by Sarah Price
Samuel sighed, wondering why he had bothered to come with David. During the nice spring nights, some of the younger folks liked to get together and spend time outside of the regular social gatherings such as the traditional Sunday singings that followed the church services every other week. It was harmless, that was true enough. While their parents might frown on the loud rock music or the youth being without any adult chaperones, everyone was respectful of each other and their rumschpringe; and that was boring to Samuel.
Some of the groups from other church districts were more exciting. The men would openly smoke cigarettes or even sneak in some beer. While Samuel wasn’t interested in the smoking or drinking, he was interested in the other thing that they snuck into their rumschpringe: Cars. He had even heard of some Amish youth that bought their own cars and hid them at the houses of non-baptized family members. Samuel was almost disappointed that all of his family members had been baptized. There would be no car sneaking in his family.
“What are you doing over here by yourself, Samuel? Come join the group,” David said, emerging from the shadows.
“Nah,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “Seems to be dying down, anyway. Think I might head home.”
David laughed. “Or over to see what those Miller Lane Mennonites are doing?” Quickly, he became somber and leaned closer to Samuel. “Seriously, brother, I hear those three boys are causing their own district quite the stress. Wonder that you are mixed up with them.”
Samuel cast a stern look at David but didn’t reply. For years, David and Samuel had run around together. They were often in trouble, whether from chasing girls with frogs or racing horses down the lane. His mother had often given her head one of her subtle, disapproving shakes as she frowned at their antics. But times were changing. Samuel knew that David was focusing more of his time and energy on conforming to the church ways. After all, he was planning on taking the kneeling vow in the fall. And Samuel wouldn’t be surprised if he made another announcement soon thereafter. Pretty Susie Esh was certainly anxious to see that happen, that was for sure and certain.
It bothered Samuel that, now that David wanted to settle down, he was becoming judgmental of the choices that Samuel was making. After all, it wasn’t anyone’s business, especially David’s, if Samuel wanted to spend time with the Mennonite fellows that lived on Miller Lane. Samuel hadn’t committed to taking the kneeling vow yet and didn’t intend on doing so for quite a few years to come. Until that time, Samuel knew that he could do what he wanted with his own free time. Just as he knew that he couldn’t stop his older brother from moving forward with his own life.
“You take the buggy then,” his brother conceded when Samuel didn’t respond. “I’ll have Mary Ruth’s brother drop me at home.”
Grateful that the lecture had ended, Samuel nodded his thanks and hurried over to the buggy. He didn’t like being told what to do and he certainly didn’t care for his brother, David, to interfere with his friendship. Jacob and Paul were good fellows, fun to be around and always eager to take Samuel with them in their car. Samuel smiled as he quickly pulled the light blanket off of the horse. Driving in cars was a whole lot faster and more fun than driving a horse and buggy, he thought as he folded the horse blanket before putting it onto the back seat of the buggy.
The evening had cooled down a bit since he had arrived at the gathering with David earlier in the evening. He was glad that he had brought his light jacket with him. He’d need it for, indeed, he intended to take a trot down to Miller Lane. He wanted to see if his friends were out on this fine early spring evening. After all, it was too early to go home.
The horse’s hooves made their soothing music on the macadam, hitting it with the solid two-beat rhythm of a brisk trot. He always liked taking the buggy out for night rides. The darkness made everything seem faster. Plus, there was a dangerous element to driving the buggy in the night. It always made his pulse quicken and his senses feel more alive. Now, if he could only get behind the wheel of a car…just once, he thought.
As he drove the buggy down Miller Lane, he saw two figures leaning against the side of a car. He pulled the buggy to a stop and slid the door open to lean out.
“Wie gehts?”
One of the young men looked up and smiled. “Hey Samuel! Thought we might be seeing you around tonight!”
Samuel held the reins in one hand and nodded to the other man. “What are you two fellows up to, Jacob?”
“Waiting for Peter Barlett. You meet him yet?”
Samuel shook his head. He had heard of the name but wasn’t familiar with it. He was fairly certain it wasn’t Amish or Mennonite. “Nee,” he replied.
Paul glanced over his shoulder, looking down the lane. “Friend of mine that I met last summer. A college boy.” The way Paul said that seemed impressive to Samuel. He had never hung out with someone who had gone to college. “We’re heading into Lancaster proper for a while. You want to come along?”
Samuel scratched at his cheek, thinking quickly. Lancaster meant a car ride and highways. He’d taken short rides with Jacob and his friends, usually to the racetrack on a Friday or Saturday night, but never into the city. He wanted nothing more than to join them but it was late already.
“Need to work early tomorrow,” he said, more to himself than to his friends.
“That’s the problem with farmers,” Jacob laughed. “Getting up when we’re going to bed!”
“No fun in that,” Paul said.
“Besides, tomorrow’s Saturday. You can sleep in the afternoon,” Jacob said.
Samuel held up the worn leather reins. “Got the horse here.”
