Abigail's New Hope (31 page)

“Don’t be ridiculous. Kids never forget their mothers.” Rachelle handed Abby a box of Kleenex and then moved the wastebasket next to her legs.

“But they change so much within a few months. What will they be like in several years? The best times of their childhood will pass by while I’m locked up.” Abby pulled out several more tissues.

Rachelle pondered this and frowned. “That really does stink, so you can’t think about the future. Stay focused on the moment. Isn’t that what Dr. Phil always says?”

Abby didn’t know a Dr. Phil. She sighed and glanced around the tiny room. “Stay focused on
this
moment?”

Rachelle’s gaze traveled the same path. “I meant you should concentrate on remembering the details from their last visit. And wasn’t that your sister today? Think about the stories she told you about home. Picture it all in your mind. Don’t let yourself think too far ahead.” She gave Abby’s shoulders a shake and smiled. “Okay?”

Abby nodded. “Good advice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I believe you were going to read until dinner.” Rachelle retrieved Abby’s Bible from the ledge. “I’ll watch TV in the common room to give you peace and quiet until it’s time to eat.” She flashed a toothy smile and sauntered out, closing the door behind her.

Abby watched the doorway long after she’d gone, composing herself. Then she wiped her face and opened the Good Book. The photo of Laura and Jake fluttered out. She stared at their faces until love replaced her sorrow and then tucked the picture away.
No Old Testament wars or tribulations today
. She needed some of the advice Jesus gave His apostles and they, in turn, imparted to the early Christians. She turned to the book of Ephesians and started to read. Before long, her eyes fell on chapter 5:22-23: “Wives, this means submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For a husband is the head of his wife as Christ is the head of the church…”

She stopped reading. There it was—specific instructions that she should listen to Daniel and take his advice. Yet she had refused to do so. Her reasons were valid. Her motivations to protect another person seemed sound, but maybe every sinner trotted out excuses for his or her behavior. Daniel had the responsibility to follow Scripture and their
Ordnung
. She only had the responsibility to follow him. But could it be that simple? In this day and age, could a wife, even an Amish wife, blindly do whatever her spouse instructed? Rachelle would laugh at such an old-fashioned notion, but would her
mamm
? Abby thought about how her
mamm
enjoyed far more serenity compared to her own turbulent life. Her
mamm
trusted her
daed
, and trusted that God wouldn’t allow a Christian husband to stray too far from the path.

Once again Abby stretched out on her bunk and clutched her Bible to her chest. But instead of weeping uncontrollably, racked with physical pain besides emotional turmoil, she closed her eyes and stilled her brain, forcing thoughts of any kind away. Quiet suffused her soul.

All Scripture is inspired by God
, she remembered.
Make it your goal to live a quiet life
.

Bits and pieces of Bible verses she’d learned over the years flitted into her mind and out again as she silently prayed for direction. She asked for God’s grace to fill her heart.

Her headache diminished and then vanished altogether. Moments later, she drifted into blissful, dreamless sleep.

“Abby, wake up.” Someone’s voice pierced the calm place where Abby dwelled. She clamped her eyes tightly shut to block out the intrusion.

“Please get up. You have to see this!” The insistent voice grew louder while somebody worked her arm like a hand pump.

She opened one eye to peer up at Rachelle. “What is it that can’t wait until morning?” she asked softly.

“Morning is a long way off. I let you sleep through dinner and brought you back a sandwich. I know you are exhausted, but I can’t let you miss this.” She pulled again on Abby’s hand. “Come take a look.”

Abby swung her legs off the bunk, licking her lips and swallowing to try to moisten her parched throat. She rose to her feet to follow her roommate. Rachelle was already at the window, looking down on the street below. Abby heard the faint sound of hymns before she reached the tinted glass.

Lining the sidewalk, two and three people deep, Amish men and women stood shoulder to shoulder, their voices raised in song. Each person held a candle, and the flickering light along with the yellow streetlight cast shadows across their faces. Yet, even poorly illuminated, the crowd seemed to be focused on
their
window. Abby stared, unable to make sense of what she saw. Her chest lifted and fell with each breath as she mutely watched.

“Don’t you get it?” asked Rachelle. “Those people have come to Wooster to support you.” Her grin filled her face. “It’s a candlelight vigil in your honor.” She hooked her arm around Abby’s waist.

Abby leaned closer, her nose nearly pressing against the windowpane. “Can they see me?”

“I don’t think so. This tinted glass makes it tough to see in even though we can see out.”

“Then how do they know I’m in here?” The idea that these people had come to town on her account was baffling.

“Some guard probably told them your cell number. Then it’s not hard to count the windows. This isn’t exactly the state pen.” Rachelle leaned on the glass and appeared to be counting. “Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven…looks like almost fifty people are down there.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as the throng began another hymn, this one louder and more upbeat.

Abby recognized “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” and felt a surge of joy. It was one of her favorites. “But
why
have they come? I’m nothing more than a common criminal. I did exactly what the judge accused me of.”

“You had your reasons and they must know that. I heard that you Amish stick together—helping out and supporting each other. So that’s what they’re doing. You seem surprised.”

