Authors: Nancy Mehl
Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC042060, #FIC053000, #Serial murderers—Fiction, #Young women—Fiction, #Mennonites—Fiction, #Violent crimes—Fiction, #Nonviolence—Fiction, #Ambivalence—Fiction, #Kansas—Fiction
“What if one of these people voiced their own suspicions as to who the killer might be? Someone who couldn't have possibly done it? Or what if someone saw the body earlier and didn't report it? Or what if someone knew something about Levi's book? Or what ifâ”
I held my hand up to stop her. “That's enough. You're right.” Relief flowed through me for the first time since Levi mentioned his disturbing counseling session. There
were
other reasons for his reaction. “I guess I did jump to conclusions. But Levi didn't do or say anything to make me think otherwise.”
Lizzie chuckled softly. “Maybe he didn't think he had to. I imagine he asked you to trust him.”
“Okay, okay. Obviously I'm wrong.” I pushed my cup toward her. “Can I have more cider, even though I'm a terrible human being? It's delicious.”
Lizzie laughed as she took my cup and stood up. “You're not a terrible human being, sweetie. You're a woman who cares about right and wrong. Maybe a little too much. Sometimes you have to let others decide what's right for them. Levi would never allow anyone to be put in danger if he could stop it. You should know that.”
I watched Lizzie as she filled my cup. “Yes, I should. Then why did I automatically jump to the wrong conclusion?”
She shrugged and walked back to the table. The wind screamed again, rattling the windows. “Just because you were wrong about Levi doesn't mean you should close your eyes to everything that's happening. We all need to be on alert. Maybe the killer's not Aaron or John, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't consider other possibilities.”
“I've been thinking about what the sheriff said and trying to come up with someone else who might be acting oddly or has something to hide. I guess my mind is just running wild, but I still say John qualifies.”
“Maybe you should suspect yourself,” Lizzie said wryly. “Because you're the one who's been acting weird.”
“Very funny.”
Lizzie sipped her cider and studied me.
“You forgot the cookies,” I said, trying to ignore her.
She got up without saying anything and took some cookies out of the cookie jar. After putting them on a plate, she brought them over and set them down on the table. When I reached for one, the pain almost made me gasp. Determined not to let Lizzie know how much I was hurting, I kept quiet. She would worry and try to take care of me. I felt certain I'd start feeling better before long.
“Please be careful, Callie. You don't want to accuse someone falsely of something like murder.” She took a sip of her cider before saying, “And you definitely don't want to betray Levi's trust. If you have concerns, take them to him. No one else.”
“Thanks, Lizzie. I know you're right. I'm so glad I had the chance to talk to you.”
Another huge blast of wind shook the house. Lizzie got up again and looked out the window. “This storm is getting worse.” She shook her head. “I still can't believe Mary is dead. Poor Roger. I never liked him much, but I sure feel sorry for him.”
“You warned me to do the right thing and not cast aspersions toward other people, but you're still holding a grudge against Roger for the way he treated us in school all those years ago.”
Roger had been a bully when we were in grade school, calling the kids from Kingdom names and making our lives miserable. When Mary left Kingdom and ended up marrying Roger, everyone was shocked. But Roger was a different person now and had not only been a wonderful husband to Mary, he'd also shown nothing but friendship to the residents of Kingdom.
“Funny that you brought up our childhoods, Callie,” Lizzie
said softly. “Because that's exactly what I want to talk to you aboutâif we're past the serial-killer discussion.”
I immediately felt a wall go up. Was Lizzie going to say something unkind about my father again?
“Look, Callie,” she said as she sat down again, “I can't put off discussing something with you. Something you don't seem to want to talk about.” She stared into her cup and cleared her throat. “You're getting ready to get married. I'm afraid . . .”
The look on her face made my heart sink.
“I'm afraid if you don't deal with some things now, before the wedding, they'll pop up later and will affect your marriage.” She hesitated for a moment. Then she took a deep breath. “Do you know why you got so angry with Elmer Wittenbauer?”
“Because of the way he treats Ruby.” My voice rose out of frustration.
“It's more than that, Callie. You identify with Ruby. Why do you suppose that is?”
“I don't know what you mean. If this is about Papa . . .”
She shook her head vigorously. “Callie, it's not just your father. It's about you.” She paused again as if gathering her thoughts. “I've known you since we were children. Maybe I was gone for five years of your life, but I still know a lot about you.”
“Just what is it you think you know?”
She took a sip of her cider, put the cup down, and sighed. “Well, I know that your life was shattered when your mother left. And your father made you feel unwanted and unloved. I believe that was the point when you started hiding your true feelings. You became the dutiful daughter. The faithful friend. The young woman who unconsciously created a
kind of shield around herself so she wouldn't feel pain. The problem is, you've done such a good job, you don't feel much of anything anymore. Not when it comes to yourself. That protection is costing you a lot, Callie.”
