Play It Again, Spam (29 page)

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Authors: Tamar Myers

Tags: #Mystery, #Humour

BOOK: Play It Again, Spam
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me in, you see. I know you won't believe this, Magdalena, but - "

"But it was love at first sight, right?"

"Ach, no! I was going to say I found peace here. Real peace. Something I never knew existed."

"Our father was a monster," Johanne said quietly.

"Remind me to bring violins next time, dear."

"Shut up and let my brother continue."

I looked at Sam. He was weeping again. "I learned about love here. Not just Amanda's love, but God's love. I learned how to

get along with other people. I learned how to love myself."

"So you had a religious experience? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yah, I think so. My life changed. I learned that I am nothing without God."

"He really believes this crap," Johanne said piteously.

I was flabbergasted. I believe in miracles, but transforming the Butcher of Tunis into a faithful Amish elder- well, that's a tall

order even for God.

"He raised six God-fearing children," I finally said, as much to sort things out in my head as to defend Sam. "And they have

how many children among them?"

"Forty-nine," Sam said, just a hint of English pride in his voice.

Johanne snickered. "Imagine that. Forty-nine little God-fearing nephews and nieces running around. Our Papa would be sick

if he knew."

"Actually, Sam's grandchildren are your grandnephews and nieces. And your papa sounds like he was a very sick man."

"No argument there," Johanne said. Sam said nothing.

I shook my head. "Wow, this is so hard to believe. I mean, didn't you feel guilty all these years?"

"Yah! Always guilty. But what was I to do? My Amanda - the children - they believed in me."

"You could have confessed your sin. You Amish are big on public confession, that much I know."

"Yah, but - "

"There's always a but," I said sharply. I knew, however, what he was driving at. Once Sam's terrible secret was revealed, his

family would never live it down. There would always be whispers and glances to deal with, new rumors to squash. And not

because the Amish are particularly virulent gossips - to the contrary, they are not - but because such behavior is human nature.

"Well, that's all water under the bridge now, isn't it? Johanne chuckled. "Or perhaps I should say, water over the mill wheel."

I glared at the fiend. Now that I'd had a few minutes to think about it, I realized that the mill stone was no threat to Strubbly

Sam. The sluice that directed the force of the stream to the mill wheel had been shut off for as long as I remembered.

It was my distinct pleasure to snort in derision. "Don't be ridiculous, dear. This mill hasn't been operating in years. Make that

dozens of years. If you pull that lever a six-foot rabbit might appear, but that's about all."

"Ah, that's what you think, Miss Yoder. For your information, I spent the afternoon repairing the wheel and removing the

sluice gate. Didn't you see the wheel turning?"

I couldn't recall. I had a memory of water, splashing in the moonlight, but it may have been from another time and place. Not

that it mattered, however, because I could definitely hear the water splashing now.

"So you got the wheel turning-big deal. That doesn't mean the stone will turn. The mill was abandoned, you know."

Sam closed his eyes. "Yah, the mill was abandoned, Big Magdalena, but not because it didn't work. The English grain

elevators are much more efficient."

"Still, it's been an awful long time. That wheel isn't going to budge an inch."

"And if the wheel does move," Sam said - and then, although his lips continued to move, he was silent. Frankly, he appeared

to be praying.

"Yes, brother? If the wheel does move, then you'll make a nice front doormat for my house in Pittsburgh."

Sam opened his eyes. He seemed strangely calm. "Yah, but you could kill all of us. You too."

Johanne said an expletive. It was the most vulgar word there is, and one Aaron used repeatedly.

Sam blinked in surprise. "Johanne, I speak the truth. These beams are rotten. There is much termite damage. If there is

strong vibration, the upper floor could fall on us."

Johanne used another expletive that was only marginally less offensive. "I don't believe that for a minute. You're just trying to

save your - "

"He's right, dear," I said. "Eli Yost over on Sticklegruber Road had his barn collapse on him."

"Is that so? Well, there's only one way to find out if this old building can stand the strain." With that, the diabolical Johanne

leaned on the lever.

I closed my eyes and prayed. First I prayed that nothing would happen. Then I prayed that if Strubbly Sam were to be

quashed flat as a crepe, it would happen quietly. "No crunching bones, Lord. And no screams. I don't think I could take either, and

we sure don't want to give Johanne the satisfaction, do we? And please, Lord, whatever you do, don't let the ceiling cave in and

kill us both. Someone has to turn the Nazi in, and besides, I got dressed in a hurry this morning and my underwear is full of holes."

But as I prayed those words the building began to shudder and groan. Even Mama, on her best days, can't produce that

amount of vibration by turning over in her grave.

"May the Lord have mercy on our souls!" I shouted. No one, including myself, heard my benediction. The accompanying

crash was heard and felt all the way over at the Stoltzfus farm, where the guests were still playing Rhythm. The cloud of dust,

however, was fortunately localized. I nearly choked to death, and couldn't draw a breatheable draught of air for what seemed like

hours, although it was probably just minutes. Still, I might do well to consider a career as a pearl diver off the coast of Japan.

At any rate, when I could breathe again, I opened my eyes. I cannot - I mean, I will not - describe in detail the scene I beheld

as the dust cleared. Let it be enough to know that a massive ceiling beam had fallen, and whether directed by God, or just by

chance, it had landed smack-dab on top of the nasty Nazi. Johanne Burkholder, alias the Scorpion, and recently known as John

Burk, was as dead as the flowers I sent Aaron on his birthday. The mill stone, on the other hand, had not budged an inch. Samuel

Friedrich Burkholder, now known as Strubbly Sam, was completely unscathed.

