by Nancy Mehl
At five fifteen I went outside and started my car after knocking off the snow that covered it. I wanted the interior to be warm for Ida. In Wichita, the police frowned on allowing cars to run unattended. They quickly became targets for car thieves. Here in Harmony, I could start my car in the middle of Main Street and leave it running and unlocked, and the only person who would touch it might be someone who felt the need to move it out of the way for other drivers. The kind of security the small town offered was wonderful but hard to get used to.
I went back inside and waited until twenty-five till six. Then I drove over to Ida’s. I was surprised by her request to ride into town with me. Most of the time, our Old Order Mennonite citizens avoid town meetings and elections. Their belief about keeping themselves separate when it comes to worldly systems of government means they don’t take social security payments or accept Medicare. Medical problems are usually taken care of by the community through homespun remedies. However, doctors are certainly consulted when necessary. Because of a lack of health insurance, larger bills are taken care of either by the local community church or through the district’s overseeing body. Sam told me once that since he’d come to live in Harmony, he’d noticed that those who lived by the Old Order or Conservative Mennonite teachings seemed to be healthier than most. I’d wondered if the lack of smoking, drinking, and junk food contributed. Sam had laughed and said most of Harmony’s Mennonite community would agree with my assessment—after adding one other reason. The most important one. Prayer.
Getting close to Ida’s was somewhat complicated. The snow had piled up and my little car skidded and slid all the way up to the house. Zebediah was nowhere to be seen. I felt confident he was huddled inside his stable, out of the unpleasant weather. As I clomped through the deepening snow, gusts blew ice particles into my face. I struggled to reach Ida’s front door. Right before I reached out to knock, it swung open.
“Ach, child,” Ida cried. “I would not have asked you to drive me to the meeting if I had known the weather would turn so awful.”
I stumbled inside, and Ida closed the door behind me. “It’s not really as bad as it looks,” I assured her. “There’s only a couple of inches on the ground. It’s the wind. It’s really picked up in the last thirty minutes.” I looked down to see the snow from my boots melting onto the homemade rug near Ida’s door. “I’m afraid I’m making a mess.”
“Do not worry,” the old woman huffed. “That rug is only made of old rags. You are worth much more to me than it is.”
As she reached for her long, heavy black cape, I said, “Are you sure you want to go out in this?”
“Ja,” she replied. “Usually I do not go to town meetings. They seem to be about things that do not concern me. But this time…” Her voice trailed off as she tied the cloak under her chin. She pulled the hood up and peered out at me. “I told you that I have a bad feeling about this new building project. Please understand that this is not about the people who will come. I am sure they will be an asset to our community. But there is something else. Something that disrupts my peace. I have learned over many years to listen when that happens. I want to hear this plan for myself. Perhaps my peace will return. I must find out.”
I nodded at her, but I truly believed the old woman’s attitude toward Harmony was the real cause of her disquiet. Many years ago, a man who held the position of bishop in the Mennonite Church had caused a lot of disruption in the town. Ida was one of the women who had prayed Harmony would never see that kind of confusion again. Ida believed strongly that Harmony existed as a special place of refuge from the rest of the world. Although I felt the same thing, to Ida it was more than a feeling. It was absolute reality. I was certain the new retirement village was no threat to the residents here, but obviously she had some concern that it might be. I could only hope that tonight’s meeting would quell her fears.
I held the door open for her, and we leaned into each other as we fought the wind. I got her into the car, and we headed toward town. The main streets were snowy but passable. The wind actually helped by pushing the snow into drifts on the side of the road. The real problem was blowing snow that made visibility very poor. I wondered if the weather might affect other citizens trying to make it to the meeting. By the time we pulled up to the building Eric had acquired, it was clear that Harmony residents were out in force.
I started to park on the other side of the street, but a man I didn’t know came running out of the building, pulling on his coat. He motioned at me to wait and jumped inside a truck parked near the front door. He backed out into the middle of Main Street and waved me into his parking place. After turning off my engine, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him pull into the spot where I’d started to park. I chuckled to myself at the thought of anyone in Wichita doing something like that. Battling over parking spaces, especially in the winter, seemed to bring out the killer instinct in people. Frankly, I’d rather walk a block in a blizzard than fight with someone over something so trivial. But today, with Ida in the car, the man’s kindness wasn’t trivial at all. It was a true act of kindness.
I told Ida to wait for me to come around and help her out, but by the time I reached her, the same man who had given up his parking space was already assisting her from the car and guiding her through the blustery wind toward the front door of the building. When we got inside, I caught him by the arm.
“Thank you so much,” I said, a little out of breath from fighting the wind. “That was so thoughtful.”
“You’re welcome. Usually I wouldn’t park so close to the door. I was already in town doing business and just got back to my truck.” I gauged him to be in his forties or fifties. Graying brown hair, dark green eyes, and an engaging smile. His warm and easy manner made me feel immediately comfortable in his presence.
I held out my hand. “I’m Gracie Temple.”
He took my hand and shook it firmly. “Temple. Any relation to Benjamin Temple?”
