Authors: Patrick E. Craig
The Road Home (44 page)
After a while another young woman came to the door. She said her name was Augusta, and she asked me what I wanted. I told her who I was and she smiled a strange smile at me. I asked if I could see Robert's parents, but she was very cold and suspicious. She told me that Robert's father had died shortly after he heard about Robert, and his mother was in seclusion and would not see anyone. I told her about Jenny, and she just laughed. She said that I was just another fortune hunter who had heard about the family's tragedy and wanted to cash in. She told me to go away, and then she closed the door in my face. I knocked again, but no one came
.
After a while I went back to the hotel. Tomorrow I will take the proof and show her
.
“Robert, that was his nameâthe red-haired man. I think remember him,” Jenny said softly. She read on.
April 25, 1950. Today I took the papers and went back to the house with Jenny. Instead of a girl in a uniform, a big man in a black suit answered the door. He told me that Miss Augusta had warned him that I would be coming back, and he told me to go away. I begged him to let me see Robert's mother, but he told me if I didn't go away he would call the police. Then he closed the door. I knocked and knocked. After a while a car pulled up in front of the house and two men got out. They didn't say anything to me. They just put me in the car and drove away from the house. Finally one of them asked me where I lived. I told him the name of the hotel and they took me there. When I got out they warned me that if I went back to the house I would be arrested and put in jail. Robert! Why did you leave me? I need you!
May 5, 1950. For the past week I've been trying to call Robert's mother, but every time I get the house, whoever answers hangs up on me. Finally yesterday they told me that they knew where I was staying, and if I ever called again, they would send the police and take my little girl away and put me in jail. My money is almost all gone, and the man at the hotel told me I have one more day to pay him
.
God, why have you abandoned me in this horrible place? I feel so hopeless. I wish I had listened to Daddy. I miss them all so much, but I can never go home. What can I do?
May 6, 1950. Today something frightening happened. While I went to a restaurant with Jenny to get something to eat, someone came into my room. It was very odd because the door wasn't broken and the windows were locked. I knew someone came in because all of Robert's papers were gone. I have the most important ones hidden though, and they didn't find them. I think that the woman, Augusta, sent someone to my room to make sure I couldn't prove anything. I had my diary in my purse, so they didn't get it, but I'm going to take the pages about Robert out and hide them too. Maybe I can still find a way to see Robert's mother
.
Jenny noticed there was one more entry. The handwriting wasn't as smooth, and the ink was smeared as though it had gotten wet.
May 10, 1950. I've been out on the streets since the two men came with the hotel man and put me out. I've been sleeping under the stairs behind an apartment building. Today I met a man named Joe. He said he would let us stay in his apartment and that he would help me to
The letters faded away. The pen had run out of ink. It was the last entry in the book. Jenny threw herself on the bed and began to sob.
Jonathan and Bobby looked awkwardly out the window while her papa sat beside the bed and patted her shoulder. After a while she composed herself and sat up.
“I'm sorry,” Jenny said.
“You're allowed,” Jonathan said.
“Well,” Jenny said, “my mother said she hid something from this Augusta woman. She probably didn't hide it at the hotel because she knew she was going to leave. So if it's not gone forever, perhaps it's here.”
Jenny got up, pulled herself together, and picked up the suitcase. It was an old leather one that looked as if it had been part of a set. She had seen others like this in catalogs. Usually there was another, bigger suitcase and a steamer trunk. She opened the suitcase. It was lined with a flowered material and smelled musty, like an attic. There were straps to hold the clothes, and along both sides were pockets with elastic along the top. Jenny looked through the things inside. There were some clothes, an old magazine from 1950, a brush and comb, and a few other odds and ends. There was nothing else in the suitcase.
Jenny started to close the lid, but Jonathan stopped her. “My mother had a suitcase like this. It was part of her luggage set. She used it when she and my father took trips.”
“I thought it looked like part of one of those sets,” Jenny said. “I've seen pictures in a catalog.”
“This one has a special feature,” Jonathan said. “There's a hidden compartment. Jonathan lifted up the two side pockets and pushed his fingers underneath. Hidden behind them on both sides were two fabric loops attached to the bottom of the suitcase. Jonathan slipped his fingers into the loops and pulled upward. The whole bottom of the suitcase lifted out to reveal a small compartment underneath. In the compartment were two envelopes.
