St. Ignatius, Montana
Lack of planning never paid off. Raymond threw back his shoulders and marched through Valley Grocery Store to the deli. Lucy Cotter’s perturbed stare from her perch on a stool behind the cash register did nothing to improve his mood. She didn’t offer her usual cheery salutation. In fact, she frowned and looked as if she might say something else. But she changed her mind.
He should have asked Christine to go to Kootenai Falls with him when he dropped her off on Saturday. He’d been living in the moment. Given his background as a kid, that wasn’t surprising. A person never knew what might happen next, so he should simply enjoy the here and now.
No Christine behind the counter in the deli.
He sighed and turned back. Fergie Cotter stepped into his path. “Could I have a word?”
Raymond knew Fergie by sight, but they’d never spoken beyond a simple “Morning.” Raymond nodded.
“Not here. Outside.”
Raymond followed the rotund man whose homemade dark-blue denim pants made a rubbing sound between his thighs when he lumbered through the aisle out to the store’s front porch. The man was built like Humpty Dumpty. Fergie pointed to the lawn chairs for sale next to a pile of fireplace wood. “Have a seat.”
“I think I’ll stand.”
Fergie shrugged. He removed a toothpick from his mouth and rolled it between chubby fingers. “Were you looking for my niece Christine?”
No point in denying it. She was a grown woman. “Yes.”
“You don’t know much about Amish folks, do you?”
“Actually, I’ve done my research.” After their outing on Saturday, he’d powered up his Mac and learned everything he could. He wanted nothing of white man’s religion for himself, but he thrived on understanding what others believed. “You have concerns.”
“Christine has lived a quiet life among her own people in West Kootenai.” Fergie drilled Raymond with a frown. “We choose that for our children.”
“She’s a grown woman.”
A grown white woman. To get to the why required more time. More conversation. Raymond studied people.
“Who has chosen to live her faith. Which means keeping herself apart from the world and its worldly ways.”
“Sometimes learning about the ways of other people reinforces your own beliefs.”
“I understand why you might think that. I don’t expect you to understand why we choose to live apart from the world—”
“No, I do understand. My people were not given that option.”
“I know enough about your history to have great compassion for the Native American Indians—all the many tribes. The Anabaptists were also persecuted.”
Raymond started to interrupt. Fergie held up his hand. “But that’s neither here nor there. Right now I’m only concerned for Christine’s well-being. I’m asking you to leave her be.”
If Raymond could he would. He wanted to leave her alone. A Native man like himself—albeit one who had white man’s blood running through him—wanted nothing to do with a white woman in his head. Why this particular white woman demanded his attention, he simply couldn’t say yet. “That’s for her to decide.”
“Do you feel an obligation to honor your elders’ wishes?”
“I do.”
“Then why would you make it hard for her to do the same?”
A Native man didn’t put these feelings into words—especially not to the woman’s elder. “I understand your concerns, and I promise you I mean her no harm and have no disrespect for your beliefs or culture.”
“I know you believe that.” His pudgy jowls turning a bright red, Fergie chewed on his toothpick for a few seconds. “If she continues to disrespect our wishes, she’ll be sent to her family in Kansas. Did she tell you she stayed with us in St. Ignatius because she has a special friend who intends to marry her?”
She had not. In fact, she’d said little about herself. She had a way of being still and listening as if every pore of her being absorbed his words. As if she thirsted to know. Raymond didn’t find that quality often in his colleagues at work. His relationships with women had been sweet sometimes, but always short, because of him, not them. It had been a long dry spell since a falling out with the one woman who’d matched him stride for stride in thought and deed. Tonya’s face flitted across his mind’s eye and disappeared into a mist filled with what-ifs.
“No, and I didn’t ask. We don’t know each other well enough to share that sort of thing.”
“But you wish to.” Fergie punctuated every word with a huff. Lines deepened around his eyes and mouth. “You’ve thought of it.”
As much as Raymond desired to relieve the man of his discomfort, he couldn’t lie. “I haven’t traveled that far yet. I’m trying to discover what it is that keeps bringing me back to this store.” He pointed to the sign. “It’s not the horseradish cheddar cheese.”
“And I’m asking you not to go down that road. Honor my request.”
Christine had what her people so quaintly referred to as a special friend. He should leave it alone. She’d separated from her family in order to keep that man in her life. The honorable thing to do would be to respect it. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.” Fergie pushed the door open for a mother and the toddler who held her hand. He smiled and nodded at her. When he looked back at Raymond, the smile disappeared. “Take care.”
“You too.”
Fergie went inside. Raymond stood on the porch, staring at the Mission Mountains beyond the valley. They were purple and white today. Clothed in majesty, according to the white songwriter. He breathed the cool autumn air and let the fraught feelings of the previous moments leave his body on the stream. What happened next would not be up to him or to Fergie Cotter.
Christine had a say in her life, however small it might be in the Plain world.
He dug his car keys from his jean pocket and stomped down the stairs.
“Psssst, pssst.”
He turned at the persistent sound emanating from somewhere behind the piles of fireplace wood at the far corner of the store’s front porch. Esther Marie stuck out her head. “Excuse me, R-r-r-raymond Old F-f-fox.” She waved a white folded piece of paper in his direction. “Chris-t-t-ttine asked me to-to-to-to give this to-to you.”
She disappeared around the corner. Raymond followed. Her bike was propped against the wall. The homely girl’s cheeks were pink. Her prayer covering lay askew on her head, and strands of her dishwater-blonde hair had escaped. He held out his hand, and she laid the note on his palm as if giving him a great gift. “Thank you.”
She ducked her head. “I have to go t-t-t-to work. I’mmmm late.”
“You are a kind person and a good friend, Esther Marie.”
She didn’t answer, but her cheeks went scarlet. She rushed around the corner. A second later the door banged.
Raymond waited until he sat behind the Volvo’s wheel before he unfolded the note. Christine’s handwriting proved to be neat and painstaking. Like that of a fourth grader taking a test.
Raymond,
I can only hope you come to the store to buy fresh cheese and bread for your gramma. If you do, Esther Marie can give you this note. Otherwise, I don’t know when I’ll see or talk to you again. My aunt and uncle have decided I should stay at home. I’m to clean their house, do laundry, cook, and tend the garden. It’s like being back in West Kootenai. They’re not wrong. I know that. But my heart hurts. I like working at the store. I like talking to customers. I like talking to you.
You never said what came next. You said you would teach me. I still want to learn. I don’t think God finds learning bad. Do you?
If you get this note, meet me at the Amish school at seven o’clock next Saturday morning. My aunt and uncle will go to Libby to visit his mother for the weekend. It’s our Sunday off from services. If you don’t come, I will understand.
Sincerely,
Christine
No mention of the special friend. No mention of feeling guilty about going behind her family’s back to see him.
How did he feel about that? He read the words again and then a third time. Running his fingers over the paper didn’t help to ferret out the feeling behind them. A hawk caught his gaze. It soared overhead, dipped a wing, then flew from sight, seeking food in another place behind the horizon.
Christine was a smaller version of that hawk. More of a sparrow longing to soar higher and faster than her flock permitted. To see more of the world before being confined to a cage gilded with beautiful mountains and towering conifer forests.
He would give her that and then send her back to where she belonged. However hard it might be, it was the honorable thing to do.