Chapter 37
S leigh bells rang out merrily, and Lilly smiled at the spray of snow Thunder kicked up as the cutter flew along the road to school. It had snowed the night before and Jacob had surprised her by bringing round the sled instead of the buggy. They’d left her mamm in good spirits after seeing to her needs and knowing that Mrs. Loder was due to stop in early that morning.
Her satchel of books bounced against the sled robe and she laughed aloud with delight as they sped down one hill and up another in a stomach-lifting thrill.
She felt Jacob’s eyes on her. “Do you want to drive?”
“What? Thunder? I don’t think so … we’d end up in the field.”
He handed her the reins, enclosing her small hands with his own much larger ones. Thunder sensed the change in drivers because he tossed his head and dropped his pace a bit.
“Just hang on and let him know where you want to go. You’re in control. It’s almost like driving the buggy.”
He withdrew his hands and waited while she frowned, then tentatively snapped the reins. “Go on,” she encouraged. “I’ve got to get to school on time, big fella.”
The horse drew to a stop and Lilly huffed at Jacob.
“A stubborn student,” he observed. She wasn’t sure if he meant her or his horse. She turned her gaze to Thunder’s broad back, then she made an imitation of the clicking combination sound followed by the rumbling hupp she’d heard Jacob use. The horse pricked his ears. She did it again louder, then slapped the reins. They were off down the lane, the landscape whizzing by. She turned briefly to grin at her husband.
“Horse talk!” she shouted. “Anyone can do it.”
He laughed aloud and took the reins as they pulled in to the school yard. Lilly was about to accept his praise when something caught her eye. A broken window in the side of the building, jagged with pointed glass, reflected in the sun’s early morning rays. She felt her stomach drop and then saw that the schoolhouse door stood wide open.
“Ach, Jacob. Something’s wrong.”
“Stay here a minute. I’ll have a look. It was probably just some kinner playing ball.” He handed her Thunder’s driving reins and went to the open door. When he didn’t return within a few moments, Lilly jumped down, tied Thunder to a hitching post, and followed Jacob inside. She climbed the steps of the porch and then stood, frozen in amazement, as she stared at the interior of the classroom.
The students’ wooden desks had been overturned and spray painted bright yellow and orange. Papers, supplies, and artwork were strewn and torn, some blowing forlornly from the wind that whistled in through the broken window. The chalkboards were spray painted as well. The welcome tree was torn in long strips with the snowflakes crumpled and trampled on the floor. Her desk had been upended and the wood deeply gouged. Its drawers had been flung about and emptied of everything. Even the new corkboard had been torn down and shredded, and her Bible lay facedown and open on the hardwood, treated so harshly its spine had cracked.
She automatically moved to pick up the Bible first, clutching it against her as she stood beside Jacob, who surveyed the scene with his arms crossed against his chest. Other Amish schools had been vandalized in years past, she’d known, but nothing like this had ever happened at the Pine Creek School. Her initial feeling of shock was fast turning to anger as she glanced at her brooch watch and realized that the students would be coming soon.
“The children will come. I can’t let them see this. Whoever did this deserves to be—”
“Why?” Jacob turned to look down at her, his expression calm.
“Why, what?”
“Why can’t the students see? It’s their school.”
She bristled. “Jah, and it’s supposed to be a place of safety and peace. Not this mess. “
“They can help you clean it up.”
She looked at him like he was narrish.
“What’s wrong with you, Jacob? Do you see this? How would you feel if it were your barn, your horses?”
He laid his hands on her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. “Lilly,” he said softly. “Remember, forgiveness first. Then you can be angry or hurt. Don’t forget the ways of our people, our history. Forgive first. Extend grace.”
Something quieted in her soul as she listened to him. He was right. Whoever did this deserved forgiveness just as the Lord forgave her when she sinned. She took a deep breath. “Danki, Jacob, for reminding me. It is … not so bad. We can straighten things out and pray for those who did this. Then we’ll have school as usual.”
Jacob gave her a quick hug. “Gut. Gut teacher.”
