Mending Fences

by Suzanne Woods Fisher

  “Her name is Grace Miller. I don’t know much about her.”

  “She’s in Pennsylvania?”

  “I don’t know. She has a daughter who’s been in foster care.”

  The boys whipped out their phones and started tapping away at them. He wondered what barrel he had just pushed over the waterfall. There was no getting it back.

  One boy’s head popped up. “Grace Miller?” He held out his phone for Luke to look at. It was a picture of a woman, staring straight ahead, with a blank look in her eyes. Luke examined the picture more closely. He could see hints of Izzy in her face—the forehead, the eyebrows.

  “I think that might be her. Does your telephone say where she is?”

  “Telephone? He called it a telephone. Dude, it’s a smartphone. Where you been this last century?” That got them all laughing again, so loudly that Betty the librarian rose to her feet.

  Luke looked at the smart-mouthed boy with the smartphone. “Hurry up. The librarian’s on her way. What does it say?”

  The boy scanned the story, running his finger down the phone’s face. “Grace Miller was arrested on DUI charges.”

  Arrested. “She’s in jail? Where?”

  The boy read further. “She’s here, man. Down the road. Right over there in the Lancaster pokey.”

  Without any warning Betty was upon them, arms akimbo, and the boys scattered like buckshot into the aisles of books. Luke was the only one left. He tried to hold her mean, hawklike stare, but he buckled. “I was looking for something. They were helping me.”

  She shook a finger at him. “You shouldn’t be fiddling with computers. You’ll be getting into big trouble with your bishop. Technology is a tool of the devil, your people think.” In a doomed voice she whispered, “You’ll be shunned.”

  He cocked his head. He thought about trying to clarify her misconceptions, but then decided it wouldn’t matter. She believed what she wanted to believe. “Thank you for your concern for my welfare.”

  She’d done her duty—scolded the errant teens, warned Luke of his spiritual jeopardy. Satisfied, she dropped her arms and returned to her guard post.

  Luke sat down at the computer. He’d never actually used one before, but he had watched others use them. The boy who had been at the computer had typed in Grace Miller’s name and up came a number of bullet posts about her. The smartphone boy was quicker, so all eyes had turned to him. Luke pressed the first bullet point and highlighted it. Up came an entire newspaper article about Grace Miller’s DUI. It had happened last week. Just last week! Luke looked around for paper and a pen to write things down. He heard a hissing sound and looked up to see the smartphone boy.

  “Dude, don’t you know anything? You can print that out.” He looked over to see where Betty sat, saw that she was talking to someone, so he zipped out of the bookshelf and pressed a few buttons. “The printer is over by Ol’ Bag Betty,” he whispered. “You’ll have to go get it from her. It’ll cost you a dime.”

  A dime, plus a grim warning of his fate. “Thanks.” Luke smiled. “Thanks for helping.”

  The boy vanished.

  twenty-two

  Luke went straight to David at the Bent N’ Dent with the information he’d learned about Grace Miller. He hoped he might find the store empty, but there was Hank Lapp, sitting inside, drinking root beer. “LUKE SCHROCK. SIT YOURSELF DOWN and PLAY CHECKERS WITH ME.”

  “Thanks, Hank, but I need to see David.”

  “HE’S NOT HERE. I’m MINDING THE STORE for him.”

  “Where’d he go? Will he be back soon?”

  “THAT’S THE PROBLEM WITH YOUNG FOLKS. Always in a hurry. EVERYTHING is an EMERGENCY.”

  “Hank, I really need to see David.”

  “HE’LL BE BACK IN TWO SHAKES of a LAMB’S TAIL. Now SIT DOWN.”

  Two shakes of a lamb’s tail ended up being two long games of checkers. Luke was so distracted that Hank easily won, which delighted him. Finally, David walked in the door and Luke bolted up from the rocking chair. “David, can we talk?”

  “Sure. Let’s go back to my office. Hank, do you mind watching the counter?” There were no customers.

  “OF COURSE NOT! I’m EAGER to help.” With that, Hank stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles, and closed his eyes.

