A Rose Revealed (16 page)

“What leads? What do you know?”

He was quiet, considering what he should or could tell me. “Well, we know it was a homemade bomb from a recipe anyone could get on the Internet. It was way too powerful for its purpose, and it was made with materials anyone could buy. We’re talking with hardware stores and building supply stores, looking for someone who bought certain items recently. It’s just a matter of time and detail work. We’ll get the guy.”

I swallowed the desire to say, “You’d better.” We said our farewells and disconnected.

I went downstairs in time to see Esther come in the front door with the empty laundry basket under her arm. She smiled at me wanly as she pulled off her black hip-length coat and hung it by the door.

“That looks like a cast-off of Elam’s.” I indicated the jacket.

She reached out and brushed a hand down the sleeve. She nodded, and then actually punched the sleeve. She made a comment in Pennsylvania Dutch that I gathered was addressed to Elam and wasn’t complimentary. Some things translate across language barriers without knowing the words.

“Where’s Mary?” I asked, hiding a smile.

“She’s at Annie’s. I baked a pie this morning, and she took it and some of her chicken
bott boi
for eating.”

She picked up her laundry basket, a blue plastic number, and headed for the shed off the kitchen. I always found a fascination in watching the Amish, so at odds with the modern world in so many ways, use petroleum products like plastic laundry baskets, inline skates, and polyester fabric with impunity. Practicality. Accommodation. And a lack of information about plastic and petroleum, hydrocrackers and high technology?

As Esther walked by, I noticed her slumped shoulders. She was hurting over Elam and his obvious distress at Mary Clare’s engagement. I wished there was something I could do to help her, but I had no idea what.

“Come sit with me a minute,” I said. “I need company.”

With a wan smile she put down her basket. I poured us cups of spearmint scented tea and she put a plate of her homemade ginger snaps on the table. We drank in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“Will you go visit Annie after the laundry’s finished?” I finally asked.

“No. Not today.” She stared at the floor. “Too many people.”

“Too many busybodies?” I asked.

She looked at me and smiled sadly. “I don’t think I’d use that word, but the last thing I want is pity. Or people staring at me.”

There was a knock on the door. I went over and let in a very colorful English woman. I especially loved her red Chucks. They were the perfect complement to her red leather jacket with its rhinestone encrusted yoke, both front and back.

“I’ve come for Mary,” she said.

“Come in, Kristie.” Esther jumped to her feet and introduced me to Kristie Griffin. “She used to live in your rooms.”

“You’re living upstairs now?” Kristie looked delighted.

When I nodded, she said, “I loved it here. Met my husband through the Zooks. Maybe you’ll get lucky too.”

I smiled politely, thinking of the angry man who drove off this morning.

“Kristie’s an artist,” Esther said. “She helps Mary with her art.”

Mary was an artist? I thought the Amish didn’t take to art. I glanced around the great room at the empty walls. No artwork hung there, only a calendar with nature photos and Scripture verses.

“We’re supposed to go out this morning and take pictures,” Kristie said.

Esther looked concerned.

“Rather, Mary says she likes a scene, and I take the photo. I get the results printed and give them to Mary. She uses them for her painting.”

Esther relaxed a bit. Mary might paint pictures, but at least she wasn’t taking them.

Accommodation. The
Ordnung
said no photographs; they were graven images. So Kristie took the pictures.

But Mary painted them? How had I seen no sign of this activity when I was here in the summer caring for her? Of course they knew when I was due and could put any incriminating evidence away.

“She’s at our neighbor’s where there was a death,” Esther said. “She said that if you came before she returned, I was to tell you she has a picture for you and could you drive around another day this week? Just a minute while I get the picture.”

Kristie watched Esther hurry upstairs. “I sure wish Mary would use a phone. I can’t even get her to use the one in the shanty down the road.”

“But she paints?” I was still trying to get my mind around the thought of Mary stepping outside the
Ordnung
. “And John knows?”

“Their bishop knows too, and though he doesn’t really approve, he knows the income has relieved some of the financial burden of Jake’s situation. Less a drain on the district coffers too. I think everyone’s basic policy is don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“But what about the rest of their friends? Do they approve?”

