Seeing Your Face Again (10 page)

Winter weather never won out, Debbie decided, comforting herself with the thought. Spring always came regardless of how cold the storm blew. Would not this trouble with Alvin end in the same way? How that would be, she had no idea, but there had at least been a little good news tonight…even if she had to imagine it.

Bishop Beiler had told them at the supper table, “Deacon Mast stopped by to tell me that Alvin has let his parents know that he's safe in Philadelphia.”

“The deacon made a special trip for that?” Saloma was surprised.

“Deacon Mast knew I was concerned,” the bishop replied, but he fell silent after that.

From the look on Saloma's face, Debbie could tell there was more to it. Maybe what church discipline was on tap for Alvin. Perhaps that was part of the reason for the deacon's visit too. Deacon Mast probably consulted with the bishop on what his first contact with Alvin ought to consist of now that Alvin's whereabouts were known. Excommunication was likely not far away, even though such a public rebuke wouldn't reflect well on Bishop Beiler's leadership. If he lost a member to the
Englisha
world in such a fashion, it wouldn't be an easy matter for him to resolve. She could tell from the looks on all their faces that the situation was serious. Even Henry Yoder's excommunication last year hadn't produced such troubled expressions around the supper table.

Lois wiped the dishes beside her with quick motions, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

Debbie gave her a little smile. “Sorry. I haven't been meaning to ignore you. I was just thinking about Alvin's leaving.”

Lois nodded. “I understand. It's a troubling thing for the community. And for you. But perhaps he'll come back.”

“Thanks,” Debbie whispered. She doubted Lois really had much hope in Alvin's return, but the sentiment did count. And what concern in her own life was Lois thinking about right now? She had a faraway look in her eyes. Should she ask?

While Debbie pondered the question, Saloma came in from the living room and cleared her throat. “Are you girls about done?
Daett
wants to have the prayer and Scripture reading soon. He's retiring early tonight.”

“We'll rush,” Debbie said. Saloma withdrew, and Debbie decided the bishop was even more troubled than she'd imagined. He seldom retired well before nine o'clock. But then perhaps the winter weather was getting to him. She ought to stop her thoughts about things and
retire herself for a long winter's sleep. Things might look different once spring weather arrived. And if she thought about spring long enough, she could almost imagine the first of its warmth. The warm breezes would melt the drifts of snow along the road. The horses would run in the barnyard with full vigor. This renewal might also happen for Alvin and herself. She just had to keep her faith in the Lord's guiding hand. He'd brought her this far. He wouldn't fail her now.

Lois interrupted her thoughts. “I should tell you something. Debbie. You won't like it though.”

Debbie glanced at Lois, who had her gaze glued on the plate she'd just dried. Lois looked downright guilty.

Lois continued. “I was over to speak with your
mamm
and
daett
on Sunday afternoon.” Lois let the words hang.

“Yes?” Debbie remembered Lois had gone for a walk after they came home from the church services. She'd thought at the time it was a little strange. Lois usually stayed around the house on Sunday afternoons. But with the trouble in the community about Alvin, and Debbie's own worries of the evening ahead when she'd have to face Paul, she hadn't thought more about it.

When Lois walked down the drive, Debbie and Ida had both given a little shrug as they watched from the upstairs window. The bishop and Saloma had been taking their afternoon naps at the time, asleep in their rockers. They probably hadn't noticed anything unusual.

“Well, it's like this, Debbie. I'm moving in with your parents for a while.”

Debbie jerked her head toward Lois. “You're doing
what
?” she almost shouted.

“I spoke with your
mamm
at length,” Lois said, her voice low. “They're giving me a place to stay for the time being. Until I get my feet on the ground and find a job. In fact…” And here Lois's face lit up. “In fact, your
mamm
said she would help me find work and
give me help with all the things I'll need out there—a driver's license, some schooling. Your parents are very
wunderbah
people, Debbie.”

Debbie tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“I'm moving this weekend,” Lois continued. Her face took on a glow as she spoke. “This is what I've always dreamed of, Debbie. And now I'm going to get a chance to live it. Even though I hope for your sake that Alvin comes back, I'm still so thankful to him. His leaving gave me the courage to finally make the plunge. And you gave me the way it could be done. For so long I've wondered how I'd ever get going out there in that
wunderbah
world, sheltered as I've always been. Then I saw the way open up for me by your coming here, Debbie. It was like seeing the path through the Red Sea that the children of Israel traveled on when the Egyptians pursued them.”

“Lois!” Debbie almost shouted. “You're not thinking straight! What I did
is not
what you're doing.”

Lois looked over her shoulder. “That's what you say, but your
mamm
had a totally different take on it. I could see her eyes shining when I told her what my plans were. She thinks what I think, Debbie. And I know we're right. It is the same as what you did. You walked away from your world, so why can't I do the same?”

“That world is not what you think it is!” Debbie knew the attempt was doomed to failure before she even said the words. Lois had finally gone over the edge, and she had provided the way out. Well Alvin and she had. Now Bishop Beiler would not only mourn the loss of his daughter, he would also surely hold her accountable. Oh, how quickly things changed!