  In the office, David sat down and motioned to Luke to sit down, but he couldn’t sit. He could only pace. “David, I happen to know that there’s something Izzy’s been trying to do as long as I’ve known her, without any luck. I thought I might see if I could help. And I could. I found out what she was looking for. Something important.”

  “Sit down and tell me what’s so important.”

  “I’m not sure you would approve.”

  “Try me.”

  “Izzy’s been trying to locate her mother.”

  “Her mother? Why hasn’t she asked me about her? Or Fern and Amos?”

  Luke stopped pacing. “Wait. Do you know where her mother is?”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t even know her mother’s name.” David tilted his head. “Why does Izzy want to find her mother?”

  “I’m not sure. You know Izzy. She doesn’t volunteer much. I’ve seen her write letter after letter, and most got returned. That’s when I asked who she was writing to, and she chewed me out for butting into her business.”

  David smiled. “So why are you trying to butt into her business now?”

  “She asked! Don’t look at me like that. She really did. I asked her what I needed to do to prove I could be a worthy friend to her, and she told me that if I could find her mother, then she’d consider it. Izzy thinks I’m . . . let’s see . . . she says I am self-centered, and self-pitying, and annoying, and . . . anyway, you get my gist. I thought if I helped her find her mother, she might realize that I might be all those things, but I can also be a good guy.”

  “You are a good guy, Luke.”

  Luke grinned and seesawed his hand. “Getting there. A work in progress, mostly, thanks to you, and Amos and Fern. For not giving up on me.”

  “All thanks belongs to God. It really does, Luke. It all starts and ends with God. He’s the one who doesn’t give up.”

  “So speaking of not giving up,” Luke said, “I think I found Izzy’s mother.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m pretty sure. Not 100 percent sure. But I did see her picture and noticed a resemblance.”

  David held up one hand. “Back up. How did you happen to find this woman?”

  “On the library computer. I typed her name into the search line and up popped this newspaper article about her. Probably because it was so recent.”

  “What do you mean, recent?”

  “Grace Miller was arrested for a DUI just last week. And get this part . . . she’s in Lancaster.”

  David’s jaw dropped. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

  Luke pulled out the paper he’d printed out and handed it across the desk to David. “The picture printed out pretty blurry.” Really fuzzy.

  He sat back in the chair as David read, picked up a pencil, and underlined a few sentences. “It says here she’s being held at the Lancaster County Prison. Waiting court action.”

  Luke peered at what David had underlined and tried to read it upside down. “Are you going to contact someone?”

  “I might make a phone call or two. See if her arraignment is on the court docket.” He stilled his pencil and looked up at Luke. “Have you told Izzy any of this?”

  “No, nothing. I came straight to you.”

  “Do me a favor and hold off for now. I want to find out more about her mother.” More to himself he added, “She’s come so far from when she first arrived.”

  Luke would’ve liked to ask David more about that particular topic, about what Izzy was like when she first arrived, but he knew what the answer would be. David was careful about guarding others’ privacy. He appreciated it for his own sake; he needed to respect it for others. He glanced at David. “I won’t say a word to Iz
zy. But will you let me know what more you find out about this Grace Miller?”

  “I’ll tell you what I can, Luke. I just want us both to keep in mind that Izzy is our first priority. If it isn’t in her best interests to meet her mother right now, if her mother isn’t in good shape, then this subject is closed. Got it?”

  Luke lifted his hands in surrender. “Got it.” And he did. Not saying anything about Grace Miller for now, and maybe indefinitely, was the noble thing to do. But being noble meant he had nothing to show Izzy to prove his friend-worthiness.

  After church on Sunday, David crossed the yard to speak to Luke. “I spoke to someone at the courthouse. They set up an appointment for me with the judge.”

  “The judge?” Luke felt a familiar trickle of discomfort. He had a healthy respect for the law, having brushed against it a few times. “Why?”

  “To find out more about Grace Miller.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “Would you be free to go with me? Monday at ten in the morning.”