"Ach, you're alive, Magdalena." Thanks to the ropes, I couldn't pinch myself. I wiggled my toes and belched instead.

"Yes, I'm alive."

"It was a miracle, yah, Magdalena?"

"For us. Not for your brother, dear. I'm afraid he's dead."

"Ach!" Still tied to the wheel, Strubbly Sam could not see what I saw.

"I suppose I should say I'm sorry about your brother, Strubbly Sam."

"Yah, I'm sorry too. Not for me, but for him. Johanne did not repent."

"And you have?"

"Ach, a million times."

"That's a start, dear. Now, take a deep breath, because you and I are going to scream for help."

As we waited for help to arrive, I considered my responsibilities. There was one dead Nazi pinned to the floor of the mill -

actually, he was halfway through the floor, but I'll spare you the gruesome details - and one live ex-Nazi. The Scorpion may be

dead, but the Butcher lived on. But did he really? Johanne Burkholder may not have changed much over the years, but clearly

Samuel Friedrich Burkholder had. The young sadistic man who had been in charge of the Black Hole was no more. Inhabiting the

same body was a loving father and grandfather who had completely turned his life around. To turn Strubbly Sam in to the

authorities would result in punishing his family as much, if not more, than it would him.

"Strubbly, dear, what should I do?"

He seemed to read my mind. "Whatever you must do, Magdalena."

"That's Big Magdalena, dear. Now tell me, do you think you've made amends?"

"What is this 'amends'?"

"Do you think you've made up for the pain and suffering you caused?"

"Ach, no! There is no way to make up for that."

"But you've changed?"

"Yah. God changes the heart."

I pondered in dusty silence for several minutes.

"Why did you appear at the PennDutch the day your brother arrived in town? Were you expecting him?"

"Yah."

"He got in touch with you?"

"Ach, no! But I've been expecting him every day since I got to Hernia. The Bible says that our sins will catch up with us, yah?"

"Yah - I mean, yes. But how did you know he had finally caught up with you?"

"Ach, I didn't. Not at first. But I heard from Freni - and then Sam Yoder - that there were American soldiers coming to town,

so I kept my eyes open. I had this feeling, yah? And then I saw Johanne. He came to kill me, you know? All these years he

wanted to kill me if he found me - to keep his secret safe."

"And were you tempted to kill him?"

"Ach du leiber!" It was a cry of genuine distress, and I knew I had the answer to my underlying question.

"Well, Yoder, you have a lot of explaining to do." I would have glared at Police Chief Melvin Stoltzfus, but there was still dust

in my eyes. My bonds weren't even loose yet, for crying out loud, and he was making me accountable for the mill's collapse.

"Look, you two-bit - "

"I must say, I'm really impressed. But don't think I'm going to hire you on a full-time basis. For one thing, you're not properly

trained, and, as you well know, we don't have that kind of budget here in Hernia. And then there's the matter of a uniform - we

could never come up with one your size!"

"Very funny, Melvin. Sarcasm really becomes you, Now untie me."

"I really don't see what your point is, Yoder, since you'll be going straight to jail."

"Jail! Me? What for?"

"Duh - let's see. We have a corpse here, and we have you."

"And I'm tied up, you idiot. How can I be responsible for the corpse?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me? I ask you to help me look for Old Irma and you find a dead man. A dead man! Ask me if

I'm surprised," I blinked the last of the dust out of my eyes and stared at the knot of people standing in the shambles of the mill,

Besides Melvin, there was Bob, the cuddly Jimmy Hill, the handsome Scott Montgomery, and the cradle-robber Frank Frost.

"I'm not asking you anything, Melvin. I'm telling you to untie me."

Without further prompting from me, and with no apparent fear of Melvin, the men of the Forty-third tank brigade sprang into

action. Within seconds, Strubbly Sam and I were free.

I rubbed my sore wrists gingerly. "Thanks, guys. But what are you doing here?"

"Can it, Yoder. I ask the questions." Melvin focused one eye on Scott Montgomery, the other on Bob Hart. "Okay, so what are

you doing here?"

"It's a long story," Scott Montgomery said in his charming accent.

"We heard the crash," Bob said.

Frank nodded. "That's right. And someone said there was an old mill down in these woods - "

"Save it, boys," I smiled. "I was pulling your chains. I know what you're really doing here. Besides just keeping track of my

whereabouts, that is."

The former warriors looked like a herd of deer caught in my headlights.

"You came to Hernia to find the Butcher of Tunis, didn't you?"

Melvin had the nerve to chortle. "Don't be stupid, Yoder, Hernia doesn't even have a butcher.”

"It doesn't anymore." I had yet to look directly at the body of Johanne Burkholder, so I pointed in his general direction. "Well,

there he is folks, Samuel Friedrich Burkholder, the Butcher of Tunis."

Strubbly Sam gasped. "But I'm - "

"You're an Amish man with a heart of gold, dear."

"Ach, but - "

"And grandfather of six happy children, and forty-nine happy grandchildren."

"Yah, but - "

"And how many happy, innocent great-grandchildren, dear?"

"Nine," Strubbly Sam said. His eyes were full of tears again, Who knew that men could weep so much?

"What I don't get is," I turned to Bob, "how you knew the Butcher was here?"

"Ah, that. Well - "

Scott Montgomery blessed me with one of his glittering smiles. "Mind if I tell that?"

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