Amish Vampires in Space (37 page)

Mark nodded. Rose from his chair. He walked toward the curtain, and with a nod, exited. The Ninevite remained.

Samuel turned to look at him. He, at least, hadn’t abandoned the proper attire while he’d been away. No indication of a mustache or blemish on his coat or pants. He wasn’t totally lost then. Samuel hoped no one was, but he feared that this place was infested with real evil now. The kind the Lord had cast into pigs. Samuel was keeping that idea to himself for now.

Yet ever since Mary had awakened… He shook his head. He didn’t want to be alone with her. She was not herself.

Samuel nodded. “You’ve come to repent then?”

Jebediah looked him in the eyes. “The idea has been much on my mind.”

“You admit that what you did was wrong? Sinful?”

He brought his hands together. Laced his fingers. “I admit it broke the rules of the Ordnung. That it offended our sensibilities.” A frown. “But that wasn’t my primary reason for returning.”

Samuel felt sorrow again. Fought not to hunch from the weight of it. He instead looked away from the Ninevite. “Then I cannot talk to you now,” he said. “Only when your heart is ready. Perhaps if you attend the meeting. Stand outside, of course. Separate. But listening.” A hopeful look. “You were a good man once, Jebediah. Trustworthy and respected. I want to see your honor returned. For everyone’s sake.” Samuel pushed the curtain aside and exited.

• • •

Samuel left the prayer room, turned left and walked to the settlement’s edge, then turned right and followed the edge to the settlement’s far end. There he turned right again and walked toward the one door—composed of two large curtains—that was present on that side.

No one family’s dwelling was large enough for everyone to meet in, of course. So the Englishers—specifically, the female named Singer—had suggested the construction of such a room. On Alabaster, such a large space would have been seen as wasteful. Especially if it were to only be used once every other Sunday. But here, under their current circumstances, he was forced to admit it made sense. He was surprised that it took a woman to realize it though. Clearly she’d done her research. Knew the Amisher custom of Sunday worship.

Yet were there no male leaders on this ship? Had Englisher society degraded to the point of being similar to the time when Deborah had led the Israelites? When military men like her General Barak were afraid to fight?

Samuel reached the curtains and pushed them aside. They were equipped with ties, which he used to secure them back. This would be an open meeting. No one should be held out or excluded. Like when Jesus had spoken on the mountain. All were welcome.

There were rows of seats inside. Uniform benches, really, with the addition of shallow backrests. Samuel approached one of these and tested it by sitting down. Though it appeared hard, there was a bit of padding on both the backrest and seat. He frowned and tested the seat next to him with a hand. He wasn’t sure what the seats were made of. It wasn’t wood. Doubtless some unnatural substance. Machine made. He looked at the ceiling far above. Recalled the resemblance to a ribcage. Shuddered.

He heard something behind him and stood, turned. The first group of people entered. A few of the older members. Three women and two men. They looked tired, drawn. Doubtless weighed down by the cultural decline they’d witnessed. Samuel approached them, welcomed them with a nod and a word of greeting.

Next came a pair of families. One, the Blackwells, he recognized. He remembered them having five children, however, not three. Where were the other two? The second family was unfamiliar to him. But they shared the same look of concern as the rest. All found seats near the middle on his right. He nodded at them. Bowed his head for a prayer.

When Samuel looked up, Ruth, his wife, was making her way into the room. She was wearing one of her usual grey dresses and a white kapp. But there was a pink scarf around her neck. She smiled brightly when she saw him. He acknowledged the smile with a nod, but didn’t return it. Nothing that was happening now was worth smiling about. She took a seat on the left side. In the middle.

More and more people trickled in. Samuel nodded, began to pace, pray more. Soon the room was nearly half full. The crowd remained quiet, though. Contemplative. That was proper. He saw many bowed heads. Silent prayers being uttered. He was grateful for that. He coveted the prayers.

Then things began to change. It seemed to Samuel that the overhead lights dimmed, though it might’ve been only perception. Anxiety. He wondered where Mark was. And James.

