Miriam's Quilt Page 8
“Oh, jah, surely they will want to befriend the unwed pregnant girl who plans to give up her baby.”
There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice. Susie was understandably frightened, but why did she have to be so ungrateful? Miriam had bent over backward to make this work out for them.
“I just wanted someone to love me, Miriam. Is that so wicked?”
Miriam tried to ignore the stab of indignation that Susie’s declaration gave her. What Susie had done was wrong because she sought for love outside of the arms of Jesus. “You are loved.”
“I am ignored.”
Miriam pulled a dress out of the basket. “Here, I will help you.”
Susie didn’t reply, but a tear slipped down her cheek. Miriam’s irritation won out, and she couldn’t muster any sympathy for her sister just now. She’d gotten herself into this mess. Miriam was trying to help her out of it.
They worked alongside each other in silence, fastening the clothes to the line and then sliding the rope so the laundry rose higher and higher into the air. With not even a hint of a breeze, the clothes hung limply on the line, waiting for the sun to dry them.
Miriam heard the crackle of tires on gravel and turned as a police car slowly made its way up the driveway. She held her breath. There was almost nothing more frightening than the sight of a police car. It could only mean that something terrible had happened to someone they loved.
Miriam dropped the wet apron in her hand and sprinted for the house. Could Aunt Erla have taken a turn for the worse? Or had there been a buggy accident with one of the neighbors? Miriam’s heart raced with the possibilities. “Mamm, Dat, come outside quick.”
Mamm was coating chicken to fry for supper. Concern bloomed on her face when she looked at Miriam. “Is there an accident?”
“Where’s Dat?”
“In the barn.”
“Come outside.”
Miriam bolted out the back door and found her dat pitching hay. “There’s a police car come up the lane.”
Dat frowned, stabbed his pitchfork into a bale of hay, and followed Miriam.
The policeman turned off his engine and got out of his car just as Dat and Miriam reached it. Mamm emerged from the house wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“I’m looking for Mr. John Bontrager,” said the policeman.
Dat removed his hat. “I am John Bontrager.”
By this time, Susie and the three little boys had gathered near the police car with eyes wide, as they stared at the shiny badge and gun holstered at the officer’s side. Miriam had never seen anyone quite so intimidating.
“Your son Yost has been arrested and is being held at the Sun Pines Juvenile Detention Center.”
Miriam’s stomach lurched as if she were falling down a flight of stairs. There must be some mistake.
Mamm put a hand to her throat. “Arrested? Why?”
“I do not understand,” Dat said.
The officer kept any emotion from his voice. “We caught him selling drugs in the city park.”
* * * * *
Miriam swept the floor for the third time that day. She didn’t have the heart to do anything useful while she waited for Mamm and Dat to come home. They had been gone since eight o’clock that morning, and it now was long past suppertime. Miriam and Susie had fed the three little boys and told them to go play. Instead of bolting outside at the first opportunity, they moped around the great room as they kept their eyes on the front window for any sign of Mamm, Dat, or Yost.
Susie knelt in the corner, scrubbing the seams in the wood floor with an old toothbrush. She sniffed periodically as she swished the toothbrush back and forth.
Miriam let out a sigh and put her hand on her hip. “You don’t have to do that, Suz.”
Susie turned her head and looked at Miriam out of the corners of her eye. “I want it to be as clean as the day we got it.”
“It will never be that clean again.”
Susie stubbornly stuck to her futile task. In another hour, she’d have three or four square inches of floor sparkling clean.
More than anything, Miriam wanted to believe the entire affair as some sort of misunderstanding. The policeman had told Mamm and Dat that they weren’t allowed to see Yost until this morning, when they could meet with a caseworker to evaluate Yost’s situation. Miriam had prayed more than once today that they would bring Yost home with them. What if he had to stay in detention? The thought sent panic surging through Miriam’s veins. Lord willing, Yost would be allowed to come home.
Isaac and Raymond, standing at the front window, both yelled at the same time. “They’re here. They are back.”