“They don’t know. Their lives don’t take them to art galleries and tourist stores.”

I decided I loved this little quirk in Mary.

Esther came back into the room with a rectangle one foot by three feet.

“May I see?” I was fascinated by this aspect of Mary’s life.

Kristie held up the painting of a serene emerald pasture dotted with wildflowers and backed by a woods in full summer glory. The thing I found fascinating was that a scene which could have been trite was unique, its peaceful mood wrapping me in its comfort.

“Lovely,” I murmured, thinking I could easily stare at this picture for years. “How much?”

I blinked at the figure Kristie named, and she grinned at me.

“People like having the painting of an Amish artist. It frustrates Mary who would rather be known as an artist, not an Amish artist. But as I keep telling her, it’s that adjective that makes her stuff sell so well. She’s one of a kind.”

Kristie handed Esther an envelope. “For Mary. Two of her paintings sold last week, and her quilt print postcards are flying off the racks even at this non-tourist time of year.”

Esther took the envelope, looking uncomfortable.

Kristie turned to me. “Would you mind calling me when Mary decides which day she’d be able to go driving? If she wants to wait until next week, it’s fine with me.”

Kristie and I traded numbers, and she left. Esther and I watched her drive off. I could feel Esther relax as the car disappeared from view.

“What do you think of Mary painting?” I asked.

Esther looked pained. “If we must keep it a secret, doesn’t that mean it’s wrong?”

“But she’s so gifted!”

“Elam says it’s her special God-gift, like cooking is mine.” She walked back to the table and our cold tea. “I guess it’s all right if he says.”

I put fresh water on to heat while Esther sat slumped at the table. We had just taken our first sips of our fresh tea when there was another knock at the door. Esther rose and let Becky and Trevor Stoltzfus in.

Esther’s eyes brightened some when she saw who was visiting. “Can I hold Trevor?” she asked immediately, her arms open and reaching.

Becky nodded as she draped her black shawl over a peg. “I just fed him and he’s asleep.” She passed him to Esther who kissed his wan little cheek.

Becky looked at us grimly. “I had to get out of the house for a few minutes.”

Esther looked at me, and I knew she was thinking about her comment to me about the busybodies.

“That bad?” I asked Becky as I got her a mug from the cupboard.

“They stare,” she said. “I can feel their eyes on me wherever I move. I feel like they’re looking for the scarlet A on my chest.”

I looked at her, amazed that she knew of the Nathaniel Hawthorne classic when she hadn’t known where Texas was. “You read a lot, don’t you, Becky.”

She nodded. “It’s my contact with what I’ve come to think of as the real world.”

I understood exactly what she was saying, but Esther looked shocked.

“Becky, what are you saying?” She looked almost scared.

Becky sat straight and looked at Esther as if she expected a blow. “I’m not staying Plain.”

“Because of Trevor’s father,” Esther whispered. “Oh, Becky, you can’t! He’s
meidung
.”

“I don’t care,” Becky said. “I love him.”

“But you’ll be under the ban, too.”

Becky shook her head. “I never took my vows. I will be fine. I’ll be an outcast, but not like Samuel. My family will be able to talk with me—if they want to.”

“Are you sure?” Esther’s face was a mask of concern. “You will be giving up everything!”

“No,” Becky said. “I will have Samuel and
Herr Gott
.”

“It’ll be okay, Esther,” I said, putting a hand on hers and squeezing gently. “Becky’ll be fine. Millions of people are fancy, and we manage. We love and follow God with as much dedication as you do.”

“But the
Ordnung,”
Esther whispered.

“I will reject the
Ordnung,”
Becky said. There was about her much the same fear and trembling I imagined infused early Christians who declared their rejection of the Law.

“But I will love
Herr Gott
with all my heart. And Samuel.”

“Samuel!” Esther had something she could grab onto. “What kind of a man is he that he would break the
Ordnung
and take you away too!”

“He is a wonderful man, Esther. A kind man. A practical man. I love him with all my heart.” Becky looked intently at Esther. “Certainly you understand that.”

A spasm of pain streaked across Esther’s face. “Did you know I’m leaving here?” she asked.

