“But...in this instance, I sort of am.”
“Nein. You’re a person who misunderstood the rules and is attempting to make that right.”
His words eased some of the worry from her face, though not all of it. Fortunately, Officer Sanchez picked that moment to appear in front of them.
“Sorry about the wait. I was covering for JoAnn while she took a late lunch break. Come on back, and bring those boxes with you.”
She led them into a back room that held four desks. Three of them were covered with stacks of paper, manuals and old coffee cups. Sanchez must have guessed what Daniel was thinking, because she shrugged her shoulders, sat down with a sigh and motioned to the chairs across from her.
“My fellow officers are a mess. They make fun of me for keeping such a clean desktop.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “They say it’s the sign of a sick mind. I say at least I can find my keys at the end of the day.”
Daniel immediately recognized her as a kindred spirit, or at least he didn’t think she was the type of officer to slap the cuffs on them first and ask questions later. Becca still seemed a bit tense. She was jiggling her knees so that the plants threatened to fall out of the box, and her hands were clutching the sides of the box so tightly that the phrase white-knuckling it came to mind.
Officer Sanchez turned her attention to Becca. “Miss...”
“Schwartz. Becca Schwartz, and this is my neighbor, Daniel Glick.”
“Pleased to meet you both. I’m Officer Sanchez, as I guess you noticed from the name tag. Why don’t you set that box on my desk before you spill dirt everywhere? That would make Johnson real happy, to come in and see potting soil all over my desk. He’d never let me hear the end of it.”
Becca placed the box on the desk, then nudged it toward the officer. Clutching her hands in her lap, she launched into her explanation. “I didn’t know what they were. I should have known. I should have read the entire pamphlet, but I was trying to make some extra money so my little bruder could buy a buggy, and I didn’t stop to consider the nature of what I was doing.”
She pulled in a deep breath as if she was about to dive deep, and plunged back into her explanation. “Daniel is the one who noticed what kind of plants they were. He explained to me that I need a permit or certification or something, which I don’t have. And I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if I should burn them or toss them or what. So I thought the best thing was simply to bring them to you and confess.”
Sanchez waited, her eyebrows raised as if she was preparing herself for another deluge of words, but Becca was apparently finished explaining. She rubbed the palms of her hands across her apron, glanced at Daniel, then turned back toward the officer.
“Okay.” Sanchez leaned forward, picked up a pen and used it to push around some of the leaves on the plant nearest her. “These are plainly hemp, not marijuana, and it’s true you do need a license to grow a hemp crop. Once you realized your mistake, you could have destroyed the plants—”
“I was afraid my rooster would get into them if I simply tossed them into the compost pile, or my little schweschdern might find them. I was afraid it would make them sick or even...even high.”
“Nope. Hemp can’t do that.”
Becca had tucked the pamphlet into her box, and Sanchez reached for it, pausing to ask, “May I?”
“Ya. Of course.”
She perused it for a minute. “Interesting. It sounds to me like instead of applying for their own permit, this company is depending on small independent growers to do their work for them. Saves them money and paperwork. Do you mind if I keep this?”
“Not at all.”
Sanchez turned to Daniel. “Sir, you can place those two boxes over there, against the wall. I’ll see that these are properly disposed of. Thank you for bringing them in.”
“That’s it?” Becca hopped to her feet as soon as Sanchez stood. “You’re not going to interrogate us or cuff us or read us our rights?”
If Daniel wasn’t mistaken, a smile twitched at the corner of Sanchez’s mouth, but she managed to maintain a thoughtful look as if she were seriously considering doing any of those things. Finally she shook her head and said, “I don’t think that will be necessary seeing as how you made us aware of the situation and brought in the plants. You did bring in all of the plants?”
“Oh, ya. These three boxes, they’re all I purchased. Of course they were only seeds when they arrived in the mail, but I’ve been tending to them every day and they grow quite fast. They were supposed to fetch $6 a plant, but I guess that’s money I’ll never see.”
“You might consider reporting your experience to the Better Business Bureau, and I’ll turn this pamphlet over to my supervisor.”
She walked them back to the front of the station. When they stepped out into the waning sunlight of a beautiful fall day, Becca pulled in a deep breath.
“Seems like we were in there forever.”
Daniel glanced at his watch. “Less than thirty minutes.”
“Longest thirty minutes of my life.”
“Were you really worried?” He put his hand in the crook of her elbow and guided her toward the buggy.
“Worried? I kept thinking that my mamm would have to deal with my siblings all by herself, and that we couldn’t afford a lawyer even if we knew one, and that I wouldn’t look gut in a prison jumpsuit.”
Daniel couldn’t help laughing at her last point. “Ya. Prison jumpsuits definitely aren’t Plain.”