Miriam bolted out the door with her little brothers and stood at the front gate while a white car ambled up the driveway. Yost, looking as pale as a sheet, slid out of the backseat, followed by Mamm and Dat. He kept his eyes to the ground as Dat paid the driver then shuffled to the house while his family followed close behind. Six-year-old Raymond tried to grab Yost’s hand, but Yost pulled away and quickened his pace to the door.
As they entered the great room, Yost turned to the stairs to ascend to the safety of his room.
“Nae, nae, Yost John,” Dat said, pointing to the sofa. “You will sit here, and we will talk.”
Yost slouched his shoulders and plopped himself onto the sofa. When Dat used that tone of voice, no one dared disobey him.
Miriam grabbed Raymond’s hand and pushed Callie and Isaac toward the kitchen.
“Let them stay, Miriam. They will want to hear what I have to say in case they think of being so foolish in the future.”
Miriam hesitated, but Dat motioned for the little boys to sit on the floor next to Mamm in the rocker. Miriam backed away to the wall, unwilling to bring herself any closer to the conflict between father and son. She wanted to run to the far pasture.
Dat wasted no time. His first words were loud and harsh. “Shame on you. What were you thinking?”
“Dat, I’m sorry—”
“The answer is, you weren’t thinking!” Dat yelled, not caring what Yost had to say for himself. He scowled and pinned Yost with a look that could have frozen the sun. “Do you know the evil you have brought into the world with your actions? How many people have taken that poison into their bodies because of you? How many children are addicted because of you?”
Miriam had never seen her fater so angry. In truth, she had never seen him lose his temper in her entire life. His usual calm, loving manner had completely disappeared.
Dat paced up and down the room and yelled even louder. “People die every day because of drugs. There are evil men who kill people for drugs. They kill people. You have blood on your hands!”
Yost buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean—”
“Look at me,” Dat said. “Look me in the eyes so I know that you understand what you have done.”
By this time, Susie had tiptoed into the room. She stood beside Miriam with her eyes wide and her fingers clamped around Miriam’s wrist. All three little boys were now crying. Isaac dug his fists into his eyes. Raymond clamped his hands over his ears to shut out the yelling. Mamm held on to the arms of the rocker as if by sheer will she could make Dat stop.
Yost glared at Dat through his tears. “I wanted to buy a car,” he said, his voice barely audible.
Dat’s face turned red. “Our family is shamed because you wanted to buy a car? Our community is shamed because you wanted to buy a car? You greedy, selfish boy. I raised you better.”
Yost sprang to his feet and stood toe-to-toe with Dat. “If you had loaned me the money to buy a car, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Dat lowered his voice to a growl. “You are responsible for your own actions. Until you learn that, you will continue to wallow in wickedness. Shame on you. Go to your room and think upon your sins instead of who you can blame for them.”
Yost didn’t have to be excused twice. He turned his back on Dat, stomped up the stairs, and slammed the door to his room
so hard that it rattled the rafters.
Mamm, with tears trailing down her cheeks, gathered the three little boys in her arms and hugged them tightly.
“Does he have to go to jail?” Miriam said.
A soft knock at the door sent Mamm and Susie and the boys fleeing for the safety of the kitchen. “I don’t want to see anybody,” Mamm said. “Just make them go away.”
Dat opened the door. Bishop Schwartz stood on the doorstep holding a small book in his hand. “How is Yost?”
“You heard?” Dat said.
“Martha Kae saw the commotion at the park, and then the Bielers came to the house last night.”
“Jah,” Dat said, “they were at the detention center this morning with Joe. He and Yost were selling drugs together.”
Joe Bieler—the one Yost envied because he had a car.
The bishop nodded, a mixture of sympathy and resignation on his face. This was not news to him. “Is Yost still at the jail?”
“Nae, he has been released to us,” Dat said. “The judge says he must be under house arrest for three weeks and then, if he behaves, probation for six months and a fine.”
Miriam felt a tiny bit better. At least Yost would not be locked up like an animal. She couldn’t bear the thought.
