Whispers of a New Dawn (13 page)

“No one said you were wicked—”

“Don’t you see I was committing myself to God and to all of you, not just Moses? Don’t you see I was willing to give up the sky and the heavens, something I thought I’d never do? How can I stay here when I know what people are whispering once my back is turned?” She stopped trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks. “I’m leaving, Bishop Zook. I’m going back to my planes and cockpits and my tall white clouds. I should never have left. I should have asked Moses to come into my world rather than trying to fit into his.” She smiled sadly. “But he loved all of you more than he loved me. He would never have left Paradise.”

The bishop sat back and let out a long breath of air. He murmured something no one could hear. Putting his hands in his pockets he looked at Jude and Lyyndaya. “What are you going to do? Weeks ago you considered staying here with Rebecca. Are you thinking of leaving with her when she leaves?”

Jude’s face was dark. “Perhaps.”

“You remember what I said? That there is no turning back this time? If you go, you go?”

“I remember you said that, yes.”

“Sure, I could try to smooth things over again, but what is the point? You’re no longer one of us, are you? None of you are. Except Lyyndaya’s mother and father. And Ruth. I don’t know how you feel, Nate.”

Nate didn’t avert his eyes from the bishop’s gaze. “I feel the same way my sister does. If she leaves I will leave with her.”

“And I also, Bishop Zook.” It was Ruth. “The Lord knows I love you. We all do. We are not ungrateful for all you have done for our family. But they will need me if they go from this place, and I feel that God would have me accompany them.”

Lyyndaya looked at her sister in shock. “What are you talking about? You never brought this up before.”

“Nevertheless, I’ve been praying about it. Especially since Becky returned with a broken heart from the time of instruction this week.
How many broken hearts does a young woman need, Bishop Zook? Is one not enough that the church must inflict another?”

“Ruth.” Bishop Zook sat up in his chair. “Who will care for your parents?”

“I have talked with them about this. And my youngest sister, Sarah. No, I did not speak with Lyyndaya or Jude, but I spoke with the others in our family. They are all in agreement. I should remain with those who are being spurned and help them heal.”

“No one is being spurned.”

“Of course they are. Becky for loving your grandson with all her heart. Jude and Lyyndaya for not being able to make up their minds—and believe me, I understand why the church would be frustrated with them. Being Amish is not a merry-go-round a person jumps on and off of. It may be that my sister and her husband must follow God along a different path. I will help them find out.”

The bishop tugged at his beard. “You will not be able to return without repentance.”

“I know that. But it may be I will not return. Splinter groups from Amish communities have started new communities in other places. Perhaps that is what I will do.”

Lyyndaya shook her head. “You can’t do this, Ruth. It’s too much of a sacrifice. And mother and father need you.”

“Sarah and her family will come to this house to live. Harley and Luke and Daniel will pitch in. That has been decided. Mother and Father will be fine.”

Grandmother Kurtz patted Ruth’s hand. “We will miss you. But we shall be in good hands. And I can always pray that one day you shall return to us.”

Lyyndaya stared at her parents and sister. “All this scheming going on?”

Grandmother Kurtz chuckled. “My tea is cool enough to drink now.” She sipped at her cup. “Trying to follow God’s will is not scheming, my dear. At the right time we have brought you into what we believe is right. You had already made up your minds about the Hawaiian Islands without us, hadn’t you?”

Lyyndaya sat still. “I suppose that’s so.”

“The Hawaiian Islands?” Bishop Zook fixed his gaze on Jude. “What is there for you?”

“Friends who need help at a flying school.”

“What? All the way there to help people learn to fly an airplane?”

“Some of it will be instructing army pilots.”

“The army doesn’t have enough teachers of their own?”

“Not who are skilled in stunt flying.”

The bishop sat a moment. Then he reached for a cookie but didn’t eat it, tapping it against the top of the table. “I said I didn’t follow the war news very much and I don’t. But I read enough of it to know how to pray. I understand what it means when Washington freezes the assets of Japan and stops the export of oil. The Japanese will either huddle together in their islands and give up any thought of making their nation mighty. Or they will fight.” The cookie broke in half. “I think they will fight. America would. What is Roosevelt thinking?”

Jude nodded. “I realize he has backed them into a corner.”

Bishop Zook bit into one of the broken halves of the cookie. “Roosevelt wants a war. He wants America in this conflict. That’s what is going on. Where do you think the Japanese will strike us?”

Jude shrugged. “If they choose to fight? I think the South Pacific. Probably the Philippines.”

“So if you go to this flight school you will be training pilots to make war.”

“I know that’s how you see it. For me, it’s an opportunity to teach young men the skills that will keep them alive and give them a better chance of returning to their families.”

“Of course. It is the young Jude all over again.” The bishop looked into his cup. “May I have more coffee?”

Ruth got to her feet. “Of course.” She returned from the stove with the pot. The dark liquid steamed as she poured. “This is so strong now it will make your beard black.”

Bishop Zook laughed. “Some miracle that would be.” He drank slowly. “I condemn no one here. You are a complicated family. But I cannot save you this time. If you go to the Hawaiian Islands and teach
men how to fly warplanes and kill, you will be excommunicated. My other bishops will insist upon it. With the exception perhaps of Pastor Miller, our own leadership will demand it.”

“Not Miller?” Jude asked.

