by B. J. Hoff
Rachel managed to bite down the retort that came to mind about Barbara’s desire to “protect” her. Afterward she had to ask forgiveness more than once for her resentful thoughts.
The sound of someone stepping onto the porch jarred her back to her surroundings.
Gideon, no doubt. He hadn’t shown up for supper, but Rachel was glad he was here now.
The big black dog came to the door of the kitchen and gave a low growl, glancing from Rachel to the back door, but made no move to come any further. Not for the first time, Rachel was struck by the animal’s unnerving look of intelligence. Its eyes held an almost human expression of keen insight. Not only that, but in spite of its great size and commanding appearance, it actually seemed to possess a spirit of gentleness. After Rachel opened the door to admit, not Gideon after all, but her best friend, Phoebe Esch, the dog waited only another second or two before returning to the bedroom.
Phoebe was a dear friend to both Rachel and her mother. At forty-five, she was closer in age to Mamma, but over the years she and Rachel had also become close friends and confidants. Especially after Eli’s death, Rachel had found herself drawn to Phoebe’s compassion and steadying faith—a faith that, to Rachel, seemed more personal, more practical than that of some of their other friends.
Unbeknown to some in the community, Phoebe and her husband, Malachi, shared a more intimate relationship with Christ than was common to the Plain People. They regularly studied the Scriptures on their own and prayed so warmly and openly to the Lord God that Rachel always felt as though He was right in the room with them.
As far as Rachel knew, she, Eli, and the Esceh’s sons were among the few who were aware of what undoubtedly would be frowned upon as a questionable, even forbidden, faith on the part of Phoebe and Malachi. In fact before Eli died, he had come to share their beliefs, with Rachel warming to them as well. Once she and Eli started studying the Scriptures with the Esches and she began to see for herself what was taught in the Holy Word about salvation being through faith in Christ—and not works as she’d been taught—she had begun to wonder and question on her own.
After Eli’s death, though, this part of her life seemed to stop. She still turned to the Bible, and she still prayed—but it wasn’t the same. For so long her heart had been a desert, a barren place that no longer sensed the warmth and peace of God’s love. She lived in fear and confusion, foundering on dread instead of pursuing devotion and a deeper experience of her faith.
But Phoebe, always sensitive to the slightest shifting or turning in another’s emotions, stood quietly by. She allowed Rachel to lean, to grieve, to question, all the while continuing to impart God’s love and a rare kind of unconditional friendship for which Rachel would be forever grateful. With unfaltering patience, this dear friend had helped bring Rachel back to the place where she could once again find her way to a closer walk with her Lord and accept His grace.
The sight of her now, standing in her kitchen with that good-natured smile and searching gaze, was a balm to Rachel’s frazzled nerves. “Oh, Phoebe, I am so glad to see you!”
Her friend moved to clasp her hands. “What’s happening here, then? So many tales I’ve heard.”
“What have you heard?”
“Some wild stories about a man dying in your house from a gunshot wound and a man of color standing guard over him.” She paused. “Did they really break into your home?”
“Oh, goodness no, they didn’t break in! I let them in because one was badly wounded and they obviously needed help.” She released her hands and motioned Phoebe to the table. “Come, sit. I have coffee and cake left from supper.”
But Phoebe shook her head, glancing around the room. “So where are they, these men?”
“In the bedroom.”
She thought her friend seemed unusually agitated. But then maybe she was simply reacting to Rachel’s own nervousness.
“Who are they? Where did they come from, do you know?”
“Not really. All I know is that the man who was shot is a riverboat man—a captain, his companion calls him. Asa—the other man—is a freed slave.”
Phoebe looked at her. “A freed slave?”
Rachel nodded. “Apparently he works for this—Captain Gant— on his boat. But the boat was burned, and the captain was shot. Dr. Sebastian says he’ll survive, though.”
“But what are they doing here?”
