Wonderful Lonesome

by Newport, Olivia

  “We can talk it over with Eber. I propose to camp out behind your barn for two weeks. I won’t ask anything of you in the house except a bit of water if you can spare it. I’ll give the other men a break by looking after all the chores, and if you need to go into town or want to visit with your friend Abbie, you can do so knowing that someone is here with Eber.”

  Ruthanna swallowed as she considered. What he suggested had merit. “Only for two weeks. Not a day more.”

  Jake turned a palm up. “We all hope Eber will be better soon.”

  “And only if Eber agrees.”

  “Of course.”

  The committee assembled at the crossroads that joined three farms. Two miles away was Noah Chupp’s land, with a promising vegetable garden despite the drought and a separate structure he used for a small tannery and cobbler’s shop. He made shoes for the English as well, along with other leather goods, and it seemed to Willem that Noah’s livelihood was thriving better than most. Willem was glad for the whole Chupp family, which included seven children under the age of twelve.

  Willem never intended to be on this committee. Certainly he did not volunteer for it. Unlike Rudy, Willem hesitated to decline anything Eli Yoder asked him to do, so here he was with Eli. They stood beside their horses as they waited for the widower Samuels to join them. The trio would proceed together to hear Noah’s discernment of the Lord’s leading about becoming the first minister of the fledgling congregation, provided a bishop would agree to ordain him.

  Martin Samuels trotted toward them, slowing his gelding but not dismounting.

  Eli crossed his wrists in front of him. “Shall we have a word of prayer before we proceed?”

  Willem hoped God had already made His will plain to Noah Chupp. Most congregations chose their ministers by lot, and the man chosen rarely had grounds to refuse. Noah already enjoyed the privilege of private discernment. But once again Willem found it impossible to refuse Eli.

  “I agree,” Martin said. “If Noah feels the calling of God to take up this mantle, he will bear the burden of healing the divide among us. It will not be an easy task. Will we wait until he agrees before we explain why the bishop left last year?”

  Eli’s eyes flashed at Willem before lowering in a posture of prayer. “We will not speak of that. We will pray only for our future.”

  Willem would have been hard-pressed to say he was praying in the moments of silence that followed. Too many questions flashed through his mind. He did not even close his eyes, instead gazing first at Eli and then at Martin. Eli stood motionless, head bowed, eyes closed, feet shoulder width apart. On his horse Martin leaned over the horn of the saddle, one hand crossed above the other, with his eyes squeezed in peculiar fervency.

  Rudy’s barn door was wide open in the middle of the morning. Abbie glanced at the cows dotting the nearest field and then turned toward the smaller horse pasture. The animals were all where they were supposed to be. She knocked on the house door as usual, heard no response, and went inside to leave the bread. Coming out again, it disturbed her to see the barn door open, and rather than climbing back into her cart, she strode over to the barn.

  “Rudy?”

  “In here.” A grunt accompanied his reply.

  Visions of Eber sprawled in the straw spurred Abbie into the depths of the barn. “Where are you?”

  “The end stall.”

  Abbie kicked straw out of the walkway. When she saw him, Abbie gasped. A cow was secured in the stall, and Rudy had one arm well inside it.

  “Time for the calf?” Abbie said. She had seen calves born on her own family’s farm in Ohio, but the wonder of it mesmerized her every time. “Is she all right?”

  Rudy nodded, his eyes closed.

  He was visualizing the position of the calf, Abbie knew.

  “I have one foot and the nose,” he said. “Ah. There’s the other foot.”

  Abbie moved into the stall. “How can I help?”

  “Hand me the rope,” Rudy said. “It’s there on the wall.”

  Abbie handed it to him and then leaned over his shoulder to peer into the mystery of life. Rudy secured the feet and prepared to pull if necessary. The cow began to strain, and as she did, Rudy checked the position of the calf once again.

  “Will it be a normal birth?” Abbie asked.

  “I think so. The mother is doing well. This is her third calf.”

  Abbie held her breath, awaiting the cow’s next round of exertion.