No sooner had he thought it than James came into the room. He wore no hat and no coat. Only shirt, pants, and suspenders. His shirt had been dyed light green. In one hand was a Bible that he swung haphazardly. He whistled as he moved up the central aisle. He raised both eyebrows at Samuel, gave a little wave, and slid into a bench on the left.

Samuel tried to keep his emotions in check. Fought off a scowl. It appeared that James was a part of the problem now, as Mark had suggested. Samuel felt sweat brimming his forehead. He brought out a handkerchief and dabbed at it. Slid the handkerchief into his coat pocket, where it would be close.

More people trickled in. Samuel guessed that more than half had made it. Mostly the orthodox ones. Not those in need of discipline.

Mark entered with a couple of the other men. Then his family entered too. It was his
whole
family, it appeared, from youngest to oldest. A strong show of togetherness. There was a worried look on Mark’s face, though. Not uncommon for anyone when thrust into a new experience. They’d had over a week of new experiences. All of them.

Mark led his group to the middle of the seats on the right. Guided everyone in and walked himself up to join Samuel at the front. He leaned close. “Everyone has been told,” he said. “Everyone. But Samuel, I think—”

There was a commotion at the back of the room. Through the curtains came David. He was dressed in just blue overalls, which he’d gotten from the Englishers somehow because the name of the leviathan ship was on it. He had his arms around three women. Two were the Yoder sisters, and the third was an attractive younger woman that Samuel wasn’t sure who she belonged to. He hoped she wasn’t married, at least. Not that it mattered to Abraham’s son.

After their arrival, more of David’s people entered. Some came in pairs, but more often they came in threes or fours. And typically it was one male with multiple females. An abominable mix. Against the basic Ordnung teaching.

And the colors. No two looked alike. Bright reds, yellows, and blues. Misshapen attire. Individualism run amuck. None were too salacious yet, thankfully. But there was much more skin showing than was proper in public. Bare arms and legs. Heads uncovered.

Samuel felt ill. These later attendees mostly took seats near the back on the left. Many stood near the door, though. The ambient noise increased a hundredfold.

Samuel held up his hands. “We need to be quiet now,” he said.

Many in David’s group laughed. “Yeah, we need to be quiet,” one of them said. The word “quiet” was repeated a dozen times from different mouths, along with more chuckles and cheers. The other side of the room, the side filled with mostly traditionalists, looked fearful and sullen. Heads shook, eyes dropped.

Samuel straightened himself. Raised his voice more than he was accustomed to. “‘For our God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of a sound mind.’” He emphasized the last phrase more than the others, hoping it would have an effect. “‘For by grace I say to you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment!’”

This brought some quiet, but the smiles from David and his group didn’t diminish one iota. Samuel closed his eyes, tried to focus and remember the passage. “‘So whether you eat or drink—whatever you do—do it for God’s glory. And don’t cause anyone to stumble.’” He opened his eyes again. Saw the same disunity. He pointed a finger. “That is why we are community, my brothers and sisters. What made Alabaster strong. And good. We need to return to those ideals.”

David was one of those standing. His arms were still slung around two of the women. “Things have changed, Samuel,” David said. “I see what it is all about now. See so very clearly.” He searched the room, specifically looking at those on the right. “It will be easier if you come willingly.”

Samuel cocked his head. “To where, David? To join you in your rebellious acts? By Gott, what has happened to you people? Do ye remember not your upbringing?” He shook his head. “Nee, this needs to end. That is why I called this meeting. Away from the Englishers and their influence. It is time for us to erect a memorial stone, an Ebenezer, just like the Israelites used to do for significant events. To say that
this
is the time we became righteous again. Where all outside sway was repented of and set aside. ‘Choose you this day whom you will serve!’ as the Scriptures say.”

More giggles from David’s crowd. Samuel felt sorrow and anger mix. It never should’ve come to this.

“It is too late for that.” David tugged at the straps of his overalls. Smiled. “We’ve started a new community. And we plan to survive.”

“A community?” Samuel raised a hand David’s direction. “Is that what you call this? You bring shame to your true community. To your family.”

David laughed. “My family is right here,” he said. “And they fully approve.” Abraham, his wife, and Jonathan stood up from seats a couple of rows in front of David.

