by Naomi King
Zanna had never felt so humiliated or so helpless, with no say in the way she would spend the rest of her life. After the meeting she hurried over to Abby’s house, and then—late as it was—she returned to Sam’s before he and Barbara went to bed. “Here!” she said, tossing the two twenties on the kitchen table. “I was wrong to take this money from the store’s cash box, and wrong to run off, and—well, it seems that everything I do or say is just wrong, wrong, wrong!”
Sam lowered his face to the same level as Zanna’s. “Don’t be getting me started up again.”
“I gave back what I took and I’m sorry, all right?” As she turned toward the door, Zanna fully expected a big hand to pull her back into the kitchen for another talking-to. But only the night wind whipped her, coming around from behind the sheep barn with a whistle that hinted at winter and smelled like rain.
She went into Abby’s house again, to pull another coat from the closet. Her older sister had put on her nightgown and was letting down her rich brown hair to brush it.
Startled, Abby looked at her. “Zanna, don’t tell me you’re running off again, after you promised to—”
“Here’s Mervin Mast’s barn coat, all washed and clean,” Zanna said, hanging it on the doorknob. “Jah, it would be the better thing for me to return it to him myself, but since I’ll most likely be put under the ban tomorrow, he couldn’t accept it from me. Will you see that it gets to church, so he can have it?”
Abby gripped her hairbrush. “Jah, I can do that.”
“Never let it be said that I added stealing to my long list of sins.” Zanna exhaled loudly, not that it made her pulse slow down. “Don’t wait up. I’ve got a lot of walking to do. A lot of thinking.”
“Praying helps,” Abby reminded her in a choked voice. “That’s what I’ll be doing for you, Zanna.”
“That’s all well and gut,” Zanna muttered as she opened the front door again, “but I’m thinking God’s not in much of a mood to listen to me right now.”
Why did she feel so scattered? What was this tingling, tight energy that forced her to keep moving? As Zanna strode down Lambright Lane, she had no idea where she was heading. How could anyone be expected to go through all that she’d endured today?
No rest for the wicked, her thoughts taunted.
But she didn’t feel wicked. Terror better described her emotion: outrageous fear about what would happen tomorrow nipped at her heels as she hiked along the dark, windswept country roads.
The thought of becoming an outcast, a misfit—not a girl anymore but not a wife, either—loomed like a huge black hole in front of her. Would she ever have fun again? Who would want to be her friend? Zanna yanked off her kapp and unpinned her hair to let the wind whip it around her face. Loneliness gripped her heart and she couldn’t stand to think about such total isolation. So she kept walking even though her shins ached.
What would happen tomorrow? Kneeling confessions were required for those who had blatantly strayed from the path, but most folks simply sat with their heads bowed as they admitted their wrongdoing. Ezra Yutzy had used his boy’s cell phone to arrange delivery of some deer he’d raised to stock the woods at a Minnesota hunting lodge. Zeke Detweiler had hauled hay with a modern tractor, while Bessie Mast had bought new dishes without first asking permission of her husband, Mervin. Piddly sins, compared to hers!
Folks in Cedar Creek might go through the motions of forgiving her premarital relations, but they’d be reminded of her trespass every time they saw her baby. Hers was not a forgive-and-forget kind of sin, and her child, too, would grow up in its shadow. And then, after she’d served out her punishment, what man would want her for his wife? They’d never forget how she had betrayed James Graber.
Maybe you should have gone along with the bishop’s way. Sounds a whole lot easier to let somebody else raise this baby.
The thought made her double over with pain. She stepped off the blacktop, bracing herself for another vomiting fit, but nothing came up. After she caught her breath, she took note of her surroundings.
How had she made it clear out to the Ropps’ dairy farm? When had it started raining? Nearly two miles she’d traveled, yet she hadn’t gotten rid of that jittery craziness that made her pulse pound so hard.
There’s the highway—your chance to keep on walking. Might be the best thing for everybody.
But Zanna turned toward home, hunkering down against the wind as the rain fell in sheets. She gasped at a lightning flash, wishing she’d paid more attention to the weather when she left.
