The Miting (6 page)

“
Maem
, Martha is my best friend. How can I not talk to her? You don’t know what she puts up with in that house, too. If you knew what I saw her stepbrother do, you’d have pity on her—I can’t abandon her now. She needs a friend—”

“No!”
Daet
banged his fist on the desk, causing
Maem
and Leah to jump, then stood and stalked to the door. “I’ve had enough of this kind of nonsense. You do what’s right, and I mean it! One more question, one more sinful notion, one more sign of disobedience from you, and … I’ll … I’ll call the bishop myself.”

He pivoted and marched out the door, letting the screen bang shut behind him.

Leah trembled.

Maem
played with a paper on the desk. “He loves you. We both do. We’re only doing this to save you from the grip of the Devil. You don’t want to be like Martha; we know that. Just listen to
Daet. Please.
Go and think about this. Decide you’ll settle down and join the church. Please, quit giving us so much grief.”
Maem
wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.

Leah dropped her chin. Tears fell on her cupped hands. She promised to try harder, to not ask questions or see Martha.

Maem
nodded and stood. “We need to finish those preserves, and I have to start supper. Come in and help when you’ve pulled yourself together.” She walked slowly to the shop door, her shoulders hunched.

It hurt Leah to see
Maem
looking like that. She knew she had sinned against her parents and the church. She knew the desire to be free was wicked and selfish.

But what really disturbed her was the sinful lie she’d just told to her parents, telling them she would think things through, would think about joining church. Though she truly didn’t want to hurt her parents, the pressure to conform to the rules pressed in on her so much that she couldn’t breathe.

Leah stared out the window at the summer scene beyond. Birds were singing their songs in hidden nests while a swift honeybee darted between rich-hued violets. The sun shone bright white, and the warm air slowly turned the windmill that brought water to the kitchen pump. Even though it was a beautiful and tranquil summer afternoon, shadows of apprehension clouded her mind and her stomach churned.

She sighed, walked to the door, and headed back to the kitchen. Tonight of all nights, it would be best not to keep
Maem
waiting.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

T
he summer days passed into autumn. Leaves slowly changed colors and dotted the hills with oranges, reds, and brilliant yellows as the air grew chilly at night. Leah managed to keep her feelings to herself through much of the harvest season, while even the neighbors who didn’t farm helped the farmers. Life continued at its own pace. In the meantime, a few older youth in the community settled down and joined the church, though Leah noticed Jacob was not among the new members.

To Leah’s surprise and relief, Martha escaped harsh discipline. She had to confess one Sunday to the sin of going to see movies, but the rest of her actions appeared to be ignored. And she seemed to be controlling her worst behaviors, too.

Forgiving those who repent had always been one of the Amish church’s most important instructions. Those who confessed their sins before the church were forgiven in glad relief. Martha had done this, but Leah sensed
Daet
didn’t trust her confession. Since she had been disciplined and accepted the church’s decisions, he reluctantly allowed the visits between the friends to resume. But he kept a polite distance when Martha came by.

One fall day,
Maem
, Ada, and Leah aided in the preparation of food for field workers at the Bontrager barn raising just a few miles from Martha’s house. Leah was happy to see Martha there, too, so they quickly became a team. After working diligently to help serve the men, the friends stood in line with the women for lunch. Leah and Martha cooled their faces with paper fans and chatted about the young men they’d watched that morning. Most of the older women sat at one of the long tables, but Martha motioned to a table away from the others. An old, shagbark hickory tree cooled the air and provided much-needed shade.

“Do you think you’re ready to join the church?” Leah nodded to a couple of teens in a group nearby. “Tobe and Rebecca are taking instruction right now. They’re younger than both of us.”

Martha gazed a long time over the surrounding fields before her gaze finally met Leah’s. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Abe in a few weeks. He took an apartment in Ashfield and is living with a group of ex-Amish guys. He gave me this before he left.” She palmed a tiny cell phone, its bright, shiny red color totally out of place against Martha’s dark, plain dress.

“Martha—have you been using that?”

She giggled. “Of course, silly. With Abe gone, how else can I talk to him?”

“Then you’re not really planning to settle down and join the church?”

She shook her head. “Like I said, I don’t know. I don’t want to leave my younger sisters, but …” She left the sentence unfinished.

After a minute of silence, Martha slipped the phone back into her apron pocket and leaned close. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to say anything to your
maem
or to anyone else?”

“Well—”

“You have to promise.” Martha whispered firmly. “I mean it!”

Leah watched her friend’s troubled face and, thinking about what she’d witnessed in Martha’s room, reluctantly agreed. “Okay. What is it?”

She ducked her chin and fixed her gaze on the tops of her black shoes. “My stepbrother … he … he’s been doing
bad
things to me.” Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

It took a minute for the meaning to register, but then Leah took note of the flush that had slowly spread from Martha’s neck into her cheeks as she told her secret. Shivery tingles covered Leah’s body as she recalled what she had seen in Martha’s bedroom. Her heart beat faster as her mind conjured up even worse scenarios than she had witnessed.

