A Quilt for Jenna (14 page)

R
EUBEN TOOK TO THAT FIRST BEER
like a duck to water. Within an hour—and after three Pabst Blue Ribbons—Bobby knew all about Jerusha, how beautiful she was, how much she and Reuben loved each other, and the enormous obstacles in their way.

Bobby listened, asking a few questions and occasionally offering a comment. Bobby did have some experience with the matter at hand, but he didn't want to come off like a know-it-all. Bobby had married early—at seventeen—but it hadn't worked out. His wife had wanted Bobby to take her to the big city. When Bobby wouldn't, she found someone who would, and that was that.

The experience made Bobby a good listener. The beer loosened Reuben's tongue, and soon Bobby felt as if he'd known Reuben for a long time. He had a lot more facets to his personality than most of the Amish he'd met. He was smart and funny, but he could be serious and philosophical too, and after a short while Bobby decided that he liked Reuben a lot. As the evening wore on, Reuben told Bobby about his last meeting with Jerusha and how she had refused to go with him to Colorado.

“You've got a job out there,” Bobby said. “Why don't you go alone?”

“I can't leave her,” said Reuben, hanging his head. “She's got such a hold on me, but she won't marry me unless I get baptized and become a member of the church, and I just can't. It would be hypocritical. There are too many rules that have no basis in reality. I want to get out and see the world and just get on with my life, but I'm afraid she'll get married to someone else, so I can't leave. I'm really stuck. What should I do?”

“Well, I'd say you're between a rock and a hard place, my friend,” Bobby answered as he took another long sip of his beer. “And the truth is, I didn't do such a bang-up job with my marriage, so I'm not exactly the person you should ask for advice.”

They continued talking until Jimmy leaned over the bar and hollered, “Last call!”

“You got a place to stay?” Bobby asked.

“I have some friends here in Wooster,” Reuben said, “but they're visiting in Akron. So I was just going to sleep in my truck until they get back.”

“It's a little cold for that,” Bobby said. “Why don't you come over to my place? I have a Murphy bed in the front room of my apartment. It's pretty comfortable.”

And that was the beginning of our friendship. You came over and stayed, and I needed a roommate, so you moved in. I got you a job at the construction company, and that was how it started...

It was an interesting friendship because the two men were almost exact opposites. Bobby was friendly and outgoing, and he enjoyed social gatherings. He had never been much for studies, but he had a lot of useful knowledge about life. People could come to Bobby with their personal or practical problems and find a sympathetic ear or a helping hand. Reuben, on the other hand, was quiet and liked to keep to himself. He had a quick mind and was a voracious reader who remembered almost everything he read. He read both classic and contemporary writers and could hold his own in a conversation about Shakespeare or Hemingway. He knew about Rembrandt and Picasso and had a deep love for both Beethoven and Billie Holiday.

Once Bobby asked Reuben about his almost encyclopedic knowledge of the arts.

“I thought you guys weren't allowed to read all this stuff or look at art.”

“When I was a kid I had an
Englisch
friend my folks didn't know about. His name was Sammy. He was Jewish and what you might call an intellectual. We had a drop-off place in the woods behind my house where he would leave library books. I read everything from
Hamlet
to
The Maltese Falcon
by the time I was eighteen. He taught me a lot about the things of the world—history, music, and other religions, especially his. Kind of odd, don't you think? A Jewish whiz kid and an Amish misfit becoming best friends. I think hanging around with Sammy had a lot to do with my dissatisfaction with the Amish way.”

“What about the music?” asked Bobby.

“Sammy was into music,” said Reuben. “He had the most amazing collection of records—everything from Enrico Caruso to Gene Autry. When I could sneak away, we'd go into his room and listen to record after record. He'd fill me in on the composer, the artist, and the period when the music was written. He also taught me to box. That's where I learned to fight. When he was little, other kids always gave him a hard time for being Jewish, so he took boxing lessons and shut a few bullies up, and after that nobody bothered him. Sammy was a tough customer, and he gave me a real education in the art of self-defense.”

Bobby learned a lot in their discussions, but so did Reuben. Reuben helped Bobby to expand his horizons in art and literature, and Bobby taught Reuben how to fix the carburetor in his Ford pickup and how to get along with people. The two men were compatible, so Bobby didn't mind Reuben living in his apartment. Reuben was neat and kept his clothes and personal stuff in order. They only had one argument in the whole time they roomed together, and that was over the Amish position on serving in the army. They were sitting in the kitchen discussing the Japanese occupation of French Indochina and the oil embargo the United States had placed on Japan's military.

“Reuben, I'm not much for world politics, but I know people,” he said, “and I can tell you that the Japanese aren't going to stand still for this boycott.”

“What do you think they'll do?” Reuben asked.

Bobby pulled a pack of Camels out of his shirt pocket and rapped them on the tabletop to pack them down. He tore open the pack, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.

“If it were me,” said Bobby, “I'd find another source of oil and take it over. The Japanese army is already in Indochina. They're well trained and battle hardened because they've been fighting in China since 1939. It's just a short boat ride over to the Dutch East Indies. The only thing that can keep them out of those oil fields is American intervention.”

“But Roosevelt is trying to solve this diplomatically,” Reuben said.