Samuel tried not to gape. He didn’t know how he’d missed David’s family before, but then, they too were dressed in outlandish clothing. They blended perfectly with the group of fallen souls around them. Abraham’s sleeves were off his shirt. A green scarf was around his hat.

“You too, Abraham?” Samuel said.

“It is the fever, Samuel,” Mark whispered. “Those who get it always fall.”

Samuel shook his head. “When has a fever done such a thing?” he said softly. “Disease may lead to physical death, yes. But to this?” He straightened himself again. “We need to take ahold of this. Is Jebediah outside?”

Mark looked puzzled. “I believe so… Yes, I think I saw him.”

“Go get him, please.”

Mark hesitated, but then bowed his head and proceeded toward the back of the room. Everyone watched him go. A few of those on the left moved closer to Mark as if to hinder his exit, but David made a hissing noise and shook his head. Mark exited the room unmolested. David was still smiling though. As if it were all a game.

A few moments later Mark returned, followed by an equally confused-looking Jebediah. Samuel was taking a chance here, he knew. But he suspected Jebediah was more ready for a return to fellowship than even he suspected. And Samuel loved examples.

When the two men reached him at the front, Samuel held out both hands welcomingly. “Ah, yes, it starts with this. Repentance, absolution, and then reaffirmation.” He smiled. “We are made for each other, bruders and schwestern. To live together.”

Mark again took a place at Samuel’s side. Jebediah remained in front of him, waiting.

“I believe it to be God’s timing that you are here, Jebediah Miller,” Samuel said. “I believe that you have decided to rejoin us in precisely the moment He destined.”

Jeb said nothing, but clearly he was thinking. He was close to repentance, Samuel knew. His heart was prepared.

“We would like nothing better than to welcome you back to us,” Samuel said. “Are you ready for that to happen?”

Jebediah frowned. “As I mentioned before, Samuel, I have given it much thought. I know my actions brought harm to our way of life.” He looked over his shoulder in both directions. “Clearly they have.”

“I disagree!” David shouted, and was joined by choruses of yeses and amens from his group.

“Listen, you,” Samuel said. “By the name of Jesus, I command you to listen.”

The group quieted, but only enough for David to say, “We’ve listened enough already.”

Samuel ignored them. Focused solely on Jebediah. “And what has the Lord brought you to?”

“I’ve learned that much has happened since the founding of Alabaster. Important events that we’ve had no portion of. That could’ve affected us, but by God’s grace, somehow didn’t.”

Samuel nodded. “Ya, the Lord takes care of His people, Jeremiah. We don’t need to be concerned. He has it in His hands. I know you understand that. You’ve witnessed the celestial bodies and how they’re all kept in their paths. A place for everything, and everything in its place. And our place is to be together, but separate.”

Jebediah squinted. “Well, is it now? Tell me, Bishop, where do the Scriptures teach that?”

Was that a challenge? Here? Now? In front of the assembly? Surely not. Surely an honest question from one who has been thinking deeply. Samuel appreciated being able to pick from his scriptural garden. “The Lord said: ‘You are the light of the world. The salt of the earth.’ He called us to be different from the rest. Special.”

Jebediah nodded. “Yes, but like the stars, light is only seen when it is surrounded by darkness. And salt only tastes good when it is sprinkled on something else, Samuel.”

Samuel sighed. Perhaps Jeb wasn’t as ready as he’d thought.

David made a motion, and his whole group got to their feet. “Enough talking. I think it is time we illustrate what community is all about,” he said, smiling. The group started to move toward the center aisle. It wasn’t clear whether they were attempting to leave or something else. Perhaps they wanted to take the place of the speaker.

“Sit down, all of you,” Samuel said.

David’s smile broadened, and he looked slyly at the Yoder sisters in either arm. Pulled them close. “My friends, it’s time.” And with that, one of his young women sprinted across the aisle, grabbed the first person she could find—an elderly woman—and put her arms around her.

At first, everyone who was watching, including the older woman, were surprised by the young woman’s apparently friendly gesture. For many seconds they sat together like that. Close and communal. Others in David’s group crossed the aisle and sat with other traditionalists. The community had never been one for public displays of affection, so there was some discomfort there. But it was all so surprising too. Unexpected but hopeful.