“You mean—”

Martha nodded.

“Abner?”

Martha glanced around and leaned closer still. “
Ja
, you saw him. It’s Abner.”

The awful scene in Martha’s bedroom suddenly made sense, especially the way her friend had acted, the way Abner had treated her, the things he said to Leah as he left the room. The puzzle pieces came together, forming a terrible picture. Leah’s stomach twisted.

She reached for Martha’s hand. “You
have
to tell someone.”

Tears fell from her gray eyes, but Martha shook her head. “I’ve told
you
, Leah, so you’ll understand when I leave someday.”

Knowing now what her friend endured at home, Leah could understand why Martha wouldn’t consider staying Amish. Why had she confessed to the church, agreed to all the rules, and stuck around her chaotic family? She had the perfect excuse to get out.

“You should tell on him,” Leah pronounced.

Martha shook her head. “No. I’m afraid he’ll start on my younger sisters if I tell.
Maem
suspects something, but she looks at me like it’s
my
fault. I tried to tell her—I tried, but she turned her head away before she heard everything. She told me I should try harder to be good.
I
should ‘be more pure in thought and manner,’ is how she put it.” Martha swiped tears off her cheeks. Her hands clenched her apron.

“Abe wanted me to leave that night, and I planned to, I really did, but then I saw my little sisters, and well, I just couldn’t do that to them, Leah.”

“What about you? How are you avoiding Abner? You live in the same house.”

“Abe took me to town. I told him I wanted a lock for my bedroom door. Now I lock that door every night.”

“You said you’re worried about your sisters. Has he bothered them since you’ve locked him out?”

“They’re too young! He wouldn’t!”

Leah could see that Martha hoped her words were true.

“If he marries soon, they’ll be safe.” Martha’s voice wavered.

Leah couldn’t imagine the pain her friend was going through—violated by her own stepbrother! How could Anna Mast allow such a thing?

Everything changed for Leah after Martha revealed her secret. She spent nights wondering how Martha could stand living in her home, day after day after day. She was furious with
Daet
when he showed an unforgiving attitude toward her friend. She fought the urge to scream,
“Don’t you know what she’s going through?”

On a day not long after the frolic, Martha dropped off a couple of dozen sugar cookies she’d baked. Leah’s family was in the living room when she came, and Leah was dismayed when
Daet
took the plate of cookies without so much as a simple thanks. Even
Maem
frowned as she watched him leave for the kitchen without a backward glance at Martha.

Leah clenched her hands, remembering
Daet
’s rudeness. Sometimes she tried to justify his behavior by reminding herself he had no idea what was going on in Martha’s home. Her sacrifice for her sisters by remaining in that home went totally unnoticed by everyone—everyone but Abe and Martha, Leah, and Anna Mast. And Abner.

One night, as she lay in bed thinking of Martha, Leah remembered the pamphlet she’d been given by the Schrocks. She crawled out of bed and crept across the cold floor to the dresser, rummaging through her drawers until she found the pamphlet. She took it to the window and pulled back the curtain. As she scanned the brochure, she squinted in the dim light to read the paragraphs, looking for a line she recalled reading once before. There it was:
Mission to Amish People provides counseling to those who have been victims of sexual abuse.

“God, if You hear me, please help me know what to do. Help me know what to say to Martha. Please, God.” Tears slid down her cheeks as she slipped back to bed with a strong resolve to tell
Maem
everything tomorrow. She’d promised Martha she wouldn’t tell, but she couldn’t bear this burden alone. Someone else had to be told what was going on in the Mast home. Surely, the church and the bishop would help Martha once they knew what was happening.

She closed her eyes, but Abner’s angry face filled her thoughts. Her heart pounded when she recalled his features as he struck his stepsister. He was evil, and Martha needed her help. She needed
God’s
help. “Where are You, God?”

Morning came and, with it, a brilliant sun burning through the limp curtains at her window. Leah squinted as she rolled out of bed. Her limbs were leaden as she slowly dressed, pulling the hot modesty slip on first and then her dress. The straight pins she used to close her dress pricked her shaking fingers, and she sighed in frustration.
What was so sinful about buttons?

Finally, she had her hair up and pinned smoothly. She pulled the apron over her head last and leaned down to tie the laces on heavy black shoes.

Maem
was pulling bread out of the wood-fired oven as she came into the kitchen. The smells wafted over her, her stomach growling in anticipation.
Maem
pointed to two thick pieces of fresh bread, lightly toasted. A pot of apple butter sat nearby, enticing her to spread the thick, sweet confection on the warm toast. Her six-year-old brother, Benny, had finished his oatmeal, and
Maem
rushed him along so he wouldn’t be late for school as Ada came into the kitchen to grab her light cape off the hook by the back door.