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The following Sunday, the bishop and elders waited for their community to come into the house where the meeting would take place. Everyone was tense. The bishop paced restlessly back and forth—a behavior very unlike him. Deacon Yoder’s gaze moved from face to face as he watched people entering. The two ministers, who were both fairly new to their duties, were pale, perspiring slightly.
“Bishop, I still haven’t seen the Miller family coming in. Do you think they’ll be here?” Eppie Yoder had been suspicious of Katie Miller for several weeks now, but he didn’t want to say anything just yet.
“I don’t see why not, Eppie. Although, I do agree with you that everyone who lives here should be present. Ach, there they are!” The bishop relaxed visibly, which communicated to the remaining elders that their planned message would now be delivered.
“Bishop, are we going to make the announcement before the service begins? Or after?” The minister was bouncing up and down, trying to release the nervous energy he felt.
“We will make the announcement first. I don’t want to distract people, but I want them to think about what may potentially be a harmful rumor in the context of today’s teachings.”
“Gut idea.” The nervous minister calmed visibly, stopping his incessant bouncing.
Bishop Lapp strode to the front of the room. Standing solemnly, his hands at his sides, he looked at every member of the community. Licking his lips, he began. “I am sorry to tell you that we have heard—or rather, read—more from this anonymous English person who seems to want to see us leave Big Valley. He...or she, as the case may be, painted a large sign on a fence coming into our community. This sign told us to ‘get out,’ to ‘move elsewhere.’
“I don’t have to tell you that we are all nervous and scared. I also spoke with Mayor Winters. She is extremely upset but understanding of the position we are in. She doesn’t know who this person is. If it is truly an English resident of Big Valley, she wants to see this stopped. And that is when I had another thought. If she has this reaction, she, as well as most of the English residents, doesn’t view us as bad. In fact, whenever I’ve gone to English businesses, I have, as a general rule, been greeted with courtesy and friendliness. As I am sure you have.
“I am leaning on the side of caution that there is such a person out there. Someone who fears or hates our community. I am asking you parents to ensure that your kinder are safe at all times. You must know where they are at all times. They cannot roam freely at night anymore. Not until we find who is responsible for these messages. Youth on your rumspringa—you are going to have to limit your running around to our community boundaries. I will not allow you to go to English establishments. I don’t like doing this, but if someone truly wants us gone, I am afraid they may do someone harm.”
A sibilant rustle of disappointment ran through the room. Hearing it, Amos realized that the bishop had not said that the bearer of the messages was English. Nor had he said the person was Amish. Looking down, he squeezed his hands together hard.
Amos’s gaze moved over to the women’s section. Seeking out Katie, he saw her expression was blank. She stared ahead almost like she didn't see anything. It was odd. He tried to meet her gaze, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Tearing his gaze away from Katie, Amos returned his attention to the elders.
“...so, that is where we are. We don’t know who it is. Families, if you find you have to visit English businesses, let your neighbors know where you are going and when you plan to return home.” After finishing his bleak message, the deacon began the service with the first of several songs from the Ausbund.
Three long hours later, the service finally ended. People were quiet, preoccupied as they filed out of the large room. Men and older boys moved the benches outside so everyone could sit at the long tables for the community lunch.
The women filed quietly into the kitchen, taking hot lunch dishes out of the oven and going outside with them. Katie set down a large casserole, grateful for the canopy of green leaves. She felt the warmth of the spring day building and wished she didn’t feel so cold inside.
Libby came up next to her, putting down two large bowls of freshly baked bread so the elderly community members could make sandwiches or add bread to their plates. “Katie? Are you okay? Is your head still bothering you?”
Katie shrugged. “A bit.”
“I know you’re scared, but we’re all doing everything we can to be safe.”
But who would keep Katie safe from herself?
The deacon suspected her. Katie had felt his sharp gaze on her through the bishop’s entire talk. “I don’t know. Maybe we should leave.” Go like they had been forced to do before. Except this time, she would run first. She would run before they confirmed their worst suspicions. “All of us. Move to a bigger community. Or even to other states with Amish communities.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Libby asked. In truth, her friend was scaring her. “Maybe you should sit down for a while.”
“Nee. It won’t help.” Katie walked slowly back into the kitchen, dropping the potholders in the hallway as she walked. Libby ran after her and picked them up.
“You dropped these.”
“Oh,” Katie said absently. “Thank you.”
Libby put the potholders on the counter. Katie grabbed two large pitchers of iced tea and lemonade.
“Are you sure you—?”
“I can handle it,” Katie said. Her hands were eerily steady as she carried the pitchers outside and placed them on the large, picnic table beside the cornfield.
Libby picked up a large container bearing hot coffee and carefully moved outside with it.
As she set the coffee dispenser down, she looked closely at Katie.
Something was deeply wrong with her best friend.
Words of the scripture, the Book of Jude, passed through Libby’s mind as she watched Katie go through the motions of helping with the after meeting meal: ...waterless clouds, swept along by winds; fruitless trees in late autumn, twice dead, uprooted; wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame...
Was this reaction not fear, but instead guilt? And if so, did it mean Libby’s initial suspicions were correct?
Libby hated suspecting her best friend of something so horrible, especially seeing how wrung out Katie was now. But she couldn’t shake the thought. What if Katie had started the rumor?
***
JUST OUTSIDE THE AMISH community, Mayor Winters and two police officers closely peered at the crudely painted sign. “It’s just ordinary house paint. I’d need to take a sample to have it tested, mayor.”
