Plain Admirer Page 14

  “What did you say?”

  “I said you’re right,” she repeated in a louder voice.

  He chuckled. “How hard was that to say?”

  She rolled her eyes and picked up her supplies. “Laugh if you like, I have work to do.”

  He put the book away. “Otis told me you decided to come back to your old job. Why?”

  “How is he today?”

  She avoided his question by asking one of her own, he noticed. “He has a bad headache. I tried to get him to leave, but he insists on staying.”

  “Stubborn must run in your family,” she said.

  “Tell me, why does someone who loves research, reading and writing as much as you do, give it up to scrub floors?”

  She glared at him, her green eyes snapping. “There’s nothing wrong with cleaning floors. Cleanliness is next to godliness.”

  He held up his hand. “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. I only wondered why you chose it over working on the magazine and newspaper.”

  She looked down at the floor. “It was time for a change.”

  “Are you sure it’s not because I work there now?”

  She still didn’t look at him. “I accepted this job before you accepted yours.”

  He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He picked up another book and pretended to read the back cover. “Otis wants me to write an article for next month’s magazine.”

  “On what?”

  Mabel came over to him. “Are you interested in child-rearing?”

  He looked at the book in his hand and hastily returned it to the shelf. “I’m just browsing.”

  “That’s fine. Let me know if I can be of assistance.” Mabel walked back to the counter and sat down. He turned to find Joann smothering a grin.

  He liked her smile. He liked the way it made her eyes sparkle. Her grin slowly faded. She looked down. “What are you writing an article about?”

  “The law and our responsibilities.”

  “Because of what’s been happening?”

  “I assume that’s why Otis chose the topic. Perhaps because of my accident, as well.”

  “It is a relevant topic.”

  “What is your opinion? Should an Amish person call or notify the police when they are the victim of a crime? Does that go against our teachings of nonresistance and nonviolence? The Bible says in Matthew 5:39, ‘But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.’”

  She folded her arms and nibbled at her lower lip. “If you’re asking me what I want done about the license plate number I wrote down, I would like to give it to the sheriff.”

  “There is a larger question besides what you or I would like to do. It’s about what we should do.”

  “You believe we should do nothing.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “By doing nothing, aren’t we leading weaker souls into temptation?”

  “How so?”

  “Might someone decide it’s easier to rob an Amish home because he thinks that crime won’t be reported? What is our responsibility to him?”

  “You think we should take temptation out of his way.”

  “Yes, but how? By keeping our money out of sight and in a safe place, or by letting it be known his crime will be reported to the Englisch law? Paul urged Christians to give civil authorities their dues with regard to taxes, respect and honor.”

  The fire was back in her green eyes. Why had he ever thought she was homely? He said, “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “I look forward to reading your article. Do you have your answer?”

  “I think so. We should feel we can report a crime and answer police questions if we’re asked, but we shouldn’t seek revenge. We shouldn’t file charges or seek damages from others. I think in this way we will remain true to the teachings of Christ.”

  “You have forgotten the most important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We must forgive those who harm us.”

  Trust her to point out his failings. Why did he think she might understand his struggle? He took a step back. “I haven’t forgotten. Enjoy your new job.” He left the bookstore, slamming the door behind him.

  He worked the rest of the afternoon on the article his uncle had assigned him. Three times he painstakingly typed out his thoughts and three times he tore the page out of the typewriter, wadded it up and tossed it toward the trash can. He left work that evening hoping something would occur to him out at the lake.

  He was happy to discover a new letter waiting for him when he reached his now favorite spot. This time, he had taken his pole and hoped to get in a few hours of fishing before dark. He opened his note.

  My Friend,

  It seems we share the same sense of the absurd. Mr. Raccoon has not put in another appearance. Clearly, he is ashamed of his earlier behavior and is trying to avoid me.

  I’m sorry your troubles at work are getting worse instead of better. I, too, am saddened by the cruel and senseless behavior I’ve seen lately. Are we perhaps talking about the same events in our community? I’m referring to the Amish schoolhouse fire and the injury of Otis Miller when someone threw a brick through the window of his business. These nameless individuals may think they are hurting the Amish, but they are only hurting themselves. I feel sorry for them.

  As for your personal struggle, I urge you to do what you know is right. That is usually the truest course. If you can, seek the wisdom of men you admire and take their words to heart. Very few people have lived a life free of pain. Some may even have faced the same issue that is troubling you. We do not travel though this world alone.

  Forgiveness is not easy. Some hurts are so deep that we can see only despair and question why God has chosen this for us. Forgiveness is God’s mighty gift to the giver. It heals the one who was harmed. It can also heal those who have caused harm if they acknowledge what they have done and seek redemption.

