Chapter Twenty-Four

It was a sunny, blissful morning with just enough breeze to keep the temperature mild. A visiting choir was coming to the church to spend the day with them. Emma looked forward to hearing them sing, although she was unsure of the accompanying instruments they used. But this entire trip was about new things, so she learned to be open to whatever came her way.

Emma placed the inhaler in her dress pocket. She’d tried it once and it worked well, but she wasn’t comfortable using it. Just having it at hand made her feel better.

When the group arrived, the Amish came down to greet them. The African American men and women ranged from teenagers to young adults, much like the ages of the Amish.

They awkwardly introduced themselves to one another, the Amish offering their one hand pump and the English accepting with a grin. Once they sat down to share lunch, things seemed to lighten up a bit. One young man made an extra effort to meet as many of the Amish as he could.

“I’m Adrian.” He shook Emma’s hand and then Mark’s.

“This is the way you do it where I come from.” Mark offered his hand to Adrian and pumped his hand once. “That’s it. None of this sliding palms or bumping fists.” Mark grinned, egging him along.

“This one is even better.” Adrian put his fist up, and Mark mimicked him.

“Peace.” He hit the top of Mark’s fist.

“Love.” He hit the bottom of Mark’s fist.

“Unity.” They bumped fists.

“Respect.” They touched thumbs. “That’s what they do in Jamaica.”

Emma watched Mark’s face glow as he learned a new custom and made a friend in the process.

They ate together, laughing and sharing stories. It was as if they’d known one another for a long while, rather than the single hour that they’d just spent together.

The group put on shiny blue robes and gathered together on the church stage. Being used to good craftsmanship, Emma worried the old stage might fall into pieces with the large number of them, but no one else seemed concerned. The choir participants moved around, clapped their hands and lifted them as high as they sang.

“They sing gut for English,” Mark commented with a grin.

Emma absorbed the music when they sang “What a Friend I Have in Jesus” and “Amazing Grace.” “I really like that one. I wish they’d sing it again.” They also sang some songs that reflected their culture, which were interesting, but not what she preferred. Dancing and shaking their bodies while clapping were a bit much. Mark, on the other hand, seemed to love each and every song as he clapped along with a smile plastered across his face.

Caleb came over and sat with her. “I thought we’d take them to the park.”

Emma brightened at the idea. She had noticed how well they were doing together and hated for them to leave. She could see how well Caleb dealt with these groups. Being flexible and spontaneous was a must, and she was learning how to respond as he did when surprises or changes rearranged the order of things. “That’s a wonderful gut idea.”

“What’s a good idea?” Monique sat next to Emma. She didn’t look as tired as usual, but she didn’t smile. Not that she ever did, but her features were grim. Emma remembered back to the first day they met, when Emma had been sure they’d never come to a good place. Yet after much prayer and the opportunity to help heal her, here they were, sitting side by side. Emma hoped nothing would happen to reverse things back to the way they were.

“Let’s go to the park and fly a kite.” Caleb said it so enthusiastically, Monique rolled her eyes and shook her head. She seemed to be in no mood for playfulness.

Emma hoped she hadn’t had contact with Abe. He had control over her in a way that couldn’t be undone—at least, not yet. Emma would do whatever she could to help the vicious cycle end, but it all depended on Monique. She would rise above it or get swallowed up again.

Emma had grinned when Caleb suggested flying a kite. She’d never flown one but had always wanted to. Of all the things she was curious about, this was one she was truly interested in. It was silly, she knew, to want this experience more than others, but it freed her to think of maneuvering something up so high in the air.

Caleb moved closer and squinted his eyes. “You really want to do this, don’t you?” He seemed amused, yet serious about it at the same time.

Am I being obvious?

Monique rested her chin in her palm. Only her eyes moved as she scanned the room, always leery of her surroundings. She was completely uninterested in their conversation, bored with it, even. The young woman didn’t hold back her feelings and could be outright rude, but Emma understood, as Caleb did, that she’d been through a lot.

“Do you really have a kite?” Emma asked.

“Yes, I do. Also a volleyball net, Frisbees, and a soccer ball.” He lifted his brows. “Watch this.” He jogged up to the stage and waved his hands, a gesture to which the teens seemed to respond.

“Listen up. We’re going across the street to the park. Anyone who wants to join us is welcome.” He directed his attention to the visiting group and jogged back to Emma.

She couldn’t help but smile as he ran to her taking her to a large closet down the hall, where he dug around until he found the equipment he needed.

“We’ll grab this, just in case.” He pulled out the air pump and held a Frisbee in the other hand.

Some of the young men grabbed the rest and headed for the park.

She watched them cross the busy street and then scatter around the park. Some sat and talked by the tall fountain with statues of famous historical figures surrounding it. Others set up the volleyball net or played a game they called Frisbee golf. The weather couldn’t be more perfect, with a slight breeze and white, fluffy clouds overhead.

An alarm went off in Emma’s head when she didn’t see Monique. She turned around and went back into the church. When she passed through the lobby and to the eating area, she went to find Alex.

“Haven’t seen her since you left.” He stopped cleaning and looked around the room and back to Emma. “That’s not a good sign.”