  Luke was so pleased to be asked that he didn’t know how to respond, until something Fern always said popped into his mind. “Well, you never say no to a bishop.”

  David laughed. “I’ll have to remind my children of that. Meet me at the bus stop at nine.”

  Luke hardly slept that night. These encounters with the law brought up all kinds of uncomfortable memories. Sitting in the judge’s chambers was a sobering moment. It was very official, the walls lined with shelves full of thick legal books. He and David waited in two leather chairs, and Luke wondered how David could look so at ease in an environment where they were so ill fitted. They looked like what they were—old-fashioned farmers, sitting in a law office. But in came the judge, a woman who greeted David warmly.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while, David. How have you been?”

  “Very well, Rebecca. This is Luke Schrock. He’s the one I was telling you about.”

  Guilt seized Luke. What had he done that a judge needed to know about him? Nothing came to mind. Nothing recent, anyway.

  “So you’re the one who tracked down Grace Miller. When David told me there might be a family connection—a daughter, right?—I realized that might be why she came to Lancaster.” She sat down in her chair behind the desk, shifted her glasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose, and opened a file. “Last week, Grace Miller was picked up on a DUI charge in downtown Lancaster. She wasn’t actually driving. She’d pulled over to the side of the road, though the car’s engine was on.” The judge made a rocking motion with her hand. “It could be argued in court as a technicality, but she’s at a critical point in the system. Because she has a prior criminal record, the DA could try to get her sent to prison for a very long time. It’s all about Pennsylvania sentencing guidelines.” The judge closed the file and took off her glasses. “I spoke to her probation officer. She said Grace Miller has been making real progress in getting her life together. She’s kept a job, reported in regularly for drug testing, and has been clean for the past two years. That’s pretty significant. And then this.” The judge let out a weary sigh, like she’d heard this story before. “Something happened to her, is my guess. Some kind of stressful situation that took her right back to her old habits.”

  Ah, that scenario was one Luke was well familiar with.

  “David, when we spoke on the phone last week, you said you might have something to offer Grace Miller. I really don’t want to send her to prison. I’m not ignoring the DUI, but her car was on the side of the road without an incident. She hadn’t hit anything or caused any damage. If there had been, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  David leaned forward. “If you’re right, that she’s actually trying to turn her life around, but then was hit by some stress and couldn’t cope—well, to me, that says she hasn’t learned how to cope. Rebecca, I’d like to suggest Grace be placed in the Mountain Vista Rehabilitation Clinic. I think she could get something out of the clinic that could help her for the rest of her life.”

  The judge shook her head. “It’s a nice thought, but there’s no funds to pay for it.”

  “Our church. We’ll pay.”

  The judge snapped her head up. “Why?”

  “Because, if she is indeed the Grace Miller we’re seeking, she has a daughter who is joining our church. This woman has been brought into our lives through her daughter, and I believe God wants us to pay attention to her. To give her another chance.”

  “You’d do that for a stranger?”

  “For a church member’s mother. Yes, we would. Gladly.”

  “Even though it may not turn out the way you hope.”

  “Even so. At the very least, we will have peace before God that we’ve done all we can for this woman. And for her daughter too. In a way, she’s joining the extended family of the church.”

  The judge paused for a long moment, chin tucked. Then she lifted her head. “David, I’m going to do something I wouldn’t do for most people. I’m going to let you go to the prison and ask Grace if she’s willing to consider rehab. I want her to see you face-to-face. If she agrees to go to rehab, I’ll work with the DA and PD to find a satisfactory plea bargain. I have to warn you—if she’s like most addicts, she’ll check herself out of rehab and skip town. If so, there’ll be a warrant out for her arrest and that’ll be the end of it. But if a miracle occurs, and she sticks with it, then I take my hat off to you.”

  “Not to me, Rebecca, but to God. He’s in the business of making miracles.”

  She smiled. “In this case, I sincerely hope you’re right.”

  As Luke and David walked out of the courthouse, he glanced at the bishop. “How do you know the judge?”

