The Road Home

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The Road Home Page 12

by Patrick E. Craig


  “In your house?” Jenny found herself choking on the words. “I live here too, Papa. Or am I not part of this family? Am I just some stranger you’ve taken in to ease your conscience?”

  Her words struck a place in Reuben’s heart that hadn’t been touched in many years. “Sie haben die kühnheit to say such a thing to me?” he hissed. “I have loved you and cared for you as my own daughter.”

  “Have you, Papa?” Jenny choked out. “If you had, you would know that this ache in my heart, this need to know, won’t hurt me, it will only help me. I’m not Jenna, Papa! I’m Jenny. But your hard heart will kill me just as surely—”

  “Gott im Himmel!” roared Reuben, slamming his fist on the table. “How dare you say such a thing!”

  Jerusha sat absolutely still, all the blood drained from her face.

  Jenny went on, the words pouring out. “There’s something else I need to say to you, Papa. I’m going to go on with my search with or without your help. This need to know who my birth mother and father are will always be between us until I find out and am whole again. If you really understood me you would know that finding out about my past is the key to my future. Unless I unlock it I’ll never know who I am.”

  Reuben rose from his chair. “You will not do this,” he shouted. “I forbid it!”

  “You can’t stop me!” Jenny shouted back.

  Reuben took control of himself with great effort. His next words were like ice. “I can and I will.”

  Jerusha rose halfway from her chair and leaned forward with her hands on the table, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

  “Jenny, Reuben, please don’t speak this way to each other!” she cried with tears streaming down her face. “Please, we are a family! We love each other.”

  “If Papa really loved me, he would hear my heart,” Jenny sobbed. “And there’s something else.” She paused, knowing that the next step would carry her past the limit of her father’s endurance and out into an unknown land where all safety and security would be stripped away, but she pressed ahead.

  “I have met a boy…a man,” she said simply. “And I am in love with him.”

  “What boy?” Jerusha asked. “What family is he from? We have never seen you with a boy at the gatherings.”

  Jenny took a deep breath. “He is not Amish.”

  Reuben sat down as though he had been shot. “An Englischer! Jenny Springer, have you gone verrückt?”

  “No, Papa, I’m not crazy,” Jenny choked out as she put her head down in her arms and began to weep.

  Reuben turned to Jerusha. “You see, wife?” he said, his words cutting. “You see what happens when we give her freedom? We let her take that job at the library because we thought it would benefit our community, and what does she do? She goes out into the world, associates with the Englisch, fills her head with wild ideas, and then gives herself to an Englischer. I warned you what would happen if we let her work at that library. And now the day has come when this mistake has born its fruit. This will not be…it cannot be. It must be stopped and stopped now.”

  Reuben rose from his chair.

  “Where are you going, husband?” Jerusha asked.

  “To fetch the bishop and the elders,” Reuben said coldly. “There is only one way to deal with this.”

  “Reuben, no—please don’t do this,” Jerusha cried. “There are other ways. Jenny will come to her senses. We must give it time—”

  “No, Jerusha, time has run out.”

  Reuben took his coat and hat from the peg by the door, put them on, and went out into the night.

  For Jenny, the hours that followed were a dim nightmare. Her father returned shortly with the bisschop and three völliger dieners of the church. She sat silently while her father repeated the story to the men. They listened intently, and then the bisschop spoke.

  “Jenny, you have sinned against your father and against the ordnung of our church. You must repent of these things and do as your father tells you. You must also swear that you will never see this Englischer again.”

  Jenny looked up. Her mother sat with red eyes and a tearstained face, looking shocked and bewildered. Her father stared at her as though he didn’t know who she was. A great weariness filled her soul and her heart broke. But still the voice spoke to her heart. This is the road home.

  She looked at the stern faces of the men in front of her. She knew what her words would bring, and yet deep in her heart, she sensed somehow that the Lord was leading her, as dark as the way seemed. She heard words coming out of her mouth as though she were listening to someone else speaking.

  “I will not stop looking for my birth mother, and I will not give up Jonathan.” There! She had said his name.

  “Oh, Jenny,” Jerusha said, and she put her face in her hands and wept silently.

  Her father’s face fell, and his shoulders slumped.

  The bisschop spoke. “Then we have no choice. I pronounce the bann on you, the meidung. From this time until you recant, you are to be shunned. You will have no relationship with the members of our community. You will not attend church services. You will eat at a separate table from your parents. You will not speak to them. They may speak to you only to instruct you as to your responsibilities at home. You will discontinue your work at the library. This bann will last for six weeks. If you repent, you will be received back with open arms. If you do not and your rebellion continues, it can only lead to permanent meidung and full excommunication from your church and your family.

  “You are a baptized member of the Amish church of this section. You have a great responsibility to the community and to your family to stay separate from the world and keep yourself pure. If you choose to follow other paths, you will only divide yourself from the ones who are your family, your friends, and your hope of salvation. We love you and hope you will repent, but that is up to you.”

  The men rose and filed silently out of the house.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Shunned

  JENNY LAY FACEDOWN IN HER BED. She felt like fine china after a monstrous earthquake. She clenched her fists and did her best to choke back her sobs. She was determined not to let her papa know how much he had hurt her.

