Healing Faith (3 page)

"No, Father. With the sick mares, he has to work
later than he wished to get the field cleared," she replied, her
voice somewhat aloof as she spoke to her father, glancing at me
briefly before returning her eyes out towards the window once
more.

“Abigail, do not stare so,” Fannie admonished quietly
when the youngest of the daughters continued to watch me. She
blushed and looked down at her lap as her father recited meal
prayers, and I found myself copying her movements, only raising my
eyes when he had finished.

We were quiet as we ate, Fannie smiling at me and
offering more food than I could possibly indulge in, and Emma and
Abigail hid their smiles every time I glanced their way. Jonah
remained silent for most of the meal, breaking the silence only
when he complimented his wife on a good supper. I felt terribly out
of place and awkward as I ate, unsure of where to put my hands,
whether to eat the leg of chicken I had on my plate with a fork or
with my hand, whether to butter my bread with my own knife or use a
communal knife that seemed to have disappeared from the butter
dish.

When the meal was done, the girls stood to clear away
the table, and out of fear I moved to do the same. Fannie stopped
me with a smile and a light touch on my shoulder.

"It is your first night with us, Katherine. You can
help with the drying of the dishes so you can find your way around
the kitchen. Do you like to cook?" she asked as she moved me
towards the deep wash sink.

"I do, actually. I don't know if anything I cook will
be acceptable though," I murmured nervously. My father had never
been very complimentary on my dishes.

She hugged me around the shoulders and handed me a
dishtowel.

"Well then, tomorrow you can spend the day with me
and I will show you the ways we cook. We will be busy in the next
few days, and your able hands will be most welcome. We have a
Frolic to prepare for!" she said happily and turned to the dishes,
washing and handing them to me as she finished.

"What's a Frolic?" I asked, feeling dumber by the
moment.

Emma moved in close and took the dishes from my hand
to put them away.

"A Frolic is a social gathering in our community. The
men help with a task while we arrange the food. The community comes
together for each other when one needs many hands," she
explained.

I nodded, thinking carefully of all the Amish
references I knew, which sadly were only from movies and
television. I remembered one movie my mom had watched when I was
young, with a number of men building a barn.

"So like a barn raising?" I suggested, smiling when
Emma's eyes lit up.

"Yes! Precisely! Day after next we go to help Elder
Wittmer clear his field and mend his fences. The rains and heavy
snow last winter caused much damage to his land," she
explained.

"And maybe someone will get to speak with young John
Wittmer," Hannah teased as she wiped away the remains of supper
from the table.

Emma frowned and looked away bashfully at mention of
this John Wittmer. Abigail giggled beside Emma and looked up at me
with a wide smile on her face as she relayed the story.

“John likes Emma but Emma will not talk with him,”
Abigail stated in a shrill voice until she noticed her mother’s
pursed lips and shake of her head.

“We do not discuss such things,” Fannie stated and
handed me another plate, the matter closed.

Talking about boys was obviously not something they
did, and I was sure there was some strict code to dating. I doubted
Amish teenagers made out in their buggies. Staying here, trying to
blend in was going to be a lot harder than I ever thought. I
somehow knew I would offend or embarrass the Bergers or myself
every time I opened my mouth. I wasn’t used to their pure ways.

My world was much different than theirs.

We finished with the dishes, and by the time we had
wiped down the table and counters, I could feel my eyelids
drooping. I doubted it was even past nine in the evening. Jonah
came in through the back door and clapped his hands together,
startling me back to wakefulness.

"Another beautiful day by God's graces. Let us turn
in and get some rest. Early day tomorrow!" Jonah said brightly and
ushered us up the stairs.

Emma and Abigail pulled me into the room I was to
share with them and began to undress for the night. Abigail was in
her small bed before I had even removed one hook to my dress, her
eyes already closed. I stalled my hands on my head cover as Emma
slipped her own off, revealing her hair to me. Thin and almost
black in the dim lighting, her hair was terribly short, with the
back much shorter than the sides, as if it didn’t grow at the same
rate or had been shaved at some point. I realized I was staring
when she turned, dragging her hands up to her head
self-consciously. I turned away, feeling awkward at her
embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," I stammered.