  “Here we go,” Rudy said, readjusting his position to brace for delivery.

  Abbie stepped back to watch without further chatter until first the face, then one shoulder, then the other emerged. Rudy kept his hands positioned to respond to distress but otherwise let the natural process take its course. Within a few minutes, the calf lay in the straw beside its mother. Rudy examined the newborn quickly.

  “Is it all right?” Abbie asked.

  Rudy looked up and grinned. “A female, and she’s perfect.”

  Abbie squatted to look more closely, taking in the angles of the legs and the curves of the head. “God is good.”

  Rudy calmly tended to the mother. “I’m glad you were here to see the birth.”

  “I am, too. I would have come ready to be more help if I had known.”

  “She was fast. I only started watching her closely last night, and not much happened until this morning.”

  “God has blessed you.” Abbie stepped out of the stall. “I’ll heat some water so you can clean up.”

  “Danki.”

  Abbie turned for one last look at mother, calf, and Rudy, a triangle of tenderness in a bed of straw. She had not seen such contentment on Rudy’s face in months—but perhaps she had not been looking.

  Thank you for taking me to town with you.” Ruthanna offered Abbie a grateful smile.

  “It was no trouble. I was going anyway, and it’s so much more fun to have you with me.” The reins were nearly slack in Abbie’s hands. Their business in Limon complete, they were in no rush to return to the chores that awaited them.

  “We both did well with our eggs today,” Ruthanna said. “It seems to be the only thing that gives us a bit of cash these days. Imagine what would happen if the townspeople figured out they could keep chickens in back of their houses.”

  “They don’t like the smell and the mess. So far there are enough merchants to take eggs from both us and the English farmers. God provides.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that the railroads will buy as many eggs as they can get to feed their employees.”

  Abbie chuckled. “Blessing comes in many forms.”

  Ruthanna spread her arms out in front of her. “Fresh air! I’ve barely been out of the house in weeks. Jake insisted it would be good for me to have an outing. He promised he would stay inside the house with Eber the whole time I was gone.”

  Abbie bit back the response that sprang to her mind. If Ruthanna had wanted to go somewhere, Abbie or one of her parents gladly would have stayed with Eber. Abbie visited every day, sometimes collecting eggs to sell in town, and Ruthanna never said she wished she could go, too. But she took advice from Jake Heatwole, that Mennonite minister who obviously was looking for people to help him start a congregation of his own.

  “Have you heard anything new about Noah Chupp?” Ruthanna asked. “It’s already been four days since he told the committee he needed more time.”

  Abbie nodded. Talking about the possibility of their own minister was a far more pleasant topic. “I think he wants to be very sure, and I cannot blame him. It’s an honor to be asked, and he will want to be sure of his motives before the Lord.”

  Ruthanna peered down the road at her approaching farm. “I do hope Eber is all right.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Abbie clicked her tongue to speed the horse for Ruthanna’s sake. “He seemed much better this morning when we left.”

  “He enjoys Jake’s company, even if he has reservations about the Mennonites.”

  “If Eber is fe
eling well enough for company, I am sure our own men would be happy to see more of him.”

  “Willem and Rudy have been by, of course. We’re out of the way for everyone else.”

  “Nonsense. I will mention to my daed that Eber might benefit from some male company.” She turned into the lane that would take them to the Gingerich home. To her surprise, Eber was sitting in a chair in the yard.

  When Abbie stopped the buggy, Ruthanna got down as gracefully as possible in her condition.

  “Eber! You’re outside!” Ruthanna closed the yards between them and put a hand on her husband’s head.

  “Jake carried the chair outside,” Eber said, “on condition that I agree not to lift a hand with the work.”

  Abbie followed Ruthanna’s eyes as she smiled at the Mennonite minister.

  Jake picked up a rag and wiped it across his forehead. “I thought I would make some repairs to the henhouse. Hail damage, I think.”

  “I’m sure the hens will be grateful,” Ruthanna said.

  “Maybe they’ve gotten used to seeing the stars at night.”