I looked at her, surprised, my mouth probably hanging open. Esther was such a part of the Zook household that it was hard to imagine the place without her.

“You can’t,” Becky said, distress writ large across her face. “You’re my only friend here.”

“Thank you, but I can’t stay any longer.” Esther stared into her mug, Trevor all but forgotten in her arms. “Mary doesn’t need me now. She’s feeling well and hardly limps unless she’s very tired.” She looked up and tried to be enthusiastic. “I’ve been asked to come and be
maud
for a family with five children. The mother is having a very difficult pregnancy. It’s a fine opportunity.” She failed miserably.

“Elam,” I said, saying out loud what Esther couldn’t bring herself to say. “You’re leaving because of Elam.”

“Why leave?” Becky asked. “Why not marry him? It’s obvious to anyone who watches that you love him.”

Esther put a hand over her mouth like she was trying to hold the pain inside. Her glorious peat-colored eyes were awash in tears.

Becky looked at me, obviously confused.

“Were you at meeting yesterday?” I asked.

Becky nodded.

“Did you hear the banns read?”

Becky looked from me to Esther. “But it wasn’t Elam. It was…” Becky paused for a moment and then continued. “I don’t even remember their names.”

“Mary Clare Epp and Young Joe Lapp,” I supplied. “Elam fancies himself in love with Mary Clare.”

“Oh, no!” Becky turned to Esther. “I didn’t know that!”

“It’s all right,” Esther said. “I should be used to it by now.”

Becky looked at Esther with pity. “I don’t know what I’d do if Samuel didn’t love me.”

“You’d leave,” Esther said. “Just like me.”

I studied Esther, her head bent, her
kapp
covering the shining knot of her glorious hair. “Maybe you ought to bring out some of that competitive spirit I saw the other night when we played Parcheesi. Maybe you need to fight for him as keenly as you fought for that victory.”

“Oh, Rose.” Esther looked appalled and blushed furiously. “That is such a bad way to be! I want to stop acting like that, not act that way more. Besides, I saw Elam’s face when they read the banns.” Her eyes grew cloudy with pain. “I have no chance against sorrow like that.”

I had no response, so I got up and poured us all a fresh cup of tea.

“Is it better to be rejected for a real person like Mary Clare or for no one?” I asked, thinking of Jake.

“What?” Both Esther and Becky looked at me.

“The man who seems to be taking over my heart wants me to go away, but not because he wants someone else. He just doesn’t want me.” Saying the words aloud made me feel hollow inside.

“Is that why you were crying upstairs?” Esther asked.

“You heard me?” I was mortified.

“No. I knew when you came down. Your eyes looked like mine felt.”

“Who is this man?” Becky asked. “I want to tell him a thing or two, right after I finish telling Elam.”

“Becky, you’ll make a feisty fancy lady,” I said with a half-smile, which was all I could manage.

“It’s Jake, isn’t it?” Esther asked.

I shrugged.

Becky looked at me wide-eyed. “But he’s in a wheelchair!”

I bridled. “So what? He’s still wonderful.”

Esther nodded to Becky. “They are easy together, Jake and Rose. They talk and laugh, and Jake is lighter.”

“Jake is not interested,” I said, my voice bleak.

Esther patted my hand in sympathy. “Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

We drank our tea, lost in thought.

“You know,” I said after a few minutes. “Here we are, three women, one Amish, one about to be fancy, and one fancy, and we’ve all got the same problem—a man. That must mean something, though I haven’t the vaguest idea what.”

Esther opened her mouth to comment, but the words died when the door opened and Elam walked in.

The three of us stared at him. I’m sure our faces reflected different levels of emotion, everything from anger to loss. He frowned and looked quickly away.

Esther cleared her throat. “I thought you were at the
graabhof
digging Old Nate’s grave with John and Big Joe Lapp.”

“We finished.” Elam pulled his arms from his jacket and hung it on a peg. “Is there not dinner?”

Esther shook her head. “I didn’t expect you. I thought you would go from the digging to sit with Annie.”

“I stopped there with Father, but they do not need me.”

Esther nodded as she and Elam continued to stare at each other.

“Mom says you’re leaving.” Elam’s expression was almost belligerent.