The students began to file in, their initial reactions very similar to Lilly’s until she gently reminded them of what Jacob had brought to her heart. Even Abel, who at first appeared bewildered, seemed to understand as he bent to pick up some papers.
They all worked together as Lilly began to hum some hymns and Jacob rode off to notify the school board. Within two hours, things were put relatively to rights, and she was able to work through an abbreviated daily schedule, calling on the younger students to come forward to recite their arithmetic.
Jacob decided the cutter was the fastest way to travel on the snowy roads and gave Thunder his head, soon arriving at the bishop’s farm. The old man was carrying a bag of feed over one shoulder with ease as the sled came to a stop.
“Jacob Wyse … spending time alone with your horse, hmm? How is your fraa?”
Jacob smiled and hopped out, wanting to take the 120-pound feed bag from him but knowing he’d only insult the man. “I’m afraid there’s been a bit of trouble, Bishop. The schoolhouse was vandalized sometime during the night. I left Lilly and the children there to finish with the cleaning up.”
“Bad off, was it?”
“The window needs to be replaced and desks need some repairing. The spray paint needs to be removed. The corkboards are gone and the blackboards aren’t in very good shape.”
“Let me put this in the barn and go tell Ellie. I’ll ride over with you and have a look.”
Soon they were headed over the roads and Jacob noticed that the bishop smiled at each dip and turn. “Now, this is gut for my heart, Jacob. Danki.”
“My pleasure. And my horse’s, of course.”
They were about to turn down the lane to the schoolhouse when the unfamiliar blip of a siren startled Thunder and he crow-hopped and began to gain speed. Jacob pulled him up as a police cruiser eased alongside them.
“Oh, boy—” the bishop muttered as they both recognized the face of the young officer who’d invaded Sarah’s wedding.
The policeman slid down his car window. “Hello … um … uh … I’m Officer Mitchell. Probably you might know me from that time I acted like a fool at a wedding of yours. But, I’m trying to learn … uh, anyway, I got two kids in the back here. I think they might be Amish, or at least one is. I wasn’t sure what to do. I caught ‘em early this morning spray painting the back of the post office in town. I wondered if you’d had any incidents out your way.”
The bishop cleared his throat. “Jah, the school’s been vandalized. But, we tend to handle these things by not involving outsi—the Englisch law. We have our own ways.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve been studying on that. I … uh … can you give some advice on what to do about the kids?” The officer’s face looked even younger than before against the white of the background snow.
Jacob felt compassion for him. “May we see them?”
“Sure … oh, sure.” He got out of the squad car and opened the back door. “Come on out, now.”
Tom Granger’s teenage son slid first from the seat, blinking from the snow glare. Kate Zook followed, her hair undone, and dressed in Englisch clothes. Jacob and the Bishop exchanged a brief glance.
“If you don’t mind, Officer Mitchell,” the bishop said, sliding from the cutter, “I’ll have you give me a ride over to the schoolhouse and you can let us off there.”
“Oh, yes … surely.”
Jacob stared straight ahead for a moment, then turned back to look at Granger’s son. “I’ll take the boy home in the sled.”
Officer Mitchell nodded with relief. “Great. Thank you so much. I didn’t fill out a report. Just figured they were kids up to some mischief is all. Not a lot to do around here for fun in the winter.” He went around to open the car door for the bishop, then hustled Kate back inside. He waved as they took off, leaving Jacob and Tom Granger’s son alone.
“Gonna get in?” Jacob asked after a minute. The boy wore a jean jacket and dark pants, but no hat or warm coat. He was tall and thin, probably about seventeen, with bleached blond hair and a sullen expression.
“No … no thanks, mister. If I go home, my dad’ll beat me. Plain and simple. I’ve had enough of it. He told me to get out and I’m out. So, you just drive on to your nice Amish life where everything’s perfect.” He jammed his hands inside his pockets and glared at Jacob. “Did you ever stop to think that if you pressed charges I might have had a warm bed in jail tonight?”