She gazed at me solemnly. “Sweetie, you can't spend your life stuffing your emotions into a closet. One day that closet will burst open, and the result won't be good. I saw this more than once when I worked with abused women at the shelter. Not facing the truth can cause all kinds of problems. It can actually ruin your ability to trust anyone. Ever.”
I wanted to stop her. To tell her to be quiet, but it was as if my mouth had frozen shut and wouldn't open. Why couldn't I talk? Why couldn't I defend myself?
“You're a sweet little Mennonite woman because that's who you think you're supposed to be. But it isn't real. It isn't you.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Don't get me wrong, Callie. If that's who you
want
to be, that's great. The problem is that you've never made a decision about who you are or what you believe. You've just followed the path your mother and father laid out. And that's not right.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I said finally. “I'm exactly who I want to be.” I realized with a start that I'd said those words while dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. My right hand instinctively reached up to touch my head.
“No, you're not wearing a prayer covering, Callie. And you know what? You're still the same person. Head covered or uncovered.”
“But the Bible saysâ”
“The Bible says we're free. Free from the laws of man.” She smiled. “If you want to wear a prayer covering, that's great. It's not much different from women in the world who wear
cross necklaces. They do it as a reminder of the love they have for God. To honor Him. But don't turn an old tradition into a new law. Just because women in the early church covered their heads doesn't mean it's important now. And besides, even if you want to make that Scripture into more than it is, it does say
in church.
It doesn't say all the time.”
“Is that why you wear your prayer covering only in church?”
Lizzie shrugged. “No, not really. I don't believe God cares if I wear it there either, but I do it out of deference to those who would be offended if I didn't. I don't have to, but I want to. Out of love for my brothers and sisters in Christ.” She frowned at me. “And that's the point, Callie. I make a choice. I don't just follow what my father wants.”
“You think that's what I'm doing?”
She squeezed my hand. “Yes. I think that's exactly what you're doing. Look, honey, I don't care if you decide to wear your prayer covering in the shower and in bed. That's not the point. The point is, I think it's time Callie Hoffman found out the answer to a very simple question: Who are you?”
Charity's words from earlier came back like a ghost whispering in my ear.
“Then who are you?”
I looked at Lizzie with tears in my eyes. “I have no idea,” I said finally.
Lizzie and I stayed up late and talked.
It was well after midnight when I fell into bed. Unfortunately, my sleep was anything but restful. I dreamt my father was saying things to me. Hurtful words that stung.
“It's your fault your mother left. My life would be better if you weren't here.”
When I woke up, I realized the words were real. He'd actually said themâand more. That I'd never amount to anything. That I'd never get a good husband. And my mother left because she didn't love me. Letting those terrible words into my heart hurt almost more than I could bear. I lay in bed and cried until it felt that there were no more tears inside. Remembering his hateful statements answered another question. Why I had changed when I was about twelve years old. Levi was right. That was when Papa started hurling mean-spirited insults my way.
Although it was still dark outside, I could hear noises in the kitchen. I had no idea what time it was. There wasn't a clock in my room. The only light was from the wall-mounted heater.
I pulled my legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Pain shot through my chest. I sat there for a few minutes, trying
to take deep breaths until it ceased. Strangely, my breaths seemed shallow and small. Eventually the pain subsided, and I felt better.
I continued to sit for a while, trying to gather my thoughts. How could I face Lizzie today? Should I tell her what I'd remembered? How could I say bad things about my father? I'd been taught to honor him. Would God be mad at me if I told Lizzie the truth? Would he turn His back on me the way my earthly father had? Even as I pondered my questions, I knew the answer. It was rooted inside my heart. God's love was perfect. Not like Papa's. As I remembered the light that had guided me to Lizzie's house, I became certain God's light would also guide me through this dark time in
my life.
I didn't have all the answers yet, but there was one thing I knew for sure. Lizzie was right about stuffing my feelings into a closet. And Papa was right too. I had been living in a dream world. Maybe I'd wanted a happy family so badly I'd painted a picture of my life the way I wanted it to be. And I'd seen Papa, not realistically, but through rose-colored glasses. No matter what, I'd always love him. And that was the challenge. To love him but see him for the person he really was. A bitter man who hadn't given his daughter the love she needed.
Papa hadn't always been cruel. I could still remember good times before Mother left, and toward the end of his life, he'd mellowed quite a bit. He'd thanked me for taking care of him and had even told me he loved me. But his hold on me remained. Whether it was of his making or mine, I would probably never know. But at least I could see him clearly now. And that gave me the power to forgive him.