“Do it. I don’t think we can afford not knowing where it was sold. If it was someone from—well, someone English, maybe the home improvement stores or discount stores can let us know if they have any records of recent sales of white paint.”
“And if the purchase was paid for with cash?” The police officer knew the answer already.
“We’re back at square one. Take a sample, bag it and get it to the lab, please. And keep following up on any other leads you may have.”
“Mayor, this is the first solid lead we have. There is nothing else. But we’re going to be patrolling this area and all entry points into the community. We’ll catch up to whoever’s doing this.”
Mayor Winters sighed. “And if it’s someone from within their community? Because that’s the sense I’m getting.”
Shaking his head, the police officer sighed. “We’ll take them in, Amish or English. Why are you getting the sense that it may not be someone from outside their community?”
“The paint is simple, something that would be found in an Amish home.”
“It’s white. That could be found in any home.”
“I know. I know.” The mayor shook her head. But a brighter color would stand out more on this wood, wouldn’t it? And be more threatening? White is a color of convenience,” the mayor said. “And there’s this other thing.” The mayor recounted her experience with the three Amish women passing by her with fearful looks on their faces. “I think, if I’m right, that someone within the Amish community is doing this. For what reasons, I don’t know. But I’ve been watching our residents as they rub shoulders with the Amish. I have seen no negative interactions. Nothing. The most I’ve seen is curiosity from the tourists who come to visit, but there’s...”
“The tourists have had little to no exposure to the Amish before coming here, so unless they come in with prejudgments, I wouldn’t want to pin this on them. Given what you’re saying, mayor, I think we need to look at someone within the Amish community.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” The mayor was looking for any other signs of who might have painted the nasty sign. She took a step toward the fence.
“I...wait, don’t step there!” The officer flung a hand up.
“Why?”
“Footprints. I want to see if there’s anything there that might point us to a perpetrator.”
Hearing this, the mayor did a quick back step. “Oh! I hadn’t thought of that. What were you going to say?”
“That I agree with you. Scott? What are your thoughts?”
The second officer had been listening closely. Standing from his squatted position, he ruled his hand over his chin. “It’s someone Amish. Ever since we got word of all of these hateful messages toward the Amish, I’ve been keeping my eyes out. Like you, mayor, I haven’t seen anything that indicates this hatred comes from ‘the English,’”
“What’s your forensic background telling you about this?”
“First, someone who wants attention. That seems odd, I know. But think about it. Even though they can’t say, ‘Hey, it’s me,’ they will get gratification, and something in their psyche is acknowledged when this is talked about by their friends and associates. Seeing people freaking out about this message here provides even more reinforcement. There are lots of reasons for attention-seeking behavior, but whatever the underlying cause, it usually escalates.”
“So we can look forward to more negative messages, I take it.” The mayor was not happy about this.
“Oh, yes. It’ll continue until the person is caught.” Scott sighed.
“Wonderful. I’m going to want to talk to the chief about this, see if we can get increased patrols at this fence and other points where our ‘messenger’ may leave more messages. Let me know if you get any usable...no, any physical evidence, usable or not, please.” Stepping carefully, the mayor left the roadside and returned to her car.
***
THAT EVENING, KATIE tried to enter into the spirit of the singing and playing volleyball with her friends. She still felt empty, but she’d grown better at hiding it. If she could just get through this, maybe the rumor would fade, and she would be able to live again.
Amos came up beside Katie as she was putting on her sneakers. “Katie? Are you sure you’re up to this? Libby told me you were having migraines.”
“I just wish they’d stop talking about it.” Anger stirred inside of her.
“Stop what?”
It was almost a relief to lash out. “Talking about that idiotic message. Whoever did it was stupid. I’m just so sick of it!”
Amos was confused. Why wasn’t she scared like the other girls? All of them were frightened, saying they are going to go run errands in pairs, just in case. Again, Amos’s worries and fears came roaring back. Sitting back, he gazed silently at Katie.
Katie, seeing Amos just looking at her, shrugged. “Well? What?”
“Why aren’t you frightened like the other girls? You’re sick of hearing about it. Why?”
Katie realized, too late, that she had made a mistake. “Oh! Well, ja, I am scared.” She fiddled with her ear, running her thumb along the crest and tugging once on the lobe. “But, think, Amos. What can we do beyond what everyone has already said? Go out in pairs. Be cautious. Why keep going over it again and again?”
Katie’s words made sense, but the reaction didn’t sit right with Amos. Why was angrier with her own community than with the people who had threatened them? And why did she look so nervous now?
When Katie acted like this, it made Amos nervous about their relationship and future together. Maybe he just needed some time to himself to think. Amos said, “Look. I’m getting right tired of hearing this myself. As soon as we all leave, I’m dropping you at home. Right now, I just need to be alone. Don’t leave without me.” Rising, Amos walked off before Katie could muster a response.
Katie sat, looking at Amos walk away, her skin went cold. He suspects. Everything I did, it’s for nothing. He’s going to leave me anyway.
She should have just stayed quiet. Amos was the best thing about her life here, and now, she was ruining it. She went back to the barn and sat down on one of the benches. Nobody sat with her. Nobody noticed her at all. Had Amos told them all what he suspected? Did they all hate her now?
Katie put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Libby was nowhere to be seen. Katie considered sitting down next to one of the other girls, but what if they rejected her? It was better not to know for sure. If she sat by herself, she could just pretend it was her choice to be alone.
So, as the singing started, Katie stayed where she was. Would the rumor die now? And when it did, what else would she have?