CHAPTER NINE

 

Two months later…

 

Samuel Troyer picked at his cold breakfast.  Usually, strawberry crème pie was his favorite, but not today, for he had the strawberry picker on his mind.  Her resemblance to his daughter Sara sent waves of cold chills down his spine.

He felt like he’d caused her to swirl into town because he’d told his son, “Pray over your check-list, son; you’re not really praying.  Get down on your knees after your girls go to sleep and really talk to God.”  It looked like Jeremiah had gotten down on his knees, but God has sent the wrong girl.  Samuel rubbed his eyes.  What was God doing sending an outsider? 

“Another storm is coming,” he murmured.  He slowly slid a fork full of gelatin-coated strawberries in his mouth and tasted the hidden cream cheese layer.  It was very sweet and moist, and it was exactly like the pies that Sara had made.

He chuckled and stared at the heaping piece of pie.  Wasn’t it coincidental that God had checked off his son’s prayer list for a wife and sent in an outsider?  To make things even more unsettling, his granddaughter had already injured her by pushing her out of the tree house window.  He had to believe that this coincidence would have long left town if Rachael hadn’t misbehaved.

“We’ll definitely remember this strawberry season.”  He wiggled his brow and leaned back into the chair.  He would remember?   He had to ask himself why this outsider would leave a memory.  Like Lancaster County, Pennsylvania,   Walnut Creek and Millersburg were full of tourists, so why did this young lady stand out?

“I hope he doesn’t find out,” Samuel spoke with stress in his tone, and he had good reason, for he knew Mark Yoder, but hadn’t let his son know that Mark had relatives in their community.

Samuel closed his eyes, keeping them shut and began remembering the day that the community phone shanty had rung.  It had been a perfect morning; one of those mornings when the blue horizon seemed to extend forever and the cotton-candy clouds made one look up and watch them slowly slide across the sky.  A perfect morning breeze had swirled out of the fresh sky and he’d been able to smell the fresh-laundered clothes that had been hung on the pulling clothes line to dry under the glowing kiss of the orange-tinted yellow sun. 

Samuel frowned, squared his shoulders, as air rushed out of his lungs.  He held back tears and recalled that the perfect day hadn’t been perfect in Lancaster County, for in an Amish field a man of his faith, dressed exactly like him, was fighting for his life and defending his faith. 

He begun to softly sing the hymn that he’d sung on the way to the phone shanty that morning just as he eyed Jeremiah coming into the office doorway.  Keeping such a secret from him was wrong; he had to confess knowing about Mark Yoder’s untimely death. 

Truth be told, he would have told him if he’d asked before Miriam Yoder had come to town.  She was now attracting his son’s undivided attention.  This made Samuel feel uneasy.  Sure, he’d always wanted his son to find a wife, but deep down, he’d been selfish and controlling over Jeremiah. 

He sighed and looked up at his son.  Guilt plagued him as he leaned back into the chair and impulsively tried to close his eyes shut.  He blinked and smiled at his son. He was being selfish, and he knew it, but although he admitted it, he still wanted to have the unjust quality. 

It had been Jeremiah’s idea to grow the bakery and wholesale route, and Samuel had agreed.  However, he’d known that he’d be stretching himself and his son’s already long work days, but out of the excitement of having extra profits and new customers, he’d agreed with the expansion. A couple of months later, Sara and her husband had been snatched from them, and he and his son had been overwhelmed ever since that tragic event. 

“Mark Yoder is John Yoder’s uncle; he looked up to him as an excellent, unflawed role model.”  Samuel sighed and then took a bit of strawberry crème pie.  The sweetness tasted good, as did the memory of Mark Yoder’s legacy. “He left an awesome legacy for all of us.  I hope I would stand up for my faith if non-believers had me surrounded by machine guns, too.”

“Really.  How long have you known this, daed?” 

Jeremiah smiled, for he knew that his father hadn’t ever wanted him to get married because he’d always been his go-to business partner.  He was certain that this was a difficult time for his father.  He wished that there was something that he could do to make this transition easier for him.

“Ever since John Yoder and I had a talk at the saw mill,” Samuel replied with a guilty tone.

Samuel felt ashamed for not telling his son.  He knew that his son might get upset with him, and he wouldn’t blame him if he chose to be upset, for it was a father’s place to be honest with their kinner.

“So she has quite a legacy in her family.  She’s a beautiful young lady.  I’m quite fond of her.  You do know that, don’t you?”  Jeremiah leaned his head against the door entrance and smiled at his father. 

“We’ll have to talk about this later.  I have to get my Dutch Valley order in.  We have a very busy few ahead of us.”  Samuel forced a smile and pushed the half-eaten pie across his desk. 

“Okay.  I’m going to the haus to check on Miriam and bring her a Colby cheese sandwich and potato chips,” Jeremiah said as he turned away.

Jeremiah walked over and grabbed the six thick sandwiches.  He’d carefully crafted two sandwiches for each of his daughters and two for Miriam.  He had put extra Miracle Whip on Miriam’s two sandwiches to cheer her up; he’d overheard her telling Rachael that she loved eating Miracle Whip and cheese sandwiches. 

He never bought potato chips, for he’d always thought that they were full of empty calories and a waste of his hard-earned money.  However, here he was politely waiting in line at his bulk food store to pay for three bags: one bag for each of the girls. 

