by Amy Lillard
He closed his eyes and said a small prayer for forgiveness for such a mean thought about the man who brought him into this world. Yet these days, the times between their differences was growing shorter and shorter. Chris saw that one day soon there would be a time when they couldn’t get along at all. He was getting out before then.
He’d told Sadie that he’d be back. Aside from his mother and his brother, he would miss Sadie most. She had been his friend for so long he couldn’t imagine life without her, but he knew she wouldn’t go with him. She’d joined the church long ago, and he felt more than guilt at the thought that she had been waiting on him to join the church and ask her to marry him. She deserved better than the likes of him. She deserved a man who wanted the same things that she wanted: a farm, a house, kids, and a green tractor to drive around the fields. She wanted Sunday in church, Sunday night singing. All that and more should be hers.
He had made his plans, and as much as he cared for Sadie, they didn’t include her. He didn’t blame her for breaking up with him, but he couldn’t stop the stab of jealousy when he heard that she had been running around with a Mennonite boy from Taylor Creek. He had no claim to Sadie Kauffman. Not anymore. He couldn’t even say they were friends any longer.
“There he is.” Mamm sat the bowl of applesauce on the table and plunked a spoon down next to it as Chris heard the door open and close, then the swish of fabric as his father removed his coat and the thump of his boots as he came to the head of the table.
His father pulled his chair out and sat down, not saying a word as he bowed his head and expected the others to follow for the silent prayer.
Chris had no words for the prayer. He should be asking for forgiveness for his unkind thoughts, forgiveness for putting Sadie through so much when all she wanted was to get married, peace for his family, then the months to speed by quickly so that he could move on. But none of those things would come to his mind. All he could do was sit, hands clasped in front of him, head bowed, as he waited for his father to end the prayer.
An eternity passed before his father raised his head and reached for the first bowl of food.
Chris passed the biscuits to Johnny, who smiled and thanked him, then started telling the story about one of the horses in the barn. Chris half listened, just enough that he could nod every so often and at least appear like he was following the conversation. But his mind was in other places. Off in Europe, wondering about Sadie, what to make of this Mennonite man who had attached himself quite nicely to her.
Even more guilt swamped Chris. Suddenly he realized that in keeping Sadie as his best friend for all these years, he had shielded her from any other suitor in the district. Maybe even the whole entire settlement. She had never dated anyone, never been out with anyone, and he was quite sure that she’d never kissed anyone. Now she had taken up with some racy Mennonite who drove a truck and wore patterns. Who knew how the man would treat his Sadie.
Chris resisted the urge to push his chair back and excuse himself from the meal even though he had not eaten a thing. He needed to talk to Sadie, and soon, before this Mennonite took more liberties than he was entitled.
Sadie was a good girl, but she didn’t have any experience in the ways of the world, and Chris was terrified that the Mennonite would take advantage of her. The thought sent ice water running through his veins. Tonight, he vowed. He would head over and talk to her tonight. Before this thing with the Mennonite went any further.
* * *
It was after seven and long past the dinner rush, but Sadie heard the bell on the door and looked up to see who was coming in. This time of day it was most likely a regular coming in to pick up a snack or a pie for the next day. The tourists had long since gone home to their families, made themselves dinner, and were settling in for a night of whatever tourists did when they weren’t being tourists.
Instead it was Chris, coming in for . . .
“Hi.” She hadn’t talked to him for a couple of days. She tried to pretend that he had been the one that was busy, but in all actuality it was her. Somehow she had been drawn in by Ezra Hein and all the things he had mentioned the other day. She could hardly think of anything else but kissing him, dating him, and not worrying about what their families thought. Somehow she knew if she saw Chris, she would spill it all, and she wasn’t sure how he would feel about that. So she kept her distance to keep from having to tell Chris anything.
“Can I talk to you for a little bit?” Chris asked. He shifted in place, uncomfortable, as if the situation was delicate as a spiderweb.
Sadie nodded. “Jah. Of course.” She bustled over to where Cora Ann was wiping down the high chairs in preparation for an early closing.
“Cora Ann, I’m going out for a minute to talk to Chris. Do you have everything here okay?”
Cora Ann looked from her to Chris, then back again. “Jah. I’ve got it.” She leaned in closer, her eyes flicking toward Chris before settling back on Sadie. “Unless you don’t want me to have it, and then I don’t.”
Sadie tried not to laugh at her sister’s antics. Instead she shot her sister a quick smile. “I don’t believe that will be necessary. But thanks.”
With a small shake of her head, Sadie left her sister and went to grab her coat and scarf by the door. In no time at all, she and Chris were walking down the street where Main Street narrowed and led to a residential district.
Sadie loved the little town. It was a hub of excitement, the park in the center and shops all around. She loved everything about it. Except for tonight. But it wasn’t the town that was causing her those feelings, but the man at her side.
“What’s the matter, Chris?” He had been acting so strange lately. She remembered his voice the other day on the phone when he canceled bowling. Strange that she hadn’t talked to him since then. Before his announcement they had talked every day. She supposed it was understandable, this change in the dynamics of their relationship. But she missed him. He had been her friend for so long. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Of course I am. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me? Why are you worried about me?”
