A Plain Man Page 14

  As she passed the old gristmill she heard the soothing sound of rushing water. She couldn’t imagine grinding your own wheat, corn, barley, or oats each time you wanted hot cereal or to bake a loaf of bread. Life had become so much easier with the invention of the bulk foods store. Everything you possibly needed, plus the treats you loved, could be purchased in quantities from a cupful to a hundred pounds. When she reached Sarah’s backyard, Josie swung her basket while humming a tune learned from a Mennonite friend.

  Elizabeth sat rocking on the porch with Katie. The bishop appeared to be asleep in his chair while Sarah and Caleb were nowhere in sight. “Hello, Josie,” called Elizabeth. “Come to see Sarah, I imagine?”

  “Jah, I missed her after preaching. We didn’t get much chance to talk.” Josie lifted one foot to the bottom step.

  “You’re out of luck. She went to the Troyers for supper. ’Spose it’ll be dark by the time Adam brings her home, but I’ll mention that you stopped by.” Elizabeth smiled fondly while continuing to rock. “Care for something to drink?”

  “No, danki.” Josie considered her options. “Say, is Caleb around? Could I have a word with him?”

  “Don’t see why not. He’s down at the pond with a fishing line thrown in. Not that there are any fish left. I think they died off this winter when we had month-long subzero temperatures. Want me to send Katie to fetch him?”

  The youngest Beachy turned up her face expectantly.

  “No, no, stay where you are, Katie. I prefer to go myself to get more exercise.” Josie hurried away before somebody questioned her logic—she’d just walked two miles and must walk another two to get home.

  Josie spotted Caleb as soon as she crested the hill. He sat underneath a swamp willow on a campstool with his nose buried in a book. She’d almost reached his side before he heard someone approach.

  “Goodness, Josie! Are you trying to give a man a heart attack?” Caleb jumped to his feet, losing his hat and dropping the book in the process.

  Josie marched to the shade and set her hamper in the grass. “You’re too young for a heart attack, but I did fear something horrible had happened, or at the very least, you were gravely ill.” She pulled a tattered patchwork lap robe from the basket. After spreading it out, she plopped down in the middle.

  He plucked his hat from the weeds and slapped it against his leg. “Why did you think I was sick?” His warm brown eyes locked on hers.

  “Because you weren’t at preaching, silly. I can’t imagine why your daed didn’t drag you by your ear. After all, he’s the bishop.” She laughed despite the fact she wasn’t joking. “I’m sure that’s what my father would do.” Josie dug a jar of lemonade from the basket along with two plastic cups.

  Caleb ignored his folding stool and crouched down beside her small quilt. “I’m rather surprised Daed said nothing when I decided not to go this morning. Those services are so long and the minister drones on about situations that don’t apply. Those people have been dead a long time and faced trials and tribulations different from ours.”

  She handed him a drink. “Maybe you need to look deeper into his message, keeping in mind our individual wills hold little importance. We are to surrender ourselves and walk the path Christ taught us to the best of our abilities.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Caleb stretched out his legs.

  “Mamm says it gets easier with practice and that yielding is hardest when you’re young like us.”

  Caleb sipped his drink and picked up his leather bound book. “I derive more good from reading by the pond than I do jammed in somebody’s hot living room or outbuilding.” He splayed his fingers across the well-worn cover.

  Josie noticed it was an English version of the Holy Bible. “The Good Book won’t let you down. It has helped Christians for two thousand years. What have you learned today?”

  “I like reading the Psalms—all things seem possible in that book. And I’ve read through the Gospels four times. Now I’m finishing the rest of the New Testament, and then I’ll start at the beginning with Genesis.”

  “I applaud your efforts. I listen to my father read Deutsch Scripture in the evenings. But most of the time I just pay attention during the sermons.” She lifted out the jar of applesauce, three wrapped pork chops, and some foam plates. “Daed says our goal is to live in submission to God, to the ministers and bishop, and to him and Mamm until I marry. So I don’t need to study much by myself.” After spooning apples onto their plates, Josie began to nibble her pork chop.

