The Miting (27 page)

Three weeks passed quickly, and in that time Leah had applied for a social security card, filed for a copy of her birth certificate, and written her parents. She broke down, too, and sent a letter to Jacob. She wanted to explain her sudden decision, though not hearing from him made her hesitate as she placed the stamp on the envelope. Maybe he had decided she was not worth thinking about after all. One morning she asked Hannah if she minded taking her out to her folks’ place to try to get some of her belongings.

“Are you sure you want to do that, Leah?”

“I wrote
Maem
and
Daet
a letter to ask if it would be okay.”

“Did they answer you?”

“Well, no.” Leah shook her head, sadness filling her as she admitted they ignored the letter.

“Do you think they’ll let you come anyway?”

She sighed. “I really don’t know, but I sure would like to get my personal things, and it would be nice to see them again.”

Hannah’s gaze scanned Leah’s while she pondered. “Okay. We might as well see what happens.”

The drive to her parents’ place took longer than Leah remembered, giving her time to imagine the family’s reactions. Her stomach churned as she thought of the ways they could still hurt her with their rejection. Would
Daet
yell? Would
Maem
cry? She felt sure Benny would welcome her, but how about Ada? She’d been so cold in the days leading up to Leah’s departure; she couldn’t believe her sister may have changed her attitude since she’d left.

They pulled into the drive as Leah’s eyes swept the yard and barn area. She saw no sign of activity, but nothing was out of place, either. In fact, the familiar scene startled her with its sameness. After all she’d been through, it was hard to believe life had gone on here as it always had. Her absence hadn’t seemed to matter.

Hannah braked and shut the motor off. Leah heard a few chickens squawking and a cow lowing in the pasture. The stillness settled over her like a shroud. It felt heavy and thick, stifling her ability to breathe freely. She got out and crunched her way through the gravel to the porch. She knocked, feeling silly to be standing like a visitor at the front door of her own home. Soon she heard footsteps approaching from within.
Maem
opened the door. Her eyes reflected surprise, but she stood back, silently, to let Leah inside, though not before a quick, disapproving glance at her daughter’s
Englisher
jeans and coat.
Maem
backed into the living room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She still said nothing.

“Uh—
Maem
, I’m glad you let me in. How are you and
Daet
?”

Maem
looked down at her shoes, not answering and not moving.

Leah swallowed. This was going to be as hard as she imagined it would be. “Did you get my letter?”

Maem
nodded.

“Do you think it’s okay for me to go up and get some of my things?”

Again, her mother nodded, but immediately turned away and hurried back to the kitchen. Leah trudged up the stairs, her gaze resting on each polished step as she ascended. Nothing had changed.

Her old bedroom door was shut tight. She turned the knob and heard it squeak the way it always had. No covers were on her bed. The room was barren and swept clean. The dresser top was stripped of her brush and comb, the stack of books she’d been reading, and the stationery set she’d kept there. It was as if she had never lived here.

In a daze, she roamed the room, pulling open drawers and gathering underwear, socks, and gowns. At least they hadn’t gotten rid of those. She’d imagined everything being tossed onto a burning heap. She couldn’t find her books or the stationery set, but she did find the comb and brush placed neatly in a drawer.

Her meager belongings made a small pile on the bed, but she couldn’t find the Gideon Bible. It was one object sure to be destroyed, and its loss brought a deep sadness.

She collected her things into a plastic grocery sack she’d wadded in her pocket before they left the apartment. One bag fit it all.

Leah made her way carefully down the steep stairs and went quietly to the kitchen door to say good-bye to
Maem
. She was sorry neither Ada nor Benny was around.

“Is
Daet
in his shop?” she asked
Maem
with a nod toward the back yard.

Maem
stopped stirring what looked to be jam in a huge pot, but remained mute. She was frozen to her spot, unable or unwilling to do more than breathe while Leah was in the room. Her arm was suspended over the pot, stiff and unnatural in its pose. Her shoulders were tight but her face was hidden from Leah’s line of vision.
Maem
’s body trembled, but still she didn’t speak.

Leah couldn’t help herself.
Maem
’s pain over seeing her again broke her heart, and Leah moved softly over to touch
Maem
’s back. “Please, can’t we chat a minute or two before I have to leave? I’ve missed you all so much.”

Leah’s voice broke the spell, and
Maem
whirled, throwing the long-handled ladle into the pot of boiling jam. She glared as she pushed away from Leah and slammed out the back door. The screen door bumped against the frame a few times,
Maem
’s fury giving it energy to spare.

In the stillness that followed, Leah heard the clock ticking and the jam roiling, but it was her turn to stand frozen to the spot. She couldn’t believe how far her family was prepared to go to let her know of their disapproval. Slowly she gathered her wits and the sack of belongings and turned to leave.

Just before Leah shut the front door, she whispered a prayer into the room. “Lord, keep my family safe, and work in their hearts to want to know You. Help them forgive me and help them to know how much I still love them.”

Hannah didn’t press her when Leah returned to the car minutes later. Leah kept her eyes on the floor of the car as they pulled away from the home place. She couldn’t say good-bye a second time.

More days passed, and Leah tried hard to fit in and keep busy. She attended church with the Schrocks, but in spite of the newfound freedom she was enjoying, she grew increasingly depressed. She struggled to sleep, lying awake in the early hours thinking of home and family.

Though she was growing in her knowledge of God and His grace, Leah still felt overwhelmed with adult responsibility and being completely alone. She teetered between feeling gratitude to the Schrocks and her roommate, Hannah, and all they were doing for her, and feeling that she had no one. Panic rose every time she stopped to think about navigating her future without the structure she had always known.