“I don’t know the whole story. But it seems there are people depending on them, people who need their help. Asa seems insistent on leaving as soon as he knows for certain that Captain Gant is going to be all right. He says he has to find these people as soon as possible.”
Phoebe’s pale blue eyes, always wide and lively, suddenly took on a look of uneasiness. “Did he say who these people are?”
Rachel shook her head. “Just that he has to find them. And I heard Captain Gant tell him he needs to go now, that he has to hurry.” She stopped. “But Asa hasn’t left yet. He’s still in there, in the bedroom with the captain.”
Phoebe had gone positively ashen. “Rachel, this is important. What did they say when they came to your door?”
“What did they say?”
“Yes, what exactly did they say?”
Rachel tried to remember. “It all happened so fast…we were in bed, Fannie and I. Gant—the wounded man—was losing consciousness and couldn’t talk. The other—Asa—said something about seeing the quilt on the line and the candle in the window. He said his captain was hurt, that they needed help.”
“What else?”
“Nothing—at least that I can remember—”
“Are you sure, Rachel?”
Puzzled by her friend’s intense questioning, Rachel tried her best to remember. “I think he said—though it didn’t make any sense—he said something about being ‘a friend of friends’.”
Phoebe blinked and glanced toward the doorway to the bedroom. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I need to talk to them, Rachel.”
“But—”
“I’ll explain. But first I must talk to these men. And, Rachel, you can’t tell anyone about this. Not anyone.”
“But what—”
Phoebe put a hand on Rachel’s arm. “Please promise me you won’t say a word! Not even to your mother. Susan might not understand— or approve.”
Rachel couldn’t imagine Phoebe keeping any kind of secret from Mamma. They were so close, had been like sisters for years.
“I could hardly say anything when I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Phoebe had already started for the bedroom. “Just—you wait here for now. I won’t be long.”
Rachel stared after her, her mind racing. Had Phoebe not been acting so strangely, she would have been tempted to follow her. But she hesitated, sensing that, at least for now, anything that could evoke that look of panic in her usually calm, steady-natured friend might be better left unexplored.
So she waited, a part of her fervently longing only for the return of her quiet, uneventful life, while another part of her felt strangely excited, even energized by this unexpected situation into which she’d been thrust.
The thrill that shot through her at the thought of this event—an event that had interrupted the peace of her days—was wrong. It was wrong to allow any form of interference from the outside world to appeal to her baser emotions. It was verboten. Forbidden.
Just as forbidden as the way the blood had rushed to her head when the wounded riverboat captain turned the force of his startling blue gaze on her for the first time.
As it turned out, Phoebe’s “secret” wouldn’t be kept from Rachel’s mother. By the time Phoebe returned to the kitchen, Mamma had arrived.
Standing just inside the door, she cast a puzzled frown in her friend’s direction as Phoebe came back into the room. “Phoebe? Was tun sie hier?”
Phoebe stopped short at the sight of Rachel’s mother.
“Phoebe?” Mamma said again.
Rachel
watched their friend struggle with the dilemma this presented. Phoebe couldn’t lie, of course. The Amish spoke only the truth, no matter the cost.
“So much fuss about the strangers, ja?” Phoebe didn’t quite look at either Rachel or her mother. “I wanted to see for myself and also make certain Rachel was all right.”
That much was true, Rachel knew.
Susan Kanagy studied her friend. “But I told you about the strangers at the wedding, not so? And I explained why Rachel wasn’t there.”
Clearly flustered, Phoebe looked from Mamma to Rachel and then at the floor. When she lifted her gaze, there was no missing the apprehension that looked out on them. “I hadn’t thought to tell a soul what I’m going to tell you. The less you know, the less likely it is to bring trouble to you. But I can see I can’t keep this to myself any longer, not from you. Susan…Rachel…please, sit down and I’ll explain.”
Rachel exchanged worried looks with her mother as they sat down across from each other at the kitchen table. Phoebe seemed to be taking her time, collecting her thoughts before she finally spoke.