He had always ordered mayonnaise for the store deli, but he’d just switched to offering Miracle Whip, too.  He had to admit that he was trying to impress this blond-haired outsider.   It had been tradition for the girl to make pies and sweet rolls for the man that she was trying to catch; however, he’d broken that tradition; he’d gotten up at 3 o’clock  in the morning to make her strawberry crème pies and fresh sourdough sticky buns. 

You’re only feeling sorry for her because she’d injured.  His mind began rationalizing his unusual behavior, but he didn’t give in.  She’s the one! I just know it.  People that don’t listen to God don’t grow.  He knew that he wanted to grow and be blessed by God’s direction even if it meant upsetting his father.

Rachael had started taking control of the house, waiting on Miriam and her younger sister.  She seemed to glow and light up the whole room.  She’d started singing as she’d do the dinner dishes with Miriam in her wheelchair by the kitchen sink.  Miriam was everywhere Rachael was, and they had become close. 

She feels sorry for Miriam because she pushed her out the tree house window.  His mind was attacking his feelings again, and this time he half-way agreed.  He knew that Rachael had to have some guilt for thinking that Miriam was an expert tree-jumper like herself, and Rachael had to have heard customers asking about what had happened when they’d pull up the lane to buy produce. 

He had to admit that he felt like it was time for him to grow.  As he placed the food box in the seat of the buggy, he watched as the black cloud hung over the store parking lot.  Suddenly, a cloud burst of rain blew horizontally.  Currents of wind shook the black buggy.  Shopping carts started swaying through the parking lot and potted plants were tossed around like thin pieces of paper.

He tugged to keep his straw hat on, but the rain blew it off, almost yanking his left arm with it.  He jumped into the buggy.  Would it be too hard a storm to drive home in?  He knew that he’d driven in many a bad storm, and the horses were good at trotting during tough winds.  However, there was something about this store that felt different, and he didn’t like it.

“A Tornado’s coming from Sugarcreek.  It just took out several farms. It’s been on the ground for miles, and it’s pretty wide.  Anyone that’s not underground will not survive.  I’ve got Channel Six News On.  I’ve lived here all of my life, and it’s the first time that I’ve seen Bill Brach scared white.”  The firefighter jumped into the buggy and added, “It’s leveled a whole motel.  I’m not for sure about the fatality rate.  You need to stay put until the storm passes.”

“My sister didn’t listen when she was warned and paid with her life.  I won’t be that stubborn.  You want to come inside our store shelter?”  Jeremiah asked as the high-speed wind rocked the buggy. 

“I have to get back to the station.  We have a pretty deep hallway.  I’m sure we’ll be called out as soon as it passes over us.  Thank You for the offer.” 

Jeremiah dodged flying debris as he ran back into the store.  Customers were standing next to the registers talking to the store employees.  Tears were in their eyes, for their farms were their livelihood and they could feel that this storm would be like no other.

“We can rebuild.  Remember God is in control.  If we listen to Him, we can grow.  We will grow and rebuild.  I and my community will help you.”  Jeremiah walked closer to the customers to comfort them.  “Let’s get in the storm shelter in the back stock room area. I’ll get some bottled water.”

“Were the cell phone towers hit?  A young girl reluctantly raised a question.  Her short purple-dyed hair and double piercings stood out.  She blushed as she asked another question, “I’ve been trying to reach the motel but can’t get through. Did they get hit with the storm?”

Jeremiah’s heart took a nose dive and his head begun to spin.  “Who’s at the motel and which one are they at: Sunrise, Graber’s, or Country Charm?”

“My whole family is at the motel.  It was my parent’s graduation present to my baby sister.  She blushed again and stepped back out of the circle of customers.  “I am two years older than her, but you can’t tell it.  I’ve always had the baby face.”

Jeremiah probed, “Which motel?”

“They are at the one in Sugarcreek.”  The young girl’s eyes looked friendly and happy to be there.  The store lights flickered as she turned to walk out of the store.

“You need to stay here.  There’s a tornado coming from Sugarcreek!”  Jeremiah extended his arm, motioning for her to walk back over to the circle.

Horror engulfed the young girl’s face, but quickly left as she calmly spoke, “Sugarcreek is where my family is, and they just got hit.  Lovely vacation, but that’s how things go at times.” 

“Yes, but we don’t have damage reports yet,” Jeremiah said as he took a towel and wiped the excess water off his face. 

She calmly walked back into the circle.  “I’m glad that I left them at the motel.”

The whole group eyed her as being odd.  Did she know what a tornado was, and did she know that the motel had no storm shelter?

She elaborated on her life, “I’m from Oklahoma.  Tornado Alley it is, and my dad is a meteorologist and part-time storm chaser.  I know everyone survived.”

He doubted her, as he’d heard that a twister had touched down. “Let’s hope so.  Now let’s walk back into the storm shelter.”  Jeremiah led them to the back of the store, making note of a quiet pair of Hispanic men, both of which had not spoken a word since entering the store. 

He made small talk, trying to examine their behavior better. “Did you drive through the storm?”  Jeremiah asked them as he they walked to the shelter.  Jeremiah noticed that they were armed with black pistols.  Although he knew that they were probably rough boys coming to tour Amish Country, he had to remember how Mark Yoder had been killed.  He hoped that these men had the pistols for their own protection and not to harm others.  He would be wrong…