When it rains, it pours. And this is only the beginning.
Abby jumped at the first bright flash of lightning. She didn’t feel right, being here in her cozy little home while her sister was out in this oncoming storm, but Zanna could have taken any of a dozen back roads or shortcuts across neighbors’ places. Finding her in the darkness would be nearly impossible. Maybe she had taken shelter in a barn…
A flapping sound, and a motion outside her kitchen window, made Abby lift her lantern to see outside. How had laundry gotten hung on her clothesline? As she rushed outside to rescue the dresses and pants that danced crazily in the wind, she realized Zanna had washed the clothes from her rag bin when she’d laundered Mervin’s coat. Abby raced back inside and shut the door against the first drops of rain.
“Oh, Zanna,” Abby murmured as the shower pelted her roof. “It seems like nothing’s gone right all day, and tomorrow isn’t likely to get much better. I wish I knew what to do for you, little sister.”
She dumped the contents of her laundry basket on her table and began to fold the pieces. Here were faded dresses she’d seen Eunice Graber wearing for years, worn thin at the elbows… three pairs of broadfall trousers with hems that had tattered from dragging on the ground. Abby had noticed how Merle seemed to be shrinking with age.
How would Eunice and Merle feel, watching their grandchild grow up across the road without a dat, instead of in their home with James? And how would they and Emma and James handle unkind remarks from folks around town who didn’t think Zanna should be allowed to keep this baby?
Abby folded clothes that Adah Ropp must have donated—drab dresses she and her two girls had worn, as well as her husband Rudy’s old shirts, which were stained and torn from working with his dairy herd. There was plenty of fabric for a large rug, even if it wouldn’t be a very colorful piece.
A loud rumble of thunder reminded Abby that Zanna was out there in the darkness somewhere, probably feeling lost and alone. She closed her eyes as she clutched the last wrinkled shirt to her chest. “Lord, I’m tired and I’m at a loss for answers,” she prayed above the patter of the rain on her roof, “but I can’t just stand by while my sister and James—our two families—flounder in the storm that’s blown into our lives. What would You have me do?”
For several moments she heard only tree branches tapping her window to the rhythm of the rain. It occurred to Abby then that while the Ordnung cautioned against interpreting Scripture, the best advice could be found in the Good Book. She went to her bedside table, where she kept her grandmother Abigail’s Bible, and opened it to her bookmark at Isaiah 61, where she’d left off reading.
“‘The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,’” Abby whispered, “‘because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; He hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted…’”
She felt tingly with goose bumps. There was no question about who was feeling meek and brokenhearted—and right now Zanna was out there getting drenched. Abby rushed to her closet for her raincoat, chiding herself for not going after her sister at the first rumble of thunder. She had no idea where to look, but she trusted God to guide her along the dark, wet roads. Wouldn’t life be so much simpler if she always had such faith?
“Zanna! Zanna, come here and get in!”
Zanna turned. Was she hearing voices now, truly going insane? Shielding her eyes from the rain, she saw the lanterns of a closed carriage as it approached. How had
she gotten so lost in her fear that she hadn’t heard the horse’s hoofbeats? Who would be out in this storm, offering her a ride?
“Get in, before you catch your death! Something told me to turn down this blacktop, or I might never have found you.”
“Abby!” Zanna clambered into the carriage. All this way she’d walked, determined to fight this battle alone, yet the sound of her sister’s voice—the proof of Abby’s unconditional love—broke down her defenses. She bawled like a baby as the carriage lurched forward, until the sound of the rain on its roof and the muffled clip-clop! clip-clop! of the horse’s hooves lulled her into a sense of peace.
She was safe. She would soon be dry and warm, in a cozy bed. And she was not alone. All that inner struggle… what had it accomplished, except that she felt as worn as an old choring dress?
Zanna sighed. “I can’t thank you enough, Abby.”
Her sister turned, smiling tiredly in the darkness. “You’ve got that right,” Abby teased. “We don’t want you to feel thankless ever again, ain’t so?”
