Brightest and Best (30 page)

That much was true. James had invited the group of Amish parents, both fathers and mothers, to meet at the new schoolhouse after the students left on Tuesday afternoon. Ella would stay for the meeting, but the children would go home from school and Tobias would stay within shouting distance while he did the barn chores. If something happened, Tobias could take a horse and gallop for help.

“Well, if you’re sure.” James kissed Miriam’s cheek.

“I was tired yesterday,” Miriam said. “Can’t a person take a nap without everyone declaring it a medical emergency?”

It was not just one nap. It was more and more naps. It was lost color in the face. It was a slower walk than James had ever seen in his spunky wife. But he knew when to keep his thoughts sealed.

“I’ll try to make the meeting short and to the point,” he said before leaving.

His extra moments with Miriam meant that when James arrived at the schoolhouse, parents already milled, awaiting someone who would take charge. Ella was dragging the smallest desks out of the way and encouraging parents to take seats in the desks large enough to accommodate them. Aaron King had thought to bring three of the church benches and was setting them up around the perimeter of the room.

“Shall we start as soon as everyone has a seat?” Ella asked.

The one person James most needed was nowhere in sight. James would have to do his best and hope the guest would still turn up.

Gideon took a seat in the front row, and Ella sat beside him. Behind them others quieted. James stood and faced the assembly and cleared his throat.

“We would all agree,” he began, “that the children of our church district are the future of our congregation. As a church, our obligation to them is to prepare them for eternal life in the kingdom of God. For this reason, the nature of their education is important to all of us.”

James paused and glanced out the windows behind the rows of parents. He assumed his guest would arrive in an automobile. The row of horses and buggies would assure him he had found the right location. James wasn’t sure how much further into the meeting he could go on his own.

“Although I am neither a father nor a minister,” James continued, “I want the best for our congregation. I want to know our children are on the path to salvation and not ensnared by worldly ways. For this reason, when Chester Mast began building this school that shelters us now, I was happy to help. Some of you have chosen to send your
kinner
here for Ella Hilty to be their teacher. Others are concerned about
English
retribution if your children do not attend their schools.”

The sound of an automobile caused a few heads to turn. James breathed relief.

“I have taken the liberty of speaking to an
English
attorney,” James said, “and I’m happy to see that he has just arrived. My hope is that he will help us understand the
English
system more fully.”

A car door slammed. Restless parents squirmed to see who would enter the building. James paced to the back of the room and opened the door.

“Thank you for coming,” James said softly.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Percival Eggar said. “These farm roads and oak trees all look very much alike. You really do ‘live apart.’”

James led the way to the front of the room. “This is Mr. Percival Eggar,” he said. “I met with him last week in his office, and I am confident that he can help us understand the risks and consequences of the choices fathers face as individuals, as well as our congregation, as we look for a way to stand together.”

Percival set a briefcase on Ella’s desk. “In my office, Mr. Lehman laid out for me the events to this point—the notices from the school district, the pressure to enroll your children in the consolidated schools in Seabury, the fines as a consequence of noncompliance, and the decision to open and operate this school as a private institution not subject to the regulations of the school district.”

Isaiah Borntrager raised a hand. James acknowledged it.

“Why do we need an attorney?” Isaiah said. “They’re our children, and we’ll do what we think is best for them.”

“I’m only here,” Percival said, “to help you understand your legal standing. I’m afraid the fines you’ve paid are only the beginning of your exposure.”

“The United States is a place of religious freedom,” Chester Mast said. “That’s all we’re doing with opening this school.”

Percival pointed at Chester. “That is exactly right. But the right to practice religion in a manner that conflicts with established law is bound to cause complications of interpretation.”

“Don’t we have a right to believe what the Bible says?” John Hershberger said.

“Of course you do,” Percival said. “The question is whether we can establish that your actions with regard to the education of your children fall into the category of religious belief. Some would argue that you are free to believe as you choose, but you still must obey the law.”

“If we hand our children over to the
English
school,” Chester Mast said, “we will lose the next generation of our church. We can’t separate how we interpret the Bible from how we educate our children.”

“James,” Aaron King said, “did you invite this gentleman because you believe we should take formal legal action? You know the way of our people is to stay out of the
English
courts.”

James nodded. “I do know. I hope and pray for a peaceful solution without compromising the Word of God.”

“They may not do anything more than occasional fines,” Cristof Byler said. “As long as we pay them, they’ll have no reason to bother us.”

“What about those of us who cannot afford the fines?” Aaron King said. “Don’t you think we’d like to have our children in our own school as well?”

Percival took a step forward. “I believe you should have that right, and I’m willing to help you fight for it.”

A lull descended as the hope offered by Percival’s pledge trickled through the assembly.

“If there can be peace in Europe,” James said, “surely there can be peace in Seabury.”

Isaiah grunted. “But at what cost did the peace in Europe come?”

Gideon twisted in his seat. He wanted to see the faces of the other parents. Before today there had been no discussion of involving an
English
lawyer. James had made these arrangements on his own, but when Gideon discovered what James had done, he did nothing to discourage assembling parents. This moment would be one they all remembered—the moment they did or did not engage the services of someone outside their own community.

