Gathering the Threads

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Hey, Quill. End of April, so it’s update time.

  Detective Torres thinks he’s finished interviewing people in Summer Grove. People wanted to know what the questions were about, so there was a gathering at Daed’s home.

  He answered what he could, doing his best not to assume any missing information or exaggerate the facts. It’s a contentious mess—anger and disbelief over the truth. Many feel I’ve led Daed astray and that’s why he called the police and why he now believes the bishop is wrong.

  The bishop hasn’t said much since he was questioned, which is refreshing.

  First district meeting, what the detective called a town hall meeting, will be held later today at the schoolhouse, and police will discuss spiritual church matters versus criminal behavior.

  With this much confusion and interest, I expect it to be standing room only. We’ll see.

  Daed gave his blessing to me moving in with your Mamm. I’ve been there for five nights now, and even without much in the way of conversations between your Mamm and me right now, there is something very encouraging about sharing a home with someone who also has respected loved ones on the outside.

  How’s Frieda? She’s not responding to texts.

  Ariana moved to the back steps and sat, waiting for his reply. The April breeze carried the sweet scents of spring coming to life.

  Bubbles showed up on her texting screen, and she waited. He was quick to respond, but if she didn’t text him first, would he text her?

  Hi, Ari. So good to hear from you. I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten to send an update. I didn’t know you’d moved in. Good for both of you!

  The rumble of what’s happening between the police and ministers in Summer Grove has spread far and wide. It’s a sad thing but not a bad thing. Every Amish district needs to know where the boundaries are between personal beliefs and people’s rights. It’s been rough for Frieda. She’s been interviewed twice. Once before her Mamm and siblings were interviewed and once after. Some of her siblings want to reestablish a connection with her. She’s miserably leery.

  Too many still believe what their Daed had told them—that she was faking the symptoms etc.

  Some waver, wanting to believe her, or at least saying they do, but they want more proof. I’ve never been one to call someone stupid. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, but I now fully understand the meme:

  Stupid is knowing the truth, seeing the truth, and still believing the lie.

  This time concerning church matters remains hard for you. I know it does. But it will get better soon. I promise.

  She was ready for things to get better.

  Give Frieda my love. Bye.

  Take care of yourself, Ari.

  Quill waited in his car by the curb as the police officer instructed. He had the engine running, not so much for a fast getaway, but for air conditioning. If this was how hot the end of May was, what would the dog days of summer be like? His phone pinged with Ariana’s ringtone. He picked it up from his console, hoping she had better things happening in her life of late.

  Hi, Quill. End of May. Update time.

  I heard from Frieda two weeks ago. We’re texting regularly, and it does my heart good.

  In an unprecedented move, the bishop, deacon, and preacher have stepped down. Rumors say all three will face legal charges by this time next month.

  In news that’s actually uplifting, I went to Bellflower Creek to stay for a couple of nights with Brandi, Gabe, and Cameron. The puppy is doing well.

  I also had an afternoon with Nicholas while there. It was a good break. A much-needed one. Mom has a way of putting things in perspective and then insisting we do something fun. We went to a hair show, as if those helpful hair techniques are useful for me.

  The next weekend Skylar went. When she returned, she talked to me about it. All first-rate stuff. I have good parents—all four of them.

  Anyway, I’m currently baking croissants and scones, because tonight is the first time a speaker is coming to the café. The professor is an older gentleman, an archaeologist, who’s going to share some of the amazing finds in Jerusalem, and he’ll have artifacts and talk about the culture of the day.

  Nicholas connected me with him and with enough other speakers that I have the next seven months lined up. I think he pulled a lot of favors to make this happen for me. No one besides my Brenneman family may come, but I’m looking forward to learning new things.

  The district meeting with the police went well, I think. Very eye opening and humbling for most. There will be another one tomorrow night. The first one was packed with Amish from Summer Grove and neighboring districts. How are you?

  Quill read the text a second time. Healing might take years, but it sounded as if she was getting her feet under her. For Ariana, that was step one to embracing her new circumstances with a sense of peace. It sounded as if some of the pressure involving the church leaders was beginning to dissipate, and the thought of it brought him relief. He glanced in his rearview mirror at the house the police had entered ten minutes ago.

  That’s some amazing stuff going on, Ari. Why do I feel as if your goal is to torture me? Croissants and scones?

  Her message had a bit of cheer, and he felt a smile run from his head to his feet. She’d survived the worst of her grief from the breakup.

  Yes, for the record, I’m hungry.

  I’m currently doing a bit of work for WEDV, getting a young woman out of a situation. No kids. Simple deal. Police are in her home now, keeping the man under control and preventing him from following her. I’m in my car out of the man’s line of sight, a few doors down, waiting. I’ll drive her six hours south to start life anew, a place without friends or relatives for her, but somewhere he won’t know how to find her. Other than that, work is good. I’m good. Frieda has said on numerous occasions how much she appreciates your texts and that you never pressure her to call or visit.

  I learned that from you. Take care.

