A Perfect Square (18 page)

Martha, Mary, and Leah were at the door when Joshua spied them and went running in their direction. “Do we have to take him with us?” Mary asked.

“How would you feel?” Martha asked.

It sounded to Esther as if Mary said, “I can’t win today.”

Hannah was content to remain in Esther’s lap. Everyone except Esther pulled out their quilts and began stitching while Deborah explained what had happened at the farm that morning.

“Were they still there when you left?” Melinda asked.

“
Ya
. It’s terrible. They even had the canine unit out.” Deborah shook her head as she pieced a blue triangle to a black one. Esther watched the familiar pattern fall into place and wondered why life couldn’t be as simple. Quilting made sense to her, had since she was a small girl learning the craft at her mother’s side.

Life though — for many years now life had been a puzzle.

It seemed as if Esther were caught in the impossible task of trying to piece together an unworkable pattern. No matter how much she focused, how hard she bent to her task, the pieces would not fit together. Oh, at times she might think she’d made progress, but in reality she’d made none at all. Like a quilt that couldn’t be finished.

Melinda rethreaded her needle. “I heard the girl was from Cedar Bend.”

“I don’t understand Shane Black at all.” Callie poked her needle through her material too roughly. “Why would he jump to the conclusion that Reuben had something to do with a girl missing from a different town?”

“Think about it, Callie. Maybe he didn’t have any choice. Maybe if a girl goes missing in the same area where a body has been found, they have to check it out.” Deborah didn’t look up as she spoke. “I’m not saying it’s right, but maybe that’s the way the
Englisch
system works. Suspicion by geographic proximity.”

Callie glanced up and immediately pricked herself with the
needle. Sticking her finger in her mouth, she grimaced. “Are you sure you don’t watch
CSI
?”

“C-S-who?”

“Never mind.”

“Esther, you’ve nothing to say on this?” Melinda pushed back from the quilt stand and reached for her tea.

“What is there to say? A week ago all was well. Then I stumbled on a dead body, my soon-to-be-cousin was arrested for murder, I learned we’re to live somewhere else, and now there may be another body buried on the land. As soon as I speak, something else will happen. Best I hold Hannah and keep my peace.”

Esther was painfully aware the others were all staring at her, so she kept her eyes on Hannah’s perfectly arched eyebrows, tiny nose, and two fingers still firmly stuck in her mouth.

“I believe she’s in shock,” Deborah murmured.

“Who could blame her?”

“Shane should be ashamed of himself.” Callie reached for the Band-Aids she kept in her sewing supplies and slapped one on her finger, then resumed sewing the pieces of her lap quilt together again — each stitch larger than the last. “I have a mind to find him and talk to him. He might think that he can push you around because you’re Amish women, but that doesn’t make you stupid, and it doesn’t mean you don’t have rights. He needs to watch who he’s messing with.”

She snipped off her last stitch and glared at Deborah and Esther. “What else were they doing other than searching with the dogs?”

Deborah glanced uneasily at Esther. “Might as well tell her.”

“They were going through the house and the barn, dredging the pond again, and searching the silo — “

“He can’t do that!”

“But he can, Callie. He had the official papers signed by the court. Officer Taylor was there and showed us the forms.”

Callie stuck her needle inside her fabric and stood, now thoroughly agitated. “Did he even look anywhere else? Doesn’t he have other suspects? I bet they don’t have a single stitch of proof Reuben knew that girl from Cedar Bend — “

Esther looked up when Melinda and Deborah began to giggle.

“I can’t imagine anything funny.” Callie placed her hands on her hips. “Honestly, this is very serious. You need to learn to stand up for yourselves — “

“No, Callie. It’s not about the officers.” Deborah pointed to Callie’s sweater, which now had the quilt top sewn to it in giant, loopy, uneven stitches.

“Well, good grief!” Callie flopped into her chair. “I can’t concentrate is all.” She took up her scissors and began snipping.

“Not that way. Let me show you.” Esther moved over, still carrying Hannah. “When you remove stitches, it’s best to use a seam ripper so you don’t mistakenly cut the fabric.”

She popped the first stitch with the small red tool, then handed it to Callie so she could do the rest.

“I’m betting you never sewed anything to your apron,” Callie muttered.

“Actually, I sewed one of Seth’s socks to my nightgown when we were first married.” Esther smiled at the memory, surprised to find there was no pain in the remembering. “This was before I was pregnant with Leah, and I was determined to finish the sewing before bed, but Seth … Seth had other ideas.”

