Jake sat at the small table in the back room, having lit two lanterns, his mouth watering as Eva heated up the chicken and dumplings. They’d decided to eat and then read the book at the table. Actually, Jake had decided. The basement would be cozier, but he wondered if it would be too intimate, or inappropriate, to be alone with Eva in that type of environment. He wanted to know what—if anything—was going on with her and John. More than once recently he’d thought about kissing Eva, but he had forced the thoughts away in consideration of John’s feelings for her. He was well aware that Eva had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, and he probably should have more seriously considered and acknowledged his feelings for her. But until now, he hadn’t been exactly sure what those feelings were. He’d fought so hard to keep romantically detached that friendship and romance were tangled up in a web of confusion, and he didn’t feel right pursuing her under the circumstances.
“Jake, did you hear what I said?” Eva stood on the other side of the table, holding a bowl of chicken and dumplings.
“Uh, what?” His thoughts were still rolling around in his mind like tumbleweed in a storm, while outside rain noisily pelted the roof. “Sorry.”
“I said you might want to add more pepper.” She set the bowl in front of him, then walked back to the small counter and retrieved a loaf of bread, along with a tub of butter. She finally sat down across from him with her own bowl, and they bowed their heads in prayer.
Jake stared across the table at her and wondered again if she had been on a date that he was unaware of. He was confident she hadn’t dated John—yet. But had she had any other suitors?
When she caught him ogling her, he hurriedly dunked his spoon in the bowl, blew on it, and savored the flavor. “This is great,” he said, glancing at her.
“Danki.” She smiled, but it was fleeting.
He suspected he knew why. “Eva, I need to tell you again how sorry I am that I yelled at you about leaving the basement door open. I was just upset that the book was gone.”
She locked eyes with him, her lips pressed tightly together as she held her spoon over the bowl. “Don’t ever yell at me like that again.”
“Never.” Shame was a sin, but it had a hold on him just the same.
She kept her eyes on his. “You really hurt me. I made a mistake, and you should know me well enough to know that I felt terrible about it. If I didn’t know better”—she took a deep breath—“I would think you were mad at me about something else besides just making a careless mistake.” Her eyes now bored into his in search of the truth.
Jake gulped back his shame and had to admit she was right. Part of his outburst was anger about John. It was unwarranted, and now was his chance to tell her that he was jealous—another sin he’d need to pray about. But he’d vowed to himself to let things play out with John one way or the other.
“I was upset about the book. I promise to never yell at you again.” He waited until she smiled a little and nodded before he took another bite of the soup. “So gut,” he said through a mouthful.
She reached for a slice of bread, and after a few seconds, she said, “I really like Yvonne. I know she’s really sorry about taking the book without asking. But . . .”
Jake waited, since the comment seemed to come out of nowhere. He felt badly about the way he had treated Yvonne, too, although his anger in that regard had felt more justified. He wondered where Eva was going with this shift in the conversation.
“Everything is Gott’s will, and everything happens on His time frame. But Yvonne doesn’t believe in an afterlife. I think that by reading those first forty pages, it has her thinking, possibly considering otherwise. Maybe everything happened exactly as it should have.” She tilted her head back a little as she peered at him. “Except for you yelling.”
Jake lowered his head and twisted his mouth back and forth.
“But you’re forgiven, and I’ll try not to be careless again.” Her cheeks dimpled, which always warmed Jake’s heart. But there was something a little different today. He wanted to ask her why her lips were so shiny, but then she’d know he was looking at her mouth.
“She mentioned something to me about that too. About her beliefs.” Jake paused, thinking back. “She didn’t really elaborate. I tried to get her to open up a little, but she didn’t. I don’t know her well, so I didn’t push. Anyway, I took her to the tree where everyone carves their initials—those who believe they saw a Sasquatch . . .” He wasn’t sure if Eva knew what he was talking about.
“I’ve been there,” Eva said as she buttered a slice of bread.
