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Chapter 7

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“...Starts moving through Big Valley. If it does, she either wrote the letter or someone else saw it. Are you going to speak to Mayor Winters?”

“I have to. After dinner today. I will clean up after and see if she has time to see me today.”

“Ja. Okay.”

“Will you stay behind? In case anyone did see the letter, they may come here looking for me. I want you to tell me who came if they do.”

“Ja, I will.” Dinner in the Lapp home was quiet, overlaid by the worry caused by the corrosive letter. Lovina was barely able to eat what she had made. Giving up, she threw the leftovers away and finished her lemonade. John wasn’t able to finish his dinner, either. “I’m sorry, Lovina. It was delicious as always, but the events of this morning have just taken my gut mood away.”

“No worries, John. I feel the same way. You go get ready and, when you get home, let me know what Mayor Winters tells you.”

“Ja, I will.” He hurried upstairs and changed into a clean shirt. Washing his face and neck, he hurried downstairs and left.

***

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WAITING IN THE MAYOR’S office, John said several silent prayers.

“Mr. Lapp? Mayor Winters is ready to see you. She said that even though you didn’t have an appointment, to get you in quickly.”

“Thank you, Miss.” John stood and hurried into the mayor’s office. Looking around, he saw a small room filled with well-made furniture. “I recognize the hutch. It was made in our community.”

“Yes, it was, just a few years ago. I understand something has happened?”

John sat slowly in the chair positioned in front of the desk. “Ja. My deacon and his son spotted this letter. Why don’t you read it first, then we can talk?”

Accepting the single-page letter, Kerry Winters read it quickly. “Oh, my God! This is...I need to call my public information officer. Hold on.” Kerry pressed a couple numbers on her office phone and waited. “Linda, something’s happened. Come to my office right away.”

Less than a minute later, Linda walked in. Seeing John, his face fell. “Something new has happened, hasn’t it?”

John nodded as the mayor handed him the letter. “Read this.”

After reading the short, handwritten letter, Linda sighed. “Good Lord! And, sir, who found this letter?”

“My deacon and his son.”

Do you still suspect someone has cooked up a hateful rumor? Because this sounds...”

“Pretty spiteful. Ja, I know. We do suspect one person, but we still haven’t been able to prove that she’s the one who painted the sign, wrote this or started the rumor itself.”

“She. So you’re pretty clear that it’s a woman?” The mayor held her pen in one hand, shifting it to her other, and then back again, as a nervous tic.

“Ja. I just got some information before lunchtime. The girl’s family comes from Indiana, another Amish community. Apparently, she was behind a rumor two years ago, accusing a community member of well, assaulting her sexually. Her lie was found out when the accused man stood up before the entire community and literally went through his whole day. He was able to prove that there was no conceivable way for him to have assaulted her. He had witnesses who stood up for him and showed that he was in two different locations during the time the girl said he assaulted her.”

“My God, she has a habit of this? Bishop, I don’t know if you’ve heard this term, but we call it ‘pathological lying.’ Something in her psyche leads her to lie. Whether she knows or cares that it’s wrong, I don’t know. But what she’s doing, if she’s doing it, is singlehandedly destroying your community, our community and the good relationship between both. What do you intend to do?”

“The sister-in-law and brother of the man she accused came to see us after they made the connection between the girl’s name and what happened in Indiana. Long story made short, they are trying to get permission from the man for me to go out and see him. My wife and I will be traveling out there so I can discuss what’s going on here with him. So that means that, for the time being at least, this will be going on for a while longer.”

“Okay. In the meantime, I can write something up and let people here know that the rumor continues to be fueled by ‘someone.’ I won’t say who it is. Uh, my assistant, Sam Caldwell, ran into someone from your community last weekend. He was eating a quick dinner before clocking in for some evening hours.” Linda pulled his tablet toward him, clicking on a few numbers. “He met with someone named Eli Smits. He was eating out with his girlfriend, and they were talking about this rumor. Sam said that he gave his business card to Eli and asked him to call him if he began to suspect anyone specific. It sounds like he may have someone in mind.”

John shifted on his seat. “Ja, I believe so, but until I have spoken to this man and his family in Indiana, I’ve asked him and his dat to stay quiet for now.”