  “Each to their own, Miss Yoder.” Caleb settled back on one elbow to eat. “Thanks for bringing me lunch. It saved me a trip to the house until I’m ready. But I suspect you had a better reason to walk here than making sure I wasn’t lying on my deathbed.”

  She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “You talk so much like an Englischer, but you’re right. I’ve been thinking since we went to Wooster together. In two weeks the membership classes start—the first preaching Sunday of June. I plan to go and so does Sarah. You still intend to take the classes, don’t you? Because if you don’t, it would be pointless for us to spend any more time together. I’ll be ending rumschpringe before my baptism.” Desperate for a distraction, Josie picked up her plate and devoured the applesauce.

  “Wow—that sounded like an ultimatum.” Caleb grabbed his throat with both hands as though being strangled. “But since you’re the prettiest girl in Fredericksburg, besides the best cook, I would be a fool not to join the class.” He chomped into his second pork chop.

  “Just to set the record straight, my sister fried the pork yesterday, Mamm made the applesauce, and I only fixed the lemonade from a powdered drink mix.”

  “I was referring to your roast chicken and four-bean salad.” Caleb winked playfully. “But I would like you to fill me in on exactly what happens at these classes.” He finished his chop in another two bites.

  “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

  “I assure you, I am not.”

  “Your father is the bishop, Cal. How could you not know what goes on?”

  Staring off at the water, Caleb set his empty plate in the grass. Low clouds were forming above the horizon, promising a shower before dark. “I seem to have trouble talking to him lately. We’ve been butting heads since I came back to work. So I can’t find the right time to discuss his hopes for my salvation.”

  Josie reflected a moment. “You’re not getting along on the job? But Eli is the boss.”

  “Don’t worry your pretty head. Things are improving in that regard after a period of readjustment.”

  “Gut to hear.” She exhaled slowly. “Okay, from now on during preaching Sundays those who wish to join the church will meet in the kitchen of wherever the service takes place. For forty-five minutes, one of the ministers will teach us the eighteen articles of the Anabaptist faith. Plus your father will instruct us on our Ordnung to make sure folks understand the district rules. After our class, we go to preaching.”

  “I’ve noticed that during years gone by. What else?” Caleb pulled up a weed, not meeting her gaze.

  “Those who remain throughout the classes and wish to join the church will have one final session with their parents. It will be the day before baptism. Your daed and the other ministers will ask questions to make sure we’re ready. Plus the men will be asked if they would be willing to be ministers if chosen by lots. That’s it. You’ve watched people take their vows and get baptized at fall communion services.”

  He nodded. “Jah, I understand that part.”

  “Anytime during the classes if a person decides they’re not ready, they just stop coming. No hard feelings. They can wait until next year.”

  “Well, my dear girl, I’ve got every incentive in the world to be ready.” He rose to his full height, grabbed the handles of their hamper, and pulled her to her feet. “Now I’d better see to evening chores. Even on the Sabbath, horses still need to eat.”

  And Josie strolled back with more confidence than she’d known
for quite some time.

  It was a Monday morning in June when Eli stood on his front porch sipping his second cup of black coffee. He’d already completed his morning prayers and eaten all the breakfast his unsettled stomach could handle. For some reason the usual orange juice and fried eggs churned his gut like the spicy burrito he’d once had at a livestock auction. Thank goodness he’d been born Amish instead of Spanish or he would be a very skinny man.

  He had no idea what had tied him in knots. Their last project at the Ashland restaurant had finished on schedule without further incidents. When Caleb ran into some former Englisch friends, Eli had feared the worst. But his son hadn’t spent lunchtime with the electricians. And more importantly, he hadn’t started drinking with them after work. Mostly Caleb had avoided Dave Whitaker on the job except for the requisite greeting or farewell.

