushed about and caught the Greyhound Bus to Mifflinburg. He arrived by taxi at his mamm and daett’s place in the early morning hours.

  They hadn’t appeared surprised by his appearance. They’d assumed Melvin’s tragic death had pushed him to think about the condition of his own soul. Alvin figu
red they hoped he wanted to repent and seek peace with the community. They were right in that he did want peace. And he did want a new start. None of which would be easy, but he had to begin somewhere. If he accepted the shame of being in the bann in public like he had accepted it from his parents this morning, that would be the first step.

  As much as he wanted to see and speak with Debbie, it was best if she weren’t here to see his first humiliation in front of the community. Tomorrow there would be a repeat if he went to the services. And, yah, he would go, but by then the first blush of the shame would have worn down. The stares wouldn’t be quite as intense nor would the emotions rise in his chest quite so severely. When Debbie saw his disgraced condition, she would have to decide what she wanted to do. She had plenty of reasons to never speak with him again. Regardless of that, Alvin was back to stay. He would not run again. Out there in the world was much worse than anything the community had for him. Crystal, with her kind looks and pleasing personality, had made that clear. Much sorrow and anguish lay hidden beneath the surface.

  Alvin caught his breath when Deacon Mast stepped out from the shadows of the barn.

  The deacon stuck out his hand in greeting. “Gut to see you back, Alvin. Are you staying for the noon meal?”

  Alvin swallowed hard. The deacon was doing his duty, and this wasn’t easy for either of them. Deacon Mast had a tense look on his face as Alvin answered, “Yah, I planned to.”

  Deacon Mast put his hands in his pockets. “You know, of course, Alvin, that…well…you’ll have to sit by yourself. You’re in the bann, you know.”

  “I know.” Alvin nodded. “It’s okay. I want to make peace with the community.”

  Deacon Mast’s countenance lightened considerably. “You’ll be at the ministers’ meeting tomorrow morning then? We have the baptismal class, so they will have to listen in. It will be a gut lesson for all of them—seeing a man repent.” Deacon Mast looked intently at Alvin. “So we can speak in detail then tomorrow? With the other ministers? You’ll be there?”

  Alvin tried to keep the dismay from his face. He would have to confess his sins in front of the baptismal class. This was almost too much shame to bear. Then he’d eventually have to confess in front of the entire community. Alvin worked at the lump in his throat. “I’ll be there.”

  Deacon Mast almost glowed. “You’ll not regret this decision, Alvin. Peace in one’s heart cannot be purchased at any price. Only Da Hah can give it when we change our ways and make our things right with our fellow man. Melvin would be glad to see you doing this.”

  Alvin hesitated. His mind whirled with the knowledge that Debbie would hear all his sins spoken out loud tomorrow morning. Alvin finally found his voice again. “I planned to come back soon, so it wasn’t just Melvin’s passing. But before my plans to return were finalized, I got the letter from Mamm…”

  Deacon Mast slapped Alvin on the back. “I understand, son. We’ll make things as easy for you as possible. Believe me, I’ll do my part. Your mamm and daett need you back home. The farm’s a mess, which you may or may not know about. You’ll receive a great welcome from everyone—after you make things right, of course.”

  “I understand,” Alvin said. Someone was walking past them with a horse, and Alvin didn’t wish anyone to overhear this conversation.

  “I will go in and personally see that a table is set aside for you.” Deacon Mast didn’t wait for an answer. He headed toward the house.

  Alvin had no option but to follow. He would rather have sneaked into the house, but there really was no way to sneak around anyway. He was in the bann, and might as well have bright city lights flashing from the top of his head.

  The deacon made a beeline across the lawn, not pausing to speak with anyone. Alvin felt the skin under his collar grow warmer with each step, but he stayed with the deacon as they entered the house. Deacon Mast motioned toward a bench with his hand. “Sit back there for now.”

  Benches had been set up in the living room, and a line of people were already filing past the big dining room table where the younger girls dished out the food cafeteria style. Several of them looked up at him.

  Alvin ducked his head and moved to the far corner of the room.

  Deacon Mast took his place in the food line, and everyone knew what his plans were. The plate of food the deacon filled wouldn’t be for himself, otherwise he would have his frau by his side as they went through the line.

  Alvin kept his gaze downward. No one made any move to approach him or sit beside him. They couldn’t. He was in the bann. He fidgeted until Deacon Mast came across the living room with a plate of food. It looked gut, but Alvin wasn’t sure he could get a single bite down. There were small children seated nearby. Most of them were staring at him openly. At least the adults were too well mannered for any lengthy looks.