  Ariana’s heart pounded wildly. Was this actually happening, or was she dreaming? She had to tell Quill. She hurried to the side of the house and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She was allowed to have her phone, but to stand in her Daed’s yard and text while thirty Amish men were around would be rude. She stumbled before coming to a halt. Her fingers would not move across the screen fast enough.

  Quill, it seems God in heaven has done the unbelievable! End of June update. I know it’s a few days early. Deal with it! The Amish of Summer Grove and beyond have come together to bless my Daed with heads of cattle! Dairy farmers have given up one cow each. I’m in the yard watching them being unloaded. When they learned how unfair the bishop’s decree was toward my Daed and that it put him in financial straits all these years, they decided to do this! Thirty head, I think. Some cows look to be excellent milk cows. Some will just be okay until Daed works with them for a while. But I’m going to say this gift is worth about $60,000!

  All the Amish people who stood silently by and let the bishop convince them of someone’s great sin against God helped the bishop bully his victims, and the Amish are coming together to bless the victims, not just Daed. They have arranged a frolic to paint your Mamm’s house and anything else she needs. The women float in and out of her home, bringing her small tokens and an abundance of humility and love. They want her to know how sorry they are, and I can’t stop crying.

  It seems all of them are determined never to let something like this happen again and to make it a point to walk in love, not apathy, confusion, or judgment.

  I knew my people had this in them. I knew they did. I’ve never been more pleased to be Amish.

  Hi, Ari. This is an update to beat all updates! It’s amazing news, and I’m thanking God with you. Mamm called me a few hours ago and said the new bishop came to see her, and he’s removed all restraints on us visiting her.

  I didn’t know that, Quill. I’d hoped it would happen. I’m in awe at what’s taking place. The truth does set us free. Not judg
ment. Not rules.

  With all Schlabachs able to visit their Mamm at will, we’ll need to come up with a plan that works for everyone so this single Amish girl doesn’t get in trouble for fraternizing overnight. How about if you text me when any Schlabach plans to visit, and I’ll go to my Brenneman home, leaving all rooms available for your family?

  Good plan. We’ll probably keep our overnight stays limited to the weekends, but I imagine there will be lots of visits for the next few months. Mamm will want to make up for lost time with the grandkids.

  “Ariana,” Daed called.

  “Coming.” Ariana dashed a final text to Quill.

  Gotta go. Daed is calling.

  He probably needs help milking all those cows! Bye.

  She slid the phone into her pocket and hurried around the side of the house. The phone buzzed, but she’d have to read the text later.

  Sweat dripped down Quill’s face as he entered his third mile of running. Lexi was by his side, panting but keeping pace. His phone chirped Ariana’s ringtone. He smiled and stopped running. He patted Lexi while pulling the phone from his shorts pocket.

  Quill, this is so sad. I knew it was coming, I guess. I just…

  Oh, wait. Hi. Update time. Mid-July. The sad news: charges have been filed against all three ministers. They’ve been taken to jail and will see a judge to set bail sometime this week, maybe tomorrow. Because they helped Frieda’s Daed get away by notifying him when your Daed went to the police, as well as other things they’ve done, they are charged with aiding and abetting and obstruction of justice.

  The detective told them that if Frieda had died, they also would have been charged with involuntary manslaughter. That has shaken the community out of its apathy and into vigilance to be kind and gentle inside of church business, like they are when dealing with Englisch folk. I didn’t understand all the police jargon, and I’m grateful for justice, but I hurt that this is happening to them. I can’t imagine a night in jail for those men. It seems it would be terrifying.

  Quill had less empathy for the men than Ariana did, in part because he was a less empathic person. She could hurt for a grasshopper that died between the window and the screen. Still, he didn’t wish ill on the men, but he was good with justice having its day. If he’d known six years ago that what they were doing was illegal, he still would’ve needed to get Frieda out for her sake, but he wouldn’t have had to hide for years or sneak into his Mamm’s house for visits. Maybe he and Ariana would be dating right now. But he’d been young and inexperienced, and he paid a price for that. Apparently the ministers had a price to pay too.

  Hi, Ari. It is disturbing to watch, I’m sure. No one is rejoicing. But don’t take on emotionally what’s happening to them as if it’s happening to you. The concern and fear and upset in their lives are not yours to carry. Okay?

  Keep telling yourself: This is not my monkey. This is not mine to carry.

  The detective called Frieda several days ago and said that if this goes to trial, she may have to testify. He expects all three men to plead guilty rather than go on trial, because the Word says to agree with an adversary quickly.

  However it goes, they could get anything from twenty years in jail to a long probation.

  Remember: it’s not your emotional baggage to carry.

  I feel better already. Thank you! I need to go. New help coming into the café that I have to start training. Bye.

  Lovina wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead and then pulled more weeds out of the garden.

  “Lovina.” Skylar hurried across the yard. “I got cleared!” Skylar waved a paper in the air.