I nodded. “He was my uncle. He left me his house when he passed away.”
He let go of my hand. “I’m Bill Eberly. I own a farm between here and Sunrise. I knew your uncle. We were friends when we were younger. Unfortunately, we didn’t see much of each other for many years before he died. Ben kind of kept to himself.”
“Yes, he did.” I couldn’t tell if Bill knew the reason my uncle had been afraid to encourage close friendships or if he was just being nice. Whatever the truth, it would have to wait. Eric had taken his place behind a podium set up at the front of the room, and people were beginning to find their seats. I excused myself to Bill and escorted Ida to a row near the podium so she could hear. As I got closer, I was able to see Eric more clearly. His face was pale, almost devoid of color, and his usual friendly smile was missing. I waved at him, but he seemed to look right through me.
Ida tugged at my sleeve after we sat down. “Is this the man you are working with?”
I nodded.
“This man does not look happy. I wonder why.”
All I could do was shrug. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Rand was probably involved in some way. I felt sorry for Eric. Having to deal with Rand was a lot for anyone to handle, let alone someone as young and easygoing as Eric.
Slowly the noise and discussions ceased, and the crowd waited for the information they’d come for. I looked around the packed room. John Keystone was here, as were the Crandalls and the Scheidler brothers. I saw Ruth, who smiled at me from across the room. Joe Loudermilk from the hardware store was in deep conversation with Paul Bruner. Gabriel and Sarah Ketterling stood in the back against the wall. I waved at Sarah, who lifted her slender fingers in acknowledgment. I wanted to visit their store so I could see how things were coming along, but I guess it would have to wait until tomorrow. I couldn’t ask them to open up tonight, especially with the weather turning bad. I was really looking forward to renewing my lessons in wood-block printing. I gazed across the aisle and saw Abel. I nodded to him and he smiled at me. Emily hadn’t
come with him. I assumed she was at home taking care of the baby—unless they’d found the mother.
The door in the back of the room opened and closed. I glanced back to see Grant walk in. He’d mentioned coming to the meeting when I was in Wichita, but with the weather I’d figured he’d probably changed his mind. I tried to catch his eye but couldn’t. He stood against the back wall looking uncomfortable and out of place in his dark gray suit and long black coat.
Once again the door opened. A few people in the back groaned. The frigid wind cut through the room like an icy knife. It was Sam. For some reason, I turned my head away, afraid he’d see me. My reaction didn’t make any sense, but I couldn’t chase away the feeling that there was a barrier standing between us that had never been there before. It made me uncomfortable.
Eric pounded on the podium with a small gavel even though it wasn’t really necessary. All eyes were on him as the room fell deathly quiet. Just before he spoke, Sam slid into the seat next to me. He stared straight ahead toward the front of the room and didn’t acknowledge my presence.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Eric began. “I want to thank you for coming out today.” He stared down from his place behind the podium. A few people around us looked at each other. The atmosphere in the room, which had been charged with excitement when we first came in, was so quiet I could hear the people around me breathing. It was easy to see that Eric was under some kind of stress. A light buzz of whispered conversation began to build.
Eric cleared his throat and glanced around the room. Finally he opened his mouth. “I–I’m sorry to report that I don’t have good news for you.”
The noise in the room increased, and Eric banged the gavel again. “Please, if you could keep it down. I need to explain the situation. I’m still hopeful we can work something out.” The hum of voices stopped, but not before a man’s voice was heard clearly above the din.
“Told you we couldn’t trust no city slicker.”
Eric’s eyebrows knit together in a frown. “I’m afraid the problem isn’t with me. As many of you know, Rand McAllister promised to sell me his land for a fair price. Unfortunately, today he increased what he was asking to an amount I simply can’t agree to. I’ve spent the better part of a day trying to reason with him, but to no avail.” He glanced at his watch. “We were supposed to meet an hour ago to try to come to some kind of final understanding, but he didn’t show up. I don’t know where he is.”
“So there’s still hope you two might be able to work this out?” Mary’s voice cut through the crowd.
Eric shrugged, his face etched with apprehension. “Honestly, I don’t think so. Rand’s last offer was way above anything I could possibly match. The fact that he didn’t bother to show up to meet with me indicates he has no intention of being reasonable.”
A few irate shouts exploded from the gathered residents. Joe Loudermilk loudly called out, “Rand McAllister would sell his mother for a few bucks. He couldn’t care less about this town.”
A man in the front row stood up. I recognized my pastor, Marcus Jensen from Harmony Church. “I know several of you felt this venture would help to undergird your businesses, but it seems to me we were all doing okay before this proposal came along.” He turned and smiled at the crowd behind him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it would be great to welcome a few new people into our community. But do we really need to get this upset if it doesn’t pan out?”
Paul Bruner from the leather and feed store jumped to his feet. “Small towns are dyin’ all over the state, Pastor. Are we makin’ it? Yeah, I guess so. But some months we just barely get by.” He pointed his finger at Eric. “This man came here and started tellin’ us we could do better for our families and our town. I don’t want to move away from here just so my kids can have some of the things other kids have. But if that’s what I have to do, I may just pack us all up and go to Council Grove or Topeka.”
