by Sarah Price
Priscilla frowned, remembering the promise that she had made to her friend at the church service. Sylvia didn’t want people to know, and certainly not the bishop. She had been most adamant about that. Yet, clearly harboring the secret about receiving such wicked letters was causing Sylvia undue stress and, as a result, was making her physically ill.
“I’ve never heard of such a situation,”Priscilla said softly.“I don’t even know what to tell her to do.”
“Never saw this coming,”Polly added.“First you, then us, and now Sylvia!”
“She’s going after Sylvia in a much worse way,”Sarah said but, when she caught sight of Priscilla’s raised eyebrow, added,“Well, almost.”
“Mayhaps more personal,”Priscilla said softly.“But no point in comparing. I just want it to end.”
The room was dark and Sylvia looked small and meek as she lay under her bed covers. Priscilla sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand, hating how hot it felt. Fever? From high blood pressure?
“It’s a virus,”she whispered to Priscilla, reaching out to clutch her friend’s hand.“The stress weakened my immune system and now I’ve caught a virus.”
“Oh Sylvia,”Priscilla said.“I’ve been praying for you since I heard the news. I pray that God gives you the strength to recover quickly and make things right again.”
Sylvia nodded.“It needs to stop.”Her voice was hoarse and full of sorrow. Her eyes were deep set and she had deep circles underneath them.
Priscilla didn’t know what to tell her. She simply had no advice. After all, bullying among the Amish was something that she had never heard of before that first incident with Susie over her own tomatoes a few seasons back. Now, with Susie living away from her family and working among the Englische, there truly wasn’t much that anyone could do. Not without involving Englische law and that was something that the Amish simply would not do.
“Just don’t open the letters,”Priscilla offered. She knew that did not seem like sage advice but it was all that she could offer Sylvia.“Forget about them and burn them. Tell your aendi about them so that she can destroy them even before you see them.”
“The last one,”Sylvia said, trying to sit up in the bed and ignoring Priscilla’s advice.“She told me I’m not a good Christian. Told me that I should end my life, let God take me right now while there was still a chance of going to Heaven.”
It took a moment for the words to register in Priscilla’s mind. Not a good Christian? End her life? Did Susie truly want Sylvia to kill herself? The thought was so morbid and so disgusting to Priscilla that, for a moment, she thought that Sylvia was not thinking clearly. Perhaps, she ventured to consider, she is making this up…imagining it!
In seeing the hesitation in her friend’s eyes, Sylvia sighed and reached for something in the drawer of her nightstand. It was a folded piece of paper tucked in an envelope and addressed to Sylvia. Reluctantly, Sylvia handed it to Priscilla.
After taking the note, Priscilla unfolded it. With one last glance at Sylvia’s pale face and drawn expression, she turned her attention to the note. It was written at first with flowery handwriting that, after the few first words, grew sloppier and more horrid. Quickly, Priscilla’s eyes scanned the words and saw the truth: Whoever was writing these letters was bullying Sylvia, attacking an innocent woman for no apparent reason.
Sylvia,
You are a worthless creature.
Your illness is from the devil.
The devil is calling you home.
You should end it all now for even God doesn’t love you.
An Amish Friend
Clutching the paper in her hand, Priscilla tried to digest what she was reading. Worthless! End it all now! Even God didn’t love you! She had never heard such vile words, so malicious and so full of intent to harm. Truly, no godly person could write such horrid words, full of venom and hatred.
And to have received this? Priscilla could barely imagine how Sylvia felt. She strived so hard to be a God-loving woman. They all did. They lived their lives with one purpose in mind: to honor God. To be told that even God didn’t love her? Priscilla shuddered at the thought. Truly, such harsh words must have broken Sylvia’s heart and damaged her soul.
With a deep breath, Priscilla shook her head and handed the note back to her friend. She met Sylvia’s eyes and pleaded with her.“I…I think you really need to speak to the police,”Priscilla dared to whisper.“This is dangerous. I think she really means you harm.”