Abby met her roommate’s gaze. “I am surprised. I’ve received no Amish visitors other than my husband and sister. My father is our district’s bishop, but he hasn’t come to see me. I took that to mean the members of my district had turned their backs on me.”

Rachelle rubbed her sleeve against the glass, clearing away some condensation. “Looks like you figured it wrong. The crowd is growing. A bunch of English women have joined them now.”

“My
daed
,” whispered Abby, thinking aloud. “I wonder if my
daed
is down there?” With only candles and the thin streetlight, it was hard to recognize anyone. Abby stared, holding her breath. She focused on several taller figures in the back row who were drifting in and out of the light. Then suddenly she spotted the long, snowy beard of her father and the distinctive broad shoulders and long neck of her
ehemann
. His floppy hat brim gave him away. “It’s them—Daniel and my father. They have come to the vigil.” A lump the size of a boulder formed in her throat.

“See, it’s always darkest before the dawn…or something like that.” Rachelle pulled something from her pocket. “You need to eat while you watch to keep your strength up. You must be hungry.”

“Thank you, Rachelle. You’ve been a good friend. I’m in your debt.” Abby unwrapped the ham-and-cheese sandwich.

“It’s not much, but when this is all over with, maybe you can teach me how to knit someday. I always wanted to learn that.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Abby took a bite and then ate ravenously, her appetite returning.

The two women kept their own vigil by the window for almost an hour. Abby’s spirits soared hearing the voices lifted in song and prayer. When the assembly finally blew out the candles and began to disperse, she waved her hand frantically, despite Rachelle’s comment that no one could see inside.

Folks came from Shreve to Wooster…for me
.

She felt unworthy of their support and yet so grateful. The tall man with floppy hat brim had been in the last group to leave. He didn’t extinguish his candle while on the sidewalk, but had walked away with it still burning. Abby stared at the small yellow glow until it disappeared around the corner.

That night after lights-out, she lay in bed with a sense of peace and sent prayers of thanks to the Great Physician, who knows our needs even before we do. She had a lot to be grateful for and much to contemplate. Before she drifted back to sleep, her path at last became clear.

Of all the days for Daniel to finish work in the fields early, this had to be the worst. Catherine couldn’t believe it when she spotted him walking toward the porch from the pump house. He had rolled up his sleeves, and his arms, face, and hair were dripping wet. That could only mean he’d finished for the day. She was elbow-deep in cornmeal, battering chicken to fry. The green beans still needed to be cleaned and potatoes boiled for potato salad. At least she’d washed fresh greens and chopped garden vegetables for a tossed salad. She sighed while moving the coffeepot onto the burner to reheat.

“
Guder nachmittag
,” he said upon entering the kitchen. Daniel grabbed the towel to dry his face and hands.

“Good afternoon to you. I saw you in Abby’s flower garden earlier. What were you doing out there? I thought you once said that flowers were women’s business.” She glanced up while pouring oil into her skillet.

“I wanted to cut back her rhododendrons and azaleas. It needed to be done before they set buds for next year. My
fraa
sets great store by those flowers.” He tossed the towel down on the counter.

“If there’s still more work in the garden, we have plenty of time before dinner. It won’t be ready for another hour.”

“No, I’m done for the day. I’ll just relax for a while, maybe read to my
kinner
in the front room.” He offered her a pleasant smile.

She pondered the best way to approach a delicate subject. “Were you still moving hay bales today?”

“
Jah
. Isaiah and I stored what we could fit in the barn loft. The rest we lined up close to the pasture gate and covered with plastic.”

Catherine arranged breaded chicken pieces in the frying pan and then turned up the burner. “Isaiah works hard for you? He has no problems understanding the chores?”

Daniel poured coffee into a mug. “He does just fine. You only have to show him a task once and he remembers. People don’t give that boy enough credit.” He added a splash of milk and sipped with appreciation.

“He’s not really a boy anymore, is he?”

“I s’pose not. He must be twenty-four or thereabouts.” Daniel pulled sagely on his beard. Plenty of gray peppered his shade of dark brown.

“But I’m sure there are some chores you don’t dare allow him to do alone, like feeding cornstalks into the grinder for silage, for instance. That could be dangerous. A person could lose a hand if they didn’t understand the machinery.” She continued coating pieces of chicken without meeting his gaze.

“Isaiah comprehends as well as anybody else. Accidents can happen to anybody, but there’s nothing slow-witted about that man’s mind. Offhand, I can’t think of any job I wouldn’t trust him with. Some just require two people.”

She looked him in the eye. “So Isaiah has learned everything he needs to about farming?”

“He knows enough to get by.”

“And he obviously understands construction.”

“His cabin isn’t exactly a five-bedroom house with attached
dawdi haus
, but
jah
, he knows how to put…and fix…the roof over his head.” Daniel rubbed his chin. “What’s on your mind, Catherine? If you have something to say, I wish you would spit it out.”

“Well, because, other than his deafness, Isaiah is just as bright as any average person. I don’t see why he should be ostracized from his kin.” She deftly flipped the browned chicken in the skillet.