“You’re a huge help in the kitchen.” Emma smiled at her granddaughter and reminded herself to be patient. Their community was small, and Katie Ann had attended relatively few funerals. No doubt that, along with the unusual circumstances surrounding Vernon’s death, had her on edge.
Henry walked in from the back porch. “Gut morning.”
“And to you, Henry.” Emma looked at Katie Ann, but she was staring at the plain wood casket, which had been placed on the table.
Normally they would dress the body in white clothes, a symbol of the person’s new heavenly life. But because of the state of Vernon’s body, this wasn’t possible. It was a troubling thought, but Emma was sure Henry had covered Vernon’s remains with the pristine white cloth she’d provided the day before. It was a small gesture, but it was something.
“Could you do without Katie Ann for a few minutes?” Henry asked. “Those kittens are growing fast. Nancy’s grandkinner are already out in the barn, and we could use Katie Ann’s help in picking out some names.”
A smile broke across Katie Ann’s face, though it disappeared when she glanced again at the casket. Fidgeting with her kapp strings, she said in a low voice, “Ya. I’d love to see them. If it’s… if it’s okay, that is.”
Henry assured her it was. She handed her grandmother the box, and then she and Henry walked out the back door together.
Though it was still an hour before the visitation was set to begin, Nancy, Ruth, and Franey were already in the kitchen.
“You three must have cooked all night,” Emma said.
“In spite of my arthritis.” Franey had brought a half-dozen loaves of fresh bread, a platter of biscuits, and two pans of corn bread.
Nancy hurried over to help Emma with the box she was carrying. “I brought a spaghetti casserole and a chicken one. What did you bring?”
“Sliced ham and a cheese platter.”
“I have two cakes and three pies,” Ruth said. “I was thinking lemon, but then that seemed too happy a thing to bring to a funeral, so I decided on chocolate for one and carrot for the other. Do you think that’s all right? And then the pies. Well, there were so many options, but I made a banana cream for church just a few days ago. I decided on red raspberry cream since they had raspberries at the grocery store in town. I prefer fresh. Don’t you?”
Ruth continued to talk as she set out plates, silverware, and glasses. At some point Emma’s attention drifted back to Vernon, and then without even realizing it she’d walked into the sitting room. She found herself standing beside the closed coffin and staring down at it.
“Did you know him well?” Nancy asked.
Emma nearly jumped out of her apron.
“Sorry. I thought you heard me walk in after you.”
“No worries. I’m too jittery. Actually, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I feel a little off.”
“I suppose we all do.”
They stood there a minute, both staring down at the plain pine coffin. Same as everyone who was Amish would one day have.
“In answer to your question, no. I didn’t know him well. Which is a real shame because we’ve lived here thirteen years. After so long a time, you would think I could tell you something about him, but I can’t.”
“He didn’t seem to let anyone close.”
“Perhaps, or perhaps I didn’t try hard enough.” She turned and offered Nancy a weak smile. “Now we’ll never know.”
Nancy nodded, and then she stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I heard the person who did this could be Amish.”
“I doubt that.”
“The investigator and the sheriff went to see Sam Beiler.”
“They also came to see Henry, but no one is accusing him of such a thing.”
“I’m not accusing Sam. I’m worried about him. I’m worried that he’s somehow mixed up in this.”
Emma attempted to count to ten, made it to three, and said, “Think before you speak, but don’t speak all you think.”
“My mamm used to quote that one too. But Emma, this isn’t gossip. My grandson, Nathan, was coming back from town that night… the night Vernon was killed.”
“At two in the morning?”
“He’s courting Abe’s girl. You remember how it is. They lost track of time.” Nancy stared at the casket, and then she turned her attention back to Emma. “He saw Sam at the phone shack, the one close to Vernon’s place.”
“That proves nothing.”
“I agree, but according to what was in the paper this morning, the emergency call was placed from that phone shack.”
“Sam Beiler…” Emma lowered her voice. “Sam Beiler did not kill Vernon. I’ve known Sam since he was born, since our time in Goshen, and so have you.”
“I’m not saying he did, but it’s not for us to decide, is it? The Englischers will find out, and if he’s guilty, then they’ll arrest Sam.”
“Did Nathan tell the police?”
“Nein. And since they haven’t asked, we’re letting that be. But if they do ask, he’ll have to speak the truth.”
“All right. I’ll talk to Sam when he gets here.”
Nancy turned back to the kitchen but stopped when Emma reached for her arm and pulled her closer.
“I’m sorry for being short with you.”
Nancy patted her hand. Emma looked down, saw Nancy’s hand upon her own, and suddenly realized how closely their lives were intertwined—everyone in an Amish community. They were more than neighbors but less than family. They were a group of believers bound by faith and history.
The sound of buggies approaching ended their conversation.
But as Emma helped with the last-minute preparations in the kitchen, she couldn’t help glancing up every few moments, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sam.
