Thomas Stoll stood looking out the tall windows of his father’s cabinet shop, his eyes sweeping over the fertile farmland. Southern Indiana was that way. An Amish farmer here could make a gut living at most anything he tried his hand at. It was cabinet work that was hard to make a good living at, removed as they were from the big cities.
The little town of Salem thought well of itself but produced few new homes or remodeling jobs. Daett refused to advertise widely, placing only a small sign out by the side of the gravel road and an even smaller one out on Highway 337, as if that made any sense. He wouldn’t even put “Amish” above the name. They just read “Cabinet shop,” as if that alone would attract interest.
When would this ever end? Was his life to be spent from grade school to the grave toiling in his father’s cabinet shop, keeping the business open, sending cabinets out the door one after another? Sure the work kept a little money in the bank, but working inside was nothing compared to the feeling of working his own land—land like so many others in the community had. Thomas surveyed the open fields, allowing the fantasy of his own farm to flow through his mind.
With a farm there would be fields of corn in the summer. Corn which gave enough to fill a towering silo. There would be waves of golden wheat in the fall growing next to green pasture grass. There would be cows—a herd of twenty or so, hanging around the barn, their udders sagging with milk. There would be a hay wagon to drive down the dirt roads. And all the while, the glorious feeling of being closer to the earth, to Da Hah, to life itself.
In his fantasy, Thomas could see himself able to afford a gut horse at the sale barn. A driving horse who could pass buggies coming home on Sunday nights from the hymn singing. Instead he had to drive Freddy, his slow gelding around and watch as other buggies passed him, pulled by fast horses purchased with farm money.
Sure, Freddy was okay, and he shouldn’t be complaining. Daett would be horrified at his unthankfulness. Daett always said Da Hah gave and Da Hah took, and one did not ask questions. Freddy was a decent horse and not that old. He never shied on the road or jumped fences in the barnyard, but a good trot was the limit of his preferable speed.
Thomas’s thoughts turned to Susan. He remembered how she had never complained about Freddy’s slowness the many times he’d taken her home on Sunday nights. Thomas sighed as he ran sandpaper over the grainy walnut wood. He was twenty-one now and on his own. He was old enough to buy what he wanted, but a fast horse wouldn’t be a wise investment on the limited income from the cabinet shop. Especially if he hoped to marry soon. Sure, he could put his money into the purchase of a farm, but farming was difficult work to learn if a person hadn’t been raised on one. He needed someone to teach him.
Was that why he was drawn to Susan? The thought turned inside him, but he pushed it away. It was not a fair question. Since grade school he had loved Susan, and there had been no thought of a farm back then. Only lately had it dawned on him what would happen after their marriage. He would be moving onto her family farm. If there had been any doubt about the matter, Susan’s father, Menno, had alluded to the fact last Thanksgiving over the noon meal.
“We are hoping you’ll be up to taking the farm over soon. After the wedding of course,” Menno had said. They had all laughed at the hurried reference to the wedding.
Susan had looked at him, happiness written on her face.
“It’s a nice farm,” Susan whispered in his ear later. They had held hands that night on the couch and talked far into the night after the others were in bed.
“I don’t know anything about farming. I’m a cabinetmaker,” he said.
“You can learn. Don’t you want to be a farmer, Thomas?”
“Of course I do. I’ve just never had the chance.”
“Then the chance will be coming your way soon,” she said, her fingers tracing his face. “I know you’ll make a gut farmer. As good as what Daett is himself.”
But that was then. Where is Susan now? Living somewhere in New Jersey. That was the word passed around in the community. He didn’t dare ask Menno or Anna. They might be on Susan’s side after his foolish actions. The thing with Susan had gone badly enough, and he wouldn’t risk more by seeming to use them to pressure their daughter.
What in the world had come over him anyway? A few minutes of talking outside in the shadows of Emery Yoder’s house, and he had given in to the sudden urge to kiss Eunice. And Susan had caught him in the act! Their future life together was over. He sighed again.
Yah, what Susan blamed him for had happened, but it wasn’t as bad as Susan claimed. Yah, Susan’s friend Eunice was impressive, and he had fallen hard for her. But it was not supposed to mean anything. Certainly it was not meant to break off the relationship he had with Susan. Even if Eunice liked him in return.