  This room—her room—had been her refuge all her life, the only place on earth where she felt totally safe. Every night when she was growing up she knew that her big, strong papa was right in the next room sleeping. That knowledge had kept her secure through all her years. Now her room felt like a prison, and the man in the next room was no longer the father she knew but a strange, stern, warden who was unwilling to release the keys that would unlock her future. How had this happened to her? She was not a sinner to be shunned! She was Jenny Springer, who loved her mama and papa and had always been a good Amish girl.

  She got up and paced the room. There, beneath the window, was the oak chest her papa had made. Her bed, too, had been made by his hands and rubbed with mineral oil, and its smell had become woven into the fabric of her childhood. She lay again on the bed, her thoughts stirring her emotions like milk in the churn. This quilt beneath her had been handcrafted by her mother. Now it was damp with tears.

  She rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling. Then she got up again and went to look in the mirror on her dresser. Her face was red and her eyes puffy. A fist of fear clutched her insides. She was tempted to cry out, to call her mama, to confess, repent—anything to free herself from this torment. And yet somewhere inside her was the still, small voice beckoning her on. This is the road home! The answer lies somewhere out there, and only you can find it.

  A great resolve rose in her heart. She would find her birth mother. Jonathan would help her. She lay back down on the bed, pulled the quilt around her, and closed her eyes. A great weariness came upon her. Her eyes jerked open. She stared at the ceiling. Her eyes blinked closed, once, twice…

  Tomorrow I will go. Tomorrow I will go. Tomorrow…

  And then she slept.

  Reuben and Jerusha sat in front of the
fireplace. A cheerless flame flickered on the hearth. The lamps didn’t seem to keep the darkness away. Reuben looked at his wife with troubled eyes. Finally he spoke. “I sat here once, years ago, and had the same schwierigkeiten in my heart,” he said. “It was when I came home during the storm and you were gone. I was sure you’d left Apple Creek forever, and my heart was broken. The life was gone from this house. Then when Bobby came and told me you were lost in the storm and probably dead, I felt fear. Not the kind of fear I had in the Pacific, but the kind of fear that comes from knowing your life is over, yet you will go on living. I lost Jenna and then I lost you. The only hope I had was to go with Bobby to find you, to do something, to try and fix it. But this! This is something I don’t know how to fix.”

  “Perhaps, then, it’s not for you to fix, husband,” Jerusha said. “Perhaps only Jenny can fix it. Perhaps she must find the answer.”

  “How is it that someone who isn’t my blood can be so much a part of me?” Reuben asked with an anguished look. “Jenny has been my daughter since the moment she told us her name and I knew God had given her to us to comfort us and to be ours. And yet now I feel like I’ve never known her.”

  Reuben put his face in his hands. “Is Jenny right?” he asked, his voice muffled. “Did I kill Jenna?”

  Jerusha looked at Reuben and then came to his chair and knelt before her husband, laying her head in his lap. She felt his hand reach out and softly stroke her hair.

  “We all make mistakes,” she said. “Some are inconsequential, and we escape with nothing more than a scare and a reprimand. Others can follow us throughout our lives. I know you’ve carried the burden of Jenna’s death. I see it in your eyes when you look at Jenny. I see the love you have for her, and I know you have a deep fear that you will lose her too.

  “But you must remember that our times are in God’s hands, not ours. Jenna was with us for four years, and then God took her home. I know someday we will see her again. In the meantime, He has given us Jenny, who needs us to guide her far more than Jenna ever would have. It’s time for you to surrender to God’s grace in this matter and forgive yourself, for I have forgiven you, and I know that the Lord has too.”

  Jerusha felt her husband’s hand shaking. She looked up at his face. Tears were running down his cheeks, and his shoulders were heaving with silent sobs.

  “Reuben,” she said softly. “You’re a good man, kind and gentle, and I know how much you love Jenny. Perhaps there’s another way to reach her. We must pray for guidance.”

  Reuben reached down and pulled Jerusha up onto his lap. Her arms slipped under his as he held her, and they sat that way until the fire flickered out.

  The first flush of dawn was creeping over the eastern hills when Jenny awoke. For a moment she lay still, wrapped in her mother’s quilt, peaceful and warm. Then the events of the night before flooded back into her mind, and she felt as if a giant hand reached into her chest and squeezed her heart with an unmerciful grip. She was to be shunned! How could this be?

  Jenny sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was still dressed. She clutched the quilt around her shoulders for a few moments and then quietly stood up, went to her closet, and found her knapsack. Then she went to her drawer, opened it quietly, and took out some underwear and socks and stuffed them in the bag. She knew she would need to buy different clothing for her journey in order to blend in with everyone else.

  In the top drawer was a small green wooden box. She opened it and lifted out the top section. In the bottom of the box lay a bundle of bills. It was all the money she had earned and saved from working in the fields and babysitting. She counted just a little more than two hundred dollars. That won’t get me very far, but I have to start somewhere, she thought. I’ll see Jonathan. He said he would help me.