Jacob closed his eyes briefly against the boy’s words. To seek jail as a refuge. Images of the comfortable bed at his mamm and daed’s house came to him. Even the floor of his new home sounded better than what the boy had. He took a deep breath. “It’s not our way to press charges; we’re called to forgive.”
The boy snickered and scuffed at the ground with a dirty sneaker. “Well thanks a lot, buddy. Forgiveness is doing me a bunch of good right now.” He hunched his shoulders against the wind and turned to walk away.
“I stole a horse from your father.”
Jacob watched him stop and then look back.
“What?”
“I stole a mare from your dad. He shot me as I was trying to get away. I married a girl to help cover it up. My mother-in-law tried to kill herself on Christmas day. And I can’t read or write much.”
The boy took turned and took a step nearer the sled. “You must be one crazy Amish guy. I thought you people’s lives were perfect.”
Jacob nodded. “Yeah, my perfect Amish life. You think you’re the only one with problems and who makes mistakes, well … hiya, I’ve been doing it for a good long while.”
“Yeah, but you’re big. I bet no one ever beat you.”
“No, you’re right. But I beat myself up a lot inside.”
“It’s not the same.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“So, you’re of age.”
“My birthday was yesterday.”
“Why are you still at home if this is going on?”
“I just got kicked out, remember?” He eyed Jacob as though he was dumm.
“Why aren’t you working?”
“Who’s gonna hire Tom Granger’s son around here? It’s all Amish, just about.”
“I’ll hire you. What’s your name?”
The boy gave a rueful shake of his head. “Tom Jr. I hate it.”
“I’ll call you Tommy. My brother and I run a horse-breeding outfit. Do you treat horses like your father does?”
“No. I … I used to cry when I was a kid and he whipped them.”
“Fair enough. You come work for me and my brother for a year, sleep in the barn, keep things straight—you’ll have food in your belly and a warm place to lie down at night. Oh, and my wife’ll probably try to further your education; she’s the teacher hereabouts.”
“Then, it was her school that we … Why would you help me?”
“Get in. We’ll go together and tell your father.”
The boy clambered into the sled and Jacob tossed him a lap robe.
“I’m Jacob Wyse, and I’m helping you because I owe your father a debt in a way, and because I’ve got to live out my faith in what I do for it to be real—even if it means I make mistakes sometimes.” He started to turn the sled and smiled. “But I promise that helping you is no mistake.”
The boy was quiet for a moment, then spoke with grim enthusiasm. “No matter what you owe him, getting my father to agree to all this is going to be one ugly fight.”
Jacob smiled. “We’ll see.”
Half an hour later, Jacob, standing in front of Tom Granger, had to admit the boy knew his father’s temperament well.
“I know you for who you are!” The older man scoffed as he studied Jacob’s face. “Beard or no beard. You’re the horse thief.”
“That’s right,” Jacob said calmly. “And I’ve told your son all about it—with the exception of the price I paid for the mare.”
Granger’s face turned beet red as he glanced to where Tommy sat in the sled. “Well, you let the boy come up here and explain what you’re offerin’ to me. He’s got an obligation to his family, to work around here, not for some stupid Amish!”
“He says you beat him.” Jacob’s voice was level. “And that you kicked him out. How can you speak of family obligation?”
“You mind your own business, that’s what!”
“What exactly is the problem, Mr. Granger? Why the anger? The hatred? The bitterness is destroying you and your family. If you like I could—”
“You could what?” The irate man stared at him as if truly waiting for an answer. A moment later he gave a bark of laughter. “Whatever you think you could do I’m sure would be a real interesting idea. You go on now, and take that worthless boy with you. He’s no longer any son of mine!” He turned and slammed the door and Jacob eased off the porch with a sigh, having no doubt that Tommy had heard every word.
He climbed into the cutter with his shoulder and head throbbing distinctly, but he smiled at the boy’s pale face. “There. Not so bad.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Hang on, kid,” he murmured as he turned the sled away from the farmhouse. “Just hang on.” And he began to pray that the Englisch boy might have the hope of a different life.
