Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (8 page)

He reached for her hand and took in deep breath. She knew he was fighting to keep his emotions under control. “I wish I could believe that.”

“John, you of all people have to believe me, believe
in
me. I know you don’t understand, but maybe you don’t have to. Maybe you just need to support me, pray for me, and give me the strength to go so I can come back a complete person.”

He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “You already are complete. I wish you could see that.”

So he wouldn’t understand. The one person she’d counted on couldn’t give her what she needed.

His eyes glazed, as if he knew the disappointment she was feeling. Then he lowered his head and squeezed both of her hands. When he pulled away, he touched his head against hers. His eyes never opened. Annie stared at him, waiting to see the deep brown of his eyes that had comforted her for so many years.

He turned and slowly walked down the stairs, his dark locks brushing the collar of his white, starched shirt. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, paused, and then stuck his hands in his pockets.

Annie waited for him to turn so she could see his striking face, but he looked to the ground and took a few steps before breaking into a jog until he disappeared into the thick grove of golden trees that separated them.

 
Chapter Seven
 

C
OUSIN
A
BRAHAM KINDLY
left his shop to take Annie to the bus station. Their trip to town had been quiet, filled with thoughts about what to expect. She had done all the thinking on the emotional side but only knew what little her mamm did about the outside world and what she would need to get by. Once she was with the Glicks, Mamm felt sure Annie would be in good hands.

The bay horse and black buggy pulled up next to the train station amongst the many automobiles. Abraham pulled on the reins and hopped down from his perch. He came around to Annie’s side and grabbed her suitcase. She held Abraham’s shoulder as she stepped to the ground.

“I’ve never been inside.” Annie felt intimidation creep in as she scanned the brick and mortar building before her. Traveling by a motored vehicle suddenly seemed like a bad idea. She liked the slow trot of a horse and the open air against her face. But there was no going back now. Not after what she’d put her family through. She had to do this now, or live with the questions for the rest of her life.

She studied the huge machine from top to bottom and side to side. “This is a big change from a horse.”

Abraham’s large hand rested on her shoulder. “You know how many horses are under that hood? Four hundred and forty-four.” He grinned. “You’ll be where you’re going in no time, with all that power.”

His knowledge of something so unimportant in their world surprised Annie. “How do you know that?”

“Couldn’t help but ask one day when I saw one of those Greyhounds roaring down the road.” He gestured toward his own stocky horse. “Makes Gracie seem irrelevant, doesn’t it?”

“You can’t nuzzle up to a bus.” Annie tried to smile through her anxiety.

He gave Gracie an admiring grin. “I guess we do have a relationship.”

She turned to him and wrapped her arms around his thick waist. “Danke, Abraham.” It was easier having him drop her off and generous of him to take time away from his shop.

“Go on, now. Do what you need to do and come home, ya hear?” He forced a smile and gave her a nod.

“I will. That’s about the only thing I know for sure, that I’ll come home soon.” She sighed, hoping the cleansing breath would calm her nerves.

“Maybe that’s all you need to know for right now.” He winked and watched her go.

Annie sat in the middle of a row of chairs at the bus station. She’d been to the small town of Staunton only a number of times, when she was needed to carry goods or take her mammi and dawdi in for something they needed there, but never for anything to do for herself. She suddenly felt selfish with all the attention drawn around her.

Though it was forbidden, she was curious about some places in the town, but not enough to make excuses to go to them, like some of her friends did. Some of the magazines exposed as much of people’s lives as their skin in revealing clothes, and some of the restaurants served alcohol, which made some of the teenagers curious. The more enamored they became with these temptations, the more they drove her away. The things she had seen created a strange feeling in her stomach, as they did now.

“Lord, keep me safe on this journey,” she whispered with bowed head.

She tried not to stare as she considered the variety of clothes people wore and wondered what it must be like to have so many choices. She observed one man’s arms, which were tattooed from forearm to wrist, wondering how he decided on a green vine wrapping up his arm to his bicep. It reminded her of the jasmine that grew on her mamm’s lattice by the garden. Another young man wore earrings from his earlobe to the top of his ear. Even if her community didn’t forbid the practice, she knew she wouldn’t want any part of that. She cringed at the pain it must cause.

A man and a woman groped one another, their lips locked. Annie hoped only
one
of them would be boarding the bus soon. She’d had enough of an education on public affection for a while.

An unshaven man with tousled hair paced through the station. Annie wondered why another man had on a suit with shiny shoes, and this man searched in the trash cans for food. His long coat was dirty and worn, as were his red high-top tennis shoes. Annie remembered some of the Amish girls wearing high-tops with their plain dresses and looked down at her flat black shoes.

