Plain Threats

Rebecca nodded. Hannah seemed happy outside the Amish, so why did the thought of her son leaving the Amish fill her with unbearable sadness?

Because leaving meant walking away from everything Rebecca firmly believed. It wasn’t about happiness in the moment; it was about faith and God and heaven.

What would happen if Samuel left?

Rebecca ran a hand over her forehead. The beginning of a headache was pulsing behind her eyes.

“Excuse me.” The elderly lady seated at the window booth snapped Rebecca out of her reverie. “Could we have more coffee, please?”

Rebecca tugged at the edge of her apron, embarrassed that she had been inattentive. “Of course.” She spun on her heel and strode toward the coffeemaker.

Flo came out of the back and gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, honey. You need to let go and let God.”

Rebecca smiled in spite of herself. Flo’s outward expressions of faith were contrary to her Amish upbringing, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same.

She had to have faith.

A tiny bit of the weight lifted from her shoulders. She grabbed the coffee and strolled over to her only customers.

* * *

A few nights later, Jake pulled his pickup truck—a vehicle that had seen better days—over to the edge of the road in front of the Troyers’ farm. The sun had already set and the final remnants of light were making their last stand. An unpainted split rail fence separated the property from the country road. Beyond the house, barn and a few small structures, corn grew for miles.

Jake pushed open his truck’s door and climbed out. He flipped up his collar, hunched into his coat and shuddered. He’d grown up in this part of the country, but he’d never get used to how quickly summer’s heat turned to fall’s cool evenings.

Jake had stopped by the diner this afternoon. He had been disappointed that he hadn’t run into Rebecca, but he had gleaned some useful information. He’d overheard the Troyers had hosted church service this morning, which meant they were hosting the youth singing now. Jake hoped he had timed it correctly to catch some of the youngie as they were arriving. He wanted to talk to Samuel, in part to clear up any misunderstanding as to why he was at his home the other night. He didn’t want to jeopardize his relationship with the Amish youth. Outwardly, it would hurt his research and his position at the university, but more important, he wanted to be in a position to help Samuel if he had gotten caught up in something. If Samuel pushed him away, he wouldn’t be able to help.

Jake’s failure to help Elmer would haunt him forever.

Jake wanted to see firsthand why Rebecca was worried about Samuel. To date, the young men he had talked to had not given him cause for major concern apart from the normal shenanigans of an Amish male prior to baptism. But the sheriff’s concerns about drugs in the Amish community made him wary.

And Rebecca’s plea for help wouldn’t allow him to let this go.

The tiny stones on the driveway crunched under his brown loafers. Singing flowed out from the barn. The event must have started earlier than he had thought. As he got closer, he noticed a few Amish boys leaning against a buggy, the red glow of cigarettes lighting up with each puff like fireflies setting the night aglow.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Jake approached them, scanning their faces. No Samuel.

“Ah, it’s the professor. So nice to see you,” one of them said. Even with the Pennsylvania Dutch accent, Jake recognized the universal language of sarcasm.

Jake knew the youth. Eli Troyer. Apparently being the host family for the singing didn’t mean he felt obligated to sit through song after song from the Ausbund.

“Sorry to crash your party,” Jake said, trying to sound nonthreatening.

Eli tossed his cigarette on the gravel and snuffed it out with the tip of his boot. Uri and Jonas Yoder, Rebecca’s farmhands, watched silently, puffing on their cigarettes. Jake wondered how Eli’s father felt about finding all the cigarette butts around the barn after the Amish youth descended upon his home.

“What’s up, Professor? You looking to take notes? Count how many cigarettes I’ve had? Rat me out to my mem?” Eli gave him a pointed glare, narrowing his lips and emitting a steady stream of smoke.

Jake ignored the comment. “I’m looking for Samuel.”

Eli adjusted his hat farther back on his head, the soft light from the barn lit on the amusement in his eyes. “Didn’t you get enough information from his mem?”