By the time he’d unhitched Constance from the post and hopped up into the buggy, Becca was leaning forward, arms crossed and resting on her knees, head bowed and face hidden in her arms.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, but it is.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“I wasted fifty dollars on those plants.” She sat up and glared at him, as if he’d been the one to suggest she buy them in the first place. “Do you realize how much fifty dollars is?”
“Ya, I think I do.”
“It’s a lot of eggs, I’ll tell you that. Quite a few of them, since I only charge $3.50 for a dozen. Let’s see...that’s...let me see how many eggs that is.” She wrinkled her brow as she tried to do the math.
“Around one hundred and sixty-eight.”
“How did you figure that so fast?”
“Simple math. It’s a lot of eggs.”
“Obviously.”
“I think you need some ice cream.”
“I can’t afford ice cream!” She positioned herself in the corner of the buggy, studying him as if he’d lost his mind.
“My treat.” Before she could say another word, he turned toward Howie’s.
It wasn’t until they were settled at a picnic table with cups of ice cream in front of them—strawberry for Becca and chocolate for him—that she seemed to pull herself out of her funk.
“I’ll think of something. This is a setback, for sure and certain it is, but it’s not the end. Gotte probably has something better in mind. I need to keep the faith, not give up. I need to move on and leave what’s done—including those hemp plants—in the past.” She was accentuating each phrase with her spoon and a good amount of strawberry ice cream had dripped across the table.
Daniel snagged one of their napkins and wiped it up before she stuck her sleeve in the mess.
“Danki.”
“Gem Gschehne.”
“You must think I’m crazy.”
“Not at all. It’s only that...well, never mind.”
But he’d already stepped his foot in it. No way Becca was going to let him back out.
“Only what?” She stuck her spoon into her half-filled ice cream cup and crossed her arms. “Only what? You might as well say it. Whatever it is, you’ve got it written all over your face.”
�
�I do?”
“Ya. Tell me how I’m wrong.”
He actually thought she was adorable, but he wasn’t about to say that. Whoever married Becca Schwartz would never suffer from boredom or monotony.
“You said that Gotte probably has something better in mind for you, but it seems to me that Gotte isn’t a wishing well. I don’t think faith works like that.”
“What?” Now Becca dipped her chin and gave him a look that suggested trouble was coming. “Did I say that Gotte was a wishing well?”
“Nein, but the way you were talking, like if you do the right thing, pray the right prayer, have the right attitude, then the answer would pop up. I’m not sure that’s what the Bible promises.”
He thought she would argue, but instead, she stared at her ice cream, picked up the spoon and took another tenuous bite.
“I didn’t mean to criticize.”
“No, you’re right. I try to be upbeat and optimistic, but most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing. I want to help my family. Surely I can. If I just hit on the right idea, I could improve our situation. And I believe that Gotte wants that. He wants what is best for my family—”
“He’s already given your family what they need, Becca.”
“And what is that?”
“Each other.”
* * *
The setting sun cast a long shadow across the fields as they made their way home. The ice cream had made Becca sleepy—that and the emotional highs and lows of the last few hours.
Realizing her plants were illegal.
Agonizing over what to do with them.
Deciding to go to the police.
Daniel insisting on going with her.
The understanding police officer.
And beyond all of that, Daniel’s assertion that Gotte had given her family what they need.
“Why are we so poor?” she asked, darting her glance his way, then back out toward the October evening.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“If Gotte has given us what we need, why are we so poor?”
“Are you?”
“You know we are. We are. You are. The neighbors around us are. We definitely don’t live in the affluent part of Shipshewana.”
“Who decides what it even means to be affluent?”
“Oh, come on.” She again cornered herself in the buggy and scrutinized him in the waning light. “Affluent. You’re familiar with the word. It would mean that there’s a gut layer of top soil on your farm, and that you don’t have to try to fit ten people into one buggy, and that you would have a home with an adequate roof on it. That kind of affluent.”
Instead of being offended, he laughed. Becca was learning that underneath his gruff exterior, Daniel Glick had a sunny disposition. Who would have guessed?
“I suppose my point is that we’re not hungry and we’re not alone. Your family, they have their health and they have each other.”
“You’re alone.”
Daniel waved that away. He didn’t even attempt to address it. “Your community is a gut one. I’ve only met a few people so far, but no one seems to look down on anyone else. They seem helpful. As you have pointed out on more than one occasion, plenty of people have offered to help me.”
“And yet you turned them down. Care to explain that? Because I still don’t understand.”
“I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Becca.”
“Well, Daniel. I didn’t say you owed me one. I was asking a simple question, a neighborly question. You were just pointing out the value of having helpful neighbors and family around, and yet you’re all alone. What is that about?”
“It’s not about anything.” He frowned at Constance, something Becca had never seen him do before.
“Why are you living alone?”
“Again, none of your business.” He pushed his hat farther down on his head, nearly covering his eyes, which had taken on a decidedly hostile glint.
“And how did you afford this horse?”
“That again?”