Sylvia took the paper back and quickly folded it again.“Nee!”She slipped the piece of paper back into the nightstand.“We don’t involve the legal authorities, Priscilla. You know that.”
“I dare say that this is a bit different,”Priscilla countered.“She’s trying to entice you to take your own life! You need to speak to someone for advice, Sylvia. If this is, indeed, Susie Byler, she is very, very sick and needs help.”Help, Priscilla pondered. Could anything or anyone help an individual with such an unchristian mind?“Preferably before she hurts you.”
Sylvia pressed her lips together, a stern expression on her face. Clearly, she was intent on not sharing this news with anyone besides Priscilla.“You say nothing to anyone, Priscilla,”she warned, wagging her finger at her friend.“No talking to the bishop or discussing this with anyone. I’m going to handle this myself when I’m better.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,”Priscilla replied, a drawn out tone to her voice.“She’s dangerous.”
Reaching out for Priscilla’s hand, Sylvia stared at her friend. Her eyes pleaded for understanding and she clutched her hand, holding it until Priscilla looked at her.“Just promise me,”she said.“Please?”
Reluctantly, Priscilla nodded her head in agreement. While she didn’t think it was the right thing to do, she knew that this was Sylvia’s fight at this point. Since Susie was not targeting her, Priscilla knew that it was not her place to interfere. If her friend didn’t ask for her help, Priscilla knew better than to force it on her.
It was during the buggy ride back to their farm when Priscilla was able to reflect on her conversation with Sylvia. She waited a few minutes before sharing the details with Stephen who sat beside her, his hands tightly clutching the reins and the muscles in his jaw tensing with each word that passed through his wife’s lips. Clearly, he was angry.
“Stephen?”She reached out and touched his arm. He hadn’t responded to anything that she had said and that worried her.
He shook his head and glanced at his wife.“I would not believe it coming from anybody else,”he finally said.“But I know you speak the truth. I find it most incredible and not in a good way.”
“Ja,”Priscilla agreed.“I just wish she wouldn’t open those letters. Throw them out. Don’t give Susie that power.”
“If it is, indeed, Susie…”
Priscilla frowned. Could it be possible that it were someone else? It didn’t seem likely. Not after everything that Susie had done to Priscilla and even Stephen. Then, to have targeted Polly and Sarah? But it dawned on Priscilla that none of them had reacted, not the way that Sylvia did. Indeed, by reacting in such a way, so visibly shaken and now physically ill, Sylvia was feeding the flame that kept Susie going with her bullying.
“I don’t think that’s likely,”Priscilla responded.“Who else could do such evil things?”
Stephen sighed.“I reckon you might be right,”he admitted.
Still, Priscilla admired his ability to actually give Susie the benefit of the doubt. It was admirable that his character did not jump to conclusions without analyzing all of the different angles to the situation. Just one more reason why she was so pleased with her husband and hoped that she could rise to the same level over time. For now, however, she would focus on praying for Sylvia’s recovery from the stress that caused her physical harm and Susie’s desperate need for help in order to repair her torn soul.
Chapter Five
Stephen waited by the buggy as Priscilla hurried out of the hous
e. She carried a basket over her arm, which was partially hidden by the edge of her black wool shawl. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon, the air cooler than usual for April. They were going visiting with the Fischers and would have an early supper before they had to return to their own farm for the evening milking.
He smiled as he held out his hand to assist her with stepping onto the black oval metal step in order to climb inside of the buggy.
“Danke,”she said as she settled into the buggy. Putting the basket on the floor by her feet, she moved over to make room for her husband.
The ride to the Fischer farm took less than fifteen minutes. Priscilla listened to the gentle rhythm of the horse’s hooves and felt the light rolling of the buggy at its wheels hummed against the road. She was thankful that Stephen had left the front windows latched shut so that the hair from the horse’s tail didn’t fly into the front. It always tickled her throat and seemed that she couldn’t get these hairs out of her nose. Yet, in the hot summer months, they had no choice but to open those windows. The buggies needed the air circulation.
