It was the first church Sunday since the church leaders had visited. The ready memory that wouldn’t let her rest, however, was that Joe had almost kissed her. Esther replayed how it felt to be so close to him too often to be prudent. It was sinful and hedonistic, and it made her heady and warm. She couldn’t understand why a man like Joe would want to kiss an old spinster like her—until she remembered it was only because of the alcohol, despite his denial.
Joe was not the only person consuming her thoughts; Chester remained rooted in her mind as well. Both of them had gotten jobs building homes for Wayne Good. Somehow this made Esther worry less. Perhaps knowing that she and Chester weren’t working on the same dairy farm all day was a relief. She hadn’t seen his car since the evening the church leaders came either. She saw him only from a distance as Joe picked him up in the mornings for work. She and Daisy began visiting Joe after he returned in the late afternoon.
There was some comfort in the routine that had begun to form. A routine that would’ve seemed foreign only a month ago, when Orpha was still alive, Joe was across the ocean, and Chester was dead. How had life changed so quickly?
With her handheld mirror, she inspected her hair, ensuring that every curl was pulled into submission. It had become a habit since she’d been baptized into the church. No hair out of place. She had gained more than enough attention due to her circumstances; she didn’t want to be approached by a preacher or deacon over an issue of modesty.
The hand mirror reflected her warm pink lips. She traced them with a finger and unintentionally wetted them with her tongue. She thought of what it might have felt like to kiss Joe. She dropped the mirror, and the reflective glass scattered about the wooden floor. But there was no time to sweep it up now. Daisy was downstairs waiting for breakfast and it was nearly time to go to church. It was an important Sunday. Chester would make his confession today.
She turned toward the bed where her black dress lay. It was common for the family of a confessing member to wear black. Chester didn’t feel like family, however. And she knew that at least part of the story he gave to the preachers was a lie. She hadn’t the courage to tell anyone, though. She took the black dress and hung it back in her closet again and pulled out a navy dress. Wearing navy would prove to everyone that she didn’t see Chester’s sin as an embarrassment to her. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t taken in by his circumstances. It was a lie, she was ashamed, and his sin blanketed her, but she would hide this deep inside.
Esther pinned her white covering onto her black hair. While all the rest of the unmarried women wore black on Sundays, she wore white. At some point in an unmarried woman’s life, it became assumed she would never marry and the white kapp was appropriate. For her, it had happened around her thirtieth birthday. Orpha made her a white covering one day and left it on Esther’s bed. Nothing was ever said about it, but Esther understood the message. It wasn’t that she couldn’t get married, but after thirty the chances were slim.
The late June morning sun embraced Esther as she hitched up Deano. She lifted her face to greet the orange and yellow warmth and breathed in the summer air. The sun’s rays made the light sprinkling early that morning look like crystals sitting atop blades of grass. It had been a slow transition into summer, with late spring showers. When she arrived at the stable, she found Chester brushing down the old bay horse. Deano whinnied when Esther drew closer.
Chester looked up at her with sober eyes and offered a quiet smile. He was nervous. His jaw boasted what appeared to be several days of growth. His upper lip, on the other hand, looked odd and naked—his mustache had been sheared off. He looked more Amish than she’d expected, with the suit that a cousin had sewn for him since Esther had made no move to help in this way. His old Amish clothes had been given away years ago.
“Thought I’d start being of some help around here. Mucked out the stall for you too. I’ll take care of ole Dean from now on.”
“I’ve managed just fine.” Esther was curt on purpose.
Chester released a soft chuckle. It rolled around in the humid air and into her ears. She wouldn’t admit that the familiar sound brought back the memories that were worth remembering.
“I see that.” He pushed his jaw out and caught her gaze before replacing the curry comb in the small barrel at the side of the stall. “You’ve done a right good job. Better’n any man could’ve done. I’m proud of you, Esther.”
“If you’re saying this to butter me up, it’s not working. I know you lied to the preachers about how you lost your finger, and I’m wondering what else it is that you lied about.” Her emboldened heart pounded.
Chester inspected his hand twice over and pursed his lips. He nodded and looked back to Esther.
“You’re right.” Chester’s eyes looked past Esther. Her head turned to find where his gaze landed and found the ax that lay next to the stump used for cutting wood. Another job Esther had taken on at a young age.
“The ax?” Esther’s voice was barely audible.
Chester swallowed hard. He didn’t answer but continued to stare at the old tool.
“But who? You couldn’t have done that yourself.” Esther blocked Chester’s gaze from the ax to force his eyes on hers. The moment that passed between them startled her with realization. Mem had come inside holding a bloodied rag on that morning so long ago. “Mem? Mem cut your finger off?”
Esther’s eyes filled. All the pieces had been there all along, only she had continued to view it all through the mind of a five-year-old, not wanting to put the puzzle together. Her mother had been pasty white that morning, and it was because she’d just cut the finger off her husband so that he could forgo his conscription. How could this have been worth it, since he’d gone to prison regardless?
Chester wiped his face with his hands.