“That’s fine. We understand, but if he and his father could come and speak to me, we can set up a way of responding to this issue. A way that will help members of your community to feel better.”

“And we don’t have to reveal who we think it is?”

“No. Not until you’re ready. And it sounds like that might take some time. But we need to be able to deflect some of the fear, anger, and resentment that people may be experiencing.”

“Ach, I see what you are saying. Ja, I agree. I’ll go talk to Eli and let him know that you need to speak with him.”

“Bishop, do you mind if I make a copy of this letter? I want Linda and Sam to be able to refer to specific language in it.”

“That’s fine. Err, but would you please do one thing for me? Please don’t say anything about our suspicion that it’s someone Amish who started all this and is keeping it alive.”

“Excellent point. We’ll leave that out then. We don’t want to see anyone going after any of your community members. Then the rumor would be only too true.”

The bishop left shortly after, feeling somewhat better. At home, he walked into the house, sniffing deeply. “Do I smell spaghetti sauce?”

“Ja, I figured we needed something special after the shocks we’ve taken today. I also made strawberry shortcake.”

“It’s a gut thing I work so hard physically, or I’d be as big as this house.” John hugged Lovina tenderly, knowing the morning had been stressful for her.

“So?” Lovina gave a look full of expectation to John.

John had long since become familiar with that speaking look. Taking her hand, he sat her down. “I met with Mayor Winters and her assistant. They made a copy of that hateful letter, and they are going to let the English of Big Valley know of its existence. They want to use it to educate them and try to reduce any fear or anger that may result. I did ask them not to make public our suspicion that a member of our own community cooked up a destructive and hateful rumor.”

Lovina’s face brightened as she had a thought. “You know, husband, if we are going to fight back in our own way against this hatred, we have to address it ourselves. In the next Sunday meeting.”

John realized Lovina was right. But...“How? We don’t want to let this person—if it is Katie Miller—know that we suspect her or anyone here of creating such a lie.”

“I know. We need to find a way of addressing it that points out the negativity and hatred. If we are going to counter what could be a lie, we have to speak to truth.”

John ran both hands over his beard, thinking. “You are right. I’ll go speak with Eppie Yoder tomorrow and see what we can devise.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. “You know, this feels more like the crazy publicity you see in English politics than anything of our world. You aren’t thinking to throw your kapp into that ring, are you?” Eppie Yoder joked.

Lovina grimaced. “Nee, not for me. I’ll continue with my quilting. I don’t envy English politicians. Oh! The sauce!” Jumping up, she turned the flame down so the pasta sauce wouldn’t bubble and splatter all over the stove.

After supper, John sat at the table, writing down several thoughts that he and the other elders could use in combating the message of hate that Katie Miller was apparently responsible for. As he scribbled notes, he muttered to himself. “We have been dealing for months with the possibility that some hate-filled English person wants us away from Big Valley, where we have lived for generations, raising our families, crops and building furniture. This person, whoever he...Oh! Or she...is, is counting on the fear he or she generates. In the end, it may come to nothing. It may be nothing more than a ploy to gain attention.”

On a roll, he continued to speak quietly as he scribbled the words now pouring out of his pen onto the paper. “It is up to us, as a community, to group together even more strongly than before. We rely on each other and Gott for our strength. This person...drop ‘English,’ John...may intend no harm to come to us. They...he or she...may not want us to leave. Instead, it may be nothing more than a deep psychological need to gain attention, indirect though it may be.” He read over his words several times. Not sure if he was yet on the right track, he called Lovina. “Would you read this and let me know if it’s gut enough?”

Lovina sat next to John and carefully read through every word and its implication. Looking up, she smiled at him. “John, it is perfect! Go to Eppie’s tomorrow. I will go with you so I can meet with Mildred. She’s been wanting to discuss quilt patterns with me.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I would also like to get her thoughts, along with yours and Eppie’s. I also want to talk to the ministers. They have to know what’s been developing. Besides, I want all of us to communicate a message that shows Katie, if it is her, that we are all going to be on the watch for more hatred.”

“John, I had one thought. Do you think it’s a good idea to let the community know that you’ve been working with Mayor Winters and her staff to combat this hatred?”