  Ruthanna laughed. Still in the buggy, Abbie clamped her jaw closed. This was not the time to impress on Ruthanna that Jake Heatwole’s motives might include recruiting the Gingeriches.

  “I should go.” Abbie rearranged her grip on the reins. “As soon as I hear that Noah Chupp has officially accepted, I’ll let you know.”

  Willem looked up when the shadow across the barn door interfered with the light he was depending on. “Noah! Good afternoon.”

  Noah stood in the doorway without stepping into the barn. “Do you have a few minutes, Willem?”

  “Certainly.” Willem laid down the short stool leg he was carving to replace one that had cracked on his milking stool. “Shall we go in the house? It’s humble, but it’s out of the sun.”

  Noah nodded, and Willem led the way. Inside, Willem turned two narrow wooden chairs toward each other. He saw the perspiration seeping through Noah’s beard.

  “Let me get you a glass of water.”

  Noah put up one hand as he sat down. “There is no need. I’m on my way into town to deliver some boots and will not take up much of your time.”

  Willem scratched the back of his head and occupied the other chair. The space between them would have accommodated one pair of stretched out limbs, but Willem took his cue from Noah and sat straight and upright.

  Noah cleared his throat. “I told the committee I would let you know when I made a decision.”

  Willem held his face in solemn stillness, already suspecting that Eli Yoder was going to be unhappy with what Noah was preparing to say.

  “Yes,” Willem said, “we are anxious to hear what sign the Lord has given you.”

  “I came here because I believe you are the most sensible man on the committee who visited me four days ago.”

  Willem waited.

  “I must decline the gracious invitation to serve as the settlement’s first minister.”

  Willem sighed. He could not think of one settler who would not be disappointed to hear this decision.

  “People will have many questions,” Noah said.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Willem waited as Noah shuffled his feet and rubbed his hands down his legs.

  “We each must serve out of our conscience,” Noah said. “My conscience will not allow me to accept such a grave responsibility while my spirit is home to the least bit of doubt.”

  “Doubt?” Willem had never known Noah Chupp to be filled with anything but devout faith. “Are you doubting our Lord?”

  Noah shook his head. “Our Lord is faithful, and my faith in Him is firm.”

  “Then what troubles your spirit, Noah?”

  “Our settlement is as fragile as an old stalk of wheat.”

  Willem leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Yes, we are precarious. I would have to agree. But we all feel that a formal church with a minister will only be to our good. When we hear the Word preached and sing our hymns together, our bonds will surely strengthen.”

  Noah tilted his head. “I realize that is the prevailing sentiment.”

  “Is it not more than sentiment? Is it not faith?”

  “Therein lies my doubt,” Noah said. “We are few in number as it is. No one else is coming. We need members. We need crops to feed our families and take to market. Frankly, I believe we will lose families rather than gain them.”

  Willem also suspected this to be true, so he offered no dispute.

  Noah licked his lips and glanced around the house before meeting Willem’s eyes again. “My family will be the first to leave, Willem.”

  Willem sat up and scraped his chair back a few inches. “Have you already decided? I thought your livelihood was going well because you took in work from the English.”

  “It is. But I need a church as much as anyone. My seven children need a church. In a few years my eldest daughter will be looking for a husband. Am I supposed to marry her off to Widower Samuels? Or that bundle of nerves Rudy Stutzman?”

  Willem had no response.

  “I am on my way to Limon to mail the documents to finalize the purchase of land in Nebraska. I am already talking to an English interested in my land here. He won’t pay what I paid per acre, but I will go away with something to start again.”

  “I see. You’ve given this a great deal of thought.”

  Noah rubbed a knuckle against the side of his nose. “I may as well tell you the whole truth.”

  “There’s more?”

  “I am leaving the Amish.”

  “Leaving? Altogether?”

  Noah nodded. “I believe the Mennonites are fine people, and not so different from us. Even the Baptists are true people of God, and many of them live as plainly as we do. I am sure we will find a spiritual home.”

  Willem felt his jaw drop open. He never suspected Noah Chupp would consider anyone beyond the Amish to be true people of God. He cleared his throat.