Esther felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I was trying to hurry, and I darned it right to my gown.”

The room grew quiet, each woman lost in their own thoughts, Esther lost in another place and another time. She placed Hannah on the quilt, on her back since she’d fallen asleep. They all resumed their sewing, and when Callie had removed the rest of her stitches, she turned to Esther. “Deborah is always saying that God has a perfect plan for each of us, that he has a hope and a future planned out for us. Do you believe that?”

Esther pulled in a deep breath, found that the sewing had soothed her nerves, as it always did. She didn’t answer Callie’s question immediately, searching her heart first — searching through the heartaches and fears and doubts. “It’s what I’ve been taught since I was a
kind.
What we’ve all been taught.”

“
Ya
, our training has been gut,” Melinda murmured.

“I do believe the Lord’s Word,” Esther continued. “But when my heart hurts, as it does today, I have to wonder if his plan doesn’t include a bit more refining and learning than I would have chosen. I have to wonder if there couldn’t have been an easier way. I wonder why.”

Esther wouldn’t have spoken such truth to anyone else, probably not to her own
mamm
, but somehow, here in this circle of friends, in this circle of sewing, it seemed all right to give voice to the hurts that ached like a tooth gone bad.

The thing that helped, the thing she would have liked to thank them for, was that they did not argue with her.

Then the door opened and the children were tumbling into the room, full of life and energy and smiles and hope.

It wasn’t until they were leaving that Deborah asked Callie what her news was. “When we arrived, you said you had something to talk to us about.”

“Oh, yes.” Callie tucked her hair behind her ears. She seemed to hesitate, glanced around the room and finally stared down at the dog. When she looked up a smile played across her lips. “I went to see that old man I told you all about.”

“The one who was confused?” Melinda turned and looked back, her eyebrows popped up over her glasses in surprise.

“Yes. His name is Ira. His story about his daughter is actually quite interesting. It’s all tied into a terrible tragedy, something about tornadoes that struck here in Shipshe.”

“That would be the Palm Sunday Tornadoes.” Deborah pulled Joshua’s cap more firmly down over his ears. “It was a terrible
time, Callie, but interesting history. You can go to the library or the visitors’ center and read the details — there’s even a display.”

Stepping closer to Callie, she added, “But stay focused on helping Reuben. One mystery at a time is enough.”

Callie hugged each of them as they passed through the door of the shop. Esther waited until last. She thought of how it had been her habit to stand back when the time for parting came, how she dreaded when everyone embraced because she couldn’t stand to have her isolation breached.

It was too late for that though.

The bubble she’d built around herself after Seth’s death had been popped, and it seemed there was no going back. She felt Callie’s arms around her, breathed in the scent of her floral perfume — light but enough to make Esther smile. If Esther knew her flowers, and she did, there was a bit of daisy in the fragrance.

Englischers
had such interesting ways.

Spring flowers in the fall.

Still, it was a nice reminder that spring would come again.

D
EBORAH ARRIVED HOME
in plenty of time to make dinner — at least she would have, if it hadn’t been for her children.

She left the buggy parked near the front of the barn.

“Martha, would you run in and tell your
dat
we’re home? I need him to unhitch Cinnamon for me, as I believe Joshua’s had a bit of an accident.”

“It smells terrible, Mamm.”

“Yes, well, I think he has a bit of diarrhea.” Lifting him off the backseat of the buggy there was a big sucking sound, followed by Martha and Mary clambering over each other to see who could exit the buggy the fastest.

Martha stepped away as Joshua began to cry and rub at his eyes. “I knew it smelled bad, but when you picked him up you released something awful.”

Deborah held him at arm’s length, trying not to soil her dress.

“Martha, go and tell your
dat
the mare needs unhitching. Mary, I want you to go and find a rag and a pail and clean up the mess on the backseat.”

“Why do I have to do it? I’m only a little kid, barely old enough to — “

“Would you rather clean up your
bruder
?” Deborah thrust Joshua toward her.

“No,
Mamm.
I’ll fetch the bucket.” Mary disappeared faster than a fresh-baked pie on a Sunday.

Martha was giggling as she walked away.

“Hurry, Martha. I’m going to need your help with dinner. I believe he’s only teething, but let’s take him in and take his temperature to be sure. Either way, we’re in for a night.”

“I’ll run.”

