A Plain Man (39 page)

“Ridiculous.” Eli punctuated his single-word summation with a stomp of his foot. “You left on
rumschpringe
to see how the rest of the world lived. You went to Cleveland, you realized it wasn't for you, and you came home. End of story. I'll admit you stayed longer than most during your running-around, but when you walked through our door on Christmas Eve you
broke clean from your past.
You are home with a family who loves you, Caleb. No one holds anything against you because you left. If a district member still snubs you that is their problem, not yours. You will answer only to God for your sins.”

Caleb stared into darkness so long Eli thought their conversation might have ended. “I understand what you're saying and I respect your opinion, but I intend to take this step before committing to our faith.”

“Then you are willful,” snapped Eli. “No different from your insistence on using a Sawzall on that roof. As your bishop I forbid you from pursuing this nonsense.”

Lifting his chin, Caleb turned to face him. “Who I used to be has driven a wedge between Josie and me. Not because she won't forgive me, but because I can't forgive myself. She suggested this idea, and I want to take her advice. Otherwise, she won't believe that I want our relationship to work.”

His words were as soft as a cat's purr, but Eli wasn't moved by his son's eloquence. “Then Josie Yoder is behaving as willfully as you.
Make our relationship work
—that's how an
Englischer
talks. That's how an
Englischer
thinks. You two should forget this nonsense, finish your
membership classes, and take the kneeling vow next month. You're making this complicated when it's really very simple: Submit, and give your life to God.” Eli pushed himself to his feet, wearier than he thought possible. “You're welcome to consult the other district ministers on this matter if you like.”

Caleb reached out to lend support as Eli crossed the porch. “No, I realize you're instructing me in accordance with our
Ordnung.
The other elders will offer the same advice. But I'm planning to do this soon, and follow through with my remaining classes. I invite you and
Mamm
to witness, but I understand if you choose not to come.”

Shrugging off his son's hand, Eli braced himself against a post. “I can walk on my own accord; I'm no cripple. And I suggest you pray long and hard about jumping into a lake with a bunch of strangers.” Exhaustion was rapidly turning him mean-spirited, not an enviable trait for a bishop.

“I won't be jumping. I will walk slowly with my eyes fixed on the future and the man I want to be.
Gut nacht, Daed
.” Caleb pulled open the screen door and entered the kitchen. On the table the kerosene lamp threw off a pool of yellow light, its wick turned low.

Eli remained on the porch, reflecting on what had transpired. Just when he thought his son had turned the corner, Caleb pulled this stunt. Would he ever become a simple Plain man? And that Yoder gal must have rocks in her head or she wouldn't lead him down this path. But the bishop could no longer think straight. He was even too tired to pray.

Tonight, he would rest. Tomorrow he would bow his head and seek divine guidance for another baffling conundrum with his firstborn. Then he would do what had always served him well for the last twenty years: He would talk matters over with his
fraa
.

18

Clothed then in blood washed linen

How I'll sing Thy sovereign grace

E
lizabeth punched the pillow a second time and pulled the covers tight beneath her chin. It was too early to get up and too chilly to do anything but bury her head and catch another forty winks. Digging the heavy quilt from the cedar chest had been a
gut
idea on the part of her
ehemann.
If this cold snap continued, she would have Caleb build a fire in the living room woodstove, besides the one in the kitchen. They'd already put that one to use weeks ago. Heat from the front room's stove would drift up to their bedroom through vents cut in the floor, while the kitchen's woodburner warmed her
kinners'
bedrooms. Elizabeth shifted again, looking for a comfortable position for her stiff back.

“What has you tossing and turning?” Eli's question floated through the air in the dark. Not a hint of dawn showed beneath the muslin curtains.

“I'm thinking this frost will put an end to my garden. And I haven't picked the last apples from our trees near the pasture fence.”

“
Ach,
leave those for the birds. You've canned enough to make pies all winter long.” Eli shifted closer beneath the covers.

“The temperature is another thorn in my foot. If it's this cold in October, what does this bode for January? My joints are already complaining about the dampness.”

“What would my bride have me do?” he asked. “Pray for balmy weather for Wayne County this winter?”

She smiled at his affectionate moniker. “
Jah
, or buy us a nice
retirement home someplace warm. I heard that Pinecraft, Florida, is mild year-round.”

Eli snorted. “Big talker. I can't picture you moving that far from your children. At least, not until we get all four married—and Katie isn't even thirteen.”

Elizabeth settled her head against his shoulder. “I can dream, can't I? Now go back to sleep. Caleb has been doing barn chores every morning. You have plenty of time before Jack picks you up for work.”

“I don't need more sleep. What I need is advice from someone with a level head.”

“That counts me out.” Elizabeth pulled the covers over her head like a turtle into its shell and produced a very believable snore.

Eli yanked down the quilt. “You're my best available choice. Help me,
fraa,
before I do something wrong with Caleb. I need a
mamm'
s point of view.”

That got her attention. She boosted herself higher against the pillows. “Tell me what happened. You two have been getting along well for months. Is this about you not calling a doctor for Sarah? No one blames you, Eli—not Sarah and not Adam.”

Eli struck a match to light the kerosene lamp next to their bed. The wick produced an amber glow that visibly warmed the room. “No, this isn't about Sarah. I thank God she's recovering nicely. This is about something our son brought up after you went to bed. I was so tired I couldn't see any logic to his idea. Now that I've slept and prayed on the matter, I still think it's a harebrained notion.”