Twelve
The viewing went well, even if it was a bit more somber than usual. Each family paid their respects, pausing a few moments in front of the closed coffin to offer a prayer. Henry’s home was full to overflowing, and though the weather was dour, the rain held off.
Abe preached using some of the scriptures Henry had suggested he read. His tone was cautionary, reminding them that no one knew their appointed hour, but it was also hopeful. He quoted verse after verse that described their heavenly home. He traced the promise of life with their heavenly Father from the Old Testament, through the Gospels, and ended with Revelation. They sang hymns, offered prayers, and finally carried the casket to the bench buggy, which had been draped with black cloth.
Henry’s buggy, with Oreo hitched and waiting patiently, had been chalked with a number one. The bench buggy with the casket would be second. Everyone else would fall in behind it.
Henry led the procession to Leroy Kauffmann’s place. Leroy had the largest acreage and had donated a corner of the land for use as a cemetery. Henry had been there many times. He’d buried the young and the old. He’d buried some who had been sick for years and some who had fallen ill suddenly. He’d even buried one family that was killed in a buggy accident by a speeding and inebriated Englischer.
Today the Englischers were respectful, pulling to the side of the road and allowing the long line of buggies to pass. The grave had been dug by hand the night before. As they approached, Henry saw the mound of fresh dirt next to the hole. His heart ached for Vernon, and he prayed for God’s forgiveness, wishing he’d done more to minister to the man while he was alive.
Once everyone had gathered around the grave, Henry opened his Bible and began to read from the third chapter of Ecclesiastes. “ ‘There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot.’ ”
Several of the women dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs.
Henry had not dreamed of being a bishop. Given the other challenges in his life, it had never even crossed his mind. When his name had been submitted, he was certain God would choose another, but the lot had fallen on him. That had been so many years ago.
He could never have envisioned the journey that would bring him to the San Luis Valley. His voice carried out across the group, confident and even. He’d learned long ago that he could have such confidence because the words he shared were the Lord’s, not his. God’s words were eternal. They were the one true, certain thing in this life.
“ ‘A time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.’ ”
He hadn’t known what to say to his congregation. He had been at a complete loss for how to minister to them during this terrible tragedy. They were familiar with death. But murder? That was something he’d hoped to never encounter again.
Someone coughed, and Henry realized he’d stopped reading. They were waiting for him to finish the words of wisdom written so long ago by King Solomon.
“ ‘A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.’ ” The rain began to fall softly around them.
“ ‘A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.’ ”
He’d explained Vernon’s unexpected death to Katie Ann and the other children when they were in the barn, or he’d tried to. Just as this cat had no idea when she would give birth, so we have no idea when our time will come to die. But Gotte knows, and we can trust Him. He glanced up now and caught Katie Ann staring at him, her hand in her mother’s.
“ ‘A time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away.’ ”
He nodded to the pallbearers, who lowered the coffin and then began to shovel soil into the grave as he finished the reading.
“ ‘A time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak.’ ”
Young Nathan Kline had been staring at his shoes, but now, Henry noticed, he jerked his head up.
“ ‘A time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.’ ”
Then Henry led them in praying that Vernon Frey had claimed his heavenly reward, that their community would find peace, and that this would be a time for their members to love one another and a time for their hearts to mend.
Before leaving, he glanced again at the headstone and read the words simply and plainly engraved there.
Vernon Frey
3-14-1954
5-1-2016
62 years, 1 month, 18 days
Which pretty much summed up Vernon’s life. They would all be remembered by their deeds, their kindness to one another, and the roots of love they left behind. Vernon’s life on this earth was over.
All that was left was to find his killer.
Thirteen
The trouble didn’t begin until after the funeral service. Emma was standing in the food line, pulling away an empty bowl that had held green bean casserole and replacing it with a full dish of sweet potatoes. She was preoccupied, wondering why she hadn’t seen Sam, when she caught the first stirrings of gossip.
“Vernon paid no consideration to whether he was legally right or wrong.” Leroy shook his head as if he couldn’t understand such an attitude. “He basically did as he pleased.”
“You can’t know that,” Lewis Glick said. Lewis was the newest addition to their community. He kept to himself generally, so it surprised Emma that he would be talking to Leroy about anything other than the weather.
“Sure can. Saw the property pins myself. He had stuff scattered across his property line in three directions. The only thing that could stop Vernon was the road.”
“It did seem like he’d accumulated quite a bit of… merchandise.”
“Junk. It was junk, plain and simple, and the neighbors were tired of it.”
The two men spoke in low voices, and Emma wouldn’t have heard if Nathan hadn’t held up the line waiting for more fresh bread. The men glanced up and realized she was standing there listening. They smiled weakly before moving silently on down the line.
“Something wrong?” Ruth asked.
“Nein. Nothing at all.” The last thing she needed was to get Ruth started talking about Vernon’s supposed misdeeds. The woman was a hard worker, but she didn’t have much of a filter for what not to say and where not to say it. She’d once mentioned seeing Henry’s underthings hanging on the line and needing to show him how to use bleach. Fortunately she’d only said it to other women, but that was because they were at a sew-in and no men were in the room.