Jacob waved his hand, dismissing Samuel’s excuse. “Park the buggy at Miller’s Store. That’s my cousin’s place. He won’t mind and no one will bother it, Sam. You know he leaves stalls open during the night because no one is there. ”
Samuel took a deep breath and hesitated. As long as he made it back in time to help milk the cows in the morning, no one would know what time he came home. And the horse would be fine at Miller’s. After all, he reasoned, this was his rumschpringe and exploring the world was its purpose. What harm could come from a night out with his friends?
“Alright,” he said reluctantly, as though he was still undecided. He had never gone out with Jacob and Paul at night and he just hoped they wouldn’t be back too late. “Let me tie her up and I’ll be right back.”
As he drove his mare down the dark lane, his buggy lights cast a slight glow in front of him. His heart pounded inside of his chest as he realized that he could still keep driving down the lane instead of leaving the horse at the small barn behind Miller’s Store. But that would mean facing the ridicule of his friends who would think he had been too scared to go into Lancaster for the night. And, of course, word would spread to his Amish friends who would certainly have their own comments.
After unhitching the mare from the buggy, he led her into the stall and made certain that there was a bucket of water and plenty of hay. No one would be the wiser if he cleaned up after the horse before escaping back to his parents’ farm. Samuel had often heard of other young men in their rumschpringe who left their horse and buggy at Miller’s Store.
Then, after patting the horse gently on her neck, Samuel turned toward the darkness outside the empty barn. The lane was dark and he could barely make out the lights of the car waiting where he had left Jacob and Paul. Peter must have arrived. He took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway, his feet heavy as he hurried down the dark lane and toward his friends.
Chapter Three
Sunday was a church day. The early morning air was cool but the sky was a rich blue, completely clear of any clouds. It was a beautiful spring day. A gentle breeze flowed over the fields toward the farm where the grey-topped buggies were pulling down the lane. There was a large paddock along the road with tall, green grass and trees that were just beginning to sprout green leaves from their red buds.
In the paddock, two horses grazed. One li
fted its head and watched as the line of buggies began to roll past the paddock. The horse started to run, its legs tall and gangly. Leaping and kicking out its back legs, the horse twisted in the air, its black mane flowing behind it. The other horse stopped grazing for a moment and watched as its youthful companion began racing along the paddock fence, leaping and twisting in pure delight of a beautiful spring day.
The horses pulling the buggies wore blinders and couldn’t see the antics of the young horse in the paddock. But they tensed up, sensing the excitement in the air from a fellow equine. The drivers of the buggies tightened their reins, speaking softly through the open window on the driver side of the buggy in order to calm down the horses.
Behind the paddock was a two-story house with a barn even further back. In front of the barn was a gravel parking area. It was in front of this building that the Amish men stopped their horses and, once they were in position, the doors would slide open to let the occupants emerge.
Slowly, the driveway began to get crowded. Men in black suits with white shirts and black vests quickly unharnessed their horses and led them inside to the stalls. There was fresh hay on the floor and everything had been swept to perfection. Some of the horses snapped at each other, trying to quickly establish dominancy with their new, temporary stall mates. Several of the Amish men took off their fresh, crisp straw hats with black bands and wiped the sweat from their brow as they finished the task of taking off their horses’ harness. The sun was over the horizon now and the cool days from earlier in the week had apparently disappeared.
While the men took care of the horses, the women carried their wicker baskets or boxes of food and disappeared through a doorway at the front of the barn. Inside the main door, there was a narrow flight of stairs to the second floor where the church service would take place on this day of worship.
Several women had small children in tow, each of the little girls dressed in the same color dress with white aprons covering the front. Smaller children wore a simple one piece apron that covered the front of their dresses and was pinned at the back of the neck while the older girls wore a white replica of their mother’s black apron with an upside-down triangular bib that covered the top of their dresses and was pinned at the waist and shoulders.
At the top of the stairs, Mary Ruth glanced around and smiled at the older women who were already forming a haphazard line in the kitchen room. She took a deep breath before she followed her sister and walked toward the line, pausing to shake the hand of each woman in the line and lean down to give her a soft kiss. It was the ritual for each church Sunday, to humble oneself and ponder upon the importance of extended community. Some of the older women held her hand longer than others while some of the younger women barely touched her hand at all. She always knew which women would brush past her. It was something Mary Ruth was too familiar with but it always made her smile.
After she had greeted all of the women, she stood at the end of the line beside her sister. Now, they would be the ones greeting any newcomers to the service. The process always seemed to take a long time, especially as younger women with children began to arrive. The little ones would slow their mamm down and there was more of a lapse between greetings.
While she waited, Mary Ruth glanced over her shoulder at the large, open room behind her. There were three windows on each of the walls in addition to the large open doorway where she stood. The room was divided into two sections. She knew that one was for the men who would sit facing the other section, the one reserved for the women. The backless church benches were lined up in perfectly neat rows. Separating those two sections were two rows of cushioned folding chairs that faced each other. The bishop, ministers, and deacons would sit in those folding chairs, facing each other with the rest of the congregation seating behind them.