“He will vote for it in the end. But he will not push for it. For Pastor Miller mercy is always the better path. That is who he has become in the past twenty years.” He took a longer swallow from his coffee. “I feel as he does. But he is not in my place. I am required to uphold the
Ordnung
in a way he is not. The way people see it, you have broken faith. Broken the covenant with us. They believe much time has been granted you in order to allow you to change your minds and your ways and you have not done it. Now they will hear you are leaving again to help the army prepare for war. We are the people of peace. For hundreds of years that has been our way. You know that.”

“It’s not difficult to see you will have no choice.” Lyyndaya drew a pattern on the tabletop with her finger. “Some feel Rebecca has been judged by God and our family with her. They will not be surprised if we leave. They want us to leave.”

The bishop didn’t answer her.

Grandfather Kurtz always had his large black German Bible at the kitchen table. “We read in Isaiah:
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts
.” He looked up. “Who knows? Let us put the Amish of Paradise and the Whetstones and Kurtzes utterly in the hands of God. May I pray, Bishop Zook?”

“Please do so. And I will pray after you have finished.”

Both men prayed for mercy and understanding and the triumph of grace over judgment. Then the bishop hugged and kissed everyone on the cheek before going to the door.

“When are you leaving?” he asked as he put on his hat.

“We will go by rail to San Francisco,” Jude replied. “From there we will take a ship to Honolulu. Our friend who operates the flight school is paying for our passage.” Jude offered his hand. “If we feel the Lord is still in this we will be gone in a week. Perhaps less.”

The bishop shook Jude’s hand with a strong grip. “Go with him then.” He looked at Becky. “What a fine granddaughter you would have been for us. How we love you. Bless you, Rebecca.”

Becky felt she was going to break down. “Thank you. I looked so forward to being closer to you. I wish you well in the Lord.”

In his buggy the bishop paused and looked up at the family standing together on the porch in the lamplight. “
For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it
.” He picked up the traces in his hands, clicked his tongue, and the horse moved forward into the dark.

Ruth was holding Becky in her arms. “I will be with you. Your brother and mother and father will be by your side.”

“It’s my fault all this is happening to us.”

Her father put a hand on her back. “No. It’s many things coming together all at once—Nate’s return, Moses’ death, Billy Skipp’s letter and Ram Peterson’s plea, Pastor King’s words, our violation of the
Ordnung
, the feelings that are running high among many of the people here, the anger of the other bishops. So now we’re going where we’re most needed. And we’re going as a family. Our season here is ended.”

“But we loved this place.”

“We shall find love somewhere else.” Her mother kissed Becky on the cheek. “All kinds of love. God is everywhere. His grace is without limits.”

“Not love for a man.” Becky’s eyes were sharp. “No.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know it. I will never love another man. Not on this earth.”

T
EN

R
aven!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get in here.”

The young man entered the room and snapped a salute. “Colonel Skipp. Lieutenant Raven reporting as ordered.”

Skipp tossed him a salute. “At ease.”

The colonel was standing behind his desk in a leather flight jacket. Raven had just watched him land a new P-40 Warhawk he had been putting through its paces. There was a touch of gray to his red hair but not much. Raven knew he was in his early forties but thought he still looked like a young man in his late twenties. Thinking about this, he remained at attention. Skipp didn’t notice because he was looking down at a file folder that was open on his desk.

“Okay. Christian Scott Raven. Born in Oklahoma. Flying proficiency is rated high. Eyes like a carbine sight. Shooting is flawless—of course shooting at targets on the ground or streamers being towed by another plane is nothing like going after an enemy fighter, Raven.”

“No, sir.”

Skipp looked up. “What kind of name is Raven?”

“It’s Cherokee, Colonel.”

Skipp glanced back down. “Never been in the brig. Doesn’t swear, doesn’t drink, doesn’t chew. Helps the padre with church parade.” Skipp’s eyes returned to Raven’s face. “Blond hair. Blue eyes.”

“My father was white.”

“Still alive?”

“No, sir.”

“Raven his family name?”

“My mother’s. She’s full-blooded Cherokee.”

“You took your mother’s family name?”

“After my father’s death, yes, sir.”

Skipp was back with the file folder, his left hand tapping out a rhythm, the gold band on his ring finger glinting from the sunlight that streamed through a window. “Rated high. Highest possible rating.” He flipped the folder shut and looked Raven in the eye. “So what’s the problem, Lieutenant?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a problem, sir.”

“No?” Skipp folded his arms over his chest. “You lack aggression. When it’s an attack sequence you fly fast but not fast enough. Your barrel rolls are fat and sloppy. Your dives are shallow. You can’t shake fighters off your tail quickly. Can’t zig and can’t zag well. What’s the deal?”

“I—”

“Level with me.”

“I suppose I don’t see the point, sir.”

“Don’t see the point?”

“Of barrel rolls. And flitting all over the sky like a bat. And trying to shake pests off my tail. We’re not in the war, sir. I know people think we will be, but I kind of doubt it. The Japanese will rattle their sabers a while and go home. The Nazis will take Europe and Asia and eventually we’ll be doing trade with a German empire. Meanwhile Americans will just be flying around. And that suits me.”

Skipp raised his dark red eyebrows and made a circle in the air with his finger. “Just flying around the good old USA.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that’s all you want out of your army career?”

“Pretty much. I couldn’t afford a plane of my own. Uncle Sam had plenty. So I signed up and hitched a ride to the clouds.” He grinned. “Sir.”

“Mm-hm.” Skipp glanced over at a calendar on the wall. “Another week and it’ll be Halloween.”

“Yes, sir.”