“I’ve been hearing you’re going around with some Mennonite guy.”
Sadie stopped in her tracks. Chris took two more steps before he realized she wasn’t next to him and backtracked to where she stood. She folded her arms and waited on him. “Some Mennonite guy? That’s what everyone is saying about me?”
Even in the shadows of Main Street, she could see the confusion flickering across Chris’s face. “Jah,” he said. “Is it not true?”
“I’ve been hanging out with Ezra Hein, and he’s Mennonite. But I wouldn’t call him ‘some Mennonite guy.’” She couldn’t quite explain the uncharacteristic anger she felt at Chris’s words. Was it because he had said them? Or because everyone in Wells Landing was talking about her and Ezra behind their backs?
Still, she should’ve known. She just didn’t expect this from Chris.
“That’s what I said, some Mennonite guy.”
“I happen to like Ezra very much.”
“He’s Mennonite.”
“I wish everyone would quit saying that.” Sadie propped her hands on her hips and coldly eyed him. “So what?”
“Really, Sadie?” Chris frowned at her. “What would your mother say if you ended up dating a Mennonite guy?”
“I cannot answer that.” She’d had about enough of this. She had thought Chris had come to talk to her about something important, but all he wanted to do was point fingers and make accusations against people. Accusations that had no meaning other than trying to find fault in another for their religious beliefs. Somehow that didn’t set right.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Chris said. His voice had changed from stern to soft, and Sadie couldn’t tell if he was trying to persuade her or if he was sincere.
“I’m not going to get hurt.” She had already been hurt enough. And at Chris’s hands, no doubt. He hadn’t meant to h
urt her, but he had. He’d broken her heart and destroyed the dreams she held for the two of them. It was hard having dreams that involved another person who didn’t share them. But this time, it was different. Ezra was different. And she knew what she was getting into. She had her eyes open and her heart closed. She was going to get to know Ezra better and then see what would happen from there. Then, maybe, just maybe, if Ezra stuck around, she might give herself the chance to fall in love with him.
* * *
He’d made a mess out of it, Chris thought as he drove home on his tractor. He’d tried to help Sadie and all he succeeded in doing was making her angry at him. He was only looking out for her. Wasn’t that what friends did?
He pulled his tractor to the north side of the barn where they usually left it, cut the engine and the lights, and got down. He might have made a mess of it, but that didn’t mean he was stopping now. Sadie was his friend, and he would help her in any way he could, whether she knew she needed that help or not.
He marched to the house, trying not to let his frustration get the better of him but feeling it seep into his very being at the same time. The last person Sadie needed to be dating was a Mennonite guy. Couldn’t she understand that? There were plenty enough Amish guys around Wells Landing. Why did she have to go all the way to Taylor Creek to find a new boyfriend? He stopped in his tracks.
Was that what the Mennonite was to her? A boyfriend? Had it gotten that serious? He might not ever know, since he’d blown trying to talk to her today. Now all he could do was pray.
He shook his head and continued on to the house. The lights were on in the front room, and smoke puffed from the chimney, its smell permeating the air around him. Between the woodsmoke and the cold, there was no other smell like wintertime.
He stumped up the stairs and into the house, wiping his feet before his mother started hollering for him to do so.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
Chris looked up, for the first time noticing they had company. He had to have walked right past their buggy, but somehow in the darkness, with his frustration over Sadie, he had missed it. The bishop, the deacon, his dad, his mom, even his older brother Joshua sat around. Waiting for him. He didn’t know how he knew they were waiting for him, somehow he just knew. He swept the bottom of his shoes one more time against the entryway rug, keeping an eye on them as he did so. He took off his hat and his coat and hung them on the pegs by the door before walking across toward the fire to warm his hands. He wasn’t sure what this was all about, but he had a feeling that before he walked in they had been talking about him. He kept his back to the room as he warmed his hands. The waves of anticipation rolled off everyone in the room. Why? He had no idea. But he was certain he was about to find out.
Unable to stay facing away from them for much longer, Chris turned toward them, warming his backside. He let his gaze rest on each one of the people seated there and waited for someone to speak. No one did.
“Did someone die?” he asked.
His mother shook her head, even as tears rose into her eyes. Everyone else sat with frowns on their faces as they surveyed him as if he were some poor lost soul brought in from the storm.
“No, Chris,” Mamm said.
Before she even finished, his dat stood. “Now, son,” his father started in that tone that set Chris’s teeth on edge. Why couldn’t they get along? Life would be so much easier for all of them if the two of them could get along. He supposed most would say that his relationship with his father was all part of God’s plan, but that didn’t stop him from praying about it every night. “The bishop here has come by to talk to you about joining the church.”
A stab of guilt pierced his heart. He didn’t want to join the church. Not now. Maybe someday. Maybe when he could figure out why he wanted to wander all over the world and see all the sights, backpack over mountains, ride bicycles in hills and valleys, sail on a boat across the ocean, ride a camel in the desert, and a hundred other things that he’d seen in National Geographic magazine. Maybe after that he could settle down and join the church.