  “Here you are!” Deacon Mast announced. “It’s already been prayed over.”

  “Thank you,” Alvin said. He set the plate on his lap and stuck the fork into the potato salad. Slowly he lifted the fork to his mouth. He chewed and followed it with a bite of baloney sandwich. He was hungry and that helped. He would live through this, he told himself. Already the children had lost interest. Most of them had turned their attention back to their own plates. By the time he was halfway through, even the adults seemed wrapped in their own deep conversations.

  Alvin gulped the last bites and took the plate to the kitchen where some of the women were already busy washing dishes. Bishop Beiler’s frau, Saloma, gave him a warm smile and whispered, “I’m glad you’re back, Alvin.”

  “How’s Ida doing?” Alvin ventured. It didn’t seem gut manners to ignore that question now that she’d made the effort to speak with him.

  A shadow crossed Saloma’s face. “She’s cut to the heart. Ida loved Melvin, but Da Hah has His ways. He knows best.”

  “Yah,” Alvin agreed. He repeated the words he’d heard since childhood. “Even when we don’t understand.”

  “Melvin would be glad to see you here today.” A kind look crept over Saloma’s face. “I hope you plan to stay.”

  Alvin nodded and retreated from the kitchen before an explanation came out of his mouth. It would be too cumbersome to explain that he’d already been planning to come home before he heard of Melvin’s death. His attempt with the deacon had gone nowhere. He would just let the matter rest.

  Alvin returned to the barn and retrieved his horse. Emery didn’t show up to help with the buggy, and no one else offered. But it wasn’t as if anyone stood around and watched either. He was in the bann, and most of the people would need to be cautious about contact with him until the matter was resolved. Well, he would begin that process tomorrow morning. Deacon Mast had made that part easy. Now if he could get past Minister Kanagy he’d have clear waters to sail in.

  Alvin twitched the reins and guided his horse down the lane. Twenty minutes later he pulled into his own driveway. His parents’ buggy was parked beside the barn, and Alvin glanced toward the house in surprise. Why were they home already? It wasn’t their usual routine. Had they been ashamed of the scene they knew would play out at Melvin’s place? Had they come straight home from the graveyard? Alvin’s shoulders sagged. He hadn’t even noticed their early departure. It was high time he paid more attention and perhaps had a long talk with them. He owed them that much. They had questions he needed to answer, and he had things that needed saying.

  Alvin unhitched, put his horse in his stall, measured grain into the feed box, and walked to the house. His mamm and daett were waiting in the living room.

  “Sit!” Alvin’s daett ordered without any wasted time in small talk. “I want to know what’s going on with you.”

  “Please, Edwin,” Mamm begged.

  The stern expression on Daett’s face didn’t change. “The silence has been long enough, Helen. I want this explained. Alvin’s not barging in here without some explanation. This is still my house, the last I checked.”

  “But the funeral was toda
y,” Mamm said.

  Daett dismissed the objection with a wave of his hand. He turned his attention to Alvin. “The funeral’s over. Have you been speaking with the committee who’s now overseeing my farm? Have they lured you back? Made you promises?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Daett.” Alvin felt a chill spread through his body. He was going to stand up for himself, he reminded himself.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  But Alvin noticed relief spreading across his daett’s face.

  “Well, then, perhaps you’re home to supply some needed support for me,” Daett continued. “I never thought the day would come when I’d need any.” Daett paused and frowned. “Not that I can’t handle things on my own. The committee has things all tied up so I can’t move right or left, let alone straight forward. But they will listen if you speak with them for us, Alvin.”

  Alvin struggled to keep his voice even. “I’m not on your side, Daett. Not when it comes to the farm. You know I have ideas that should improve things around here.”

  “Edwin, please, must you do this now?” Mamm interjected again.

  Daett didn’t hesitate. “Later will make this no easier, Helen.”

  Alvin decided he’d better speak his mind. It was now or never.

  “Mamm wrote me about what’s happening to the farm. She asked me to come home, and that’s part of the reason I’m here. The other part is that I should never have left in the first place. I’m sorry I did. I’m sorry that I couldn’t face the shame of what I knew was coming—once people found out the financial condition of the farm and decided to place part of the blame on me. But I’m back. Today I spoke with Deacon Mast, and I will have my situation straightened out with the church soon. Beyond that, I’m your son, Daett. Yah, I’m hopeful the committee will trust me. But that’s because I’ll do what they want done. We can save the farm, Daett. You know we can. But you need to let me run things.”