The Shunning (28 page)

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Authors: Beverly Lewis

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BOOK: The Shunning
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“I ’spose word got out that young Levi and I had a cup of hot cocoa together down at the General Store one morning a few weeks back,” Ella Mae put in.

“Why would
that
matter?” Katie was truly astonished. How could such a small thing cause the People to turn their backs on an old woman?

“Ach, it’s hard to say, really. But it’s my guess that Levi Beiler went home and told his Daed that old Ella Mae Zook was saying this and that, and thus and so.” She reached over the table and patted Katie’s hand. “We do need one another, child. The People just ain’t enough, I fear.”

Now Katie was beginning to worry. Was her great-aunt’s mind truly failing her? She wasn’t making sense. “Well, the bishop and Preacher Yoder are only doing what they believe is best for both of us now,” Katie spoke up. “It’s das Alt Gebrauch, the Old Way, the way we’ve always done things here in the Hollow.”

Startled at her own words, Katie realized what she had just said. Had she spoken out of habit—defending the People that way—or was she beginning to believe that she deserved the temporary Ban? Was the weight of guilt beginning to press in on her? Was this how the Meinding ultimately worked to bring sinners to repentance?

Ella Mae sat up straighter, releasing Katie’s hand. “No, no, I ain’t talkin’ about your predicament with the church just now. You’re payin’ for your sin, that’s true, and you’ll probably be confessing here sooner or later. We all do. A body can’t go around forever without communing with friends.” She paused to catch her breath. “No, no, what I’m talkin’ about is far different. Something to do with eternity— where one life ends and another begins.”

Katie gasped. “Oh, Ella Mae, you’re not dying on me, are you?”

“We’re all dying in one way or t’other.” She got up to take the teakettle off the stove and pour the boiling hot water into two cups. Next came the sprigs of mint leaves. “You’re young, and you may be thinkin’ you have all the time in the world. But I hope ya don’t go wasting your allotted time—any of it.”

“Don’t go worrying about me,” Katie reassured her, still confused. What
was
the old woman trying to say?

Then, out of the blue, the Wise Woman spoke, her words reaching deep into the private corners of Katie’s soul, where no one else had ever dared to go. “I was born Amish, and I’ll die the same. The Plain life is the only life I’ll ever know. But you, Katie, you have a chance to see what’s out there, what’s on the other side of things.”

“You mean . . . the modern world?”

“It’s what you’re looking for, ain’t?”

The question struck Katie like a blast of cold air. Was it? Was she searching for the boundary line, the proverbial fence around the People? Hoping someday to break through, to find her true self? “Why are ya saying all this?”

“Because you seem out of place somehow,” Ella Mae said in a raspy whisper. “Always have.”

Katie felt a tingle of discovery. “I’ve been coming over here since I was little, telling you my troubles, trying to be a gut Plain girl—and here lately, an even better grown woman, worthy of the bishop’s . . . trust. I tried . . . but I failed. . . .” Her voice trailed away.

“You’re a thinker,” said Ella Mae, shaking her head. “Thinkin’ and submittin’ to the Old Ways don’t mix.”

Katie caressed her braid. “You’re probably right.” She stared off into space, remembering that Dan Fisher had said the same thing once.

Ella Mae placed a cup of mint tea in front of her visitor, struggling with her own conscience. Should she tell Katie what she and young Levi had seen a week ago? The black limousine and the worldly woman . . . with hair the color of Katie’s own? And the letter the lady was so eager to hand over?

She watched the poor girl hold the cup to her lips and sip her tea. When she set the cup in its saucer, she began to pour out her troubles in a steady stream—like the mint brew in the old teakettle.

“It wonders me about the strange thing Mam told me before my wedding day,” Katie began. “And I’m more puzzled by it now than ever.”

Ella Mae sipped, then sighed. “Ach, was it about that little dress you brought over to show me?”

Katie nodded. “That dress has changed everything. It’s turned my whole life upside down. The family’s, too.”