“You don't have to look so downcast.” Lois sounded almost chirpy. “I say it's a fair trade, really. And your
mamm
seems to think the same thing. You're becoming Amish, and I'm going
Englisha
. Everyone's happy.”

Debbie said nothing, but she could imagine how the conversation with her mother had gone. No doubt Mom would look at things exactly how Lois described them, though her mother had
always disapproved more than mourned her decision to move into the Beiler household. If her mother's pain came from anywhere, it came from the rejection of her way of life. She'd always dreamed her daughter would follow her into the world of business. Lois would fill that dream in a belated sort of way. Mom was practical, Debbie thought. She'd think better late than never. And Lois had swerved into the one person who would be the most helpful on her venture into the outside world.

“It's actually going to happen!” Lois sounded ever more cheerful.

“Have you told your dad and mom?” Debbie asked.

A cloud passed over Lois's face. “
Nee
, but I'm moving anyway.”

Debbie sensed Lois's hesitancy. “You'd better tell them before you go,” she said, pressing her advantage. Perhaps there was still a way to persuade Lois to change her mind before she told her parents her plans. But Debbie knew that even if she succeeded and Lois was temporarily persuaded, the way was open now. As the Amish often said, “Get a cow's head through the fence, and she'll find a way out sooner or later.” It was why they worked so hard at prevention. They strove to keep even an inkling of desire for the
Englisha
world from a person's heart, rather than depend on persuasion once a person had decided to leave or had actually left. Debbie washed the last bowl and tried one more time. “Lois, please don't do this. You're making a huge mistake.”

Lois said nothing, but her face was pinched with resolution.

The dishes finished, both girls silently went into the living room.

“There you two are!” Saloma said, looking up with a smile on her face.

Debbie sat on the couch, and Lois took a seat beside her.

Saloma stood and called up the stairs, “We're ready, Ida!”

Quick steps followed Saloma's words, and Ida appeared in the doorway. She rushed over to sit down. The bishop cleared his throat and opened his Bible.

Debbie stole a quick glance at Lois's face, but it appeared calm.
That was good. Lois would say nothing tonight about her plans. Of that, Debbie was certain.

Bishop Beiler read from Psalm 31 in his deep voice. “In thee, O L
ORD
, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in thy righteousness. Bow down thine ear to me.”

The scripture verses couldn't be better selected for tonight, Debbie thought. The Lord Himself was talking to her through His Word. She prayed silently as Bishop Beiler continued to read. “Please, Lord, help me. Don't let me harm these people. I know I'm not perfect and I don't always do what is right, but I really did come to the Beiler home with pure motives. Now it seems as if everything is turning around, and I won't be able to justify what's happening. It does look like everything is my fault. First Alvin leaving, and now if Lois really moves in with my parents, there will be no explaining that away. I may have to leave. I don't want that to happen. I thought I was following Your will by moving into this community. Dear Lord, be my fortress and strong tower right now. And be with Alvin wherever he is in Philadelphia. Comfort his heart and show him that I do love him. Lead him back home again. And talk to Lois. Help her see the sorrow she's about to bring to her parents' hearts. Show her how unwise this choice really is.”

Bishop Beiler finished the Scripture reading and closed his Bible. “Let's pray,” he said. He knelt beside his rocker without further words. He lifted his head toward the heavens and spoke. “Now unto you, O Lord, all merciful and compassionate Father. Look down upon us tonight and remember us, your frail and broken creation. Of all the things Your hands have made, we are the ones who bring You the most grief and sorrow. We ask that You forgive us our sins and remember our iniquities no more, just as we likewise do for those who trespass against us.”

Lois sobbed, and her
daett
paused. When no more sounds followed, he continued, “Remember our community tonight, O Lord, and the trouble we have amongst us…”

Debbie listened to Bishop Beiler's voice. This was what she wanted for herself someday. A home of her own with a man who had spiritual depth and strength. If she needed any confirmation as to who that man could be, she received it this very moment. She couldn't imagine Paul Wagler, the jokester, at prayer like this. Perhaps he would learn to do so in time, as all Amish men she'd met seemed to eventually, but she didn't want to take the chance. Alvin praying like this? That didn't take much imagination at all. Even though she'd never heard him pray out loud, she was certain he prayed from his heart. “Lord, please don't take this away from me,” Debbie pled quietly.

Ten

L
ater that week, on Saturday morning, the breakfast dishes had been cleared away and the house was quiet. The winter weather had cleared, and sunshine made the snow glisten through the kitchen window. In Debbie's mind it was the calm before the storm—at least inside the house.

“Next week the
gut
weather will hold,” Bishop Beiler had declared at the breakfast table. “There might even be a warm spell coming our way.”

“Winter's far from over though,” Saloma reminded him, as if one needed such a qualifier with the deep drifts that still lay along the road.

To Debbie, Saloma's words had double meaning that spelled trouble for her.

Lois had remained silent all week about her plans to move out, which was unlike her. She usually readily spoke up when she had something to say or big plans.

Debbie hoped Lois had changed her mind.

As if Lois knew what Debbie was thinking, she appeared in
the kitchen doorway. “Debbie, may I speak with you in private? Outside?”

Saloma gave them both a worried look as Debbie followed Lois through the washroom door and outside.