One of the Yoder brothers laughed, a monotone sound that lacked amusement.

“I told you my research was private. That I protect your identities unless you give me permission to use your names.”

Eli tapped out another cigarette and put it between his lips without lighting it. The crunching sound of footsteps on gravel grew closer. Samuel strolled around the corner. His eyes widened a fraction at seeing Jake, but he quickly composed himself, shoved his hands under his armpits and exuded an air of aloofness. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m done talking.”

“Because I talked to your mother?”

Samuel pushed the gravel around with the toe of his boot. “Exactly. You didn’t keep your end of the bargain. I talked to you for research for some stupid paper you had to write on the wild Amish youth.” In the heavy shadows, Jake couldn’t see it, but he sensed an eye roll accompanying the word stupid.

“My research is important.” But not as important as the welfare of this young man.

“Not to me.”

Uri, Jonas and Eli laughed at their friend’s witty comeback. It was as Jake feared. However, securing his research subjects was only part of the reason he had driven out here tonight. The other was concern for Rebecca’s safety. Someone obviously had something against her and wasn’t ready to let it go. He had heard rumblings throughout the Amish community that not everyone believed Rebecca was blameless. He had heard one young man repeat the ramblings of his father. “It wonders me how a wife couldn’t know what her husband was up to. She’s just as guilty, I tell you.”

Then there was the issue of drugs in Apple Creek and Rebecca’s concerns that perhaps Samuel had gotten himself involved.

How had he paid for all the electronics in his room?

Like a research puzzle, Jake wanted to snap all the pieces into place in hopes of discovering what was going on here before any more lives were ruined.

“Can you give me a few minutes, Samuel?” Jake tipped his head toward his truck parked on the side of the road. “I can give you a ride home. It’ll be a lot warmer than riding in a friend’s buggy. Unless, of course, you brought your own buggy.” Jake glanced around but couldn’t determine how Samuel had gotten here.

Samuel glanced down, studying the gravel. “I’m going to the singing.”

“We both know you have no plans to join the group.”

“The professor got one thing right.” Uri playfully punched Samuel in the arm. “But my friend here ain’t going with an Englisher.”

Jake caught Samuel’s eye; a mix of defiance and fear flashed in their depths.

Jake pulled the zipper on his jacket up to his neck, blocking the brisk fall breeze. “Can I ask you guys something?”

Eli leaned back on the buggy and rested the heel of his boot on the wheel. The other three youth looked at him with apparent disinterest.

“The sheriff told me there are a lot of drugs flowing through Apple Creek.”

Eli grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You guys know anything about that? Heard about anyone dealing?” Jake jerked his chin toward the crops. “Heard of anyone growing marijuana?”

Uri laughed. “Yeah, we’ll be selling marijuana at the roadside stand next to corn and pumpkins.”

Jake turned to Samuel. “How about you?”

Samuel kept his expression neutral. “The only drug stories I hear are the ones that make the papers.” Like Elmer’s tragic accident. “Sorry...” He shrugged. “Can’t help you.”

They stood staring at one another, silent save for the youth singing in four-part harmony in the barn.

Eli pushed off the wagon wheel. “Let’s get out of here. This singing is a drag tonight.” Eli gestured to what Jake thought was the buggy with an overabundance of reflector decals, but actually, he was looking past the Amish form of transportation to a ten-year-old beater car Jake hadn’t noticed before. “Let’s leave before my mem brings out snacks. Then we’ll be forced to join the group.”

“Samuel?” Jake asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

“I gotta go, man.” Samuel turned his back to Jake and followed his friends. The four of them got into the car, Uri behind the wheel. The engine roared to life and the worn tires spit out gravel before the treads finally gained purchase and the car tore out of the yard.

A couple horses lifted their heads and snorted in protest. Jake watched the red taillights disappear into the dark night.

Jake wondered if his father had been this rebellious before he convinced Jake’s mother to pack it up and leave everything that she’d ever known for a life on the outside.

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