  What could he have done if it had gone the other way? Absolutely nothing. Caleb had to make his own choices in life; he especially must make up his mind about remaining Amish. Eli’s only option would be to ask Caleb to move out. And that would be a last resort since it would break Elizabeth’s heart...along with his own. His best course of action was to pray, and hope God was merciful to one Amish farmer who’d stumbled on the Christian path too many times to count.

  “Why are you waiting for Jack out here?” Caleb’s voice broke Eli’s concentration.

  He turned to find his son dressed for work with coffee mug in hand. “I love the view from this porch—so much better than the side or back.” Eli stepped back into the house, letting the screen door slam.

  “If you say so, but it all looks like corn to me.” Caleb followed him down the hallway into the kitchen.

  Elizabeth smiled as she industriously packed their lunches. “I’ve made you each two sandwiches, because you never know how long your first day will be. And I have chips and a walnut brownie for both my boys.” She planted a kiss on Caleb’s cheek, initiating a blush.

  “You act like this is our first day of school instead of just another construction project,” said Caleb. “We’d better watch for Jack outside before you send us upstairs to comb our hair once more.” He hugged his mamm before picking up the bulging cooler.

  Despite occasional rough patches between the two of them, Caleb always treated Elizabeth with love and respect. And for that, Eli was grateful.

  “What’s our new project?” asked Caleb when Eli joined him on the porch. “All I know is we’re heading to Ashland again.”

  Eli sipped from his travel mug. “We landed a good contract this time—finished carpentry and cabinetmaking in a new building close to the interstate. A large law firm wants fancy offices for their corporate attorneys. The rough carpentry work has already been done. We should have three weeks of bookcases and shelving for electronics, conference room wainscoting, installing hardwood floors, and building cubicles for administrative assistants. The kind of work you love.”

  “In Ashland, Ohio?” Caleb smirked with disbelief.

  “Jah, the college has brought new development to the area. Wealthy Englischers will always need wealthier lawyers.” Eli chuckled as Jack’s van pulled up the driveway.

  “Will we have quality materials to use, not like that knotty old barn siding in the banquet room?” Caleb set his empty mug by the door for one of his sisters to find.

  “Nothing but oak, walnut, and cherry. Every board will be rated grade A.”

  “Sounds like a walk in the meadow on a summer day,” said Caleb.

  “With a pretty girl by your side,” Eli added to the analogy.

  “With fresh apple pie and hand-churned ice cream when you get home,” Caleb concluded on their walk to the van.

  “What are you two talking about?” asked Bob as Eli opened the door.

  “About the stacks of perfect wood waiting at the next job site.” Caleb stowed his tool belt in the back and climbed in.

  “Remember the nest of termite eggs I found in that stack of old siding?” Bob shook like a dog in the rain. “I still have nightmares about those disgusting bugs.”

  “Those days are behind us.” Eli rolled down the window and leaned his head back.

  However, the Ashland construction project turned out to be anything but a walk in the meadow.

  “Uh-oh,” moaned Jack. He pulled the van to the berm while still two hundred yards away, but they could already see and hear loud commotion. “There was something about this on the radio this morning, but I didn’t catch the whole story.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Caleb from the backseat. He leaned forward to see out the windshield.

  “A strike,” said Eli. “The building’s owner feared this might happen.”

  “Which union?” Caleb demanded.

  “It looks like the plumbers.” Jack crept forward another fifty yards. “The radio said something about the local union being upset because nonunion contractors were being used on a major commercial project. It doesn’t help that contract negotiations have stalled over wages and benefits. They’ve reached some sort of impasse.” Jack clucked his tongue against the roof on his mouth.

  “This matter doesn’t concern us,” said Eli. “Drive into the fenced parking area, but be careful. With so many men milling about, we don’t want to run anybody over.” His stomach took another nasty turn. It was as though his body had sensed trouble as soon as he woke up this morning.