Elizabeth reached for his hand. “Let's go downstairs to the kitchen. Caleb is outside in the barn and the girls aren't up yet. We can talk while the coffee brews and keep our ears open for Sarah and Rebekah. I'll need caffeine if I'm to be any help at all.”

Eli slung his legs out of bed. “I hope you bought plenty of Folgers. This might take more than a single pot.”

Fifteen minutes later they were bundled in thick bathrobes at the table, sipping their first cup. Eli hadn't taken time to build a fire. “Tell me,
ehemann.
What's got you troubled?” she said.

Eli sighed and repeated last night's conversation with Caleb. “Can
you make sense of this? Caleb wishes to get baptized twice—once in a river or pond with a bunch of
Englischers
, and a second time with the young people at our communion service.” Glancing at the stairs, Eli lowered his voice. “Have you ever heard such gibberish? All the water in the Atlantic Ocean can't wash away that horrible tattoo. He needs to keep his sleeves down and forget about it.” Eli hissed the words through his teeth, his vehemence revealing a man deeply distressed.

Elizabeth swallowed another mouthful of coffee and set her cup primly on the saucer. She had to choose her words carefully to be the voice of reason, even if she had no experience with the situation. “John baptized Jesus in the waters of a river. No cup of water had been poured over his head. Instead, the Jordan River washed away dust from the road because our Savior was sinless. If Caleb wants to be washed clean in the Mohican River or Killbuck Creek or in somebody's farm pond, what could it hurt?” She lifted the coffee carafe to refill both cups.

Eli stared, transfixed, as though she'd grown a third ear. “What would it hurt?” He repeated her question. “I am the bishop of our congregation, the man charged with upholding the
Ordnung
and maintaining the old ways that have served us for hundreds of years. When change comes to our district, it's after much prayer, many discussions among the ministers, and sometimes even a vote by the membership. Our son wants to casually throw the practices of another Christian sect into our worship. And you think it's a practical idea?”

Elizabeth twisted her paper napkin into a corded rope. “If I understood you correctly, Caleb doesn't wish to change our district's policies. This is something meant solely for him, to heal his shame.”

Eli emitted a sound akin to a dog's bark. “Heal his shame,
bah
. That sounds like feeling sorry for yourself after you fell into the hog pen. When all you need to do is climb out and wash off.” He picked up his mug and drank deeply.

“In his own way, isn't that what Caleb is trying to do? If he plans to join our church and start following our
Ordnung
at the next communion service, then I don't think you should judge him. Or try to prevent this.”

“We're not to call attention to ourselves in this showy fashion. That
is for the
Englisch
Christian believers.” Eli opened his mouth to say more, but clamped his lips together instead. His expression, however, didn't soften.

“You asked for my advice,
ehemann,
and now I've given it to you. I believe you should tread carefully on thin ice.”

“
Danki
for your opinion.” It appeared to take great effort for the bishop to utter those four words. “Now if I can trouble you for a bowl of oatmeal, I need to get ready for work. Jack and the crew will arrive in thirty minutes.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Elizabeth patted his arm and set about her normal morning routine. But she didn't need to see his pinched frown or the sag of his shoulders to realize his disappointment. Eli had expected her to support his decision, not just as their bishop, but as her husband and head of the family. Parents often turned to each other for a united front when teenagers tested the limits of household rules. And in the past she would have gone along even if she didn't agree one hundred percent. For everyone's well-being, it was important that a child didn't divide and conquer.

But Caleb wasn't a child. He wasn't even a teenager anymore. He was a grown man who was suffering from his past mistakes. Caleb had approached his father as an adult and offered respect for Eli's dual roles in his life. His decision had been reached after months of struggle. And frankly, what would it hurt? Sometimes exceptions should be made to their
Ordnung
, exceptions that could restore a man's soul and bring peace to their household.

“Please, Lord, shine Your healing light on my son,” she prayed. “And give Your loyal servant Eli wisdom and patience to deal with this crisis.”

When Elizabeth opened her eyes, her basket of laundry still needed to be folded, a kettle of water was boiling away on the stove, and the saucepan of oats was just beginning to thicken. On the surface, everything was business as usual for the Beachys that morning. But something had changed—a shift on their family's axis. Whether or not Eli ever accepted Caleb's choices, she knew her son would find his true path in the Plain community. Of that, she was absolutely certain.

On the last Saturday in October Josie hopped in her two-seater buggy pulled by their fastest Standardbred and arrived at the Beachy farm shortly after nine o'clock. She knew she would be early, but didn't wish to hang around her house any longer. One of her parents would try to talk her out of participating in today's momentous event.

Momentous for Caleb, and also for her.

Both
Mamm
and
Daed
hated the thought of Caleb going against district rules and their
Ordnung
in this fashion. When Josie admitted the idea had been hers, their expressions rivaled the time they'd witnessed a monkey manning the reins of an elephant while wearing a red top hat. After the elder Yoders recovered their wits, they took turns making doom-and-gloom predictions that could stem from Caleb's rash actions.
Daed
concluded that if this led to a delay in joining the church for another year, their hands would be tied. After all, Caleb's father was the bishop.
Mamm
sat wringing her hands in her lap all throughout breakfast. “I had such high hopes,” she had muttered more than once.