The core of anger inside me felt drained, but in its place was sorrow. I had no confidence that all my rage was gone, but at least now I understood it.
I reached over to the clothes that were on the chair, slowly pulling on the jeans and sweatshirt I'd worn last night. I didn't want to move too quickly and aggravate the pain from my bruised chest. After making my bed, I turned off the heater and opened the door. Lizzie stood in the kitchen, putting strips of bacon into a large cast-iron skillet. A pot of coffee percolated on the stove.
“Good morning,” I said.
She looked over at me and smiled. “Good morning. Coffee will be ready in a few minutes.”
“Great. I need to use the bathroom, but I'm afraid of waking up Noah and Charity.”
Lizzie shook her head. “Noah's out like a light on the couch. Those pain pills will keep him asleep for a while. And you couldn't blast Charity out of bed with a cannon. I've never known anyone who can sleep like that girl.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I started to walk out of the room when Lizzie stopped me. “I put some fresh clothes in the bathroom in case you'd like to take a shower. It's up to you. Breakfast won't be ready for at least thirty minutes.”
“Okay, thanks. A shower sounds good.”
Lizzie nodded and went back to her tasks.
I walked on tiptoes through the living room. Sure enough, Noah was snoring away. I hoped he wouldn't be so sore today. At least he looked comfortable. I walked slowly up the stairs, hoping their creaking wouldn't wake him. When I reached the bathroom, I turned on the light. Sure enough, clothes
were waiting for me. Two sets. My dress and underthings, along with another pair of jeans and a sweater. Lizzie had washed out my clothes, but instead of putting just them in the bathroom, she'd given me a choice.
I showered slowly because of the pain. Then I looked at my chest. Noah's prediction about the skin turning black and blue was true. I found it odd that the seat belt installed in Noah's truck to keep me safe had caused so much damage. It was certainly a mixed blessing.
There was a hamper in the bathroom, so I put my dirty clothes in it. After cleaning up the bathroom the best I could, I fixed my hair and went back downstairs. Lizzie was putting scrambled eggs on a plate as I walked in.
“Just in time,” she said. She smiled and put the plate on the table. “Have a seat, and I'll get you some coffee.”
“Thank you.”
She turned back to the stove and took the pot off the burner. After pouring coffee into two cups, she carried them over to the table. “I have an extra prayer covering if you want it,” she said.
I smoothed my dress. “I don't think so, thanks.” I smiled at her. “One step at a time, Lizzie. It may take some time for me to discover the real Callie who lives under her clothes. For now, though, I'm determined I'll find her in my own way. I know I need to stop trying to be the person other people want . . . or expect me to be.”
Lizzie filled another plate with food and then slid it into the oven to keep warm. Probably for Noah. “That's the way it should be.” She came over and sat down. “Callie, a lot of people never find the person God created them to be. They're too busy trying to live up to other people's expectations, or
they try to create themselves in the image of a person they admire or envy. Just because we respect someone or think their life might be more exciting than ours doesn't mean God created us to be just like them. Sometimes we have to ignore the people in our lives so we can hear the voice
of God.”
“That sounds rather selfish. Aren't we supposed to prefer others before ourselves?”
“Sure. But making a decision to put someone else first out of love isn't the same thing as putting them first out of fear. Because you're afraid they won't love you if you don't act the way they might want you to.”
I stared at her in surprise. “Is that what I've been doing?”
“I don't know. Is it?”
That simple question hung in the air like the smell of rain after a storm. Had I lived my life trying to please my father so he'd love me? And what about Lizzie? Had I done the same with her?
Lizzie bowed her head and prayed over our food. I listened to her, but my mind was somewhere else. It was as if I were seeing my life for the first time.
When she raised her head, I quickly told her about my dream. About remembering the things my father had said.
“Oh, Callie,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I'm so sorry. I know it must hurt, but facing the truth is better than hiding it.”
“The truth will set me free?” I asked softly.
She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes with her napkin. “I believe that. We can't be our true selves if we have secrets hiding in our hearts.”
I didn't say anything, but what she said made sense.
“It's stopped snowing for a while,” Lizzie said, changing
the subject. “But clouds are moving back in. We may be here another day or so.”
I sighed. “I think that's good. Maybe by the time I face Levi again, I'll know what to do.”
“What to do about what?”
I gazed past her, trying to organize my thoughts. “What to do about him.” I picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. I chewed and swallowed it, followed by a sip of Lizzie's perfect coffee. What was it about breakfast? There was no other meal like it. Somehow it had the ability to set the tone for the rest of the day. I felt comforted and warm inside.
Lizzie didn't say a word, just waited for me to continue. Which was good because it took me that long to figure out what I wanted to say.
