Anna's Healing

by Vannetta Chapman

  There wasn’t much she could do other than jumping out of the moving vehicle. Because it was going sixty miles an hour, she didn’t think that was a good idea. Better to wait for a more opportune chance to escape. So instead she spent her time praying. She prayed for her parents. She’d caused them so much worry in the last year! She prayed for Samuel and Erin. She even prayed for the men who had met with her and her family after church. Her mind kept going back to that meeting, like a tongue seeking out a sore tooth.

  They weren’t bad men—though Luke Hershberger and Daniel Stutzman did seem bitter. Both had suffered hardships. Both of their families had endured what must have seemed unendurable. Luke and Sally had lost their baby girl, and Daniel and Margaret Stutzman were dealing with their son’s injury. Did they all wonder why she’d been healed but not their loved ones? If so, she didn’t blame them. She didn’t understand it either. Why had she been chosen? Why had she been healed?

  She prayed that God would soften their hearts. And then she found herself praying for the man beside her. Why had he taken her? And where were they going?

  As if in answer, he took the next exit off the interstate. She tried to catch the words on the road sign, but they were past it before she could make out more than one or two letters.

  She remembered crossing the state line into Texas nearly twenty minutes ago. She’d thought about visiting the state to their south, especially when Jacob talked about his travels. But there weren’t any Plain communities to speak of in Texas—only Mennonite groups and a very small Amish group in the southern part of the state. She didn’t think this man was taking her to either of those places.

  Why would he take her to Texas? Why would he take her anywhere?

  As they pulled up to a four-way stop, the sign said Paris and pointed to the right. They went left. Soon she saw a sign that said, Welcome to Blossom, population 1,439. She didn’t see much evidence of a real town. Perhaps he was staying off the main roads.

  He turned right, then left again, and finally slowed and pulled into a trailer park. It didn’t look like the mobile homes they had in Cody’s Creek. This looked more like a place for motor homes that Englischers took on vacation. But these motor homes looked as if people were living in them permanently. There were porches built around front doors, a few attempts at planting scraggly rows of flowers, even an occasional handicap ramp. There were streetlights spaced every third trailer, and all of them had picnic tables and hoses stretching from the trailer to a water spout.

  Her kidnapper pulled into a small yard surrounded by a waist-high fence. It, too, had a handicap ramp to the left of the porch steps. Parked next to the trailer was a longish white car. It looked as if it had seen better days. The paint was faded in places, and it sat low to the ground, as if it needed maintenance work.

  The man turned off the truck and just sat there, rubbing his hands over his face. Finally he turned to look at her. “Don’t do anything stupid. We’ve come too far for that.”

  Anna nodded, but she wasn’t sure she agreed with him on what would be considered stupid. If she had a chance to run for it, she would.

  He didn’t give her that chance. Instead, he scooted across the bench seat, grasping her by the arm and pushing her out her door. He didn’t let go of her arm until they had walked up the three steps of the porch and into the home.

  The first thing Anna noticed was the stale smell of cigarettes. Under that odor she noticed several things that brought back the early days after her accident—the scent of antiseptic and the soft beeping of a machine in the background. The home was permeated with the sour smell of death, at least that was the odor in Anna’s mind. Someone had made a feeble attempt to cover it up with a citrus air freshener.

  She’d barely stepped inside, the man close behind her, when a small dog hurled itself across the living room, barking madly. “Shush, Peanut. Shush now. You’ll wake up Momma.”

  Peanut now threw herself against the man’s legs. He reached down, picked her up, and tucked her under his arm. With his other hand, he guided Anna to a small kitchen at the end of the trailer and motioned for her to take a seat at the table.

  A large woman walked into the room, rubbing her eyes and wearing a housedress similar to one Anna had seen advertised at their local thrift store as a muumuu. The fabric displayed large flowers in a variety of colors. She blinked several times at Anna, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  “Who is this?”

  “You know who it is.”

  “Spencer, what have you—” She sat down across from Anna. “Why would you—”

  “Stop asking me things you know the answer to, Peggy. I don’t need you questioning my decisions.”

  “Decisions? You call this a decision? It’s crazy. You’re crazy.” Her hands came up and she waved them back and forth. “Kidnapping? You think you had problems before? Add a kidnapping charge, and… you crossed the state line with her?”

  Peggy sank back against the chair, causing it to groan beneath her weight. “That makes it a federal offense. What were you thinking?”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Spencer poured a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker, downed it, and then grimaced.

  Anna could smell the coffee from where she sat. It must have been stewing in the pot for several hours.

  “Watch her for me.”

  He made it to the doorway before he turned back toward them, avoiding Anna’s eyes and instead staring at Peggy. He was still holding the dog, who had quieted down and now looked up at him with complete adoration. “How is she?”

  “Same.”

  “Is she sleeping?”

  Peggy waved away the question and then clarified. “With the pain meds they have her on, she doesn’t actually sleep. Mostly she fades in and out.”

  Spencer looked at Anna for a moment, directly at her, and she finally understood what was happening. She understood why he’d brought her to his home and how desperate he was.