  I hope you continue to draw comfort from this beautiful spot, and I hope you find my letters as comforting as I find yours. I will heed your sage advice and seek the strengths of the man who annoys me. If I don’t find any, I’m willing to make the trade. You name the time and place.

  The hardware store in Hope Springs carries a good selection of fishing tackle. You can find several kinds of jig-n-pigs there.

  May God bless you and keep you.

  The Happy Angler

  Reading one of the Happy Angler’s letters always made him feel better. He didn’t have to struggle with his doubts and problems alone. This letter made him almost certain that the Happy Angler was an Amish woman from his community.

  She was someone who was familiar with the recent crime spree. She was also someone who advocated forgiveness even as she acknowledged how difficult that could be. Roman’s curiosity continued to grow about the identity of his friend. Who could she be? He thought of some of the kindhearted single women in his church district. There was Sally Yoder, Grace Beachy and a whole slew of girls his brother’s age. Then there was Lea Belier, the teacher. She would have free time to fish now that school was out for the summer, but who would annoy her at her job? Was she working somewhere else over the summer?

  If he started asking his mother questions about the local single maids, she would start harping about grandchildren again. He would simply have to wonder and hope his unknown friend would one day reveal her identity.

  Of course, it could be Joann Yoder.

  That thought made him flinch. He couldn’t see her starting up a correspondence with a stranger. Sure, Leonard was sometimes difficult to work with, but Joann had taken another job. Nothing in this letter indicated the author planned to change where she worked.

  He mulled over the advice he’d been given. His friend was a very wise person, indeed. Roman spent the next hour fishing without much success. He caught only three small fish and tossed them all ba
ck. As the sun began to set, he wrote:

  Dear Happy Angler,

  You are so right. We do not travel through this world alone. You are proof of that. Yes, I was talking about the Amish schoolhouse fire and the brick-throwing incident. What will it take to restore peace in our community?

  As for forgiveness, I’m working on that. You write with great conviction about the grace forgiveness brings us. I think you are right.

  God bless you and keep writing. I do find comfort in your words.

  Your Friendly Fisherman

  He tucked the brief letter in their makeshift mailbox. He was starting to care a great deal about the woman who wrote such comforting words. Someday, he would tell her in person about the peace her words brought him.

  That evening after supper, he waited for a chance to speak to his father alone. His father was a wise man. If anyone could help him with his dilemma, he could.

  He followed his dad into the living room. “Daed, can I ask you a question?”

  His father settled himself in his favorite chair. “Of course.”

  “I think I know who is behind the attack on Otis and the fire at the school.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s a member of Brendan Smith’s family. I don’t know what to do with the information.”

  Menlo stroked his beard. “You are considering giving it to the police?”

  “Ja. I fear others may be attacked.”

  “I understand your fears. We must trust that God will keep us from harm.”

  “I know, but is that enough?”

  Menlo was silent for long time. Roman waited for his answer. Finally, Menlo spoke. “If I see a house on fire, I will pray for everyone’s safety, but I will sound the alarm and try to save what I can, be it my neighbor or his goods, and I will work to keep the fire from spreading. Gott put me where I could see the flames and help. You must pray for guidance and ask yourself if Gott has put you where you can see the flames.”

  “Danki, Papa. I will do that.”

  The following morning when Roman arrived at the office, he learned Otis wouldn’t be in. Leonard was waiting for him with a note from his aunt. As he read it, Gerald came in.

  “What’s up?” Gerald looked from Leonard to Roman.

  “Otis’s headache has gotten worse. My aunt is taking him back to the hospital at the urging of Dr. Zook. She says that Otis wants me to take charge of the business until he returns.”

  Roman rubbed the back of his neck. The job was beyond him. Without Otis here, he really needed someone who knew what they were doing. Leonard and Otis were both waiting for him to say something. “How are we coming on the schoolbooks?”

  “I printed twenty copies of all the first-grade books yesterday,” Leonard said.

  “I will get the covers on and get them bound today,” Gerald said, then looked as if he wanted to say something else.

  “What?” Roman asked.

  Gerald and Leonard shared a speaking glance. “Otis wanted all the books done by this weekend,” Gerald said. “I don’t think we can do it. Not in addition to getting the paper out and finishing all the other orders we have.”

  “What do you suggest?” Roman wasn’t above asking for help.

  “Get Joann in here,” Leonard stated. “She knows what needs to get done and how to do it.”

  Roman nodded. “Okay, I will ask her to help us.”

  “You will?” Gerald asked in surprise. “I didn’t think the two of you got along.”

  Roman scowled at him. “I won’t let my uncle’s business suffer because of my personal feelings for the woman. Leonard, get started on the second-grade books today. Are there any that we don’t have plates for?”

  Leonard shook his head. “We have plates for everything that Leah has been using. It’s a good thing too, otherwise it would cost more and take more time to set all that type.”