“How can I marry Levi when I'm just now beginning to figure out who I am and what I want out of life? It's entirely possible the woman Levi wants to marry doesn't exist.”
“Oh, Callie. I think she exists. I believe she's a compassionate woman who cares about her friends. Who will go out of her way to help anyone who needs it. Who loves children and animals. And more than anything else wants to please God.” Lizzie smiled at me. “Getting out from underneath manipulation and control won't wipe those things away. It will only make them stronger. And you'll do them because you want to. Not because you think you have to. Do you understand?”
I nodded while I moved the scrambled eggs around on my plate with my fork. “Y-yes, I think so.”
“Look, I believe you really love Levi. No one forced you to get engaged to him. That was your decision. Your father wasn't even around when that happened.”
“But what if I decide to . . . I don't know, dress like you. Stop wearing my prayer covering. Levi's our pastor. He could never allow that.”
Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “
Allow that?
” She shook her head. “I think that's the point, Callie. It isn't up to Levi to allow anything. You're responsible for your own decisions. That doesn't mean you won't acquiesce to some things because other people's feelings are worth more than what you want to doâor what you don't want to do. You have to pick your battles though. Being true to yourself is the first one.”
“But Leviâ”
“But Levi,” she said with emphasis, “deserves honesty, Callie. If you two are meant to be together, it will work out. If he can't accept you for who you are, a successful marriage would be impossible. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about.”
“I do trust you,” I said. “And thank you, Lizzie. I don't know what I'd do without your friendship.”
“I don't know what we would have done without you last night. If it hadn't been for you, today might have been very different. The worst day of my life.”
I had to smile. “Well, if I hadn't gone for help, this might have been a pretty bad day for me too. Noah and I both could have frozen to death out there.”
Lizzie blanched. “You're right. I've been so focused on Noah, I forgot that your life was at stake as well. You saved two lives yesterday. The lives of two people I love very
much.”
“I don't think I'm the one who should get the credit,” I said. “God not only gave me strength, but He lit the way.”
“Yes. Yes He did.”
I smiled and got busy eating my breakfast. To be honest, I
was still amazed by what had happened the night before. I'd always believed God was a God of healing and miracles, even though Papa told me the day of miracles was past. Obviously, Papa had forgotten to explain that to God, who seemed to think He could do one anytime He felt like it.
The kitchen was chilly but warming up fast. I felt relaxed sitting in Lizzie's cozy kitchen. Would it be like this when Levi and I were married? Would I be fixing breakfast in our own kitchen while Levi sat and talked to me? The picture in my mind made me happy and sad, all at the same time. There was no way I could predict what was going to happen next. If I changed too much, would he break off our engagement?
Lizzie had just put more bacon in the pan, and I was getting up to get another cup of coffee, when the sound of a loud motor got our attention. Lizzie and I got up and went to the living room. Who in the world had braved the huge snowdrifts to get here? The answer was quickly evident. Levi was pulling his stepfather's tractor up to the front of the house, a huge snowplow attached to the front.
“It's Levi!” I said. At first I was thrilled to see him, but then reality hit. Was I ready to confront him? What could I say to him? Suddenly, an idea struck me. “I'll be right back, Lizzie,” I said. I walked slowly toward the stairs.
“Callie, are you sure about this?” Lizzie asked, her face a mask of concern. “Maybe it isn't a good idea.”
I marveled at her perception. She knew exactly what was on my heart. “I have to know, Lizzie. I have to. This is the only thing I can think of right now.”
She didn't say anything else, just nodded at me.
I walked up the stairs to the bathroom and changed out
of my dress. Pulling it over my head was difficult. During breakfast, my discomfort had grown. Again, I felt the sensation of being able to take only short, quick breaths. I forced myself to quit thinking about my injury and got busy putting on Lizzie's jeans and sweater. Then I unwrapped my bun, pulled out the pins, and ran my hands through my long hair. The young woman who looked back at me in the mirror had fear in her eyes. Was this girl me? Or was she the girl in the plain dress and prayer covering?
At this point I had no idea. But I had to find out if Levi would be able to accept me, no matter who I turned out to be. With a sigh, I put my hand on the doorknob and stood there for a moment.
“Help me, God,” I whispered. “Help me to know you better. And to find the person you want me to be. And please, please, if it's at all possible, help Levi to love me no matter who I am.” I turned around and took one more quick look in the mirror. For just a moment, I thought about putting my dress back on. Was this fair to Levi? Was I thinking of himâor of me? Gathering up my courage, I forced myself to open the door and start for the stairs. I could hear his voice from the first floor. Walking slowly, I came down the stairs. As I neared the living room, all talking ceased abruptly.