One woman chased after her toddler and gave him two hard slaps to his behind. The boy wailed and screamed. The mother sat beside him with a tense face, trying to ignore him. Annie wondered who suffered more from the disciplinary action—the mother or the child.

An elderly lady slowly walked over and sat near her. She put her purse in the chair between them and took off her scarf. “I’ve always admired those bonnets you ladies wear.” She gazed admiringly at Annie’s kapp.

“Danke.” Annie paused when the woman smiled. “I mean, thank you.” She noticed the purple scarf she’d removed from her puffy hairdo and then folded neatly in her lap. “That’s a pretty color.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “You don’t wear color?”

“We wear some dark colors.” Annie smiled at the lady’s interest.

“Really?” She chuckled. “Soon enough you won’t be able to tell a Mennonite from an Amish.”

Annie thought on that for a moment. The woman might be right. Wouldn’t that put a wrinkle in Mammi’s bed sheets? She had known Mammi and Dawdi wouldn’t come to see her off, but she was disappointed her daed hadn’t told her good-bye. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to him while she was gone. He would probably never understand why she’d left.

“I didn’t offend you, did I?” The woman put a hand on Annie’s arm.

“No, it’s our faith that matters most. And we do agree on that.”

“Well, that’s what I’ve always thought.”

“Some of our rules are not the same. But we appreciate our similarities more than our differences.”

“Smart girl.” She smiled and reached for her bag. “Are you riding on this bus?” She nodded toward the window into the huge garage that housed the buses.

Annie noticed the Harrisonburg name on the side. “Jah, I am.” She made a mental note to try and curb her Deitsch tongue.

A man wearing a shirt with the Greyhound logo stepped down from a bus and yelled to the crowd. “Now boarding for Harrisonburg, Virginia.”

The lady scanned the room and all the people heading for the bus. “Looks like it might be crowded. Maybe we can sit together.”

Annie nodded. “My name’s Annie.”

The lady held out her hand. “Mine’s Delores.”

She took the woman’s warm, wrinkled hand in hers. A common gesture, but the Amish handshake was a single, firm pump.

“Do you have friends in Harrisonburg?”

Not wanting to share her story, Annie nodded. “Do you?”

“My grandchildren, whom I miss terribly.”

“It must be hard to be away from them.”

“Yes, yes it is.” A grim shadow fell over Delores’s face as she turned her head forward to follow the line to the garage.

Annie thought about how hard it must be not to have all the generations of family together. As much as her grandparents were difficult to be around at times, she couldn’t imagine them not being next door. And she still dearly missed her mamm’s mamm as well. She didn’t live far, but it was far enough that it took all day to get there, eat a meal, and come home again.

By the time they got on the bus, few seats were left. They took the last two that were together and settled in and talked for a short while before Delores fell asleep.

Annie couldn’t. There was too much to see. The acres of crops soon turned to pasture, and then houses were everywhere, one on top of another, with small yards crowded together as far as she could see. She’d always figured they must be very compatible. How else could they live that close together? Drops of rain hit the window and bounced off the leaves of a row of maple trees they drove by. The moisture would keep the foliage green a bit longer before autumn would alter its many colors in the valley.

Annie tried to enjoy the ride and not think about what her family was doing. She was homesick from the minute she stepped onto the bus. She knew thinking of home wouldn’t help, but when she shut her eyes, its images flooded her heart.

They’d been fishing all morning, and not a single fish dangled from the string. Annie yanked in her line and threw the pole on the grass behind her. She felt regret when John laid his rod on the bank beside him and waved her over. “Dig, right here.” He pointed to a muddy spot next to the water.

Annie squinted up at him.

“It’s just like making a mud pie.”

The dirt became soft, and she scooped out a large handful. He touched her nose and stuck a finger in the middle of the pile. Out popped a pink worm, fat and lively as it made its way out of the brown earth in her palm.

John took her pole and then the worm, which he stuck on the hook and then set in front of her. “Now give it a good spit.”

Annie caught his eye to confirm his request. He nodded. She swished the saliva around in her cheeks and puckered, then forced the liquid from her mouth. She missed and frowned at John.

He chuckled. “Try again, and aim.”

She did and hit the worm.

“There, now you’ll catch a fish.”

She tossed her line right after he did. “You think so?”

“Maybe even Charlie.”

“Really?”

Charlie had been caught a handful of times but always returned to the pond. When John had said Charlie was as old as the hills, Annie had looked at the valley and then the rolling mounds and wondered how old that was.

She did catch a fish that day, and she spit on her hook every time she went fishing afterwards.