“Yes, that again. What are you hiding, Daniel? Or what are you hiding from?”
He glanced skyward, as if petitioning the Lord for answers. He pulled in a deep breath and finally glanced her way. “I was only saying that perhaps you don’t need to feel so anxious. Gotte is still in control. We can rest in that knowledge.”
Which had such a ring of truth to it that Becca felt a tad guilty about prodding him for information. “When you explain it that way, I suppose you’re right. We do have much to be thankful for. It’s only that life is so hard.”
“Maybe it’s supposed to be.”
“Hard?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s a depressing thought.”
Daniel laughed as he directed Constance off the main road. “Growing up, my dat used to ask me this question. Is life a joy to be lived or a problem to be solved?”
“I’ll take joy.”
“Ya, that was my answer, too, but the older I get, the more I understand that there are many problems to be solved or at least trials to be endured. The real question is whether we can maintain a joyful attitude during the process.”
He guided Constance down her lane and pulled to a stop in front of the house.
“You could have driven on to the barn—our barn.”
“I figured you might have done enough problem-solving for one day. You didn’t need to face Carl-the-bad-tempered-rooster after the last few hours you’ve been through.”
At that exact moment, the animal in question dashed across the yard, crowing and flapping his wings as he chased one of the barn kittens. Hot on Carl’s tail was Cola, beagle ears bouncing, tail pointed high, eyes locked in on the rooster.
Becca placed a hand over her mouth, afraid that if she started laughing, she’d never stop. She hopped out of the buggy, waved goodbye and dashed up the steps. As he drove away, her mind replayed his words. There are many problems to be solved or at least trials to be endured. The real question is whether we can maintain a joyful attitude. She couldn’t help wondering how Daniel could be so wise at such a young age.
Or at least he seemed wise to her.
He certainly wasn’t dashing around starting new projects every week. No, Daniel’s method was slow and steady, and she could probably stand to learn from that.
Though there was something about him, some mystery, that he was holding close, and she meant to solve it.
She walked into the kitchen as dinner was being served. Her mamm smiled and her dat nodded, and her little schweschdern scooted over to allow her a place on the bench.
They all bowed their heads and silently thanked the Lord for the food. And in that moment, Becca meant it. She didn’t much care that once again they were having soup and sandwiches. She was thinking about what Daniel had said, that they really did have all they needed.
She couldn’t hold on to it, though.
The peace and contentment slipped away like water you tried to cup in your hand. Her bruder Clyde was talking about a buggy he’d seen in town. “Needs some work, but I could get it real cheap.”
David was explaining how he’d once again patched the tire on his old bike. The thing was more patches than original tire at this point.
Georgia was squinting at the book she was hiding in her lap. Probably she needed new glasses again.
Before dessert was done, Becca was once more flipping through ideas in her mind—there really were endless opportunities to earn money to help her family. It was all good and fine for Daniel to be happy in his poverty. He had no one to worry about except himself. She had a family, and she meant to find a way to help them.
As for Daniel Glick, he’d managed to distract her with his talk of contentment and Gotte’s provision, but if he were as content as he claimed, wouldn’t h
e be more willing to share about his past?
What was he hiding?
What was he running from?
Daniel was a likable guy, and he’d certainly helped her out of a tight spot, but there was still a mystery there. Mysteries bothered Becca. They were like novels with the final chapter missing. Something deep inside her worried a thing until it came to a satisfactory conclusion—good or bad.
She simply couldn’t abide leaving matters unresolved.
She’d figure out the details of Daniel’s past. The question was whether she’d still think he was a gut neighbor, a gut friend, once she did.
* * *
Becca woke the next day with a renewed zeal to learn the details of Daniel’s life. He was their neighbor. Shouldn’t they know what their neighbor was up to? Didn’t the Bible say they were to love their neighbor? You couldn’t love someone that you knew nothing about.
Since it was Saturday, she spent the morning helping with the baking and cooking. It wasn’t until after lunch that she had a spare moment to herself. She walked outside and caught her bruder Eli standing in the backyard, practicing his baseball swing. “Don’t you have chores to do?”
“I finished mine.”
He swung the bat again, watched the imaginary ball fly into imaginary bleachers. Eli was tall and thin and talented with a baseball. It was rare that he wasn’t carrying around a baseball bat or rubbing oil into his baseball glove. He was in his last year of school, and Becca almost envied him that final year of childhood. Soon enough adults would be asking him what he meant to do with his life, and when he was going to join the church, and who he was going to marry.
“Say, I could use your help with something.”
Again he swung the bat, following through and smiling that he’d no doubt hit another home run.
“Eli, are you listening?”
He slowly turned toward her and seemed to come back to Earth. “Ya. Sure. Of course I am.”
“Gut. Here’s my plan.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Becca and Eli had crossed their property, walked through the old barn and popped out the other side.
The Amish Christmas Secret Page 6