At night she thought of the letters that she’d heard in the Amish church services, read as warnings to those who were tempted to leave the Amish faith. She wondered if the contents in those letters lingered in other former Amish minds the way they lingered in hers. Was she being punished? Should she go back?

Eventually, the endless questions and homesickness began to take their toll. She lost weight and even more sleep. She read the little blue Bible every day, but still, the peace she started with began to fade slowly away. What should she do?

Leah was washing dishes one Sunday afternoon in mid-December when she heard the doorbell ring upstairs. Naomi and Matthew were in New York for a presentation of the MAP ministry at a church there, so she dried her hands and climbed the steps to answer the door.

A young girl, younger even than Leah, stood on the porch, a ragged suitcase in one hand, and a plastic grocery bag in the other. She wore an old winter coat that hung unevenly to the top of her ankles. “Can I help you?”

“Is this the Schrock house?”

Leah took in the faded jeans and scrubbed face and knew this was a runaway Amish girl.

“Yes, it’s the Schrocks’ home,” she answered softly in Pennsylvania Dutch. The girl’s eyes widened.

“You speak PA-Dutch?”

“
Ja
, I’m from the Old Order Amish around here. Where are you from?”

The girl shifted her belongings uncomfortably and shrugged. “I’m from down around Mt. Vernon.”

Leah held the door open for the girl and invited her in.

“My cousin gave me this address. She said this is a safe place to go … is that true?” The girl’s chin trembled slightly.

“First, my name’s Leah.” She motioned for the girl to have a seat in the living room.

“I’m Rebekah.”

“Rebekah? Good to know you. Second, this is a safe place, but the Schrocks aren’t here this weekend. They’ve gone to a ministry meeting in New York. Is this something you’ve discussed with them?”

Rebekah tossed her head and laughed nervously. “I left without discussing it with anyone. So, no, they don’t know me at all.”

“Oh. I don’t exactly know what to tell you. I have a phone number for them if you’d like me to call.”

Rebekah thought for a second. “Okay. I need a place to stay until I can get a job. I can’t go back home.” She stared at her feet, shifting the dirty toes of her shoes under the couch.

“I’ll be right back, then. Do you want something to drink?”

Rebekah shook her head.

Leah called Naomi, and explained the situation.

“I’d better let you speak to Matthew,” Naomi said, and Leah heard her talking to Matthew before his friendly voice came on the phone. She explained a second time, and then Matthew asked her to find out how old the girl was.

“Rebekah, Matthew wants to know how old you are.”

She looked away and kept her head turned as she mumbled, “Fifteen.”

“She’s fifteen, Matthew.”

“Ah. That’s a problem. Could I speak with her, please?”

Leah handed the phone to Rebekah and left the room while Rebekah talked to Matthew. She straightened the kitchen and waited for the phone call to end. Soon, Rebekah handed the phone back to Leah. “He wants to talk with you.”

“Hello?”

“Leah, I told Rebekah she could stay just for a few days, but I’m worried that with both of you underage, this could be a problem for MAP. We try to not interfere with parental rights, but she says she’ll sleep on the streets if we turn her away, and she refuses to let me send her home. I agreed to let her stay for a few days. If it’s okay with you and Hannah, Rebekah can sleep on the couch in your living room. I hate to ask you to take her in while we’re gone, but it’s too cold to let her leave. We should be home in a few hours. Can you help her settle in?”

“Yes. I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you, Leah. I appreciate that. We’re leaving now and should be home by eight or nine.”

“Okay. Drive safely.”

“Thanks, Leah.”

Leah led Rebekah down to the apartment and settled her in while she made some hot cocoa in the microwave. As she placed the cup of steaming chocolate in front of her on the table, Leah asked, “Are you hungry? I have leftovers from lunch.”

She nodded and sipped her cocoa. “If it’s no trouble. I didn’t have breakfast before I left home.”

“How far away from home are you?” Leah asked as she took chicken and noodles from the refrigerator. Leah put a large helping of the casserole on a plate, added green beans, and popped the plate in the microwave. Rebekah seemed to be watching her every move, her eyes showing her hunger.

“I think about fifty miles or so. I’m not sure. But I hitched a ride with my
Englisher
neighbors. They were coming to Richland, and I rode with them that far; then I walked until I got a couple of rides here and there. It’s been a long day.” She sighed.

Leah took out a couple slices of bread and smeared one with thick, sweet Amish peanut butter spread. “Would you like some?”

Rebekah nodded. “Mmmm.” She ate quickly.

The microwave dinged and Leah got the plate out and placed it in front of Rebekah, with a glass of cold water, then sat down across from her. Leah sat quietly as the girl ate.

Finally, Rebekah put down her fork and looked across at Leah. “So, why did you leave home?”

Leah thought about the question. “I accepted Christ—became a born-again believer.” Leah glanced at her. “My church and bishop were going to shun me, even though they couldn’t do it officially since I hadn’t yet joined the church. They wanted me to repent of my new belief. I didn’t want them to do that, and I couldn’t give up my new faith.” She shrugged. “So I left … How about you? Why did you leave?”

Rebekah laughed. “It wasn’t something as good as why you left.” She looked up, the smile still on her lips. “I got tired of being Amish, is all.” She tossed her head. “You know how it is—those
rules.
Do this—don’t do that—act like this—don’t act like that. I just couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Leah nodded. Many young people left for the same reasons. But they usually went back—some of them, anyway.

The two girls spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, and when Rebekah decided she needed a nap, Leah went to her room and read her Bible so she wouldn’t disturb her.

After Hannah came home, they ordered a pizza and watched a movie. By the time Matthew and Naomi got back from New York, the girls were sleepy. Naomi came down and asked Rebekah to join her upstairs.