“She seems to believe in the Sasquatch more than believing in ghosts. That’s what I got out of it.”
“Yvonne was raised by her aunt and uncle, and they aren’t Christians.” Eva stopped moving, held the knife with butter on it, and her gaze drifted somewhere over Jake’s shoulder. “It’s sad. She’s such a caring person. But I think that’s why the book upset her so much. It challenged her beliefs and got her confused.”
“Maybe that’s gut. Maybe she will read the Bible and seek out answers.”
Eva shrugged. “She said she’d already read it.”
There was sadness in her voice, mirroring Jake’s feelings. “Maybe we will understand more after we read a little of the book.”
After they ate, Eva washed the dishes in the small sink and Jake dried. He envisioned himself and Eva in their own kitchen doing the same thing. Why, all of a sudden, were these images invading his mind?
John Yoder.
He breathed in an unfamiliar and pleasant aroma as he stood next to Eva. Something . . . lavender.
When they were done with the few dishes, Eva stashed the remainder of the chicken and dumplings back in the small refrigerator.
“Ready?” Jake rubbed his hands together, and after she nodded, he went to get the book from the basement. The door was locked, and he suspected it always would be now. After he came back up the steps and secured the door, he rounded the corner until he could see out the windows that spanned the front of the store. The rain had stopped, but two men—around Jake’s age, it appeared—were casually hanging around in the parking lot. English fellows with no car in sight. Jake had already flipped the sign on the door to Closed, but he was tempted to step outside and ask if they needed help. There was something shifty about them, though, even though he tried not to judge.
They hadn’t seen him, and he decided to ignore them. The front door was locked, so he took the book and shuffled to the back room, looking over his shoulder once to see that the men had slowly moved on and were heading toward the street.
“There were two Englisch men loitering around in the parking lot. I’m not sure if they’re up to something or not,” Jake said when he reached the back room, scratching his cheek.
“Uh-oh.” Eva breezed by him, leaving a trace of lavender in her wake. Jake followed her, but she stopped short and didn’t turn the corner, which caused Jake to lightly bump into her, his hands landing on her waist.
“Sorry,” he said as he inched backward and dropped his arms.
She peeked her head around the corner, then slowly walked to the counter and peered out the window. “They were in here before. I recognize them, even from the back. They bought a small angel—one of the ones we get from Barrington’s Wholesale that are normally sold as a group, but they only wanted one. The taller man asked to use the restroom. I felt very unsettled when they were in here. It was when you spent the day with Yvonne.”
Jake still had the feel of Eva’s waist beneath his hands. She was tinier than he would have thought. “Uh, what?” He sidled closer to her since he heard concern in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He twisted to face her as he caught another whiff of lavender.
“I did. You were busy yelling at me.” She scowled before turning her attention back to the two men. “I wonder why they were back and just hanging around?” Her eyes back on Jake, she twisted her hands in front of her, searching his eyes for reassurance that everything was all right.
Warning bells rang in Jake’s head, but he didn’t want to alarm Eva any more than she seemed to be. “We’re all locked in tight. Nothing to worry about.” Although one brick through the window would put an end to that semisafe feeling he was trying to send in Eva’s direction. “And they are almost out of sight.”
Eva kept her eyes on the men.
“Ready to read the hundred-thousand-dollar book?” He nudged her slightly with his shoulder, something he’d playfully done for as long as he’d known her.
She swiveled to face him, her dimples in full form. “I believe that would be the hundred-and-thirty-thousand-dollar book at the last offering.”
He shrugged, well aware what that much money could do. It wouldn’t just cover the repairs needed to the store but also repairs needed on the farm, things he’d put off far too long because he wasn’t home all that much. His lack of time had caused the repairs needed only to get worse.
“I wonder if we’ll ever see Yvonne again once she leaves?” Eva fell into step with him as they walked to the back room. Before he could answer, she slowed at the basement door and touched his arm. “I know you said we could read up here to be closer to the coffee or if we wanted a snack, but I think I’d feel safer in the basement.”