Ella Mae appeared not to notice Katie’s distress. “I believe I know what your mamma may’ve told ya, Katie. I wouldn’t sit here and lie to ya, pretending I didn’t.”

Katie was elated. At last, someone else—someone she could trust— knew the secret! Of all the People she could have chosen to speak with about it . . .

Ella Mae continued. “I saw her, Katie. I saw your birth mother, clear as day.”

Katie nearly choked on her tea. “My birth mother? Where? In Hickory Hollow?”

Ella Mae nodded thoughtfully.

“I can’t believe it! Why was she here?”

“She’s a-lookin’ for ya, Katie. Isn’t that what your mamma told ya?”

Katie fought back tears. “No, no, you must be mistaken somehow. Mamma never told me any such a thing.”

“Himmel,” Ella Mae whispered.

“Mamma told me that my real name was Katherine Mayfield—that I was given as an infant to her and Dat to raise after their fourth baby was stillborn. But she never said anything—” Her breath caught on a sob.

Ella Mae shook her head woefully. “Ach, I’ve spoken out of turn, I’m afeared. Forgive an old woman for heapin’ more pain on your head, child.” She set her cup down and removed her glasses to wipe her eyes. The startling truth, although she had suspected as much, tore at her heart.

“When did you see her . . . my real mother?”

“There was a letter over a week ago,” Ella Mae began, telling Katie how the fancy lady had approached her carriage at the General Store. “She pleaded with me to help her find a woman named Rebecca. Told her there were lotsa Rebeccas in the Hollow, but she seemed in an awful big hurry to get her fancy letter into the right hands.”

Without warning, Katie leaped out of her chair.

Following the direction of her gaze, Ella Mae peered into the shadows across the room. “ Ach, Mattie, is that
you
standin’ over there?” she muttered.

Her daughter stepped into the lantern light, revealing herself without a word, while Katie steadied herself, leaning hard on the back of the chair.

“What in the world?” Ella Mae spun around, nearly knocking over her cup of tea. “Land a-mighty, don’tcha ever knock, woman?” she scolded.

“I heard voices,” Mattie said, refusing to look at Katie. “And, Mam, you know better than to be talking to a shunned person . . . and sharing your table, too!” She marched toward them. “Katie best be leaving or I’ll have to report this to Preacher.”

“What’ll he do?” Ella Mae scoffed. “Meide a feeble old soul like me?”

“Mam! You best be reverent when ya speak of the shunning.”

Ella Mae turned to see Katie sitting forward in her chair, reaching for the tea. The cup trembled in her hand.
What wretched thing has
happened here?
she wondered. She ached clear to the bottom of her soul, for being the reason Mattie had overheard Katie’s family secret.
We should’ve been more careful
. That busybody had heard every bit of their intimate conversation. Now
that
was a worry.

“How long ya been hidin’ over there?” Ella Mae confronted her daughter.

“Just came in.”

But the Wise Woman knew. So did Katie. And by nightfall, so did most everyone else in Hickory Hollow—including Bishop John.

Twenty

K
atie Lapp’s adopted, and her real mamma’s out lookin’ for her. Now what do ya make of
that
?” Nancy Beiler asked her big brother as they swept out the barn.

“How do
you
know such a thing?”

“Heard it today at recess.”

Hickory John stopped for a moment and leaned on his push broom, eyeing his sister doubtfully. “Are ya sure ’bout this?”

Nancy grinned. “Came near straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“Whose?”

“One of our cousins.”

“A girl?” he teased.

“Jah, our second cousin, Sally Mae.” She sneezed in the wake of the dust they’d stirred up. “The way I see it, if it came from one of Aunt Mattie’s grandchildren, it’s gotta be true. Because Aunt Mattie was the one who overheard
her
mamma tell about meetin’ Katie’s birth mamma face to face.”

“Well, we all know how Aunt Mattie is, don’t we?” Hickory John laughed. “Can’t always go by whatcha hear.”

Out of the haze of dust and straw, Levi stepped forward, much to the surprise of Nancy and her brother. “Didja just say Katie’s
real
mamma’s lookin’ for her? Is that what I heard ya say?”