“I’m so sorry for your trouble, Rachel. It seems that these men you’ve taken in…mistook your house for ours.” She stopped, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
“What do you mean? Our house is nothing like yours—”
Phoebe lifted a hand as if to indicate she would explain. “They were looking for a house with a candle burning in the window and a quilt on the line outside. They thought they’d found our place. You said you also had a candle in the window, Rachel, and a quilt—”
Rachel nodded. She leaned forward, intent now on hearing this story that was sounding more and more like a mystery. “But why would they be looking for your house?”
“Of all things to happen,” Phoebe said, shaking her head. “I can hardly believe such a mix-up. It makes me wonder if it isn’t God’s will, this mistake they made.”
“But who are they, these men?” Mamma pressed. “And as Rachel said, why would they be looking for your house? For that matter, why would they be looking for any house here among the Plain People?”
Again their friend indicated that they should wait while she went on. “This Captain Gant,” she said, “and the man, Asa, belong to a group of people who help runaway slaves make their way to safe settlements where they can live free.”
Rachel glanced at her mother, whose expression told her that Mamma was as bewildered as she.
“But what does that have to do with you? Or our people?” her mother said.
Phoebe pressed her lips together and met Mamma’s gaze straight on. “I’m a part of that group, Susan. So are Malachi and Reuben.”
Reuben was Phoebe’s only boy still living at home. Their other two sons were married with young families.
“What do you mean?” Mamma pressed. “What kind of a group is this—surely not Plain folk?”
“No.” Phoebe seemed to be considering how to explain. “There are people, not just here in Ohio, but in other states as well, who help to hide the runaway slaves until their guides can come and take them to the next safe place. It’s like a—a kind of railroad. Some even call it an ‘underground railroad.’ Houses like ours are ‘stations’ along the way. People like this Captain Gant and his friend, Asa, are ‘conductors’ on that railroad.”
She paused. “The people they came looking for—these people have been staying at our house, waiting for someone to take them on their way. They were waiting,” she said, glancing from Rachel to her mother, “for this Captain Gant and his man, Asa.”
7
EXTENDING GRACE
Inasmuch ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
MATTHEW 25:40
Rachel’s mind fumbled to take in Phoebe’s words. Mamma, however, seemed to grasp their significance in an instant. With her hands splayed so hard against the tabletop that her knuckles turned white, she leaned forward, staring at their friend.
“Phoebe, you know we’re not to traffic with auslanders. We’re to have nothing to do with outsiders and their world. This could get you in terrible trouble with the People. And with the Englisch law as well. You could be fined. You could go to jail!”
Incredibly, Phoebe gave a faint smile. “I daresay that’s true, ja.”
Mamma stared at her and then slumped back in her chair. “Why, then, would you do such a careless, foolish thing?”
Phoebe’s gaze remained steady. “It’s not a careless or foolish thing, dear friend. It’s a work of the Lord God.”
Mamma gasped and cautioned, “Careful what you say, Phoebe!”
“No man or woman was meant to be owned by another human being, Susan. No law can justify such a terrible thing. All God’s people are meant to live in freedom, no matter the color of their skin.” She paused. “I know you believe that too.”
Rachel’s mother spoke in a low tone. “What I believe is that you are doing a wrong thing, Phoebe. Against the law, is what it is. And against the Ordnung as well. You’re bringing the things of the world into our community. You could face the meidung for this! Does Malachi know?”
Phoebe looked at her friend with a strange softening of her expression. “Susan—dear friend—better I should be shunned than go against the Lord God’s will. And of course Malachi knows. I would never deceive my husband. We decided together that this is something our Lord would have us do.”
Was it fear that glinted in Mamma’s eyes now? “How do you know, Phoebe? How can you be so sure this is God’s will? How can something so dangerous—something that goes against the rules by which we live—be approved by God?”