“Was it worth it?” she asked.
“I was a coward, Esther.” The old man turned away from Esther, and she watched for another minute as he pulled the buggy up behind Deano. When she knew he wasn’t going to say anything more—and she wasn’t prepared to hear anything more—she returned to the house. When it was time to leave, the buggy was ready, but Chester was nowhere to be found.
David Coblentz’s home, where church was held that week, had a section of benches for the women. The first row was reserved for the old maids and widows. Women with young children and babies filled the middle benches. This left the back benches of unmarried young women to wink at, tease, or shrewdly ignore the unmarried young men on the other side of the living room. Daisy sat with Esther, the only little girl on her bench. From Esther’s vantage point, she could see Chester. He didn’t quite 7blend in with the men around him with their long graying beards. When their eyes met, he snapped his away. Now that she had the truth to one of his lies on the tip of her tongue, he knew she could tell the preachers. She wasn’t sure what she would do with what she’d just learned, or if it was all that he was hiding. The morning conversation stirred in her mind like a brewing storm.
By the time the preaching service was nearly over, Daisy had fallen asleep, her head on Esther’s lap. Esther tucked a blond tendril back inside Daisy’s covering. How many more Sundays would Daisy come to church with her? Everyone around her began kneeling at the benches for prayer at the end of the service. Esther gently repositioned Daisy and knelt with everyone else, but she found it hard to follow the prayer. All she could think about was that after this, Chester would be brought forward.
At the end of the bishop’s prayer, he announced that it was time for nonmembers to leave. All those who weren’t baptized left the house without question. This included Chester; he would be brought in at the appointed time. All knew that this request usually meant the bishop had a matter to discuss with the members who were in good standing. This wasn’t unusual. With a district of several hundred, it was not uncommon to deal with a confession every few months. Two months ago, there had been a newly married man who had confessed to having lingered near the radio at a farming supply store, wanting to hear more of the music that he left behind in his rumspringa years. In that instance, he’d come forward himself to confess his guilt. In the late winter, there had been a young mother who had accepted a birthday gift from a shunned sister.
Esther, however, had never had to confess anything in front of the church. Besides some gray areas with Irene, she practiced the Ordnung in all the ways that really mattered. She had no desire to stray. After seeing what it led to with Irene and her father, her heart was framed even more concretely within the boundaries and protection of the church. Her friendship with Irene had been her greatest weakness. But they hadn’t exchanged gifts or shared a meal. Those things were strictly forbidden, and she hadn’t crossed that line. They took walks, talked, and Esther was present for the deliveries of her children—and her death.
Sins and confessions were always handled with clarity and forthrightness when a member was in need of cleansing. Just as with Chester, the guilty member was visited first. Generally it was the aumah deanah, the head deacon, who was in charge of such visits. In Chester’s case, it had required more than the deacon alone.
Daisy leaned into Esther’s arm and smiled sleepily. Esther was glad that Daisy’s deafness allowed her the chance to stay.
“Vit en schnupduch boppleh?” Esther whispered, asking her if she wanted a hanky doll, showing her the special Sunday handkerchief. Daisy nodded, smiling. She began rolling and twisting it into a doll. Her hands shook fiercely, nervous about Chester’s confession. Daisy began rocking back and forth with impatience. Esther had to unroll the hanky to start again. She lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
A moment later the white-haired widow next to her, Alberta Yoder, took the hanky from Esther’s hands and within a minute had it rolled and tucked into a doll shape. She handed it to a happy Daisy, who instantly began playing the part of a little mother.
Esther looked at Alberta for a brief moment. Her mouth trembled as she tried to smile.
“Bisht alraiht?” She asked with a hand on Esther’s arm.
Was she okay? Esther nodded, a lie, and tried a smile again. Alberta’s arm returned to her own lap and Esther looked back toward the front where the bishop was ready to speak. She tightened her jaw to restrain her emotions. Chester would not continue humiliating her.
“Chester Detweiler is coming forward today to confess his sin,” Bishop Willie Zook began. “He was thought to be dead, but instead he left the church and lived as an Englisher. Ray and I went to him this week, and we talked over how he was living. He owned a car and went to bars where he drank beer and smoked—cigarettes, not pipes. He wore an Englisher haircut and mustache and clothes. If one had seen him at a store or on the street, he would’ve looked like all the other Englishers of the world. He has been in the bann since our talk and comes today to make his issues right mit da gmay und de Got.”
Esther considered his words. His issues were with the church and with God. But were the Amish so entangled with the will of God that if you offended one, you offended the other as well? Or was there a distinction? Was God offended by sharing a meal with a shunned member more than He was offended by the shunning and rejection itself? These questions had plagued her since Irene’s shunning.
What she couldn’t reconcile to herself was that Irene had become more settled, peaceful, and happy after her shunning. She hadn’t left the church because of any downfalls with it or because she desired the world. She left because she loved Joe and desired a life with him. She had never turned her back on God or left Him behind. In Esther’s observation, Irene had grown more faithful and devout in her English life than she’d ever been before.