  “She’s my third cousin on my mother’s side.”

  Luke jabbed a finger in the air. “I knew it! She reminded me a little bit of Dok.”

  David grinned. “Good eye. They’re no-nonsense women.”

  “Exactly.” He liked no-nonsense women. Fern, Ruthie, Izzy too. He liked their sharp wit. You knew right where you stood with them. He didn’t do as well with soft-hearted types, like his own mother or even Birdy. They made it too easy for him to take advantage of their kindness. The thought shamed him, but it also made him realize he was starting to have a greater self-awareness. And wasn’t that something the counselor encouraged him to develop? He would have to remember to tell him in the next phone call—I had my first glimmer of self-awareness!

  How pathetic was that?

  Still, it was a start.

  twenty-three

  It took just twenty-four hours for David to receive the call from the judge’s office that he was cleared to see Grace Miller, and once again, he asked Luke to come with him. Luke was overjoyed to be included, a feeling that lasted until he was inside the Lancaster County Prison. Even though it was in downtown Lancaster, its exterior looked like a charming European castle. As he passed through all kinds of ominous security checks, his excitement quickly faded. There was no doubt it was a prison.

  They were led to a sterile waiting area—called the greeting room but it looked more like a concrete bunker with armed guards at every corner—while another guard went to fetch Grace Miller. Luke felt his stomach swirl. Around him were visitors, women mostly, who had come to visit inmates for non-contact visitation, which meant a wall with glass divided inmate from visitor, and they spoke through a phone. The whole experience made the hair on Luke’s neck stand up. David, though, seemed pretty at ease.

  “Have you done this before?” Luke asked.

  “Yes, in fact, I have. The prison encourages clergy to come. Bishops, ministers, and deacons, we have to get used to all kinds of things. Even if it’s uncomfortable.”

  Luke didn’t want to get used to it. When Grace Miller was led through the door and to a chair at the glass wall, he quickly stepped back to let David be the one to speak to her. She was a petite woman, very thin, all angles and bones. Too thin. She looked careworn. Luke tried not to stare at her, but he c
ouldn’t help himself. As he studied her, he started to see a few signs of Izzy in that face—the shape of the eyes, the full mouth.

  Grace Miller kept shifting her gaze from David to Luke, as if she couldn’t grasp why these two Plain men were here, visiting her in jail. She picked up the phone.

  Luke looked to David to start the conversation and watched the color drain entirely out of his face, like someone pulled a stopper from a sink. David handed the phone to Luke and quickly rose, bolting for the door.

  “Whoa, David.” A red flare went off in Luke’s head. He held the phone receiver against his chest. “Hold on! Where are you going? What am I supposed to do?”

  Without turning around, David stopped at the door and said, “I need a minute, Luke. Talk to her about . . . I don’t know. About anything. I just . . . I need to go check on something.”

  Luke sat in the chair David had vacated, baffled. He had no business stepping into the bishop role! He needed David here. “Uh, I’m Luke Schrock. He’s, that guy who bolted, he’s the bishop. David Stoltzfus. We, uh, we’re Amish.” Okay, that sounded stupid.

  “Yeah, that I can see. Why do you keep staring at me?”

  Luke blinked several times and swallowed. “I guess, um, you remind me of someone.”

  “So what do you want?”

  Luke shot up an arrow prayer of Help! Really, God. I need help like I’ve never needed it. Right now.

  Acting braver than he felt, he said, “I understand you have a drinking problem. Or drugs? Maybe both?” Okay, that was another stupid thing to say.

  Grace’s eyes narrowed in a suspicious way. “I’m clean and sober.”

  “What I mean to say is, if you ever get out of jail, how are you planning to stay clean?”

  Wrong tack again. Angry now, Grace got up to leave just as David came back in the room. The color had returned to his face, and he seemed strangely calm, purposeful. Luke wondered how David could do that, gain control over himself. Self-control had never been a strength for Luke. Just the opposite. Highly impulsive tendencies, the counselor had once described of him.