Reaching over, John clasped his hand behind Lovina’s neck, pulled her toward him and planted a kiss on her lips. “Brilliant! Ja, I do!” He wrote down a few sentences that indicated this. “Lovina, you must go with me tomorrow. I only hope Eppie and the ministers will be available to work with us on this.”

***

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THE NEXT MORNING, ARRIVING at Eppie Yoder’s house, John smiled at Lovina. As he did, he remembered just why he had married her so many years before. She is brilliant and a wunderbaar partner.

“John, Lovina! Come in! Mildred and I are about to have some coffee.” Eppie opened the door, inviting John and Lovina to come in. As he did, he noticed a buggy coming down the lane. “It’s Katie Miller.” He smiled and gave her a huge wave. “Gut morning, Miss Miller!”

John and Lovina looked at Katie, whose face bore a look of stunned shock. “Gut morning, Katie! It’s a fine morning.”

Katie, seeing the two elders standing on the wide front porch, gasped. She forced a smile to her face, waving slightly. “Ja, gut morning.” Then, she slapped the reins on the horses’ backs, hurrying them along. She had told her mam that she was going back to Sabine Hoffstetter’s shop, but after the cool reception she had received on her last trip, she had decided to go to the English store for her fabric and notions. She didn’t see Annie standing just behind the barn door, waiting for her to move farther down the lane.

Annie peered out of the barn door carefully. When Katie had just about reached the intersection with the main road, she jumped into her buggy and pulled out after her. Seeing that Katie had turned right, rather than continuing straight, she smiled slightly. It doesn’t look like she’s going to the Hoffstetter shop after all. Annie allowed a car to drive by, blocking her from Katie’s rear view. Pulling onto the road, she kept her eyes on the rear of Katie’s buggy.

In her own buggy, Katie was so focused on what she was going to say to anyone she encountered that she didn’t even realize she was being followed. Finally arriving at the English fabric shop, she jumped out of her buggy and hurried inside. As she allowed the door to swing shut, she became aware of several narrow-eyed looks from the English customers inside. Scuttling over to the fabric section, Katie realized that she wasn’t the only target of the less-than-welcoming looks from the English. Other Amish customers—of which there were very few—received the same looks. Choosing what she needed, she grabbed several spools of sewing thread and replacement needles for her sewing machine.

“Katie, do you see how they’re looking at us? It’s scary!” Libby King, her closest friend, was standing right next to her, shrinking her petite frame as though she wished to disappear. I’m just going to buy what Mam needs and get back home. I don’t like being here right now. I’ll see you.” Hurrying, Libby moved straight for the registers.

“Wait, Libby! I’m done. I want to get out of here myself.” As she and Libby were checked out, Katie realized that the old friendliness of the cashiers was gone. Licking her lips, she dared to speak up about that. “Um, Amanda? Why is everyone looking at us like they want us out of here?”

Because Amanda was an employee and an assistant manager, she was forced to be courteous. But she extended only the minimum of courtesy to the two Amish girls. “You must be aware of that hateful, horrible rumor making the rounds. After all, we certainly are. Someone’s accusing one of us of ordering the entire Amish community to leave here.”

Katie’s stomach was filled with worms. Or at least it felt that way. She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Amanda sighed. “Miss, we know it’s a lie. We welcome everyone here. It’s just...this is hurting our community too. I just want whoever is saying these things to go away. They’re not wanted here.”

Go away. You are not wanted here.

I brought this on myself. Again.

If you say anything, they’ll cast you out. Little girls who tell bad stories are always punished.

Spots blossomed in Katie’s eyes as the edges of her vision went dark. It was like she was looking at everything through a long tunnel. Her skin was cold, and her tongue felt too big for her mouth.

Libby took Katie’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“Maybe it’s all just some kind of mistake,” Katie suggested.

“It doesn’t look like a mistake. We know that you prefer to live separate and why you do. And we respect that. We even remind tourists of what your Ordnung states that you can do and why. I can tell you that there is no English person out there who wants you gone. We are a community, Amish and English. If you know who is spreading this nasty lie, I hope you’ll tell that person that they are singlehandedly destroying the good relationship between you and us. Here are your things. Have a wonderful day. I think you two had better leave before our ‘English’ customers throw you out.”