Jake swallowed hard. “Okay.” He should have argued otherwise since he didn’t feel like they were in danger. But he didn’t want Eva feeling uncomfortable. Now he would be the only one feeling awkward in such an intimate setting. As they continued walking, he snuck peeks at her, trying to decide if she was setting the scene for a romantic encounter. Or was his mind working overtime?
While she filled a thermos with coffee, Jake grabbed two cups and took the keys from his pocket. Together they went to the basement, Jake clinging to the cups as he shone the flashlight on the steps, the book tucked under his arm. Eva had the thermos and one finger hooked beneath his suspenders, similar to the way Yvonne had done in the woods. It felt different with Eva, and he was acutely aware of her touching him.
Jake placed the book on the desk, lit two lanterns, and pulled two chairs close together. After Eva had poured them each a cup of coffee, they sat side by side. Jake leaned forward and pulled a small chest closer to them to use as a makeshift coffee table. They both set down their coffee, and Eva gazed into Jake’s eyes. His stomach flipped and roiled in a way it never had.
“Ready?” she asked as she nodded at the book.
He took it from the desk, put it in his lap, and slid it her way so it was across both their laps. Then he opened it up.
* * *
Eva cleared her throat. “‘To MAC with love,’” she said softly as she gingerly ran her finger across the dedication. The author had signed his name on the same page. “Look how different the type looks from regular books.” She pointed to the dedication. Glancing his way, she noticed his jaw tensed. He was nervous, although she wasn’t sure why. Was he that curious about what could make this book worth so much money? Or did she make him nervous in this cozy setting? She’d caught him looking at her mouth more than once. Did he have any thoughts about kissing her?
“Ya. It was probably typed on something like that,” he said as he picked up a flashlight from the desk beside him and shone it across the room. “Mei grossdaadi used to use that Remington typewriter. I remember him pounding away on it when I was a kind and even when I was older.”
Eva had a thought and flipped back two pages to the copyright notice. “It’s too old for him to have written it. It was published in 1875.”
Jake shook his head. “Nee, I don’t see mei grossdaadi writing a book. I think he used the typewriter mostly to send letters to friends and relatives. He thought his handwriting was terrible.” Jake grinned. “And it was.”
Eva turned the page, and there was a foreword. “Do you want me to read aloud first?”
He nodded. “Ya, sure.”
She felt Jake’s leg gently brush against hers as she took a breath and glanced his way. “Okay. Ready?”
Nodding again, he said, “Ya, ready.”
Eva leaned her face closer to the book about the same time Jake leaned forward to turn up the flame on the lantern. Then she read aloud.
Let me preface by saying I do not believe there is a replacement for the Holy Bible. Thus, if you are reading this book, you have possibly or notably slipped from your faith, given up on our Lord, or doubt His supreme existence. This book shall serve as purposeful in that regard. It is not a work of literature to debate the events in the world at this time, but only to mark my own experiences as a Christian man who was not always so. In a fact of reference, I shall only be relaying my experiences as seen through my own eyes in a nontheological attempt to bear witness and truths as I see them.
Take from it what you will, but there is no greater understanding than the relationship between God and His servants, the promise of what is to come, and the sacrifices expected of us to fulfill the commandments laid out before us. Scholars, the weak, those inflicted with disease and deformities, as well as the brave and the humble, will all walk equally side by side, with no weighty standing relevant to our stature within a community here on earth. We are as one, yet often divided by war, opulence, and our willful ability to self-torment as we go against the covenant set in place to protect and keep us.
Forthwith is my story.
Eva stared at the page before she turned to Jake, her face so close to his they almost bumped noses. After straightening and putting a little distance between them, she pointed to the word opulence. “Do you know what that means?”
He shook his head, then carefully slid the book to his right until it was only in her lap. Standing and taking a couple of steps, he opened a drawer of the desk and returned with a dictionary.