“Would you like me to talk to him?” the bishop asked.
Dat glanced at Miriam. “I think another day would be better.”
Bishop Schwartz laid a hand on Dat’s shoulder. “Of course. I am sure it has been a bad day for all of you. I brought him a prayer book he might find comforting.”
Dat took the small book and handed it to Miriam. “Take this to your brother, would you?”
“What can we do to help?” Miriam heard the bishop say as she numbly dragged herself up the stairs to Yost’s room.
What can we do to help?
Miriam felt dizzy. Martha Kae had seen the arrest and the bishop had already visited with the Bielers. No doubt the news had spread to every Amish home in the community. There would be no hiding this latest family tragedy from Ephraim.
Holding back a flood of tears, Miriam knocked on Yost’s door and entered without waiting to be invited. Yost paced back and forth in the small room he shared with Raymond like a caged animal. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“The bishop brought this for you.” She held out the book to him, but he didn’t take it.
Instead, he threw up his hands. “The bishop? Why did he come?” He turned his back on her, raised his fist, and pounded the wall.
Miriam set the book on his bed and ignored what felt like a gaping hole in her chest. “Are you okay?”
“Would you be okay after getting arrested and then having Dat yell at you like that?”
“He is very angry.”
“I didn’t mean no harm to anyone. I want a car, a little freedom. Is that too much to ask? But Dat doesn’t care how I feel. All he cares about is the shame I brought to the family.”
“You got arrested by the police, Yost. What do you expect from us?”
Yost growled in frustration, sat on the bed, and clenched his fists. “I feel like I’m going to explode, like if I sit still I will break into a million pieces. I hate it.” He dug his hands into his thighs. “I want to be left alone. Can’t people see I want them to leave me alone?”
He looked so pathetic, sitting there like a naughty schoolboy who’d been severely disciplined by the teacher. Even though he acted unreasonably, Miriam felt sorry for him. She softened her tone. “Can’t you see how you brought this on yourself?”
His eyes flashed with fresh pain as he snatched the prayer book from the bed and hurled it across the room.
Miriam flinched.
“Save your sermon for someone who cares,” he said.
Scowling, Miriam put her hands on her hips. “I’ll leave you to wallow in your self-pity. I’ve heard how badly you want to be left alone.” She turned on her heels and marched down the stairs. Only when she got to the bottom did she realize how much she was shaking.
Everyone but Dat had congregated in the kitchen, hoping to find comfort in each other. Susie stirred the stew and whimpered softly. Raymond had his arms clamped securely around Mamm’s waist as she leaned motionless against the counter. Callie and Isaac set the table in silence.
Miriam took the stack of paper napkins from Callie. “Let’s fold these to look like little flowers. I will show you.”
“We are going to be all right. It will be alright, Lord willing,” Mamm said. She smoothed Raymond’s hair. “We must all pray very hard for Yost.”
“Will the police come again?” Callie asked.
“They will come to check on Yost sometimes,” Mamm said. “That is one of the rules.”
“I don’t like their guns,” Callie said.
“Does he have to go back to jail?” Raymond asked next.
Mamm shook her head slowly. “Not if he obeys all the rules.”
Raymond wiped tears from his face. “Dat must make him obey all the rules.”
Miriam concentrated on folding the flimsy paper napkins. Napkin design was so much safer than real life.
Someone else knocked at the front door. Susie pretended not to hear, and Mamm stood as if listening to a distant train whistle. Miriam found herself sharing Yost’s sentiments. Why couldn’t everybody leave them alone in their shame?
She left her napkins and dragged herself to the front room. There certainly wouldn’t be happiness on the other side of that door.
Ephraim, with hat in hand, stood on her doorstep. He narrowed his gaze, and Miriam could see a vein pulsing in his neck. Her tongue suddenly seemed to swell, as if she had a mouthful of cotton.
“Can we talk?” he said.
Miriam nodded, stepped outside, and closed the door behind her.