The bishop stood. “That’s right. Your father came to me, and I agree that it’s time you started taking your faith seriously, Chris. It’s time you thought about settling down.”
Settling down?
“You and Sadie Kauffman have been happy for a long time now,” his mother said. “Wouldn’t it be nice to join the church and marry Sadie this fall?”
Whoa. Join the church and get married all in the same year? The same year that he had planned to travel to Europe? He had been saving his money for nigh on five years. He had scrimped and scraped, skipping lunch when he had money to eat in town. He had taken on odd jobs here and there, fixing porch steps and anything else that would make him a couple of bucks. He had squirreled it all away, stuffed in a slit in his mattress upstairs. No one knew it was there. Not even Johnny or Sadie.
“I guess you’ve got your mind made up for me.” Chris did his best to keep his tone level and smooth without a trace of his mounting frustrations. It would do no good to yell and scream and shout to the rooftops that he didn’t want to join the church yet. He didn’t want to marry Sadie yet. Give him a couple years was all he asked. Was that too much to ask? He didn’t know why God had laid it on his heart to travel, to see things that other people hadn’t seen. It would’ve been much easier if he had had dreams and aspirations of being nothing more than a farmer in tiny Wells Landing, Oklahoma. But he didn’t. It was something he had to deal with, a cross he had to bear.
He looked over to Joshua. His brother was studying his fingernails as if somehow the answer to every question in the world was written there.
As the oldest, Joshua had moved away a long time ago. He’d found himself a wife and a house, but instead of farming like their father, he went to work for an Englisch shed company.
He was sure to the outsider that the idea of passing land and vocations from generation to generation sounded quite charming. He’d heard all the words the tourists used to describe the Amish culture: sweet, innocent, wholesome. But that wasn’t what he wanted. It was a dead end and led to nowhere. And nowhere wasn’t where he wanted to go.
“It’s time, don’t you think?” His father raised one eyebrow at him in a look that Chris had seen too many times to count. It was like a punctuation mark. This is the end and this is how it will be. I have spoken and you will obey.
Frustration and anger bubbled in the back of his throat like acid. He wanted to tell them all to leave him alone. They didn’t understand. He didn’t know where these dreams came from, but they were his and he was keeping them. He was nurturing them and soon, so very soon, he was going to live them to the fullest.
He swallowed that back and managed to bite his tongue as he formulated his answer. “I’ve got some time, right?”
The bishop nodded, and the deacon followed suit.
“Until Easter, right?”
“I think you should decide now.” His father’s tone brooked no argument, but his mother stood and wrapped one arm around his, pulling him closer to her so she could whisper in his ear.
No one knew what she said, but Chris made a mental note to thank her later.
“Easter, then,” his father said. “I expect you to be in baptism classes.”
Baptism classes in the spring, no trip in the summer, and married in the fall. Chris nodded. He had no choice but to agree. If it came down to it, he would start baptism classes after Easter if only to keep his family from knowing his plans. He hated to deceive them, but what choice did he have? If he told them now, his father would kick him out and forbid his brothers to talk to him, and Chris would be left floundering until he agreed to his father’s demands.
His maam took one of his hands into both of hers. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and clean up. Then have a good piece of pie before bed.” She smiled, that same smile he’d seen his whole life through. It would be one of the main things he missed in Europe. Perhaps he should buy a camera an
d take a picture of his mother smiling like that so he would have it with him always.
“Okay,” he said. He moved past his family and started toward the stairs. He put his foot on the first step when his father spoke behind him.
“Easter. And that’s it. No more stalling. No more procrastinating.”
Chris didn’t bother to look at his father. He merely nodded and started up the stairs.
Chapter Eleven
“Are you going somewhere?”
Sadie nearly jumped out of her skin and whirled around to face her sister. Melanie stood framed in the doorway of the bedroom that Sadie had once shared with Lorie. The room Melanie had shared with Cora Ann was down the hall, with another one on the other side reserved especially for Daniel.
“Melanie!” Sadie exclaimed, clutching one hand to her chest. “You scared me.”
“Obviously,” Melanie said, taking a couple of steps into the room.
“What are you doing here?” Sadie asked.
“I think I should ask you the same thing.” Melanie settled herself down on one of the twin beds in the room and tucked her feet underneath her. “Well . . . are you going to tell me?”
“I asked you first.” Sadie stalled.
“Fair enough. I came to see what you were up to tonight. You’ve been acting really strange lately, and I’m worried about my sister.”
“Worried about me?” What was it with everybody these days? Why couldn’t a girl sneak around and meet a boy every so often without everyone thinking something was wrong?
“Word around the district is that you’re still seeing that Mennonite boy.”
Sadie spun toward her sister. “What does it matter if I’m still seeing him?”
“Sadie, you’re going to have to stop this. You can’t go around with a Mennonite boy.”
“Why not? Everyone talks like he’s some kind of Englisch ax murderer when he’s just a guy.”
“A guy who happens to be Mennonite.”
“Is that so terrible? That he’s Mennonite?” She had heard terrible stories about women whose husbands beat them and their children, of men who drank, smoked, and did all sorts of other sins that would make any normal person cringe.