Thomas laughed. According to Susan’s version of things, he ought to be seeing Eunice now. But what a joke that was. He wasn’t in love with the girl. Impressed? Yah. Taken by her? Yah. But not in love. And Susan hadn’t helped things with all the praise she had heaped on Eunice when she and her family first arrived.
“Eunice is just the funniest girl I’ve ever met,” Susan had said. “She and I can share almost anything. Eunice has some of the best pearls of wisdom to give. She knows so much about life.”
Not that he had given it much thought at the time, but looking back, the praise certainly hadn’t helped. His interest had been stirred before he ever met Eunice in person. Now what was he to do? Write a letter to Susan? Thomas laughed again. Now that would really kill off the relationship. What kind of foolish letter could he write to New Jersey?
Dear Susan,
Thomas imagined the words looking awkward on the page.
I’m sorry for what happened between us, and I consider the matter to be mainly my fault. Please forgive me, which I don’t think you will. So now that our relationship is over, I’ve been thinking the last few months about also doing something crazy with my life. Something like leaving the Amish for the Mennonites. What do you think about that?
I know I never thought I would take such a step before, but I wanted to let you know how things are turning out. I’ve just been thinking that perhaps if I’d take such a step it would make it easier for you to return. Would you consider this, please?
I know you were happy on the farm, and I don’t want to be the reason for your departure from the Amish. So maybe I should leave, getting my tail out of the community for your sake. Would that help you with coming back?
I’m very sorry for what happened. I hope things are going well with you. Best wishes. Hopefully I will hear from you soon.
He laughed again. There would be no such letter. And he had no plans to join the Mennonites, Susan or no Susan. Nor did he plan to leave the community, even with how horribly things had turned out. Susan had refused to speak to him or see him after she caught him in the conversation and kiss with Eunice. Even when he visited her house later during the week, she sent her mamm to the door. She’d left the hymn singings by herself or with her cousin Duane.
But leaving for the Englisha world? Now Susan was taking things pretty far. Apparently he had totally misjudged her. Did she have a wild side all this time, and his interest in Eunice gave her the chance to do what she’d wanted to do all along? Susan was deliciously sweet but obviously a little dangerous. But that only added to her charm. She was still Amish at heart, and once Amish a person was always Amish. Is that not what Deacon Ray always said? Susan would surely be manageable if he could win her back. But how do I do that? he wondered.
Thomas jumped and looked up as his daett came through the paint room door.
“Phew, it’s rough in there!” his daett muttered, taking off his face mask.
“I’ll take my turn,” Thomas offered, lifting his mask off the wall.
“Take it easy in there,” his daett said as Thomas slid on the face mask and fastened the straps under his chin.
Thomas nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
He glanced around, trying to see with the amount of light coming in from the windows. Gas lanterns couldn’t be used in the paint room, and there were no electric lights, of course. Even a small portable generator was out of the question. Deacon Ray would be down here the first Saturday night if he heard such news. No excuses would be accepted. What a shame that was. On cloudy days like this, even the large windows all along the outer wall let in insufficient light for running the air sprayers.
The quality didn’t suffer, but it sure strained the eyes and slowed the work. Why must life be so hard to maintain the traditions of the fathers? But he shouldn’t be questioning his life right now. Still, that was apparently what happened to a man’s thinking when a girl sent him packing. Leave it to a girl to muddle it all up until he couldn’t tell which side of the world was up or down. She had even provoked him to think about leaving for the Mennonites. That was too awful an idea to even think about.
Thomas grabbed the stain gun and began, running a thin spray up and down where his daett had left off. As he worked, he couldn’t stop his thoughts. Perhaps I should take Eunice home some Sunday night? The idea jolted him. What an awful thing to consider. And what if Susan found out? But Susan is in Asbury Park. He smiled, running the sprayer up and down the cabinet doors. What would it be like to have Eunice with him in the buggy? No girl had ever sat there but Susan or his sisters. Was Eunice really as much fun as Susan said she was? That conversation outside Emery Yoder’s house had been interesting enough.
He could sneak Eunice out some Sunday evening without anyone knowing. That is, if my sisters could keep their mouths shut. And they would if they knew what was good for them. His hand paused, the sprayer light in his fingers, his heart racing at the thought.