Chapter 10
“Sister Suzanna, the members have heard your confession and have decided upon a six-week ban.” Bishop Gingerich’s voice resonated in the Yutzys’ basement as he gazed solemnly at the young woman who knelt with her head bowed and her hand over her face. “We’re not to shake your hand or eat with you, nor can we accept your gifts or assistance. We separate ourselves from you to show our love in Christ Jesus, that you might think on your sin and fully repent when your shunning has run its course.”
As James focused on the knees of his black pants, his insides twisted tighter than a pretzel. During the Members’ Meeting he’d been cleared of any blame for Zanna’s pregnancy, yet he felt no joy in it. Before she’d left the crowded room, Zanna had tearfully confessed to her sin of the flesh, but that didn’t fill the emptiness that yawned inside him.
“Do you understand the serious nature of this discipline?” the bishop continued. “Do you realize, Suzanna, that we all pray you’ll return to the fold, submitting fully to God’s will and ready for right living again?”
She sniffled loudly. “Jah, this is the punishment I deserve,” she murmured. “I was wrong to defile the love James Graber has always shown me.”
James squeezed his eyes shut, stabbed by a pain like none he’d ever endured. He’d known Zanna had a willful streak—a tendency to work things around to her own way—but never, never had he anticipated her unfaithfulness. Since he had no carriage orders lined up for the next couple of weeks, it might be best to visit kin, as he’d planned. He wouldn’t collect any wedding presents, of course, but time away from this humiliation would do his heart good.
His dat leaned into him, talking louder than was polite because his hearing was almost gone. “Ain’t that the Lambright girl, son? The one you just married?” he asked in a thin voice that carried above the crowd. “Why’s she confessin’ to havin’ a baby? Ain’t that the natural way of things?”
James clenched his jaw against a bad answer: Dat’s memory had grown dimmer, and because he hadn’t seen for himself that the wedding was canceled, it wasn’t real to him. “We’ll talk about it in a few, Dat,” he whispered against his father’s gnarled ear. “For now, we want to be quiet so the meeting will be adjourned. Time for dinner.”
“Could be Merle’s seeing things clearer than we give him credit for,” a voice came from the women’s side of the room.
The crowd went quiet. Vernon and the two preachers tried to identify who had spoken: such an utterance was highly uncommon once the verdict had been announced. “Please stand and state your meaning,” Abe Nissley insisted.
“Jah, we’ll not be having any discussion after the fact,” Paul confirmed. “It’s not right to undermine the bishop’s decision, now that we’ve voted.”
James’s temples throbbed. The Yutzys’ basement was stuffy, and a lifetime’s training in patience wasn’t making this extended meeting any easier to endure.
Finally a lone figure rose on the far side of the room. “It’s all well and gut to put the ban on Zanna,” Adah Ropp ventured, “but she shouldn’t bear the punishment alone.”
James groaned silently. Rudy Ropp owned a large herd of Holsteins while his wife worked at the Mennonite cheese factory where they sold their milk, north of Clearwater. Some said Adah secretly favored electricity and other progressive ways because of her association with these folks—even though everyone agreed you couldn’t buy better cheese anywhere.
Bishop Gingerich cleared his throat. “And what are you suggesting, Sister Adah? You could have spoken up during our previous discussion.”
Adah clasped her hands in front of her black apron. “Rudy and I are raising two girls near the same age as Zanna, still in their rumspringa,” she said. “Plenty of parents here want to know about the fella their daughters ought to steer clear of.”
Kapps bobbed. Whispers hissed among the members on both sides.
“What’s Adah sayin’?” Merle demanded in a loud whisper. “Why’s she askin’ who—”
“Shhh!” James placed a finger on his father’s lips, wishing the bishop had stifled this nonsense. “Mamm’ll be giving you the look for talking out of turn.”
Zanna’s face flushed as she turned to face the women’s side. “You’d better be sure you want that answer before you ask such a question, Adah Ropp.”
The crowd sucked in its breath. Zanna still stood before the bishop and the preachers, and while she had appeared contrite during her confession, the headstrong young woman James knew so well had just met Adah’s challenge with one of her own: another unheard-of disruption of order.