  The question was, how would Spencer react when she couldn’t do what he wanted? She didn’t have an answer for that, but the despair in his eyes told her that this evening probably wouldn’t have a happy ending.

  CHAPTER 59

  Jacob sat on the back porch steps next to Chloe. They had been there for a good ten or fifteen minutes. He appreciated that she didn’t talk. She didn’t try to assure him that everything would be fine. Instead, she sat by him and allowed the quietness of the night to envelop them.

  He heard the crickets, frogs, and even the occasional low of a cow. He heard those things, but his mind was not on them. His mind and heart were on Anna.

  “I thought the day she was hurt, the day of the tornado, was the worst day of my life. I thought it couldn’t get any worse.” He shook his head at his naïveté. “I never even imagined something like this could happen.”

  “The police are working hard to find her, Jacob. I think deciding to release a statement was the right thing to do. Maybe someone out on the road saw something.”

  He didn’t answer. His mind had drifted to Sunday afternoon, when he’d walked with Anna to see Levi’s horse. He thought back over the conversation. He’d teased her about spoiling the horse. She’d worried over the afternoon meeting, and he’d talked to her about carnival rides. Carnival rides! What was he thinking?

  “You’re awfully quiet over there, Jacob, even for an Amish man.”

  Instead of answering her, he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands.

  “Hey! Don’t give up on Anna. She’s tough, you know. Not to mention that I don’t think God healed her only to have her—” She stopped, apparently unwilling to voice their worst fears. “She’s going to be fine.”

  “It’s not that.”

  Chloe waited, and he finally sat up straighter, still shaking his head.

  “I had the perfect chance yesterday. I could have asked her to marry me then. If I had, we would have walked home together—”

  “If she’d said yes. If she’
d said no, she probably would have still walked home alone. You’re not to blame for what happened, and you can’t know what would or wouldn’t have changed it.”

  “You think she would have said no?” New fears flooded his mind and heart.

  “Relax.” Chloe stretched, patted him on the back, and stood. “I don’t know how she would have responded. I don’t know that she’s ready for another big change in her life. I’m not sure. Maybe. You probably know her better than I do.”

  “What if I don’t get another chance? What if we missed our one opportunity to be together?”

  “Jacob.” Chloe was standing below the steps now and he remained seated, so they were roughly the same height. She reached forward and put her hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “She’s missing. That’s all. Give her a little credit. Because she’s Amish doesn’t mean she won’t find a way to escape. If someone did nab her, and I’m not saying that happened, it’s possible they may have grabbed more than they bargained for. The Anna I know won’t sit back. She’ll have a plan. She’ll find a way back to us.”

  An image popped into Jacob’s mind—of Anna attacking the garden plants with a vengeance when she’d had a bad day. “The girl has a temper, that’s for sure and for certain.”

  “A temper can be a good thing,” Chloe said brightly. “It might serve her well tonight.”

  The weight on Jacob’s heart, the weight of his love for Anna, lifted. He had been thinking of her in the past tense, which was ridiculous. His fear had been driving that train of thought. He nodded and even managed a small smile.

  “So you’ve seen her temper, have you?”

  Jacob stood and they walked toward the back door. When he turned to answer her, he saw the stars blazing in the evening sky. He saw them and he remembered the verses Mammi had read to them the week before, when Anna was still sick. Verses about considering the heavens, the work of God’s hands, the moon and stars. He couldn’t recall the exact phrases from the Psalms, but the thought was something about God being mindful of man and the wonder that He cared for them.

  “Hello? Jacob? Did I lose you for a minute?”

  He smiled at Chloe and nodded.

  “I was asking you about Anna’s temper.”

  He glanced at the stars again, and though he was still worried, he allowed the assurance of God’s care to permeate his heart and mind.

  “Ya, quite the temper.”

  “Give me an example.” Chloe cocked her head. Maybe she was genuinely interested, or maybe she was trying to distract him.

  “You know, one of the reasons I love her is because of that temper. Many Amish women—or women in general—seem to hide their hurts and fears.” He straightened a suspender that had become twisted. “My mamm always did. She’d become silent and no one would know what they had done wrong.”

  “That can be tough.”

  “Ya. But Anna isn’t like that. If she’s mad, she doesn’t mind telling you why. While she was recovering, when she still couldn’t walk, she’d have bad days—times when she struggled against what her life had become.”

  “I know she did.”

  Jacob’s smile grew. “But she didn’t mind hollering at the plants in her garden, or attacking the weeds with a spade as if she could right the world’s wrongs. She was always honest. You know? About how she felt or what was going on. You don’t have to guess around her.”

  Chloe nodded. “I know what you mean. One time we—” Her phone chirped, and she pawed through her purse until she found it. “Hello?”

  Jacob watched her expression closely, which went from polite to curious to excited. “Hang on, Justin. Let me get Lacretia. You need to tell her exactly what you told me.”

  They both hurried into the house and found Lacretia on the front porch.

  “It’s a reporter from a Tulsa television station. His name is Justin,” Chloe said to her, holding out the phone.