When they pulled into Steve Fischer’s farm, Priscilla was pleased to see another familiar buggy at the hitching rail: Gid’s. If Gid were there, certainly Sarah would be, too.
The farm was smaller than Stephen’s and it was clear that it needed a lot of work. The house was large but Stephen had warned her that Steve and Mimi lived in the back grossdaadihaus as there were tenants living in the main part of the house. Steve Fischer had not wanted to force them to leave when he was first married the previous autumn so he had moved his new bride into the smaller section of the house. Stephen had hinted that there had been some issues between Steve and Mimi over this, so it would be best to avoid the subject.
Despite the overcast skies and an occasional quick drizzle, the group was able to enjoy their leisure time outside at the picnic table. While the men wandered over to the barn to inspect the new milking equipment Steve had just installed, the women set about heating up the food and then brought it outside. The table was set with a simple pale blue tablecloth and a mix-match of place settings.
When the men returned to the table, everything looked like a perfect spring day. There was even a break in the clouds and a few rays of sun were finally peeking through. Priscilla was surprised that it might actually turn into a beautiful afternoon, one that was spent with friends instead of family.
And that was when the conversation had changed.
“Have you heard the latest about that Susie Byler, then?”
Priscilla caught her breath. She hadn’t expected anything to be said about Susie on this day. She had no reason to, since the Fischerslived in a neighboring church district. With grave misgivings about where the conversation was headed, she glanced at Stephen who merely lifted an eyebrow in response to his friend’s question
“I heard that she’s working in that gift store next to Zimmerman’s Market in town,”Mimi offered.“Can you imagine?”She shook her head, clearly disapproving of the situation.“What on earth was she thinking?”
Mimi’s husband, Steve, reached for another piece of fried chicken and glanced at his wife.“I reckon she’s thinking she needs to take care of herself now that she’s been denied baptism. Might not be such a bad thing, working in a gift store. Will keep her busy, that’s for sure.”
“And out of trouble, I hope,”Sarah added.“She’s been relentless with Sylvia these past few weeks.”
Sarah’s brother, Gid, straightened his back and clenched his jaw. A dark shadow seemed to cover his face.“She’s still at that? Bothering you girls?”
Ignoring Gid’s question, Sarah hesitated before turning toward Mimi.“Where did you hear that, Mimi? About her working at that store?”
Under the table, Stephen reached for Priscilla’s hand. He squeezed it gently, encouraging her to remain silent. Priscilla was all too happy to oblige. This conversation was bordering on gossip and that did not sit well with her.
“Why, that Naomi Miller! She stopped by my daed’s store the other day when I was visiting. She was all too happy to share her updates,”Mimi added lightly.
Steve groaned and shook his head.“Mimi,”he said.“Enough about that Byler girl.”
Sarah fluttered her hand at Steve dismissively as she leaned forward toward Mimi and Priscilla.“I don’t see a‘happy ever after’in that girl’s future,”she whispered.
“Naomi was right quick to tell me that Susie is living in an Englische trailer. She moved out from her parents’farm, you know, and rented it. Her mamm isn’t doing too well,”Mimi added.“Still drinking, despite the bishop putting the ban on her. Seems her parents blamed her for all their troubles and Susie just got up and left.”
Sarah scoffed.“That Naomi Miller! What a two-faced gal that one is! She was the first one to jump on the bullying bandwagon when it started; even said some right horrid things about our Priscilla here. Then, when things went rough, claimed that she had never done a thing. She’s one to keep the conversation going! Not one ounce better than that crazy woman.”
Covering her ears, Priscilla started to stand up. The abruptness of her action caused everyone to turn to look at her.“I can’t hear one more word about this woman,”she said sharply.“Right or wrong, it’s just gossip and that does no one any good!”
Frustrated, she reached for Stephen’s plate, getting ready to clear the picnic table. She needed to busy herself, to distance herself from the talk. The mention of Naomi Miller was just too much. How could someone who professed to be such a staunch supporter of Susie Byler during the days of bullying suddenly turn around and start spreading gossip about her own friend? It was most unchristian and Priscilla wanted nothing to do with it.
