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Authors: Jerry S. Eicher

Seeing Your Face Again (19 page)

BOOK: Seeing Your Face Again
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“So why are you here?” She regarded him with a skeptical look. “Seems kind of far from home.”

“I have my reasons,” he said enigmatically.

“Family stuff, huh?” She smiled. “But no girl anyway?”

“Well…” Alvin ducked his head. He felt the heat burn on his neck. There was no way he would lie. But he wasn't going to tell her about Debbie.

Crystal chuckled. “Someone steal her from you?”

That was close enough, Alvin figured. He glanced away and still didn't say anything.

Thankfully Brutus bounded in, and Crystal bent over to rub his head. She muttered sweet nothings to him. Moments later Brutus disappeared into the trees again.

Alvin didn't wait for more conversation as he stood and moved deeper into the park. Hopefully Crystal would forget her question. At least she hadn't said anything by the time he found the bench he'd sat on last night. It was still clear of snow, and even the frost had melted off the stone from the morning sun's rays. “Have a seat,” he offered. He waited while Crystal sat down before he did so himself.

“So what do you plan to do with yourself?” she chirped. “Other than keep Mr. Rusty's motel running.”

“I haven't thought that far.” He stole a glance at her.

She leaned forward and looked intently at the snow in front of them.

“Deer droppings.” Crystal pushed snow on top of the offending particles. “There seems to be more of them every year. I sure hope Brutus doesn't run across one. He'll chase deer, and I don't have the energy today to track him down.” Crystal stood and whistled. Brutus appeared at once. “Stay around here,” she hollered at him.

The dog seemed to understand. Brutus kept his next run to a broad circle within sight of the bench. “He's an obedient dog,” Alvin commented.

“Yep, you can train them.” Crystal's voice was clipped, like she didn't think some things in life could be trained.

They sat mostly quietly with a few moments punctuated by small talk until Crystal said, “Well, I'd better get back. Mom and Dad have a get-together with some old friends tonight, and I'm supposed to be there.”

“Why don't you live at home?” Alvin winced as soon as the words came out of his mouth. How stupid that question sounded! Things were different out here. Older, unmarried people didn't live at home.

Crystal didn't seem to mind. “Little birdies are supposed to fly the nest at a young age. Don't yours?”

Alvin hesitated. “Well, we do. When we marry, that is. Except for the girls who never…” He let the sentence hang.

She smiled. “I understand.”

He went on. “Well, it's just very different out here. Believe me, you don't know how different.”

Silence followed.

Has Crystal ever been married?
Alvin wondered. He didn't ask though. How could she have been married? He couldn't imagine
that Crystal would leave a man who loved her, which any man would. He was certain of that. Alvin stole a quick glance at her face.

As if she knew his question, she gave him a warm smile. “Don't even ask,” she said.

The words came out in a rush. “I didn't mean to imply anything.”

“It's okay.” Her smile didn't fade. She whistled for Brutus. When the dog trotted up, Alvin snapped on the leash. Brutus strained and pulled him along as they headed for home. Crystal walked beside them on the sidewalk.

She broke the silence. “I work for the government, in the tourist department. We handle the downtown area, though we're not busy this time of the year, of course.”

He spoke before he thought. “What's there to see downtown? Every day I see mostly ugly old buildings sitting around.”

She regarded him for a moment. “You really don't know?”

He grew warm under his coat. What had he said now that was stupid? He muttered, “I'm sorry. What did I miss?”

Slow comprehension dawned on her face. “I guess you do come from Amish country.”

“Yes.” He pulled himself together. “You still haven't told me what's in downtown Philadelphia.”

Her laugh was short. “Only a little thing like the original copy of the Declaration of Independence and the Liberty Bell, to name a couple.”

Alvin swallowed hard as his mind rushed back to his eighth-grade social studies class. Of course! How could he have forgotten? The lessons hadn't seemed real or important back then. That had all been in a book, and this was a big city. He managed a grin. “That's ‘Amish farm boy' stupid, I guess.”

She shrugged. “At least you admit it, unlike half of the country, it seems. The schools have gone to pot, in my opinion. They don't teach history like they should.”

“The education was there,” he said at once. “It was me.”

She took the leash from him. “That's sweet of you to admit, Alvin. You want to do this again some evening?”

He held open the front door of the apartment building for her. “I'd love to.”

They rode the elevator in silence and parted with a smile and a nod when she got off on the fourth floor. They'd made no arrangement as to when they'd meet again, but Alvin knew it would work out. This friendship seemed destined to progress.

Eighteen

A
t the Sunday night hymn singing in Snyder County, Debbie lagged behind when the line of girls filed through the serving line for supper. She watched Paul Wagler finagle his way in the men's line to where he wanted to be—right across from her. No doubt he'd crack his first joke soon—and after her sleepless night on Saturday due to her concern over her future here she was in no mood for jokes.

The man didn't appear too happy right now, Debbie thought. Probably because she'd stepped out of line for a moment and threw off his timing. He was now in the men's line at least four people ahead of her. Debbie kept her head down. Hopefully her maneuver would discourage Paul from attempting conversation. But the man was known for his determination. If he did engage her, she would have no choice but to respond the best she could. A scene was the last thing she needed right now.