  Jenny changed into a fresh dress and pulled on her boots and then her coat. She took a last look around at the four walls that had bound the small world of her childhood. A sudden fear gripped her. What am I doing?

  She looked at her kappe sitting on the dresser. She started to pick it up and then paused. A pair of scissors was lying there, and she picked them up instead. She took a deep breath, pulled back her shoulders and grabbed her long hair. She breathed a prayer, closed her eyes, and quickly began to chop away the hair. After a few minutes she had shaped what remained of her hair into a short, curly, boyish cut. She took one look at herself in the mirror and then picked up the knapsack. She went to the window and quietly lifted the sash until there was room to crawl out. Quickly she set the knapsack out on the porch and crept through the window. She stood on the porch for a moment and looked at the house. Everything she loved and knew lived here in this house—her mama and papa, her memories, her faith.

  Will I ever come back here? she wondered.

  Then she turned, stepped off the porch, and quietly walked away.

  Reuben rose later than usual. He had lain awake long into the night, praying quietly. He had continued praying until at last he felt he had an answer. Now he arose and walked quietly to the door of Jenny’s room. He knew what he needed to do to help his daughter. Softly he knocked on the door.

  There was no answer.

  “Jenny, can I come in?” There was still no answer. He gently opened the door and looked quickly around the empty room. On the dresser sat Jenny’s green box with the lid off and the box empty. The window was open, and the morning breeze ruffled the curtains where Jenny had made her escape.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Bargain

  JOHNNY SAT IN HIS ROOM at the Bide-a-Wee Motel in Apple Creek. He had packed his bag and set it on the bed. His repaired Volkswagen van was parked outside. When he picked up the van from Dutch, he had noticed that it ran a lot better when he started it up. He asked Dutch about it.

  “Well, I know you didn’t ask, but I put a tune-up on her,” Dutch said. “You seem like a nice young fella, and I hate to send you on your way with the possibility of breaking down somewhere between here and Nashville. Oh and don’t worry, the fifty bucks covered it.”

  “How did you know about me going to Nashville?” Johnny asked.

  “Apple Creek is a small town, son.” Dutch smiled, showing a gap where a tooth was missing. “Word gets around, especially if you tell your story to Bull Halkovich. He checked in to see if I was facilitating your ‘soon departure.’ ”

  After thanking Dutch, Johnny went back to the motel, fully intending to leave after he packed his things. But he couldn’t get Jenny off his mind. He wanted to ask Dutch where Jenny lived, but he remembered that Jenny wasn’t even supposed to talk to the “English,” as she called them. He didn’t want to get her in trouble, so he sat in the motel room, strumming his old Gibson guitar and thinking. He tried to write a song, but he could only come up with a verse that was more of a chorus.

  Tonight I sing this song of love

  You’re the one I’m dreamin’ of

  Tonight, hold me tenderly

  Come so easily

  Into my heart, tonight

  Nothing more came to him, so he played listlessly for a while and then set the guitar down. He thought about driving to Wooster to see if she was at the library, but then he remembered she worked only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and today was Friday.

  Johnny thought about what had happened with Jenny. He remembered her body pressed against his and the way he felt when she whispered his name. He hadn’t kissed her, but a whole book could have been written about what passed between them. Something about the way she called him Jonathan made him feel, for the first time in his life, that he belonged somewhere.

  Now his thoughts tumbled over themselves as he reflected on the absurdity of the situation. He was hiding out from a gang of drug dealers. He had discovered that his ancestor was an Amish man who quit the church after his family was massacred, and who might have married an Indian girl. He had fallen in love with an Amish girl who was forbidden to see him.

  I’m sitting in a motel in a little villag
e called Apple Creek, for goodness sake, and I can’t call her or go to her house. Every car that passes makes me jump. I don’t even know who I am anymore. How in the world did all this happen to me? Just last week I was tripping out on the streets of San Francisco, and my only problem was paying the rent. How did my whole life change in a week?

  The incongruity and the hopelessness of his circumstances crowded in on him, forcing him to decide. He couldn’t stay in Apple Creek. He had to go get the money, find a place to hide out, start a new life, and forget this had ever happened.

  He got up, put his guitar back in its case, and gathered up his belongings. He looked around the room to see if he had left anything, picked up the room key, and started to leave. Just as he reached for the doorknob there was a soft knock on the door. He jerked his hand back and quietly put his things down and went to the window. He pulled back the curtain a little bit and took a quick look out behind the shade. Someone was standing at the door, but he couldn’t see who it was. From the side it looked like a girl wearing jeans and a sweatshirt under a light jacket, but he couldn’t see her face. She had short, curly, red-gold hair. He opened the door a crack.

  “Yes?”

  “Jonathan, it’s me.”

  “Jenny?”

  He opened the door. It was Jenny, but she looked completely different. Instead of being tucked up under a kappe, her hair was short, the curls framing her face. She had on new jeans and wore a plain blue sweatshirt under a denim jacket. On her feet were a new pair of low-cut white tennis shoes. She looked at him apprehensively.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  “Of course…” He reached out and took her hand, pulled her inside, and closed the door.

 

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