Esther had never let herself answer these questions fully, afraid they would confuse her loyalty to the black-and-white law of the church. At least in this situation with Chester there was no confusion as to the sin.
When Chester was escorted back into the house by a preacher, the walls closed in on Esther. The cloudless sky through the windows grew brighter, but a tangible blackness crept inside her heart, darkening her mood even further. The widows and spinsters around her simply watched and listened. Their knuckles weren’t white with clenching, their hearts weren’t racing, and their underarms weren’t burning with new sweat. Her instinct was to look down at her feet, the floor, anything but watch this happen in front of her eyes, anything but show her emotions. She couldn’t let anyone else see how ashamed she was, how vulnerable she was to Chester.
Chester’s face grimaced in what looked like pain and anguish as he knelt in front of the congregation. Usually the guilty member would sit in the front row with downcast eyes, but Chester had knelt. This revealed that his sin was considered greater and worse than possibly even what was stated. Adultery was likely among his sins. Her face grew warm, and her very bones trembled inside her skin.
Chester’s eyes roamed the room for a brief moment. Was he looking for her? She was glad he hadn’t found her.
When his voice rang out, she wanted to cover her ears. He spoke much louder than the typical confessor’s mumblings.
“Ich bekan es ich kfeld happ. Fashpaht Got und de gmay, hatslich geduld aw, fanna hee bessah sige drah.”
Several muffled sobs followed his words, and he slumped over weeping. Had he meant those words? The phrase rumbled around in her gut, making her feel ill as she replayed the confession. I confess that I have failed. I promise God and the church, in humbleness, from here on out to make better choices.
A tug wrenched painfully in her chest. No. Esther would not feel this way about a man who had abandoned her and her mem and mammie twenty-nine years ago. His story was questionable and bound together with at least one lie. She didn’t respect him. Her jaw tightened. Tears burned her eyes, but she would not cry for him.
She squeezed her eyes together and found herself silently pleading with God that Chester would make better choices. That whatever his life was like in the Englisher’s world, he would turn from it and become the kind of man he should be. She had no confidence that he could actually be a father to her, but it might not be too late for him to become a good man.
She opened her eyes when she heard other members give their ein vaht, the one-word response to Chester’s confession. Each member would have three options: say ya that they agreed that he was remorseful, say nay that they did not stand in agreement with his confession, or choose to not have any part of it and say ivah lessah. She heard many ya responses from the members on the benches nearby. She suddenly heard a quiet nay. Esther’s eyes snapped to find the voice belonging to her mother’s closest friend and cousin, Anna May. Anna May looked from the corner of her eye to Esther, then quickly lowered her head. She’d known that Anna May had been devastated at Leah’s death and had been bedridden herself for several weeks following it.
If three people said nay, they could not overlook his sin despite the confession, his bann would continue, and he would have to confess again in another few weeks. A strong male voice rang out nay from the other side of the room. Esther knew it to be Anna May’s husband. One more no and the church would not accept Chester’s confession.
An elbow nudged her arm. It was Alberta. Esther looked over to the older woman and found sympathy in her eyes. She nodded to Esther.
“Deh ein vaht?” she whispered and raised her eyebrows with a nod toward the man who stood in front of them.
Esther turned and found one of the preachers standing in front of her waiting for her ein vaht. The preacher’s black eyebrows knit together in question and concern. He was younger than Chester and probably hadn’t known anything about him. And now he stood in front of her, waiting for a response.
Her tongue went to the roof of her mouth to give her negative response. She had every right to say nay. She’d lost everything because of him: her father, her mother, Orpha, security, music, and her childhood. And now, as an adult, she realized she’d also lost the good character and reputation she thought her family had. All the adults in her life who should’ve protected her through everything had lied to her. Had lost themselves in protecting their mistakes. There was nothing more she wanted to do in the moment than to say nay and not accept Chester’s confession. She inhaled, ready to speak, but in the last twinkling of the moment, she bowed her head and closed her eyes.
“Ivah lessah.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She couldn’t say no to Chester, she couldn’t say no to her dat. She put a hand up to her forehead to shield her face from view. Hot tears streamed down and dropped on her navy blue dress. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daisy unroll her hanky doll and try to wipe away Esther’s tears. The gesture almost forced her weeping to deepen, but with a deep breath, she gently took the hanky and wiped away any evidence of her burden.
“Now hear me, brothers and sisters. Des bruder’s confession has been accepted. He will be in the bann for six months as penance. In the meantime we should be on our guard for Satan’s attacks within our folds. Let us follow the Ordnung and not gossip over the faults of another. This brother is sorry and he is forgiven by us and by the Hah. In six months, we will give him the right hand of grace, and from here on we need to leave it behind us. Then it will be finished.”
Finished. The word repeated itself again and again as she and Chester fled the scene, as often happened in the shame of these circumstances. Esther had never imagined that she would flee along with her dat, who was in the fold of protection again despite his bann. By this very occurrence, she felt more unprotected and lost than ever.