On each bench was a worn, thick copy of the Ausbund. Those copies had been in their gmay since the 1950s, cherished by generations of Amish. Mary Ruth loved the feel of the books when she held them in her hands. It was almost as if she could feel the love from the years long past. And she could certainly hear the voices of those people, ancestors of her family and her neighbors, as they lifted together to sing the many beautiful songs within those books.
Mary Ruth leaned against the doorframe, smiling at the women who entered the kitchen. It was taking longer for the newcomers to make their rounds to greet everyone, especially since most of them had four or five little children crowded around their legs. She loved to see the little ones, especially the little girls.
On church Sunday, their little black shoes shone from having been polished to perfection. Most mothers dressed their daughters in the same color dresses, something which helped to identify which children belonged to which mother. Some of the youngest ones had tiny little braids on their foreheads to help keep their growing hair out of their eyes and under their prayer kapps.
Mary Ruth watched the children as she stood next to her older sister, Leah. They were just two years apart in age and as close as sisters could get. Since they shared a room together and split all of the kitchen chores, they were rarely apart, despite Leah being twenty and eager to take her kneeling vow in the fall.
“Look at him!” Leah whispered, interrupting Mary Ruth’s thoughts. Her older sister had narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as she glared over Mary Ruth’s shoulder.
“Who?” Mary Ruth glanced in the direction where her sister was staring. She saw nothing or no one that was out of the ordinary. “Look at who?”
“That Samuel Lapp,” Leah hissed under her breath. Her displeasure was more than apparent.
Mary Ruth looked again, scanning the men that were still downstairs. Her eyes fell upon Samuel. He was at the bottom of the stairs, standing apart from his regular group of friends. He leaned against the wall, waiting for the men to climb the stairs to join the women in the worship room. Mary Ruth still saw nothing unusual. Samuel wasn’t doing much of anything and certainly nothing to call attention to himself. Confused about what her sister meant, Mary Ruth turned back toward Leah and asked, “What about Samuel?”
There was no mistaking the disapproving look on Leah’s face. It was as though a dark cloud had passed overhead, casting shadows upon her. Leah tilted her head forward and lowered her voice so that no one could overhear her next words. “He’s falling away from the Lord and taking his rumschpringe much too seriously.” She paused, more for dramatic effect than any other reason. “I heard that he was running with those three car-driving Miller Lane Mennonites over the weekend.”
This statement caused Mary Ruth to laugh softly. “You heard that? Shows you what good your ears are!” She smiled and whispered, “He wasn’t with those Miller Lane boys. He was at the social gathering on Friday night. Not only did I see him with my own two eyes, I spoke to him!”
Leah arched an eyebrow. “Really? Then I suspect that you, too, arrived home at morning milking time on Saturday? I’m sure Mamm and Daed were none too happy with you, too!” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Morning milking? Mary Ruth had spoken to him at nine o’clock. By ten, he was gone and she had left for home shortly thereafter. Was it possible that Samuel had left the group and not returned to his farm? Could he have continued his journey and run off with the Miller Lane Mennonites? “He was out until morning milking? How would you know such a thing? You shouldn’t spread such gossip,” Mary Ruth said disapprovingly.
“You know that our brother Simon works at the carpentry shop with him, Mary Ruth. Where else would I hear such a thing? His older brother, Jonas Junior, was terribly upset with Samuel because he was tired and lazy all day. And Simon overheard that his daed was furious with him. He came home while the rest were doing morning chores.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mary Ruth whispered.
Leah nodded. “Ja! And he left his horse at Miller’s Store all night. Eli Miller was right upset because Samuel didn’t clean up after the horse nor did he replace the hay that Eli had left there for his own horse.�
��
“Leah!” Mary Ruth gasped. “That’s simply cannot be true!”
“Simon said there was quite a row at the Lapp farm about Samuel’s misbehavior,” Leah said with conviction. “Seems he’s conforming more to the world these days than he is toward Christ.”
Mary Ruth looked back at Samuel. He was leaning against the wall, his hands thrust into his pants’ pockets and his hat was tipped forward, casting a shadow on his face. She couldn’t be certain but she thought he might be sleeping, even though he was standing up. No wonder, she thought. He was probably exhausted from being out late on Friday and working all day on Saturday. “I don’t believe you,” she repeated softly, even though she wasn’t certain that was true.
Leah pursed her lips and frowned, staring at her younger sister with a concerned look on her face. “I’d hang my bonnet on someone else’s peg before I fell sweet on that one, Mary Ruth.” She lowered her voice. “He’s hopeless, if you ask me!”
Before Mary Ruth could respond, a silence fell over the gathering and the energy in the room started to dissipate. Socializing time was clearly over as the ministers began to emerge from the stairwell and make their rounds in the greeting line. When they finished shaking the hands of the women, they single-filed to the chairs in the middle of the room, silently announcing that service was to begin.