“Oh, Miri, such a tragedy. I came to see how you are doing.”
“Terrible. We feel terrible.”
“How could Yost have fallen into this gross wickedness? I can hardly believe it. Selling drugs. I have never been so shocked as when I heard.”
Miriam could only incline her head. The lump in her throat made it impossible to speak.
“The only thing for your dat to do is to cast him from the house so he does not influence the little boys to follow in his footsteps.”
“Throw him out?”
“Your whole family is tainted with his sin as long as he stays, especially since your dat is one of the ministers. My dat said so.”
“But how can Dat throw him out? He has no place to go.”
“Yost should have thought of that before getting himself into trouble. When I think of the wickedness, I am almost sick.”
Miriam felt long-delayed tears stinging her eyes. “What he did was very wrong.”
“And selfish. Think of how his crime has affected your family. It makes you look weak in the eyes of the community. People wonder if your parents have neglected their duty to train up their child in the way he should go.”
“They do?”
“Where else should the blame be placed when a child goes astray?”
Miriam’s head began to throb. She massaged a spot above her right eye.
“We know what will become of him if he stiffens his neck and refuses to get off the path to hell. Remind him daily of his wickedness, Miri. Do not let him forget what he has done to you.”
Miriam didn’t respond. The last thing she wanted to do was give Yost another lecture. She’d seen how far that had taken her.
Ephraim swished his hair with his fingers. “I am so, so sorry for you. Yost must repent quickly of this great wickedness. I don’t want anything to delay our wedding.”
“Delay our wedding?” It is two and a half years away.
“I must go now. I only wanted to see how you are doing. I will pray for you every day, dear Miriam.”
“Denki,” Miriam said, forcing the air through her tight throat. “We will see you tomorrow at the singeon?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do y
ou think it would be wise for you to come? It is better that you should attend to matters at home.”
“Oh…I didn’t think of that. I will stay home if you think it best.”
“I do.”
She forced a smile. “Then I will see you sometime next week?”
“Jah, Lord willing. Good night.” He turned his back on her and sauntered down her sidewalk as if he were going to a picnic.
Miriam sighed and wiped away a lone tear. Seeing Ephraim usually sent her soaring to the sky with elation, but his visit had only succeeded in making her feel worse than ever. She felt selfish, wishing for Ephraim’s comfort at a time when the whole community reeled from the arrest, but loneliness still encompassed her as she watched him disappear into the darkness.
Chapter 10
“Anything I should know about before I look in these drawers?”
Yost stood in the doorway with his hands balled into fists, his eyes on the floor. He shook his head. Miriam waited beside him, fixing her eyes on the caseworker or parole officer or whoever he was as he opened one drawer after another and stirred Yost’s few clothes around, looking for drugs or something else illegal.
Mamm, Susie, and the three little boys had shut themselves in Mamm’s room while this Englischer invaded their privacy. One of the conditions of Yost’s release was that an officer of the court could appear at the home any time of the day to check on Yost and search his things for drugs. Only a week and a half after Yost’s release, the Englischer had already made three visits.
There wasn’t much to search. Yost and Raymond’s room consisted of two beds, a small chest of drawers, and a rag rug on the floor. The Englischer still managed to make a mess of the room as he checked under the mattresses and pulled clothes out of the drawers.
Leaving both mattresses askew, the chubby, balding man picked up his clipboard and jotted down a few notes.
He spoke to Yost, but Yost wouldn’t look at him. “Be at the justice center on Wednesday at three to meet with your parole officer. You’re doing good, but don’t forget that one of your parents must be with you at all times. If they both have to go out, you gotta go with them.”
Yost nodded, his eyes still glued to the floor. He had already experienced the humiliating consequences of that rule. Last Thursday, Miriam and Mamm had dragged Yost to a quilting bee. He sat in the corner of the kitchen at Mary Hoover’s house enduring the pitiful looks of the women and the curious eyes of the little girls. He had come home and barricaded himself in his room. From below, Miriam heard him pacing the floor and pounding on walls.