  Noah stood. “I thank you for not trying to talk me out of a decision I have wrestled with in prayer for long hours.”

  Willem stood as well. “I know you can’t have come to this easily. What would you like me to do for you, Noah?”

  “Speak to Eli Yoder, please.”

  Willem’s heart thudded. “Perhaps we can go together to speak to him.”

  Noah waved off the idea. “I realize he will come directly to my shop as soon as he hears, and I will have to talk to him. But I trust your sensibilities to break this news to him first.”

  Abbie clenched her fists and glared at Willem.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “Noah Chupp’s decision is not my doing.”

  She kicked a rock down the rutted lane of her family’s land. Willem had waited until they were beyond earshot of the rest of the Weavers to tell her the news. She huffed out the air pent up in her chest.

  “I’m sorry. It just would have meant so much to the community for him to become our minister.” In an established district, church members would have chosen their minister by lot from among the men. Declining would have been far more difficult. Sadness crept through Abbie that time-tested traditions of their own faith had failed to answer this need.

  “I know how much you wanted Noah to accept,” Willem said.

  “To discern that it was not God’s will is one thing. But to move away and join the Mennonites? Or the Baptists?”

  “He remains a man of deep faith, Abigail.” Willem reached for her hand and pulled her to his side. “Gottes wille. If Noah is not to be our minister, God still has a plan. We will be all right.”

  “Why won’t any bishops come to us, Willem? That’s what I want to know.” She searched his face for any sign that he knew the answer to her question. “We don’t live in the wilderness. Colorado Springs is not so far, or Denver. Limon has twenty-four trains a day! Traveling to us is not a great difficulty.”

  She could see he had no response, but the rampage in her heart was too full blown to stop. �
�We need to worship in our traditional ways. We need to go to church. We need to hear the Word preached. Our settlement could bear everything else that is happening to us if we just had our spiritual life together.”

  Willem nodded and lifted both her hands, turning her to face him. “Jake Heatwole is a minister. He knows all our hymns. He speaks our language. We could have church.”

  A Mennonite church service. The thought of it almost caused physical pain in Abbie’s chest. She wondered if Willem knew her as well as she thought he did.

  Abbie stitched feverishly that night on the tree of life quilt, full of defiance of what Willem implied. His words would not be enough to diminish her faith.

  Abbie swiped a rag cut from a flour sack across the wide-planked table one last time. Rudy Stutzman lived simply. Cleaning his house never took long. He was not particularly organized, but he was more inclined than most men to push a broom across the floor occasionally or brush bread crumbs into his hand and shake them outside for the birds. Abbie had not seen Rudy that morning. She supposed he was in the fields, though it was possible he had decided to go into Limon. His horses were not in the pasture where Rudy usually left them during the day.

  She gathered her pail of cleaning supplies and stood on his narrow front step for a moment, her mind flashing to the day she had found him inquiring about train tickets. That was weeks ago. Surely he was not still thinking of leaving, not after the joy she saw on his face when the calf was born. Abbie heard chickens clacking in the yard and saw Rudy’s cows nuzzling the ground for something to chew. When Rudy acquired more than one cow, many had thought it was an odd choice for a bachelor. How much milk and cheese would he need? Abbie had smiled to herself at the time. Eight cows were Rudy’s investment in a future. Before long he was selling milk, butter, and cheese to English neighbors, claiming that the distance he had to drive to do so was well worth the income. Sometimes they paid him in meat or beans, which was almost as good as cash.

  With her pail beside her on the floor of the Weaver buggy—in the heat of midsummer, she preferred the shade of the buggy to the open-air cart—Abbie picked up the reins. She was on her way next to Mary Miller’s farm, having promised to sit with Little Abe for a few hours while Mary went to work on a quilt with Mrs. Nissley. Abe was past the age of sitting quietly to play on the floor while his mother concentrated on something besides him, and Abbie loved to be with him. With a glance at the sky to judge the time, Abbie opted for a detour that would take her well out of her way. Once she had made up her mind, she shut off any thoughts of reasons not to.