“What do you mean?” Emma’s stomach began to roll, feeling something was off.

“She always goes back, Emma. It’s just a matter of when.” He handled a towel nervously and shook his head.

She took in a breath, frustrated with him for giving up so quickly. She didn’t care what the history was. “Maybe this time it will be different.”

“I used to pray for that, Emma. Now I pray for safety.”

“So you give up, just like that? You don’t try to keep her away?” Her face twitched with frustration, partly at Alex but more with Monique. She’d heard of women in her own community who were abused, but the bishop didn’t let it continue. They tried to work through the church to remedy the problem, not look the other way.

She turned and walked away before he could respond. Emma glanced back as she climbed the stairs. He was still watching her as he continued to wipe down the bench seats. He was obviously concerned, which fed Emma’s concern.

When she made her way up to the room, Emma was relieved to see Monique on the bed. One foot on the floor, tapping the wood beneath her high-top tennis shoes. She didn’t acknowledge Emma and kept her eyes fixed on the dingy, popcorn-textured ceiling.

“Are you going to the park?”

Monique scoffed. “No, I don’t play Frisbee. You Amish are so easy.” Her moods were as unpredictable as Mark’s, but at least it was something Emma was used to and had learned to live around.

“Jah, I suppose we are…but it might be good to get out for a while.” Monique was probably right, but Emma took no personal offense to it. She would rather be easily entertained than in the fast pace Monique was in. Deep down she wondered whether Monique felt the same but was so caught up in the only life she’d ever known that she defended it.

Monique sat up abruptly, her eyes narrowed. “Go play with your new friends.” With that she stood and left the room. Where the sudden bitterness came from, Emma didn’t know. Maybe something was said that triggered negative feelings, or maybe she just didn’t feel like socializing.

Now that Mark was being somewhat reasonable, Emma was put in a familiar position with Monique. At least it wasn’t both of them at once. Emma mustered up some strength and went to find Caleb.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she noticed the place was almost empty. All that remained was the staff and a few lingering teens and the group who wanted to go home that Caleb would be taking to the bus station soon. She found Caleb sitting in an old, tattered beanbag chair, and plopped down in an avocado-green one.

“Comfortable?” He grinned as he watched her squirm around, trying to adjust to the strange chair.

“Nee, not really.” She let out a sigh and looked upstairs for any sign of Monique. “She’s not going to the park.”

“So you’re not, either.” He said instead of asked.

“Nee, I would worry.”

“You’re not her mother, Emma. It’s good of you to care for her and be there for her, but you have to let it go. She’s going to do whatever it is she’s going to do. And all you can do is be there for her again when she falls.”

“That’s negative—for you to be so sure that she’ll fail.”

“I hope I’m wrong. But I doubt it. This is all she knows. The only way to change that would be to modify her environment and keep her away from the bad things she’s been involved in.”

“I can’t think about it that way. I have to have hope she’ll change her ways.”

“I hope so too. But she has to want to change.” He reached for her hand, and she responded without hesitation, almost expecting the common gesture. She had grown accustomed to him clutching her since she’d come here. He’d done it since they were children—instinct, she supposed.

“Everything is so much better with you here, Emma.” He looked up as if to see in her eyes whether she was comfortable with his words.

She slowly turned her head, trying to think of the right response. The one that immediately came to mind was how she felt when he was at the farm with her.

“I feel the same when you’re home.” They seemed to both want to be together, but in their own worlds. Being with him now was good only because she was with him, but if she wanted him in her life, she would have to compromise, and living in the city wasn’t something she could do.

His bright eyes dimmed at the words. His struggle was the same as hers, and neither could give up where they felt they belonged. She closed her eyes in silent prayer, asking for strength and wisdom. Gott had brought her there for a reason, but now so many reasons competed that she wasn’t sure which was the most significant.

“I get confused as to what I’m supposed to do since I’ve come here.”

Caleb looked to the floor. Disappointment or just plain sadness seemed to penetrate him.

“Maybe you’re trying too hard. Maybe you just need to be and not worry about the rest.”

She didn’t totally understand what he was saying, but it was enough to let her know she should slow down and take it as it came. At a place like this, that was about all you could do.

She noticed his eyes shift and look behind her. Monique swung a bag over her shoulder and moved quickly down the stairs. As she got closer, Emma waited for her to stop, but she didn’t. Emma saw her eyes, heavy and bloodshot, and knew something was on her mind.

The front door opened, causing Emma and Caleb to look that way, away from Monique. Wherever Abe was, his followers were too, harassing anyone who was vulnerable.

Abe stood with his back against the glass door watching Emma’s reaction as Monique went past him and down the stairs. A toothpick stuck to his lip as he smiled. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned back to hold the door open. His eyes followed Monique until she was out of sight, and then looked at Emma.

“You’re done babysitting. She’s mine now.”

At that moment, some in the group came back from the park, talking about Abe as they went up the stairs to the church. As they passed Abe, he grinned and watched each of them stroll by.

The Amish frowned and tried their best to ignore him. The city kids showed more anger toward him, but neither had an impact. Abe had apparently accomplished what he’d set out to do—discourage the Amish, anger the group of city kids, but most of all, to capture the pawn. In either place she went, Monique was a hostage.