  “Guess we should get busy,” Gerald said. “I sure hope Joann agrees to help.”

  As the men went to work, Roman sat down at his desk and noticed a note with his name on it. He unfolded the wrinkled paper and saw it was his first attempt at writing his article on law and order. There was a note in the margin. “This one is the best. Use it.”

  There was no signature, but he knew the note had come from Joann. She must have come in to straighten up after he left and found his discarded attempts to write his article, then salvaged one.

  He read through the rough draft again. She was right. This version said what he wanted to say without sounding judgmental and without preaching. He put a new piece of paper in his typewriter and finished the article. When he was done, he felt a keen sense of accomplishment that he’d rarely known.

  He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the license plate number that Joann had written down. Had God put him and Joann here so that they might see the flames of this evil and sound the alarm?

  Roman prayed he was doing the right thing. He stapled the license number inside a copy of the Family Hour magazine and addressed it to Sheriff Bradley, then put it in the mailbox.

  He drew a deep breath. Now, he needed to convince Joann to come back to work for him. He wasn’t at all certain that she would.

  Chapter Twelve

  She was late.

  Joann stabled her pony without giving him his hay or grain. He whinnied in protest as she closed the stall door. “I’ll be back later to feed you. I promise.”

  It was only the second day of her part-time job and she was thirty minutes late. Otis would not be happy with her.

  She should have waited to go to the lake until after work, but she had been eager to check for another letter and to her delight, there had been one waiting for her. She had lost track of time while writing an answer and now she was late. The letter was tucked in her pocket and the words came back to her now.

  Dear Happy Angler,

  You are so right. We do not travel through this world alone. You are proof of that.

  Her words brought him comfort. She smiled at the thought as she rushed in through the back door of the bookstore and jerked open the supply room door. She grabbed her cleaning supplies and a broom from the corner, spun around and ran into Roman. The handle of her broom smacked the side of his head. She stood speechless with surprise and remorse.

  He rubbed his temple. “Come into my uncle’s office. I need to talk to you.”

  That didn’t sound good. “I really am sorry. It was an accident.”

  “I’m just glad it wasn’t a brick.”

  “Let me put this stuff back and I’ll be right there.” At least he hadn’t asked why she was late.

  She replaced her cleaning supplies and followed him to the office next door. Otis wasn’t in. Roman sat behind his uncle’s desk. His grave expression set off alarm bells in her head. “Where is your uncle?”

  “He is back in the hospital. Apparently, there was some slow bleeding in his brain. My aunt called the bookstore and told Mabel they are taking him into surgery.”

  “Oh, no!” Joann sank onto a nearby chair. “What can I do to help?”

  “I was hoping you would ask that. Can you come back to work in your old position? I don’t know what your pay was, but I will match it.”

  “Of course. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

  “My uncle has left me in charge, but I am woefully unprepared to run this business.”

  He wasn’t just being modest, he was worried. She could see it in his eyes. “I will do whatever I can to help. What projects are being run this week, and where do they stand?”

  “All the schoolbooks are being reprinted,” Roman began. “Otis wanted all of them done by Saturday. We have the first-grade books printed. Gerald is running them through the binder now. Leonard has started on the second-grade books. Fortunately, we have plates for all of them through the eighth grade. If worse comes to worst, we can delay delivery for a few weeks since the children aren’t in school. Besides the newspaper, we have two hundred and fifty wedding invitations that need
to be done by tomorrow, fifty new menus for the Shoofly Pie Café that were promised for Thursday and a half dozen miscellaneous business announcements.”

  “In other words, a lot.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Ja, teacher, we have a lot to do.”

  She didn’t mind her nickname this time. He wasn’t being sarcastic. This Roman Weaver, a man determined to do the best for someone else, was a man she could like.

  She rose to her feet. “I’ll start setting the type for the wedding invitations. We can use the proof press to run them since there aren’t very many. If you start on the layout for the newspaper, we should be able to get it out on time.”

  “Danki, Joann. For agreeing to help, and for commenting on my magazine article. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees when I wrote it.”

  She felt herself blushing. She wasn’t used to him being nice. “That is often the case with writers. That’s why it’s helpful to have someone read your stuff.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “Once Otis gets back, I’m sure he’ll proofread your work.”

  Roman’s eyes darkened with worry. “I wish we could hear how he is doing.”

  She longed to ease his burdens. “We can manage without you for a few hours if you want go to the hospital.”

  He gave her a halfhearted smile. “I’m sure you could manage without me for a lot longer than a few hours, but I feel I have to stay here. This business is important to my uncle. Mabel will let us know something as soon as she hears.”

  Joann studied him in a new light. Her Friendly Fisherman had suggested that she look for Roman’s strengths. She had found them in his writing and even more so in his love for his uncle. She looked forward to telling her friend how well his suggestion had worked.