“It means of great wealth or luxuriousness,” he said after finding the word. Grinning, he said, “I was wondering if you knew what it meant.”
She shook her head. “Nee, I didn’t. And all of this sounds funny, different than the way the Englisch talk. I suppose because it was written so long ago.” She paused, turned to face him, careful not to almost bump noses again before she looked back at the book and turned the page. “Look. No chapter headings. He calls them sections. Do you want to read Section One?”
“Uh, only if you don’t want to.” He rubbed his forehead. Eva wondered if he had a headache or just wasn’t comfortable reading aloud.
“I’m fine to continue.” She turned the page but kept her eyes on him until he nodded. Then she began.
There is no heaven, a place where the soul rises and finds peace within the loving arms of an all-knowing God. It is a myth, a waste of a man’s time to entertain such frivolous thoughts. We are born from the womb of our mothers following the planting of a life by the mate of our choice, and this seed of life grows into a human form. As our bodies weaken and deteriorate over time, we ultimately lose the ability to sustain life. We are buried or burned, in accordance with our beliefs and wishes, and we are ultimately given to the earth as a form of rejuvenation for future generations.
The existence of hell, a place where demons roam and destruct in a pit of fire and misery run by a fallen angel commonly referred to as Satan is also a falsehood put in the minds of those gullible enough to believe in such foolishness.
Such are the ways that I believed. Until I no longer did.
Walk with me on my soul journey, whereas I will prove to you that not only are heaven and hell real, but they are closer in proximity than the average man might choose to believe. We are caught in a realm of choices that establish our final resting place outside of our body when it can no longer function as a physical being.
Where are you going? Heaven or hell? You have a choice, and it would behoove you to choose wisely.
Eva snuck a glance at Jake, his expression as strained as the knot that twisted in her stomach.
“I’m not sure we should be reading this.” Eva cast her eyes down on the yellowed pages. “I don’t think the bishop would approve.”
“We can stop,” Jake said without looking up. “But it sounds like the author has a testimony and that it turns him into a believer.”
“I hope so.” She sighed as she turned the page titled Section Two.
Jake slid the book slightly his direction. “Here. I’ll read this next part, and then we can decide if we want to go on.”
Eva nodded before Jake turned the page and began to read aloud, running his hand along each line of print.
At a time when civil unrest is barely behind us and still haunts our memories, death is still on the mind of many a man. Mortality is never far from our thoughts as disease and poverty strike those who cannot fight either destructive force. Such be it with my father and mother, both of whom succumbed to cholera within the eleventh hour of each other. It was at this time I entered hell, a place of my own making, not really believing it existed, except in the dark recesses of my mind, tormented by my grief to a point that sharp talons ripped at me until I bled from the inside out.
Eva lay a hand on top of Jake’s, halting him, as her heart thumped against her chest. “I-I can see why this book upset Yvonne, since both of her parents died.”
Jake slipped his hand from underneath Eva’s. She hadn’t even consciously put it there, but she was acutely aware when he made a point to sever contact.
“But it sounds like the author is going to try to convince the reader that his beliefs changed,” he said again as he locked eyes with her.
“Apparently he didn’t change Yvonne’s mind.” Eva lowered her eyes to her lap. The evening wasn’t playing out the way she’d hoped. They were cozy, but Jake kept a level of distance between them. And Eva feared the book would upset her.
“Maybe she didn’t give it a chance. It sounds like she quit reading it after forty pages, and maybe that wasn’t enough.”
Eva opened her mouth to say something, but a noise upstairs startled her. “Was that breaking glass?” she asked in a whisper, too afraid to move.
Jake was up instantly, flashlight in hand, as he tiptoed up the stairs and quickly lowered a narrow board that slid down and clicked into place, locking them in. He scurried back down the stairs, his finger to his lips. Then he extinguished the lanterns and pulled her to him—one arm around her back and the other around the other side cupping the back of her neck. She knew better than to say a word, especially when she heard male voices coming from upstairs.