Gathering up the other empty plates, she tried to calm herself down and forced an embarrassed smile on her lips.“It’s turned into such a nice day and we don’t often have free time to visit. I think we should just focus on something else, something more pleasant.”
Sarah frowned.“It’s not gossip if it’s true,”she said sharply.“And after what she has done to Sylvia, why…”She paused, ignoring the sharp look from her brother.“It’s just horrid, those letters!”
Steve Fischer raised both of his hands in the air.“I agree with Priscilla. Enough of this talk. I dare say the bishop wouldn’t care for it. I reckon it goes against one of the ten commandants, even if it is about that Byler girl!”
“Love thy neighbor,”Stephen chimed in.
“Well,”Sarah said.“I can applaud the request to change subjects but I doubt I’ll be sending much love in that direction!”
Despite the sharpness of her tone, the others laughed…everyone except Priscilla and Stephen. They shared a glance; an unspoken look of knowing that could only be shared among married couples. Priscilla dipped her head and set back to the task at hand: clearing the table and washing the dishes. Busy hands, she thought, are better than busy mouths.
For the rest of the afternoon, the three women played Scrabble while the men drank coffee and talked. The Fischers lived in the smaller end of the farm house, the grossdaadihauswhere the grandparents usually lived. Although Steve owned the farm, he had tenants that had lived there for years. When he had gotten married the previous fall, he hadn’t felt it was proper to ask them to leave until they were properly situated and prepared to do so. Instead, he had fixed up the grossdaadihaus for his wife.
It was small but pleasant with new flooring and cabinets. Mimi certainly kept a tidy home, that was one thing that Priscilla noticed right away. And she certainly seemed happy enough, with her eyes sparkling and offering a quick laugh when the conversation warranted it. Priscilla had always liked Mimi, although she didn’t always get much opportunity to visit with her.
It was on the ride home, the sun starting to dip in the sky, that she finally had a chance to talk with Stephen about the conversation. She had tried her best to have a good time but the way that the discussion had turned toward Susie had put a damper on her spirits. Gossip was
not godly and she felt sinful for having even listened to it.
“Why do you think that so many people like to talk about that woman?”she asked, her hands folded on her lap as she stared straight ahead.
Stephen shrugged.“I suppose her behavior is rather shocking. No one knows what she will do next and there might be some curiosity about it, I reckon.”
“I would almost feel sorry for her,”Priscilla continued.“Except for how horrid those letters to Sylvia were and how she tried to claim I wrote them.”
“And the false accusations and that letter to The Budget and that fake restraining order,”he added, his tone terse and strained. She had never seen him look so serious and stern.“There should be no feeling sorry for her, my fraa. She has reaped what she has sown.”
But Priscilla wasn’t so certain.
Forgiveness, Priscilla told herself. That is what God would want: forgiveness for a woman who had clearly lost her way from the path of goodness and delighted in projecting her own imperfections and weaknesses onto others. By calling Sylvia a fake Christian, she was truly talking about herself. By trying to plant the seed of doubt that God loved Sylvia, Susie Byler was clearly indicating that she doubted her own goodness. By enticing Sylvia to kill herself, Susie was crying out that it was she who wanted to end it all.
The problem was, Priscilla realized, that she wasn’t certain she could quite offer that type of forgiveness to a woman who had delighted so heavily in inflicting stress, pain, and suffering on so many people. Could God really expect forgiveness to come easily to such a wretched person?
Chapter Six
Priscilla glanced at the sky, apprehensive of the dark clouds rolling in as she quickly plucked the clothes pins from the line, releasing the dresses to fold and set atop the basket. In the morning, it had been sunny and bright outside, not a cloud in the sky. Nothing indicated that storms were going to roll in. Yet, there they were: black clouds forming on the horizon and slowly crawling higher in the sky, almost ready to block out the sun. Rain, indeed, was on its way.