Lying on top of them was a picture. It was her mother with a handsome, well-dressed man who was holding her close. They were both
looking at the camera and smiling. Jenny's mother was obviously pregnant. Jonathan took the first envelope out of the hiding place and opened it. He pulled out a sheaf of papers. They were the same size as the journal.
“The missing pages,” Bobby said.
Jonathan opened the second envelope and took out the papers inside. He unfolded them and showed them to Jenny.
Jenny gasped. The first one was a birth certificate dated January 6, 1947. The name on the certificate was Jennifer Constance St. Clair. It was from a hospital in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. There was a tiny footprint. The names of the parents were written on the certificate. Robert William St. Clair and Rachel Mary St. Clair. Her parents! There it was, right before her eyes. The second document was a marriage license. It was dated September 14, 1946. There were two namesâRobert William St. Clair and Rachel Mary Borntraeger.
“Papa, isn't Borntraeger an Amish name!” Jenny exclaimed.
J
ERUSHA WALKED SLOWLY BACK HOME
from the Lowenstein farm in awe of the mercy and goodness of her God. She could see how the hand of God had been working in their lives all the way back to the day Jenna had died. Step-by-step He had brought them to this day, and now the wonder of His wisdom and love filled her to overflowing.
A fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground as she walked toward the bridge spanning the creek between her home and the Lowenstein place. A crisp bite was in the air, and her boots crunched in the white powder beneath her as she walked. The wind carried a fresh, clean taste, and Jerusha could almost feel a heavy darkness lifting from her daughter. She knew in that moment that all was well with Jenny.
Henry had fetched her when Reuben called from Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, to tell her the news. They had found evidence that proved who Jenny's mother was, and the most amazing thing was that Jenny's mother may have been from an Amish family in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Reuben, Jenny, Bobby, and Jonathan were going to Lancaster to see what they could find out, and then they would be home.
Rachel. Jenny's mother's name was Rachel
. It was all too much for
Jerusha, and she stopped on the bridge and watched the creek flow by beneath her feet. A scripture came to mind.
O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? Or who hath been his counsellor? Or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again?
Weil seiner, und durch ihn, und zu ihm, alle Dinge sind: zu wen, Ruhm auf immer sein. Amen
.
July 4, 1946. Today my new life begins. I moved into Robert's apartment downtown. He is ready to get married right now, but I want to be sure. So much has happened, and I'm afraid. What if Robert doesn't really love me? What if he's just doing his duty as far as the baby is concerned? Now that the war is over and the future of St. Clair Manufacturing in Lancaster is uncertain, Robert has talked to his father about converting the plant to peacetime use
.
There are whole fields of planes and tanks that were ready to go overseas, and then VE day came. Robert says they can tear them apart and use them for scrap metal. There's an automobile plant in Butler that needs lots of steel. Robert's father likes the idea and says Robert can stay here and organize it. I'm so relieved!
Robert's father doesn't know about me yet. I think Robert is afraid to tell him. He says he's going to marry me first so that when the baby is born he can give our baby his name, and his father will have to accept it, but I wonder if he will ever tell his parents about me. I love Robert so much, but sometimes I wish I had just followed my father's way. Everything is so different, and I miss my home and my mama and papa so much
.
Jenny sat at the restaurant table with her papa, Jonathan, and Uncle Bobby. She was putting the torn pages of the journal in order. She took the page she was reading and put it in its place. There were about 70 loose pages, and they had gotten mixed up somehow. Everyone had taken a small pile and sorted them into years, then months, and then days. It had taken them about half an hour. The pages started in early 1946 and ended with the last, terrible entry in 1950.
The men looked at Jenny expectantly as she tapped the pile into an even stack and then looked up from her task. The waitress brought them all some more coffee. Jenny took a deep breath and began to read.
March 23, 1946. Today was a terrible day and a wonderful day. I had whiskey for the first time and it was awful. And then I met a boy. Well, actually a man. He is not Amish, but he is wonderful
.
As Jenny read, it was as though her mother's story began to come to life in her mind. She could see it as if it were a movie.
Rachel Borntraeger walked unsteadily along the road toward her farm. She was getting cold and tired. Her head ached, and she felt sick to her stomach. The March wind had died down, and the chill that had come as the sun set didn't feel so biting. It had actually been almost balmy earlier in the afternoon. There was a hint of spring in the air, and some of the plum trees had already started to blossom. It had been a mild winter, and the snow had melted off a few weeks before.