“You were eavesdropping, Levi Beiler!” Nancy scolded. “That’s a
greislich
thing for the bishop’s son to do! Now go in and get washed up for supper.”

Levi marched himself off to the house, mumbling about getting caught. “Guess maybe Daed might start payin’ attention to me from now on . . . ’specially when I tell him about red-haired strangers comin’ to our front door!” she heard him say.

————

Katie waited until her father and brothers left the house for a barn raising near White Horse before deciding to speak to her mother. Rebecca had not been feeling well—an upset stomach, or so Katie thought.

Rebecca remained silent, leaning her arm against the table and sighing audibly.

“I’ll bring some tea up later,” Katie offered, hoping to hear
something
out of her mother. But there was not another sound.

How long would it take before Mam would start talking when there was no one around to overhear? She hadn’t purposely set out to trick her mother, but Katie was desperate for answers. Answers to the questions that Ella Mae had brought to her attention only yesterday.

Mute as a fence post, Rebecca seemed bent on forcing herself through the household chores. She did allow Katie to assist with the baking—bread and six dozen each of molasses cookies and apple muffins— to take to a quilting frolic planned for tomorrow. But along about ten-thirty, her mother collapsed into Dat’s big rocking chair.

Katie finished wiping off the counters and washed her hands. Then, stepping around to the small table that was hers alone, she paused and observed her mother. “It’s all over Hickory Hollow about my birth mother trying to find me,” she said. “Mattie got it all started, the nosy thing.”

Rebecca’s head seemed to bob in agreement, but Katie couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t caused by the motion of the rocker. “I never would’ve wanted to spread your secret around like this, Mamma,” she went on. “You know I’m telling the truth, too, because I had Preacher Yoder promise not to tell anyone.” She watched and waited, hoping Rebecca would say something—
anything
.

No comment came.

“Ella Mae said there was a letter. Do you know anything about that?”

The tiniest squeak passed Mam’s lips. Was that a reply?

Katie went over and knelt down, resting her head on her mother’s knees. “I’d give anything to know, Mam,” she said softly.

Rebecca’s hand found its way to her daughter’s slender back. She began to rub in soothing, circular motions—the way she always had when Katie was a little girl.

Cautiously, the words began to slip out. “I did a wretched thing with the letter,” she admitted. “I threw it in the stove—out of fear, mostly—but it got burned up all the same.”

“You burned it?” Katie lifted her head and the back rub ceased, but only for a moment. “Why did you burn it?”

“Just listen,” Rebecca whispered. And Katie, apparently basking in the sound of her mother’s voice, did as she was told. Rebecca put her hand on Katie’s head and could feel her daughter relaxing against her lap again.

“I was so awful worried and upset that day,” she went on, her voice breaking occasionally. “I thought the woman—your natural mother— was gonna come and take you away from us. But looking back on all that’s happened, I wish I’d kept her letter so you could be readin’ it for yourself right now.”

“Why does she want to find me, do you think?” Katie asked, not lifting her head this time.

“The doctor’s told her . . . she’s dying.” Rebecca’s hand paused momentarily before continuing its healing journey.

After a heart-stopping silence, Katie looked up. Rebecca could see the tears brimming in the girl’s eyes.

“What’s her name?”

“It’s . . . Laura. Laura Mayfield-Bennett. She must’ve kept her maiden name—and added it onto her married name. I’ve heard they do such things out in the modern world.”

Katie whispered the peculiar name into the air. “Laura Mayfield-Bennett.”

“Wait here.” Rebecca got up and found a pencil and a scrap of paper in a kitchen drawer. “I’ll spell it out for you the way I remember it.”

Katie studied the name on the paper—the strange English name. The letters squinted up at her, telling her—in some disconnected way—important things about herself. Things she did not fully understand.

“Did she . . . did Laura write her address down in the letter?”

“Honest, I don’t remember now.” Her mamma’s glistening eyes were proof she was telling the truth. “She lives somewhere in New York, I think.”

“New York City?” Katie gasped. “Ach, I hope not!”

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