  “I don’t have time—”

  “Someone saw a truck driving down the adjacent road where it connects to the back of Samuel’s property. It pulled to a stop off the pavement, kind of in the trees. They didn’t think much of it at the time, but they noticed it had a Texas license plate.”

  CHAPTER 60

  Anna stared at the woman across from her. Her first impression had been correct. She was quite large. But now that they sat across from each other, Anna noticed that she had a beautiful face framed by black curls streaked with gray. Her eyes, though, spoke of a sadness Anna could understand.

  “I’m Peggy, Spencer’s sister.” She studied Anna a moment and finally admitted, “I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that. But I don’t see how this can get any worse. You don’t have a cell phone on you, do you? Because I don’t think you should call anyone yet. Do you have a cell phone?”

  Anna shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so. I read about you people. I know that most of you don’t abide cell phones. Can’t afford one myself, but I use Spencer’s sometimes.” Peggy nodded toward what looked like a closet on the far side of the kitchen door. “Did he even stop so you could use the bathroom?”

  “Nein.”

  “There’s one through that door. Go on and use it.”

  Anna didn’t have to be told twice. She was surprised to find that the bathroom was rather modern. In fact, the entire motor home seemed rather new, though awfully small. She finished in the bathroom, pausing only to splash water on her face, wash her hands, and say yet another prayer for deliverance. The only window was the size of a shoebox. There was no way she’d fit through that, so for the moment escape seemed impossible. She could possibly run past Peggy, but Spencer would hear a ruckus and catch her. He knew the area. It was better if she waited for a clear chance.

  She walked slowly back to the kitchen, which was only a dozen steps away.

  Peggy had placed a bottle of water and assorted cereals on the table along with a half gallon of milk. “Did you eat?”

  “I didn’t, not since our luncheon.”

  “Better do so now then. You’ve a long ride back ahead of you. I still can’t believe he would be stupid enough to—”

  “I’m going back?”

  “Well, honey, we can’t keep you here. Have you seen how small this place is? I have to step outside to change my mind.” She pushed a bowl and spoon toward Anna. “Sorry, but we don’t keep a lot of food on hand. This will at least give you something in your stomach, though Spencer doesn’t choose the healthiest kind of cereal. He’s still a little kid as far as that is concerned.”

  Anna stared at the boxes—something with a rabbit on the front, another with a leprechaun, and one with cinnamon toasted oats. She chose the last and filled her bowl, adding milk, and diving into the food. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

  Peggy poured herself a cup of the coffee and held up another cup to Anna, but she said, “No, thank you.” The last thing she needed on her stomach was day-old coffee.

  Peggy glanced down the hall, and then she sat down across from her again. “What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t even know why he brought you here?”

  Anna scooped up another spoonful of cereal, but paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Someone’s sick?”

  “His wife, Karen. She’s been a good friend to me these many years.” Peggy stared out the small window beside the table, as if she were seeking answers from the darkness. “She has cancer. Not much time left now. Maybe a week.”

  Anna set down her spoon and placed her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

  Peggy nodded. “Thank you. And keep eating. The living need to eat.”

  “He thinks I can heal her?”

  “He isn’t thinking. That’s the problem. But he probably hopes you can. That man’s mind shut off when he found out she had cancer and couldn’t beat it.”

  “I doubt I can help her. I don’t even understand what happened to me, not completely.”

  “It’s true, t
hough? You were handicapped?”

  “Ya. I was driving a wagon, pulling our harvester when the tornado hit.”

  “And you couldn’t walk?”

  “Spinal break. I couldn’t use my legs at all.”

  “But you woke up nearly a year later, and you could walk?”

  Anna nodded.

  “I heard your story. It’s all over the local news. Some are saying it’s a miracle, and others are claiming it was all a hoax. Spencer is banking on it being the real deal.”

  Anna didn’t know what to say to that, so she resumed eating.

  “It’s been too much, is all. Too much for him to handle.” She ran her fingers through her curls. They straightened before bouncing back into place. “They’ve been replaying the story of when that tornado hit on the news because of your miracle. That same week of your tornado, Spencer bought this motor home. He’d finally retired from his job.”

  “What did he do for a living?”

  “Maintenance man for the school district in Paris. He was good at it too. Nothing to be ashamed of doing maintenance work. He always showed up, always on time and willing to do what needed to be done. I went to his retirement party, and even the superintendent was bragging on old Spence, saying what a dependable person he was.”

  Anna realized she didn’t want to eat any more. She pushed the bowl away and focused her attention on the middle-aged woman across from her.

  Peggy, for her part, seemed to be talking to herself as much as she was to Anna. “I wish you could have seen him then. He had all these brochures—different kinds of motor homes, different states they were going to visit. Karen, she was tickled pink. That’s the way it’s always been with her. Spencer’s dreams became her dreams, and who could blame him for wanting to get out of Texas after forty years of cleaning up other folk’s messes?”

  “So they bought this trailer?”

  “Sold their home, went down to the factory, and paid cash for it. They made it all the way to Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. You know, the place where the presidents’ heads are carved into the mountainside? I’ve heard it’s quite a sight.”