“Oh, Susan! Do you have any idea what these poor slaves must endure? The beatings, the torture, the humiliation they suffer? Working inhuman hours under conditions that sometimes kill them? Children torn from the arms of their parents, wives sold away from their husbands, women used and savaged by tyrants who treat them like animals—”
She stopped, reaching to grasp Mamma’s hands in hers. “Think, Susan—think! The Plain People have undergone all manner of cruelty at the hands of others. Even now, here in America, we’re not altogether free of ill treatment. Yet it’s nothing compared to what the slave endures. What if it were us? Can you imagine what it would be like to live in such a way, to see our children live such a life? Can you?”
Rachel’s mother looked down at her friend’s hands clasping her own “I’m not saying it’s a right thing, that people—any people— should have to suffer so.” She raised her head to look at her friend. “But to live with secrets, Phoebe, secrets from our own people? That can’t be right either, sure. And how, pray tell, have you managed to keep such a secret from the People? Aren’t you frightened of being found out?”
When Phoebe finally spoke again, Rachel could almost hear the pain behind her words. Clearly this wasn’t the first time their friend had wrestled with the question of right and wrong in her actions.
“Of course I’m frightened. I’m always frightened. We know there’ s every likelihood that we might be discovered at any time. Truth is, this is only the third time we’ve ventured our help. But even at the risk of discovery, we believe we must do this. Besides, you know our land. We’re at the outer edge of the community and the woods nearby work to hide our house and the barn. Most everything is done at night, while our neighbors are asleep. So long as we stay very quiet…” She stopped and then went on, her voice low and not altogether steady. “Susan, this isn’t an easy thing for me. I pray every day that I’m doing the Lord God’s will. What I know is this: Many of these poor people will either die or live in torment if they’re returned to their owners. They have no hope of ever knowing what it is to be free from such evil unless those of us who are already free are willing to help them.”
She paused only a second or two. When she continued, her voice was stronger, her words firm. “I have to believe we’re doing God’s will, dear friend. But if you can’t in good conscie
nce keep our secret, I’ll understand. You do what you must do.”
Rachel could scarcely draw a breath as she watched her mother. Mamma seemed to be searching the very soul of her old friend.
Phoebe was the one to finally break the tension between them. She released Mamma’s hands with a gentle pat and stood, saying, “Captain Gant’s friend, Asa, and I must go now. He’s going to take the people who have been hiding at my house on their way.”
Rachel also stood, but it seemed to take Mamma forever to get to her feet.
Only when Phoebe came back from the bedroom and stood at the door with Asa and the large dark dog did Mamma finally speak again.
“Phoebe—”
The other turned. Rachel went very still, waiting.
“Your secret will travel no farther than this room.”
Phoebe smiled and closed her eyes for an instant and then opened them. “You’re a wonderful-gut friend, Susan.”
Mamma shook her head. “Just…be careful. Please. Be very careful.”
Clutching his cap in his hand, Asa looked from Rachel to her mother and dipped his head as if to apologize. “I wouldn’t leave Captain Gant like this if I didn’t have to. But he knows—we both know—that I must do this. I must help these people. It’s why we came here.”
“We’ll take care of him.” Surprised by her own words, Rachel stopped, looked at her mother and then pressed her lips together.
Mamma studied her long and hard before turning back to Asa and Phoebe. “Ja. He’ll be safe here with us.”
After they left, Rachel turned to her mother. “I’m sorry, Mamma.”
Her mother gave her a quizzical look. “Sorry for what, daughter?”
“For all this,” Rachel lifted her hands in a gesture of frustration. “For letting these strangers into my house, for drawing you into such trouble. For…everything.”
“Well, it’s done now,” her mother said in her practical, let’s-get-on-with-it tone of voice. “What’s left to us is to work things out, to take care of this man as best we can. And to take care, as well, that we don’t let slip our Phoebe’s secret.”