Deborah thought of stripping her youngest one’s clothing off outside, but the weather had turned colder with the clouds, and soon it would be dark. As she hurried inside and set Joshua in the tub, tugging off his soiled clothes, then filling the sink with warm water and wetting a cloth, she thought of Esther’s words earlier. God’s plan did seem to include a bit more refining and learning than any of them would have chosen. Often she wondered why life took turns through rough weather.

Why couldn’t things be easier?

Tonight certainly wasn’t the best time for a sick
boppli.

But when was a good time?

Then again, her problems were nothing compared to Esther’s. The thought was a sobering one. She finished cleaning Joshua, then lifted him out of the tub, his cries now little whimpers. Pressing her lips to his forehead she was relieved to feel its coolness.

Perhaps he was merely teething, but she would insist everyone drink orange juice tonight nonetheless. A good dose of vitamin C to chase away the germs of winter.

If only every ill could be cured as easily.

Thirty minutes later, Martha had heated the stew left over from two days ago. Deborah took the fresh bread out of the oven — bread her mother had been kind enough to send along.

“
Grossmammi
makes the best bread,” Mary said.

“That she does,” Deborah agreed. She’d just placed it on the
table along with a plate of fresh-cut fruit for dessert — it was as good as orange juice — when there was a loud commotion at the backdoor.

“What now?”

“It’s not Joshua. I checked on him. He’s been asleep since you rocked him.” Martha followed her to the back porch, where the last of the day’s light fell on her two sons.

“Jacob and Joseph. Dinner’s ready. Whatever you’re doing there, finish with it and come in.”

“Sure thing,
Mamm.
We’re just about done.”

“Just about isn’t what I asked.”

She was turning away when she caught sight of something large and close to the ground, something with a snout.

Reversing directions, she pushed open the screen door and walked out onto the back porch.

“Can you tell me why there are two pigs here?”

“They’re not just any pigs,” Jacob explained.

“They’re our new pigs.” Joseph continued hammering a board onto the front of the crate — a crate that was beginning to look suspiciously like a doghouse.

“Why — “ Deborah stopped, closed her eyes and counted to three. When she opened them, the pigs were still there, this time staring right up at her. “Why are they not in the barn?”

“Funny thing.” Jacob rubbed at a bit of mud that was smeared across his right cheek. “These two don’t take to the mud very well. Maybe that’s why we got them so cheap.”

“
Ya
. The man
Dat
bought the pigs from allowed as they were a bit peculiar.”

“Boys. These pigs cannot live outside my backdoor.”

Joseph stopped hammering, and Jacob stopped scratching. At the exact same moment in the exact same tone, they said: “Huh.”

Then Joseph picked up another nail and went back to whacking it with the hammer, this time on top of the crate, and Jacob
reached a hand up to scratch underneath his wool cap, where there was more mud, no doubt.

“No. No, no, no. Stop what you’re doing this very minute.” Deborah felt a meltdown coming. She didn’t have them often, and she wasn’t proud when she did. But one was headed toward her boys now. “I want this crate and these — these pigs off my back step and in the barn this very minute. Do you understand me?”

“But — “

“No buts. I want no argument. I want it done, and I want you back in this house in less time than it takes for me to fill the dinner glasses with water. I want you to be so fast that those pigs will think they’re flying. Am I being perfectly clear? Doesn’t matter to me if they’re in the mud or beside the mud or across the creek from the mud. You can make them mud pies and serve it to them for breakfast, but I will not have them sleeping outside my backdoor.”

Her voice had risen and she’d gained speed as she’d lectured them until she’d felt like the train that sometimes traveled past the market in Shipshewana.

The boys were staring at her now like she’d sprouted wings herself. Their eyes were wide, and they didn’t seem to know whether they should continue listening or start moving the two pigs.

Fortunately for them, Jonas showed up. “Sounds as if your
mamm
wants the pigs moved.”

“Yes,
Dat.
”

Jacob opened the crate’s door, and Joseph led the two pigs out. Deborah was able to see, now by the light of the kitchen’s gas lamp since it was beginning to grow dark, that they’d used two of the lead ropes for the horses and tied them around the pigs like they were dogs.

While Joseph walked toward the barn leading the pigs, Jacob struggled with the crate, alternately pulling and pushing it.

Deborah watched, her pulse slowly returning to normal, the heat of her anger cooling.

Jonas didn’t mention her temper. He smiled, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and said, “At least the bacon would have been close to the kitchen.” Then he walked inside to clean up for dinner.