Lilly finished a lesson on modern geography, grateful that the world globe had only been dented and not damaged beyond repair. She was just about to have the students line up to wash their hands from the large thermos of water she brought every day when a knock sounded on the door.
The children stilled in their seats. Lilly knew how they felt. She was still a little on edge after the morning’s happenings. She went to open the door and was surprised when Kate Zook entered, her eyes downcast, followed by the bishop.
“We’ve someone here to help with the cleaning when class is done, Mrs. Wyse.” The bishop said softly.
Lilly took in the smeared eye makeup and the bright paint stains on her clasped hands. Quickly, she pulled her cloak from its nail and covered Kate’s Englisch clothes, reaching gently to tuck her long hair in at its collar.
“John,” she called over her shoulder. “Please bring me a damp cloth.”
The boy obeyed, looking at his schweschder but saying nothing. Then he went back to his seat.
Lilly lifted the cloth with tenderness to the younger girl’s face. At first Kate stiffened, but then gave a faint sob as Lilly continued to remove the makeup, revealing the fresh skin beneath. Then she put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and led her forward. The bishop followed.
“Boys and girls,” Lilly began, “Kate Zook has come to help us clean up a bit. And the bishop has come to hear our lessons. Kate, why not sit here, next to Abel Beiler … and Bishop Loftus, please take my desk.”
Everyone was situated and Lilly was about to have a brief spelling bee when Abel spoke up in his monotone voice. “She has paint on her hands. The same as the board. And she looks funny.” He stared out the cracked window. “She’s the one who did this.”
Lilly glanced at the bishop, who met her eye with a twinkle in his own and thought fast. Here was a teachable moment, and she must not lose the opportunity.
She wet her lips and clasped her hands behind her back. “Yes, Abel is saying aloud what we’ve all been thinking. That Kate did this to the school.”
“Well, I wanna know why,” Reuben Mast yelled out without raising his hand. “And why don’t she get in trouble for it any. She just has to help clean up. My mamm would tan my hide from here to Lockport.”
“Reuben …” Lilly’s tone held a faint note of warning and then she said to the other children: “What Reuben asks is fair. But God’s love and the way He commands us to love one another does not have to do with what’s fair. Love and forgiveness depend on grace, on mercy—those things we cannot see but they may change the world in their giving. It is the Amish way, to go beyond fairness and to think about forgiveness first. Then we can be angry, or hurt, or sad.”
“Well, my mamm don’t think like that …” Reuben muttered, and the bishop choked on a laugh.
“Doesn’t,” she corrected. “Actions have consequences. Do you think Kate feels no pain about what she did? No sorrow?” Lilly glanced to where the girl sat with her head bent.
John Zook spoke up against his schweschder. “Maybe she’s just sorry that she got caught.”
“And maybe you, John Zook,” the bishop said, “are tired of all the attention your mamm’s been paying to Kate’s running around, and you’re a mite jealous of the whole thing. And maybe a little angry.”
John’s face flushed. “Jah, sir.”
The old man looked at Lilly. “Sei so gut, go on, Mrs. Wyse.”
“Well, I … I just want to remind us all—” She stopped, a motion from the back of the room catching her eye. Abel Beiler had leaned over, gently stroking Kate’s hair with his thin hand.
“She’s crying.” He looked at Lilly. “She needs some loves.” The boy moved to lay himself half over Kate, and the sound of her sobbing became audible.
Lilly’s eyes filled with tears, and the bishop suddenly withdrew a large hankie from his pocket and turned to look toward the cardboard-patched window. Lilly’s gaze swept over her scholars and she waited.
John Zook stood up first and walked back to where his schweschder sat. He awkwardly patted the side of her head where he could reach around Abel. The other students followed; each one moving to touch Kate, and when they couldn’t reach, touching the shoulder of the one in front of them, forming a circle of love about the girl.
Lilly sniffed and turned to look at the old man at her desk. “Bishop Loftus, I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure … our new student, Abel Beiler.”