Another
English
automobile announced its presence. While Gideon admired—from afar—the usefulness of a gasoline engine, it seemed to him that the
English
with all their education ought to find a way to make it less noisy. The sound was unnatural.

When Gideon saw who it was, he jumped up. A moment later, Superintendent Brownley shoved open the door.

“What in tarnation is going on here?” Brownley demanded.

“May we help you, Mr. Brownley?” Gideon said, calm and smooth.

“We’ll shut down this school,” Brownley said. “You’ve wasted your time and materials in building it.”

“If that’s what you’ve come to say,” Gideon said, “you can be assured we have heard you.”

Brownley strode along the side of the room. “What is this meeting about?”

“It’s a private meeting,” Gideon said, “on private property.”

Brownley’s eyes scanned the group. “It may not be illegal to build a structure on private property or to use it for private purposes, but you can be certain that using this building to keep pupils out of school will have repercussions.”

“Duly noted,” Gideon said.

“Furthermore,” Brownley said, “whoever is posing as a teacher is in a precarious position.”

Involuntarily, Gideon glanced at Ella, whose face paled.

“This so-called teacher will find herself in the middle of legal action if she continues without credentials,” the superintendent said. His eyes settled on Ella. “The state establishes certain minimal standards for all teachers.”

“Mr. Brownley,” Gideon said. “If you would be so kind as to make time at the next meeting of the school board, I’m sure we would be happy to continue this discussion in an appropriate setting.”

“Don’t threaten me!” Brownley said. “Remember that I have the law on my side.”

Percival Eggar stepped between Gideon and Brownley.

“What are you doing here?” Brownley asked.

“I will be representing the parties present. In the future you may address your concerns to my office.”

“You?” Brownley scoffed. “Are you telling me that the Amish are engaging legal representation?”

“We had not quite worked out the details of our arrangement before your unseemly interruption,” Percival said, “but now is as good a time as any.”

Brownley glared.

Percival turned to the assembly. “I would be honored to represent anyone present in this room on the questions of compliance with recent changes in education regulations as they pertain to the free expression of religious conviction. I’m sorry that I was not able to meet each of you individually before our conversation was disrupted, but if you would like to accept my representation, I ask you to signal your intention by standing.”

Gideon, already standing, stepped forward.

“This is absurd,” Brownley said.

Chester Mast stood, followed by Cristof Byler. Jed Hilty. Isaiah Borntrager. John Hershberger. Joshua Glick. Aaron King. One by one, every man in the room rose. Gideon worked hard at smothering a grin. The wives joined, standing with their husbands. Whether parents were sending their children to the schools in Seabury, keeping them home, or taking advantage of Ella’s tutelage, they were united on this question. They welcomed an
English
of Percival Eggar’s education and standing in the community to their side.

B
rownley glowered, first at Percival, and then at the fathers on their feet as most of the wives present also stood.

Was this what it was like to feel proud? Gideon had of course been pleased with the accomplishments of his children from time to time. When Tobias helped to deliver a new calf. When Savilla baked bread for the first time without consulting a recipe. When Gertie, only a few weeks ago, sounded out an entire verse from the morning Bible reading in German, even though at school she was learning to read English. But in those instances, and many others, he reminded himself of the border between
pleased
and
proud.
If he was proud, even of his children, he might begin to think himself better than others. But at this moment, seeing the parents of his congregation voting bodily, Gideon crossed the border. He was proud of their courage, proud of their resolve, proud of their resistance against their own inner fears.

Ella stood with the parents. This gave Gideon pure pleasure.

Percival gripped Brownley’s elbow and turned him toward the door. “I’m sure you understand the need for confidential conversation with my clients,” he said, walking Brownley out. “You and I will have ample opportunity to speak reasonably and honorably about the matter.”

Gideon caught James’s eye. If James had asked him in advance, Gideon might have cautioned against involving an
English
man of the law. But the trust Percival Eggar had engendered in a room full of Amish strangers was testimony that James had done well.

Percival closed the door behind Brownley and paced back to the front of the room.

“You all have work to do and families to care for,” he said, “so I want to make efficient use of our time. Mr. Lehman has given me a basic understanding of the dilemma you face and the range of responses represented in this room. I am happy to meet with any of you individually if you seek counsel about your particular circumstances. For now, I invite questions that may be of interest to the group as a whole.”

If Gideon were not sitting in the front of the room, he could have seen which hands were going up.

Percival pointed at a hand. “Yes?”

“What if we can’t find a teacher the state will accept?” Joshua Glick asked. “I want my children to go to an Amish school, but I also want it to be according to the law.”

So far, the Glick children had remained in the Seabury school. Joshua was one of the more cautious Amish fathers.

“I understand Mr. Wittmer has already begun making inquiries on that matter,” Percival said, “and on your instructions I will prepare additional documents and send them with a courier to the teachers college.”

Murmurs of approval circled the room.

“May I also suggest,” Percival continued, “that we explore alternative methods for how Miss Hilty may be properly credentialed for the position.”

Ella sucked in her breath beside Gideon. He slid his hand off his lap and let it rest on the edge of the chair until his little finger touched hers. Their wedding was only weeks away.