  “That’s great, honey!” From her crouched position, Lovina held out her hand, and Skylar took it, helping her stand. Lovina’s knees weren’t what they used to be. “So should I just hug you and be very excited, or should you tell me which great thing took place that we are now celebrating?”

  Skylar wagged her finger. “Very funny. Jokes from a woman crouching in the July heat, weeding a garden at noon.” She folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. “Why are you out here at this time of day?” Skylar bent and pulled a wad of weeds out of the garden.

  “My morning got off schedule.”

  “You were baby-sitting grandkids again, weren’t you?”

  “Maybe.” Lovina grinned. “So what’s going on?”

  “I am officially a part of the Big Sister program, and I’ve been cleared to teach music in group foster homes. How cool is that?”

  “I couldn’t be more proud, but I don’t know how you’re going to keep up with all you’re taking on.”

  “Ha. Once you learn to work and live like the Amish, everything else is easy.” Skylar checked her phone, smiled, and tapped her fingers across the screen. Lovina knew that look. Skylar was texting with Jax. She shoved the phone back into her jeans. “Where’s Isaac?”

  “Here.” Isaac walked toward them, carrying two glasses of lemonade. “I was in the kitchen fixing Lovina a drink when I saw you arrive. Decided to be nice and fix two.”

  “Thanks.” Skylar reached for the glass.

  Isaac held one out to Lovina and took a drink of the other.

  “Daed!”

  Isaac laughed and gave her the one he’d been holding out to Lovina. He then gave Lovina the one he’d drunk out of as they moved to the lawn chairs under the shade trees. Skylar was one very busy young woman. She worked at the café part-time, attended school, practiced music a lot, and did some volunteer work with Jax. But the most exciting part to Lovina and Isaac was she and Jax had been going to church together for the last few months.

  While Isaac and Skylar chatted, Lovina breathed in the delicious aroma of freedom in Christ and allowed her mind to reminisce.

  It seemed odd, but as much as Skylar had changed since coming to their home nine months ago, it often felt as if Lovina and Isaac had changed more. Who had been more set in their ways—a twenty-year-old girl on drugs or a fifty-something couple who’d sat under the same cloistered teachings their whole lives?

  She didn’t know. Only God knew, and He’d known how to bring about changes for everyone.

  When had it become natural to give up thinking and just accept that the bishop was in power because God had put him there? But as Ariana had pointed out a few months back, just because God put someone in authority, it didn’t mean those under him had to mindlessly yield. She’d explained many things about the Amish that Lovina and Isaac had never considered. The Amish hadn’t yielded to the government powers in Europe, which is how they ended up in America. Once here, they hadn’t yielded to the US government on numerous topics. They’d stood their ground to be exempted from personal Social Security taxes, and they went to court and some went to jail to fight for the right for education to go only through the eighth grade. So the whole concept of accepting all authority as God’s will had to be balanced through deep thinking and a willingness to admit a person is not God and can be wrong. Their forefathers in Europe certainly fought back against the church at that time, confident that the church leaders, who weren’t Amish, were not following God’s Word.

  How had the Amish of Summer Grove become so comfortable giving up all power and opinion that they’d been cavalier and apathetic to what was going on around them?

  However it had happened, the detective broke the hold of any person setting himself up as judge and jury. Ariana added to the detective’s revelations by bringing in teachers to the café. The once-a-month Friday night events were packed with Englisch and Amish alike.

  Because of those evenings and free refreshments, Ariana’s café was bursting at the seams, and in a few months she would close for a few weeks and expand the café. When she wasn’t working, she spent long days at the public library and had established good communication with Nicholas, who actually attended church. Nicholas said he went so he could cross-reference the different academic approaches to numerous scriptures.

  Maybe. But even if that was true, Lovina
was praying he would see the truth while searching for facts, just as she prayed that she would see facts while accepting God’s truth.

  Skylar laughed, and Lovina focused on her daughter. Skylar took another sip of her drink. “I’m planning a big birthday party at the café for the trips’ twenty-first birthday. That’s four Saturdays from today. I’m inviting family on both sides, Amish and Englisch. You’ll come, right?”

  “Trips?” Isaac asked.

  Lovina leaned forward. “Forgive him. He’s getting old.”

  Skylar chuckled. “We explained this to you. It stands for triplets, because Abram, Ariana, and I have decided that’s what we are—triplets from different mothers.”

  “No wonder I forgot. That’s confusing. And impossible.”

  “Yeah, well, nonetheless, the trips, which, by the way, are a trip, are having a blow-out birthday on Saturday, four weeks from today, starting at five. We’ll provide the food.”

  “You’re cooking for everyone?”

  “Who do you think I am? No, of course not. We’re ordering pizza.”

  “You do your best to confuse me at times, don’t you?” Isaac asked.

  “Sometimes. It’s fun. You should try it.” She jiggled the glass, making the ice rattle. “I just have this pent-up energy all the time lately. I’m like Scrooge at the end of the movie. Giddy. The more I give and do for others, the happier I feel. And foster children are amazing.” She held out the drink to Isaac, offering him some of her lemonade.