It wasn’t until well after midnight, when she’d been up with Joshua twice and had finally tumbled back into bed only to toss and turn, that Jonas pulled her into his arms and asked her what was wrong.

“Probably just that I’m tired.” She fought to keep the tears out of her voice.

“I’ll get up with him next time. I can hear his cries as well as you can.” He brushed the tears from her face with his thumbs and kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not, Deb, but I don’t think it’s the babe’s teething or the boys’ pigs that’s causing you to cry.”

She blubbered then, soaking his nightshirt. He didn’t tell her to stop, didn’t rush her through it. He also didn’t ask any more questions. When she’d finally rung herself dry, he rolled over onto his back, and she cuddled up beside him.

“I always found a good cry to be beneficial myself.”

Slapping him across the stomach, she tried to smile in the darkness, but she felt too raw for that.

“Jonas Yoder, I’m betting you’ve never cried a day in your life.”

“Not true. I cried when I was eight, when the doc had to cut a fish hook out of my hand. I cried when my
grossdaddi
died, and I cried when Martha was born. Those are only the times that come to mind.”

“We were so young then.”

“That we were. You’re not worried about Joshua are you?”

“No. I can feel the swollen places on his gums. Poor guy is miserable, but the Tylenol is helping. He’ll be fine once they break through.”

“That’s
gut.
Soon he’ll be plowing the fields with me. He’s going to be a strapping young man, just like his older
bruders.
”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at Jacob and Joseph so.”

“Maybe you were a bit harsh with them, but who wants to hear pigs squeal while they’re eating?”

Though the room was pitch dark, not even a sliver of a moon peeking in through the windows, Deborah could feel Jonas smiling. She could also feel the sadness descending over her like a blanket as she wondered whether she should share the reasons for her previous tears.

Jonas must have sensed her hesitation, because he turned toward her in the darkness.

“I love them so much, Jonas. The idea that anything might happen to them or anything might happen to you … I don’t know how I would handle it.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“Esther didn’t expect to lose Seth, but she did. Melinda didn’t expect to have a sick child, but look at Aaron.” Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. “And Reuben most certainly did not kill that girl. Still, he sits in a prison, maybe for the rest of his life. When I think of all the things that could happen to us — “

“Whoa there. You’re losing me, love. What do all of these things have to do with us?”

“Don’t you see? That’s what each of those people thought, until it happened to them. That’s what Reuben was probably saying two weeks ago.” She began to shake, and Jonas once again put his arms around her, this time rubbing her back and pulling the blankets around them.

When she quit shaking, he spoke slowly, quietly. “Deborah, I know your faith is strong.”

“Yeah, but so is theirs.”

“So it’s not a question of faith that you have.”

“No. It’s a question of why.”

“Let me ask you a question instead. How much do you love Jacob and Joseph?”

“Jonas — “

“Answer the question.”

“You know I love them more than myself. I would do anything for them.”

“And yet you still forced them to move the pigs this afternoon, which actually crushed a little bit of their six-year-old hearts.”

“Yes, to teach them.”

“As God does with us.”

Deborah shook her head in the darkness, but didn’t speak.

“Esther’s troubles and the boys’ are nowhere near the same. But your love for the boys and God’s love for Esther is similar.”

“
Ya
, I suppose.”

“Only similar, Deb. We must remember that, because we can’t begin to imagine how much he loves us.”

She drew in a shaky breath, considered for a moment what he said. “I know what you’re saying is true, but Tuesday Esther said it seemed as if God’s hand came down and wiped away her happiness. When I told her God wasn’t like that, she asked me how I would know. Which started me to thinking, how would I know? And what, what …” The tears started streaming down her face again, but she pushed her words through them, “What would my faith be like if I did know. If I had lost one of the children or you.”

“Ah, finally.” Jonas combed his fingers through her hair, kissing her temples as he did.

“Finally?”

“Finally we’re to what is truly weighing on your heart.”

“You never think of it?”

“Of course. I suppose everyone does. At every funeral and every birth.” Deborah waited for him to say more, becoming aware of the winds picking up outside their window.

When she thought he wouldn’t add anything else, he bent
over her in the darkness, found her mouth with his, and kissed her more gently than a sunrise spreading its light across the field on a fall morning.

“Always when I think of it, my answer is the same. If I only had one day with you, Deborah. If I only had one day with any one of our children, I would still count myself the most blessed of men. Would I hurt? Yes. Would I feel loss? Yes. But I’d rather have that one day, or one year, or a dozen, than to spend my life without any of you.”