I felt her hand on my shoulder, turning me softly so
that I could look into her penetrating gaze.

"You have no need to be upset, Katherine. I feel so
close to you already, I forget you would not know. Come; let us
ready for bed and I will answer your questions. It is a bit of a
melancholy story to sleep to, but it must be told so you know me,"
she whispered and turned away to slowly remove the layers of
clothing she wore until she was down to her thin cotton shift.

I followed her routine, hanging my clothes on the
hook on the wall beside hers. I was learning that observation was
my ally in learning to blend in with the Amish. Dressed down to our
shifts, we slid into the small bed beside Abigail’s, the weight of
us making it creak in defiance. I settled on my side, Emma turned
towards me with her hands under her head as if in silent prayer.
She closed her eyes, as if collecting her thoughts before she
spoke, her voice whisper-soft.

"I was very sick, you see.”

Her eyes opened up but seemed to peer off away from
me, unfocused as if to remember her memory better.

“I was always a bit dreamy, often finding myself in
trouble with the schoolmistress for not paying attention. But
school bored me. I hardly ever paid attention, but still did well.
I did not talk much, but when I did it was often rushed and
difficult to understand. My thoughts worked faster than my mouth I
suppose. Some said I had demons, but it was not witchcraft," she
said, her eyes focusing on me pointedly for a moment until I nodded
and she continued.

"It was not until the pain and the vision problems
that my family understood that there was something truly affecting
me. The doctors in our district tried home remedies, but my vision
grew cloudier, the dreams more vivid until I thought they had truly
happened, and the pain in my head grew worse. It was then that we
finally sought an English doctor," she said softly, her eyes
closing.

"You guys don't go to our doctors regularly?" I
asked, clasping my hand over my mouth at how rude that had sounded
from my lips. "I'm sorry."

Emma’s smile seemed to brighten the dim room as she
giggled beside me. Abigail mumbled in her bed and we were quiet for
a moment before she settled into a steady breath once more fast
asleep. Emma let out a soft breath and looked back towards me.

"We do see your doctors. Do not be embarrassed. We
keep much of ourselves private. You will see. It is better to
handle our issues within the community, but sometimes, like with
me, we need Englisher aid," she explained and continued her
tale.

"The doctors listened to my ailments and offered a
grim prognosis. I had a brain tumor. They used their machines and
found it, a slow growing tumor in the top portion of my head. It
had spread towards the front over time, which explained the vision
loss and dreams.”

"I'm so sorry, Emma," I whispered.

I didn't know why I felt some kinship with this girl,
but her family had taken me in, she was telling me a private part
of her life. I knew that was special. As reserved as these people
were, they had shown me more of themselves than even my neighbors
whom I had known all my life. Emma had known me for a couple of
hours and already I felt a keen friendship forming. She pushed back
the hair that had tumbled across my cheek and smiled.

"I am well now. I had the surgery, and they removed
the tumor. You can feel the scar here," she said and lifted her
fingers to a small lump I could make out on the top of her head
above her ear.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, touching it tenderly with my
own fingertip.

"No, not anymore. But that was the easy part. The
medicine was the worst of it," she said and grimaced.

"You had chemo?"

It was so strange to think of the Amish undergoing
chemotherapy. But here was Emma, with her thin black hair that was
obviously just growing back from her recovery. I was discovering
that she was not so different from any of my friends back home.

"How long ago was this?" I asked.

"I took the last of the medicine four months ago. My
hair just started growing back about a month and a half ago," she
murmured and smoothed down her hair self-consciously.

"That must be a relief, though. To have it growing
back?" I asked.

She frowned and ran her fingers through her hair
repeatedly; in what I was discovering was her nervous tic.