“That's what they say,” Bobby replied, “but it didn't help the Japanese bargaining position to join up with Hitler and Mussolini. The Japanese are going to have to do something to neutralize America. They will have to get us out of the way, which means you can expect them to do something nasty, real soon.”

“You think it'll come to war?” Reuben asked.

“Don't see how we can stay out of it.” There was a pause in the conversation while Bobby blew out a long stream of smoke. Then he asked the question that had been unspoken but very present. “If we have to go to war, what will you do?”

“War is wrong, and it's against the Bible,” Reuben replied.

“You didn't answer my question,” Bobby said as he tapped the ash off his smoke and looked intently at Reuben. “So I'll ask it again. If war comes...”

“I heard the question,” Reuben said, as a red flush rose in his face.

“Well, what's the answer?”

Reuben glared at Bobby. It was as though he was feeling his way through the answer in his mind, sorting out his thoughts on the matter for the first time. Finally he spoke.

“War is something the Amish detest. Violence against other human beings strikes at the very core of Amish beliefs. Our stand on violence was forged in the crucible of torture, persecution, hideous pain, and horrible death. Those who lived through it came out determined to reject every facet of war, down to the tiniest detail. That determination affects everything we do and say, how we relate to each other and to the
Englisch
, and even the way we dress and our appearance.”

Bobby was silent, and Reuben continued. “Have you ever wondered why the Amish wear beards but not mustaches?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have,” Bobby said.

“We consider mustaches to be a sign of violent masculinity, something warriors and conquerors would wear. Jesus said we are to love our neighbor as ourselves, so it's wrong to attack weak or defenseless people,” said Reuben. “We should be kind and forgiving.”

“Yes, but do you really believe all that stuff, Reuben?” Bobby asked. “Be honest.”

Reuben paused. “Well...I believe some of it,” he said slowly.

“The way you talk, it seems to me you're really not so sure about it.”

Reuben flushed and looked down at the floor.

“Here's what I'm getting at, if you don't mind me being blunt,” Bobby went on. “The Amish live in a free country because American men have died in its defense. For a group of people to take advantage of this freedom and yet refuse to take any responsibility for it seems wrong to me—and to a lot of other people.”

“That's not exactly what it's about,” Reuben said.

“What
is
it about then, Reuben?” Bobby asked. “The Amish have looked down on the
Englisch
for years. They let us know in no uncertain terms that because we don't follow their way of life, somehow that makes us lesser people. And yet you can watch American boys go off to war to fight and die in defense of the freedom that allows you to live the way you do and practice your faith the way you do. If America hadn't invited you folks to come here back in the 1700s, there would be precious few of you left in Europe. In spite of what this nation has done for your people, you have the nerve to tell us we're wrong to live the way we do. A lot of good men and women died to preserve the freedom that allows you to feel and act the way you do toward anyone who isn't like you, and yet you won't lift a finger to defend that freedom.”

“Don't keep saying ‘you' to me,” Reuben snapped. “I'm not Amish anymore, remember? I'm currently
persona non grata
.”

“Well then, my friend,” said Bobby, looking Reuben straight in the eye, “since you can't hide behind the religion anymore, I'll ask you one more time. What are you going to do if America goes to war?”

“The Constitution says the Amish don't have to fight if they sincerely object to killing other men,” Reuben said, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Reuben, wake up for Pete's sake! The Constitution won't be worth the paper it's written on if Hitler or Tojo have their way in this world. The Amish will be the first to go if we lose a war and some dictator comes in here and wants everyone to join his jackbooted thug army. The Constitution won't save the Amish then. Only the blood of the men who fight and die will save them.”

“The Amish won't fight,” said Reuben.

“Well, if they won't fight, I suppose that's their right, but I'm not asking
them
, I'm asking you,” Bobby said as he lit another Camel. “Since they won't fight, maybe the Amish should stop condemning the
Englisch
to hell since the English are good enough to fight in their defense. In the meantime, if you're really out of the club, what are you going to do if war comes?”

“I don't know,” Reuben said. “All my life I've been taught that violence is wrong and that no matter what happens, we're not to lift a hand in wrath or anger. My family has a book full of the stories of martyrs who stood by as Catholic or Protestant soldiers killed their wives and children. They take it as a point of pride. Well, I don't take pride in it. If someone hurt Jerusha, I would kill that person. And I wouldn't make it an easy death. He would suffer before he died. It doesn't make me proud to say that, but I do know that some things are so precious they are worth killing or dying for. For me, that would be Jerusha. As far as what you're asking me, I just don't know what I'd do.”

Bobby knew when to quit. His question had bothered Reuben more than he had expected. He took another puff on his Camel and smiled. “Let's drop it. What'll we do for dinner?”

Reuben looked at Bobby with an expression mingled with shame, hurt, and anger. “You don't have to patronize me, Bobby,” said Reuben quietly. “I get the point. You think the Amish are cowards, and I think most of them are sincere believers in the way Jesus taught His disciples to live. As for me, you're right. What I'll do if America goes to war will be something I work out for myself, without hiding behind my Amish upbringing.”

Well Reuben, you sure didn't have much time to make that decision, did you? We had that discussion in November. Three weeks later the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor
.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

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