Her thoughts drifted to yesterday and her conversation with Bishop Beiler as they cleaned stalls. He'd been more than kind to share with her the information about Alvin. She was thankful for his efforts, but Bishop Beiler had no idea the agony the revelation had caused her. Kindhearted Ida had noticed even though Debbie
had tried to hide her feelings. Her friend had come into her room after supper.

“What is it?” Ida asked as she sat on the bed beside her. “Has Lois's coming today disturbed you?”

Debbie winced. “No, I'm glad Lois could come. I enjoyed every minute of it.” That wasn't quite true. She'd felt sorry for Saloma and imagined how she must have felt as Lois chattered on about her new life among the
Englisha.

“Then what is it?” Ida's hand reached over to squeeze hers. Her face was full of compassion.

“I'd rather not talk about it right now. I've got to think things through.”

“You know I'm here anytime you want to talk.” Ida stood to leave.

“Thanks,” Debbie said.

Ida headed to her own room.

How could she share her disappointment that some folks in the community might be suspecting Alvin of being a thief? Debbie wondered. And this from his own father! No, that just wasn't possible. She knew him too well. Alvin was insecure, yes. But he wouldn't stoop to dishonesty. Even Bishop Beiler had to know that. She could tell by the look on his face. But evidence was what it was. And from the talk after the church services today, the bishop hadn't exaggerated. The woman at the first table Debbie had served talked of little else, and others joined in.


Nee
, he's not replied to the deacon's letter yet.”

“I don't know what his answer could be, other than coming back at once and repenting of his sins.”

“How is the man supporting himself out there? You know that life among the
Englisha
isn't cheap.”


Yah
, and my Matthias told me an
Englisha
machine can cost ten thousand dollars easily. Where does that kind of money come from?”

“We now know his
daett
doesn't have any money.”

And then the final comment that always brought the conversations to a tight-lipped halt. “I heard Alvin's
daett
visited Deacon Mast this week. Seems like Edwin's run out of feed, and the winter isn't half over.”

This was always followed by gasps and comments.

“You don't say!”

“I can't believe that!”

“The family is so upstanding with the
Ordnung
!”

And then silence would fall.

Debbie had finally fled to the kitchen even though her hands still held a peanut butter bowl. When she had collected herself enough to return, shocked silence still hung over the table. Only a few whispered conversations had begun again. And things had been that way all afternoon.

Paul's voice brought Debbie out of her thoughts with a jolt. “Hello there, Tweety-tweet. What's the long face about?” He stepped out of line and reached over to touch her arm.

Debbie almost slapped his hand but caught herself in time. The girls around her giggled. They obviously would love to have this much attention from the handsome Paul Wagler. And none of them would understand if she openly rejected him.

Debbie cooed back, “I was thinking wonderful thoughts about you.”

There was loud laughter from the men's line. One of them spoke up. “That's telling him
gut
.”

Paul shrugged off the implied insult. “At least she's thinking about me, which none of you handsome dudes can stake a claim to.”

“Hey, what about that!” Several of the men slapped each other on the back. “He says we're handsome.”

Paul laughed and stepped back in line. He gave Debbie a sharp glance.

Clearly Paul wasn't through with her tonight, Debbie thought.
No doubt he wanted a positive answer on his question of whether she'd allow him to drive her home tonight.

The line moved forward again. Debbie filled her plate with food. She hadn't been hungry, with all her thoughts and worries from the last few days, but the meat casserole and the canned corn steaming in the bowl made her mouth water. Debbie took large portions. To compensate, she took a smaller piece of shoofly pie when she reached the end of the line.

Paul was waiting for her by the side of the kitchen doorway. He smiled and whispered, “What's Melvin Kanagy doing here tonight?”

“How would I know?” Debbie asked. Then she added, “Maybe he's after me.”

Paul glared at her. “Ha, ha. Why would he show up out of the blue at a youth gathering? Melvin's a married man.”

“His wife has passed on, hasn't she?”

Paul glared even more. “
Yah
. How do you know that?”

“It's not like it's a secret. Everyone knows.” Was Paul jealous? If so, Debbie couldn't let the moment pass. “He
is
quite handsome, isn't he? And he's the minister's brother. Maybe he's here to ask to drive someone home.”

Paul's glare turned into shock. “You?”

“I didn't say that…”

Paul surveyed her face. “Ah, so you're teasing.”

At least he knew her well enough to figure that out. But it had taken him a moment. “So what
is
Melvin here for?” Paul hadn't moved. Several people had to walk around them.

“You're creating a scene,” Debbie whispered.

That seemed to convince him, and he moved on with a perplexed look still on his face.

Why
was
Melvin Kanagy here? Debbie wondered. She glanced toward Ida, who was already seated at the table. Melvin had just taken his place in the food line and a smile lingered on his face. If she didn't miss her guess, Melvin had directed that smile in Ida's
direction. Hadn't her friend said something about Melvin glancing at her during the meeting? Was that why he was here? Because of Ida? Paul was right. Melvin wouldn't show up like this unless he had a good reason.

BOOK: Seeing Your Face Again
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