"I only wish it would grow a little faster. I do not
look like a woman. I will not gain favorable attention like this,"
she mumbled, her eyes regretful.

I reached up slowly and touched her hair along the
side of her head, feeling how soft it was. I wondered if her words
were true. Did the men here look on women with judgment of their
beauty and nothing else? I had hoped that was untrue, just
something that Sean had always said to berate me when I didn’t look
good enough for him. I looked at Emma again, finding she really was
pretty, even with the short hair that was perhaps not the Amish
style. She looked like she belonged in a trendy club in a busy
city.

"I think it's beautiful. And it will grow back," I
said, smiling into her timid eyes. "Think of how much cooler it is
in this heat right now."

A small grin crept across Emma's face.

"I knew we were meant to be great friends. You see
the benefits in what God gives us. Thank you for helping me to see
that," she replied and leaned in to offer me a hug.

"Thank you for taking me in. I only hope I don't
embarrass you all," I replied, remembering the strange look the
man, Nathan, had given me.

"We have a few days to help you with that. And our
community is very welcoming. I think you will find you will have
many friends here by the end of our Frolic," Emma quipped.

I raised my eyebrow at her and shook my head.

"We'll see," I replied, skeptical. I had never made
many friends ever.

"Come, we need to sleep. Father will have us up for
the cows in no time," she murmured and yawned as if to illustrate
the point. Her yawn was contagious, reminding me of how long it had
been since I had had a good night’s sleep.

It had only been two days on the road. But it felt
like forever ago I had enjoyed a dreamless night. I shivered at the
idea of what my dreams would bring, and how Sean might never leave
me alone, awake or asleep.

I watched as she blew out the candle on the
nightstand, throwing us into the darkest night I had ever known. It
took several minutes until my eyes could adjust to the dim light,
my mind playing tricks by imposing images in the dark. Not the same
images that had haunted me for the last few days, these were
startling in a different way.

Deep green eyes and a strong back as it walked away
from me took me into my dreams.

Why did my mind linger on the stranger?

I had obviously offended him.

Not that it mattered; I would be gone in a few
days.

But his manner had me perplexed; his shy smile had
made me a little uneasy. My mind lingered on his face, his brief,
timid smile as he spoke to me those few moments and the sea green
eyes that drew me into his world. Everything else that had happened
to me over the course of the day drifted into oblivion.

But the Amish man, Nathan, haunted my dreams.

Katherine.

My name sounded strange coming from his lips. Sean
never called me by my formal name. Was he trying to trick me? Lure
me back?

Katherine.

I struggled against his iron grip, turning before he
could push me to the ground again. I felt him nudge me and I
whimpered, knowing that he was seconds from ripping at my clothes.
I had to get away. I looked around for anything to fight with,
freezing in fear when I saw a silhouette of a man behind Sean
coming towards us. The wide brimmed hat looked eerily familiar. The
light from the hallway caught a flash of green, and I was trapped
in the stranger’s stare. Warm and crinkling eyes offering me a way
from the biting grip on my body.

Help me.

"Katherine."

My eyes flew open and I sat up quickly, nearly
toppling out of the tiny bed that wasn’t my own. I wasn't home, and
it wasn't Sean’s voice that woke me. Looking around in the murky
darkness, I found Emma, fully dressed and pouring steaming water
into a basin on her vanity. I pulled my hand through my hair,
feeling disoriented and unsettled as I tried to get accustomed to
my surroundings. The culmination of the last few days swirled and
coalesced into muddled memories in my head in the form of my
nightmare. I could still feel Sean’s hands gripping my hips,
holding me still. I could still see green eyes staring down at
me.

Emma whispered my name again, shaking me out of the
dream still playing in my head.

"We have to get ready for the day, Katherine. There's
fresh water here for cleaning, and I have set out a new shift for
you to wear today. Do not dally. Father will have us looking after
the pigs if we are late."