  “What do you mean this doesn’t concern us?” Caleb asked his question in a soft voice. “I’m still in the Carpenters’ Union, Local Brotherhood Number 21. I remember sitting in the union hall plenty, waiting for jobs to come in. If too many owners use nonunion contractors, families of the men down at the hall are forced to do without.”

  “Work is work. Let’s not worry about a disagreement between plumbers and contract negotiators. This strike has nothing to do with carpenters, whether union or not.” Eli ate three Tums from his pocket container.

  Caleb leaned over the seat between him and Jack. “But we should show support for the strikers by not crossing their line. Otherwise they’ll lose ground at the bargaining table. If the other trades don’t respect their picket line, it hurts all trades in the end.”

  Eli swallowed a mouthful of stomach acid and pivoted to face his son. “Need I remind you that I’m a nonunion builder? Since I signed a contract for my crew to work this project, I can be sued for nonperformance. Besides, you left the union when you moved from Cleveland. So this is not your business.”

  “Aren’t I still a man of integrity who respects his fellow workers?”

  Turning back to peer out the windshield, Eli thought carefully before answering. The strikers marched back and forth, waving signs and shouting at passing cars. “You’re a Plain man now. We report to a higher authority than business owners or labor negotiators.”

  For a minute or two, a person could hear a pin drop inside the vehicle. Then Jack cleared his throat. “Looks like the strikers are blocking the entrance to the site, not letting anybody cross. They usually do that on the first day. But the police will come to make them abide by the letter of the law.”

  “What do you suggest, Jack?” Eli asked as calmly as he could manage.

  “Why don’t I drop the men off at a restaurant in town? They could have coffee and listen to the local news. No doubt it will be the top story on TV and radio. Then you and I can come back and park down the street. We’ll walk around, look for the owner, and get a feel for the situation. Nobody will bother us if we’re on foot. By tomorrow the police will have established rules for those on the picket line.”

  “Those are good ideas. Everyone in agreement?” asked Eli, not turning around.

  “Sounds fine to me,” said Caleb. He was the only man to speak.

  Caleb thought Monday would never end. He couldn’t remember a more onerous day—not down at the union hall waiting for assignments, not during a horrible hangover from drinking, not even walking home on Christmas Eve in a blizzard. By the time Jack and Eli picked them up after st
ale pie and weak coffee, the picket line was exactly as it had been earlier. Trucks and vans were afraid to cross. Strikers taunted and jeered any tradesman who tried to enter the construction site. Caleb thought his stubborn father would insist that Jack inch the van forward into the parking lot. Not that he was afraid for his physical safety. Although the strikers threw out plenty of trash talk, these plumbers were decent men who went home to families each night and might even attend church on Sundays. No, Caleb feared he would be forced into a showdown with his father—one he wasn’t ready for. Although he still carried a union card tucked in his wallet, he’d quit the carpenters’ union when he left the city, regardless of his paid-up dues. If he was Amish, then he shouldn’t be a member of a labor organization.

  He would never vote, sit on a jury, or serve in the armed forces, except in humanitarian capacities. He would pay his taxes, obey the law, and never turn his back on a man in need, whether Amish or Englisch, because all that was mandated in Scripture. But he could never place the rules of society above the Lord. Caleb understood all this, but he still didn’t want to cross the picket line. Why couldn’t they simply wait until the strike was settled? Then they could finish the three weeks of cabinetry without interruption. Most likely the completion date would be pushed back considering that circumstances were beyond their control.

  Luckily his father decided not to jump into the fray. Eli had instructed Jack to drive them home. Few crew members talked during the ride. Even Josiah and Daniel seemed uneasy about what they’d seen and heard. After Jack dropped them off, Caleb occupied himself for hours in the barn, allowing his father to explain the situation to his mother. Caleb didn’t wish to discuss this with her or his sisters, especially since he hadn’t sorted out his plans for tomorrow. What would he do? Jack would surely pick them up at the appointed hour. And if the police had the picketers under control, Eli would take his crew into the building, business as usual.