––––––––
Lance sat on the hard bench, shackled at the ankles and wrists. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position as he waited for the jury to march in with his fate.
After the judge gave his instructions to the witnesses, visitors and defendant, the foreman stood, holding a folded piece of paper.
“Mr. Foreman, what say you?” the judge asked in the archaic language of the courtroom.
“Your honor, we find the defendant, Lance Newman guilty of stalking; guilty of assault and guilty of kidnapping.”
“Is this the verdict of . . . SIT DOWN, Mr. Newman!” the judge shouted.
Lance had erupted once again. Shouting, he turned toward Miriam, anger and madness in his eyes. Forgetting about the shackles and cuffs holding his ankles and wrists restrained, he stumbled toward the low wall separating the visitor’s gallery from the rest of the courtroom. Raising one knee, he tried to climb over the wall and, teetering precariously, he overbalanced. He was unable to regain his balance and fell forward, hitting his nose and forehead on the hard wooden bench.
Miriam screamed as she saw Lance lying on his belly, not moving. She screamed again as she saw blood seeping from his nose, mouth and one ear.
Lance had hit his face against the bench, knocking him out immediately. As his body continued to fall, he struck his nose hard on the floor, breaking it. The impact forced bits of bone backward into his brain.
Lance, transported to a nearby hospital, was diagnosed with a huge blood clot which pressed on his brain. The clot began to grow even larger, causing a dangerous buildup of pressure on his frontal lobe and the top of his brain. Despite having a piece of his skull removed, he slipped into a coma. The pressure continued rising in his brain and he was soon declared brain-dead.
After conferring with his family, his doctor removed him from life support.
***
Because of Lance’s sudden death, there was no need for the legal proceedings to continue. Even though the jury had found him guilty, there was no Lance to serve any prison sentence.
In Ephrata, Miriam struggled to return to her usual life. As she worked on the quilt, she kept seeing Lance falling awkwardly over the low wall and striking his head on the seat and ground. At night, she woke from the same kinds of dreams.
Sarah and Joseph both noticed Miriam’s inability to focus on anything at home.
“I’ll talk to her, wife. I think she’s experiencing the stress of what happened to Mr. Newman when he learned he was found guilty,” Joseph said as he paced back and forth in the kitchen.
“Husband, she is probably dreaming of this at night. She looks tired, like she isn’t sleeping well at all,” Sarah observed, watching Joseph pacing back and forth.
That evening after supper, Miriam sat in the quilting room, her hands motionless. She simply stared into the distance.
Joseph walked in, looking at his youngest child’s troubled expression.
“Miriam. We’ve watched you for several days. You are not your usual self. You pace. You stare into the distance. You look exhausted, as though you aren’t sleeping well. What is bothering you?” Joseph asked as he sat down in one of the chairs.
Miriam gazed at him with her chin trembling. She covered her mouth with one hand as she struggled to force tears back.
“Daed, I keep seeing Lance Newman falling onto his face. I see the blood coming out of his ears, mouth and nose. I knew that he would die! Daed . . . I was praying . . . before they said the verdict.” Miriam sobbed once. “I’m worried that my prayer might have led to his fall and injury.” Tears poured down Miriam’s drawn and pale face.
“What did you ask God for, daughter?”
“Protection,” Miriam said.
“And that is all? Protection?” Joseph asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Ya.”
“Miriam, you need to realize that Lance acted all on his own, without any regard for the laws of the state or of our own Ordnung. By your asking for God’s protection, you did not cause him to fall and hit his head. It was his own inability to understand that his choices and actions led to the charges against him. Miriam, this is very important, so you must listen,” Joseph said sternly.
Miriam, caught by the strict urgency in her father’s voice, fastened her eyes onto his face.
“Yes, daed?”
“When he heard the verdict against him, that inability to take responsibility was what led to his injuries and death. You simply asked God to protect you. You didn’t ask him to kill that man.”
Miriam began to get a glimmer of understanding of the events of that day. Beginning to weep, she said, “Now that it’s over, you mean I can get back to my own life?”
“Ya. You can. Now, you need to start focusing on your baptismal instruction, taking your Kneeling Vow, then getting to marry John Fisher,” Joseph said with a gentle smile. He reached one hand out toward his daughter’s face and wiped tears off one cheek.
***
In another part of Ephrata, Esther Zook was obsessively thinking about John and devising ways that she could see and be with him, despite what her parents had decreed.
I don’t care that he’s courting Miriam Beiler. I like him and he’s not even engaged to her. As far as I’m concerned, I can still let him know that I’m interested in him. If he likes me back, he’ll start courting me.