“I’m sorry, Paul,” Eric said. “I thought this deal was done. I guess I should have waited until all the papers were signed before I shot off my big mouth. But Rand seemed so set on this venture, it never occurred to me that he would back out.”
One by one, three other men shot to their feet. But a hush fell over the room as Ida slowly stood up. The sight of this elderly Mennonite woman clothed in black seemed to quiet even the most outspoken citizens. The men sat down, deferring to one of Harmony’s most respected residents.
“I am not used to talking to large groups,” she said, her voice strong but quaking with age. “However, I love this town, and I would like to ask permission to speak.” She turned and looked over the crowd. “Is there anyone here who would be offended if I addressed this assembly?”
No one voiced an objection. Several people offered their encouragement.
“Thank you.” She turned back to Eric. “Mister Beck, I have no reason to believe your plan was anything more than a good business proposition. One that many of our citizens felt would be a help to our town. I do not fault you for this.” She turned back toward the crowd behind her. I held on to her arm as she teetered a little. “That being said, I have had misgivings about this venture since I first heard word of it. You see, many of you were content with your lives until the idea of gaining more money and possessions was held in front of you. I realize that some of you may be experiencing hard times. But in my whole life, I have never seen anyone in Harmony go without assistance when they were in need. Neighbors have helped neighbors as long as I can remember. And the church has reached out whenever someone could not make it on their own. Perhaps we are not what the world would call wealthy in goods or in monetary treasures, but in truth we are very rich, ja?” She smiled. “There are not many towns that have what we have.” She looked at Eric. “Now this man comes and our town is in turmoil. There is division. Our sights are set not on what we have, but what we do not have.”
Once again she faced the crowd. The room was eerily quiet. “Harmony is an exceptional place. I implore all of you to remember what makes us this way. It is not money, and it is not possessions. It is a sense of community. It is the feeling of family. It is love. Above all, it is God’s blessing, ja?” She shook her head. “If this new development is built, then I will pray God’s blessings on it. If it is not, then I will pray God’s blessing on our town anyway. It is not this proposal I am afraid of. It is the darkness in our souls. The Good Book asks what good there will be if a man gains the world but loses his soul in the process. This is my fear. That Harmony’s soul is at risk.” She fastened her eyes on Eric. “That is all I have to say, Mr. Beck. I am sure you are a good man who truly believes he is doing what is best for our town. I disagree with respect, and I thank you for giving me time to speak.” She grasped my shoulder and slowly sat down.
There was silence for several seconds, and then someone in the back began to clap. Soon many in the room joined in. A glance around told me that not everyone agreed with Ida’s sentiments. Mason Schuler, who owned a local dairy farm, stood up.
“First of all, I want to say that I appreciate what Mrs. Turnbauer just said. There’s a lot of truth in it. But she can’t speak for all of us. I love Harmony as much as anyone else, but I have two teenagers who want to go to college. My desire to see more money come into this town has nothing to do with wanting to be rich or with buying a bunch of stuff. Bonnie and I honestly want to offer our kids the chance to make something more of their lives.”
A few other residents asked to be heard. Each one basically said the same thing—that Harmony needed the influx of money. That losing the retirement village would hurt the town and its citizens.
Eric listened patiently to each person but didn’t address their questions until the last person sat down. Then he stepped closer to the podium and stared out at the crowd. His first few words were so soft several people shouted for him to speak up. I was struck by the hurt on his face and couldn’t help but remember when I first met with him and Grant about the project. He was so excited about building
a place where people could spend their retirement away from the big city but were close enough to necessary services. Council Grove had a hospital and Sunrise had an emergency clinic. Although Sunrise was ten miles from downtown Harmony, from Rand’s place, it was only six. As Eric learned more about Harmony and began to realize that his development could also help the town, his enthusiasm only grew. Now he stood in front of the people he thought he would be helping without a clue whether he could deliver on the promises he’d made. I felt sorry for him, but I had to admit that I was a little concerned about my own future as well. If this project fell through, hopefully Grant would be able to send other work my way. I’d been counting on this job to see me through the winter. I had a little money saved up, but paying for electricity and heat in my uncle’s old house wouldn’t leave me with much to live on.
Eric stepped away from the podium and got closer to the crowd so they could hear him more clearly. He wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead and stared at me. I smiled in an attempt to encourage him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam watching me. It was my turn to ignore him.
“Look, I know some of you are disappointed that I don’t have better news tonight,” Eric said loudly. “You have my promise that I’ll try to keep this deal alive. I’ll find Rand and attempt to talk some sense into him. If there is any way to save the project, I’ll do it. We might as well dismiss now. After I speak to Rand, I’ll schedule another meeting.”
Mary spoke up again. “If Rand doesn’t want to sell his land, can’t you find another location to build this place of yours? There’s lots of acreage out here. I can’t believe there aren’t folks willing to sell for the right price.”
“That’s a good idea,” Eric acknowledged, “and we did talk to several landowners in the area. Rand was the only one who had what we needed and was willing to sell.”