Emma hurried back to the stove to check on what dishes remained to be set out.
And that was when the trouble worsened.
Susan and Franey were standing at the kitchen sink. Because Abe was a minister, Susan held an important place in their community. Plus there was the fact that Henry was widowed and had no wife to help him in ministering to their group. It fell on Susan—as well as Rachel with Emma’s help—to put together meals for those who were sick, make sure weddings were well attended, and coordinate gifts for new babies.
Abe and his brother, Alvin, were as different as night and day in personality, though the brothers bore a strong resemblance physically. Emma knew Abe occasionally hired a driver to take him over to Alamosa to see his brother, perhaps hoping to draw him back into the fold. But Alvin had remarried, and Emma didn’t think he’d be returning to their Plain life. If he did, he’d have to leave the second wife and reclaim the first. She’d never heard of such a thing happening.
Susan was a sweet, kind woman, but apparently she’d been tested to her limits by Franey’s whining.
“Don’t pretend you cared overmuch for Vernon.” Susan was already washing dishes—the empty casserole bowls. She plunged her hands into the soapy water, causing suds to fly.
“Of course I cared for him.” Franey sniffed, a habit she sorely needed to lose. It was as if she always smelled something terrible. It caused a person to question their own hygiene.
“You are terrified of being alone.”
Franey snatched a dish from the drain and turned it round and round, drying it with the dish towel that had been draped over her shoulder. “That’s not true.”
“It is, and I don’t understand it when we are happy to have you living with us.”
“Ya, you’re quite kind to give shelter to the poor abandoned Amish woman. I’m sure you’re thrilled to have me there.”
“You need to stop this.”
“There’s nothing to stop!”
Franey’s voice was rising, and her eyes had widened in embarrassment, but Susan seemed not to notice.
“The man hasn’t been in the ground more than an hour. This day is not about you.”
“Did I say it was?”
“It’s about Vernon and doing right by members of our community.” Now Susan was aggressively washing dishes and tossing them into the side drain.
All of the women working in the kitchen, which was pretty much all of the women in their community, stopped and stared. It was impossible not to hear the argument, but no one knew what to do.
Emma stepped forward. “Perhaps I could help you with the dishes.”
“So now I can’t do dishes either?” Franey snatched a dish from the rinse water and tossed it back at Susan. “You didn’t clean this one properly.”
Susan appeared not to hear her. “You took meals to Vernon when he plainly told you to stop. Why? Because you don’t listen to others.”
“He never said that.”
“He did say as much, and I was there the last time he brought your casserole dish back.”
Franey’s cheeks blossomed into two bright red spots.
“Your situation is something you must learn to accept, Franey. Stop harassing the men in our community, and for heaven’s sake stop bringing food to Henry when he does not need or want it.”
“I’m not surprised you’re speaking hatefully to me.”
“I’m speaking plainly.”
“Cruel. That’s what you are.” Franey put her hand into the rinse water, and after that everything happened very quickly.
Franey scooped up a handful of rinse water
and tossed it at her sister-in-law.
Susan stepped back, mouth open, and bumped into Nancy, who was carrying one of her raspberry cream pies. She stumbled, nearly dropped the pie, caught it, and then she bumped into Emma. The pie went flying like a goose at Christmas, and it did not land on Franey. There might have been some poetic justice if it had. Instead, it splattered across the front of Susan’s clothes, leaving a trail of red and white on her black apron.
Several women rushed forward to help Susan.
Franey stomped out of the room.
And Nancy looked as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“There’s another pie,” Emma assured her.
She hurried back to Henry’s refrigerator to pull out the second pie. She’d opened the door, grateful for the bit of cool air that drifted out, and that was when they all heard the scream of the fire engine.
Fourteen
Henry insisted they continue the meal. “I’ll send Nathan to the phone shack to find out what’s happened.”
The rain that had begun falling at the graveside service had stopped, but certainly the ground would be damp enough to prevent any fire from spreading. The day had remained overcast and gloomy, and Henry had trouble envisioning how anything could be burning. Perhaps it had been a medical emergency. But Nathan returned from the phone shack to say there had, indeed, been a fire.
“It’s at the JSW construction site in town.” Nathan was a bit breathless from his run to the phone shack.
“Was anyone hurt?” Abe asked.
“Nein. The person at the police station didn’t think so, but a gut portion of the construction supplies have been destroyed. She couldn’t tell me any more than that.”
Everyone drifted back to what they were doing before hearing the fire truck’s siren. Henry sat back down at the table with Clyde and Abe and Leroy.
“A tragedy for sure,” Clyde said. He glanced at Emma, who was still standing in the kitchen. “Silas works at the site, and he says the foreman is a fair man. Certainly he doesn’t need this type of trouble.”
What the Bishop Saw Page 6