And why would that be?
James’s stomach clenched again as he considered the possibilities. It was no secret that the two Ropp sons had scattered—left Cedar Creek rather than join the church or go into their dat’s dairy operation. His nerves jangled. Even though he secretly wanted to confront the man who’d shamed his fiancée, a part of him didn’t want to know which fellow Zanna had fallen for. After he’d waited all these years to find the right wife, losing her to a moment of misplaced passion made him feel… lacking, even though the situation was clearly wrong.
“What are you saying, Zanna?” Adah replied tightly. “It’s not proper for you to protect that fella from your shame. And it’s not right to raise a child without its father.”
“Tell that to Jonny, then!” Zanna blurted out. As gasps and murmurs rose among the members, Zanna clapped a hand over her mouth and ran from the crowded room, a retching sound drifting back through the door before it could close.
Jonny Ropp, was it? What did she see in that defiant, no-account—
James crossed his arms hard, feeling trapped on that runaway roller coaster again. He wanted to chase after Zanna and demand the truth. He wanted to hitch Jonny Ropp to a carriage and make him haul the weight of this shame and humiliation.
Not that Jonny would care about what he’d done to Zanna, or to the relationship James had cherished with her. Last he’d heard, the younger Ropp boy had jumped the fence and never looked back. No one seemed to know where he was or what he was doing—
But Zanna knows. And she doesn’t want to tell anyone else. Why isn’t she hauling him into this ring of fire—making him own up to that one time he took advantage of—that one time she let him—
Too agitated to sit any longer, James stood up. At the same time, Abby Lambright rose from her tightly packed row of women to excuse herself, probably to go help her little sister. Adah, too, pushed sideways between female knees and the next bench, as though she intended to be the first to reach Zanna.
“We’ll not be going anywhere until this meeting is finished and we’ve blessed the meal we’re about to share,” Vernon announced firmly. “Sit down. All of you.”
With a sigh, James obeyed. Abby and Adah eased back into their places.
“We’ll adjourn with no further discussion here—or any gossip about this situation once we leave,”
the bishop added sternly. “It’s unfortunate, the way we’ve learned more about Suzanna’s situation. But because Jonny’s not joined the church, we have no means of persuading him to come forward unless he confesses of his own free will.”
Vernon looked at the women and then at the men. “So we’re leaving this matter to the Lord and we’ll wait and watch for His guidance. As the Good Book says, we are to be still and know that He is God. Are we in accord about this?”
Heads nodded. “Ayes” were murmured.
James closed his eyes. His temples throbbed. The airless basement was closing in on him, and he knew he couldn’t sit there much longer.
“So be it, then.”
As Vernon called for a moment of silent thanks for the common meal they were about to share, James felt anything but hungry. Had Zanna taken off again? Now that the rest of her secret was out, would she go elsewhere and find a way to support herself and her baby? She’d threatened to do that last night, and it wouldn’t surprise him.
Or was she on her way back to Jonny?
Abby rushed out the basement door and broke free from the crowd of chatting women. Across the Yutzys’ yard she raced, gazing beyond the pens of chickens and ducks, and then past the enclosures filled with the young deer that Ezra raised for northern lodges, to stock their forests for hunters. How had Zanna disappeared so quickly when she was sick to her stomach? It wasn’t until Abby hurried past the large building that housed Ezra Yutzy’s wooden pallet business that she heard muffled weeping.
“Oh, Zanna!” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around the most forlorn figure she’d ever seen. “You might be under the ban, but you’ll never be alone. The worst is behind you now.”
Abby tucked her little sister’s head against her shoulder and swayed slowly, rocking her in that ageless, instinctive rhythm, the same way she’d soothed this little soul since the day she was born. She’d been the one to comfort Sam and Barbara’s little ones, too—Aunt Abby had always loved holding these children close as their breathing fell into rhythm with hers. Zanna’s arms encircled her shoulders and for several moments she sobbed out her frustration and pain… the weight of confessing her activities as well as the name they’d all been waiting to hear.
