The Sound of Distant Thunder Read online

  Jonas glanced at Katie’s worried face, then faced Levi again. “I don’t know.” The memory of the casualty lists in the newspaper flashed in his mind. “I hope I never have to make that decision.”

  7

  AUGUST 24

  While the morning was still cool, Abraham walked with Lydia, Jonas, and Ruby to the Beilers’ farm for church. They would arrive early, but he had no desire to make the two-mile journey after the sun started beating down on them. When they arrived, families stood in the shade of the trees talking quietly with one another. He hadn’t been the only one with the idea to avoid the heat.

  Gustav welcomed him with a wave and pulled him over to the shade of the barn. “Did you hear what Lemuel did last Sunday at the Walnut Creek church?”

  Since building their meetinghouse last year, the Walnut Creek congregation had started meeting on a weekly basis like the Mennonites did, rather than every other Sunday. Abraham wondered if the members of the church missed the fellowship and close family ties they had enjoyed during the off-church Sundays.

  “I haven’t heard anything,” Abraham said. “I don’t listen to gossip.”

  “This isn’t gossip.”

  Gustav looked indignant and Abraham patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry. What were you going to tell me?”

  “Bishop Lemuel encouraged his members to vote in the election in October.”

  “We knew he would do that. He has admitted that he thinks we should make our voice heard in politics.”

  “But he said it during a sermon.” Gustav emphasized the last word, his nose turning red. “He is now mixing Scripture and worldly events. How far will he go?”

  Abraham smoothed his beard. “As far as his congregation lets him, I suppose.”

  “It doesn’t upset you?”

  “It bothers me more than you can know,” Abraham said. “But this is Sunday morning and time to worship. I’ll not let another man’s actions rob me of that peace.”

  But Gustav’s news had done its work, Abraham thought to himself a few hours later as the service ended and folks started making preparations for the meal. It had intruded on his thoughts all morning, as much as he had tried to prevent it. As he helped carry the benches to set up the tables in the shady yard, he noticed Gustav talking to Preacher Amos, his hands gesturing as he spoke. He joined them, along with a few other men.

  “We have to do something about it,” Gustav said. “He can’t be allowed to carry on like this without some sort of protest from the other churches.”

  “Do about what?” Peter Lehman asked.

  Gustav told the group what he had told Abraham before church. “We have to do something about it,” he said again.

  Preacher Amos fingered his beard, rocking back on his heels. “What would you suggest?”

  Gustav glared. “I don’t know what we can do. The man is out of control.”

  “This is a bishop you’re talking about,” Amos said, his voice calm. “We need to speak with respect.”

  Gustav frowned at the mild rebuke.

  “We could write a letter from our congregation to his, talking about our concerns,” Peter said. “Bishop or not, he and his congregation need to know that we feel they are wrong in pursuing this direction. This isn’t the first time they have participated in elections.”

  “Did he try to tell people how to cast their vote?” asked Wilhelm Stuckey, one of Gustav’s sons.

  “Bishop Lemuel has never made a secret of supporting the Democrats. He says he’s a ‘Peace Democrat’ because he supports ending the war.” Gustav’s temper seemed to be more under control as he spoke. “And I heard he was supporting Vallandigham for congress.”

  “Who?” asked Simeon Keck.

  Preacher Amos nodded. “I heard that too. Mr. Vallandigham is the one who proposed the scheme we’re going to be discussing after dinner, so we’ll wait until then to talk about it. But do others think Peter is right? That we should write to him regarding our feelings about his actions?”

  The call for dinner sounded as the men in the circle nodded their agreement. They made their way to the tables filled with sandwiches and various salads. After the prayer for the meal, Abraham and Gustav took seats at one end of the table.

  “What do you think?” Gustav asked, taking a sandwich and passing the plate to Abraham. “You were very quiet during that discussion.”

  “I agree with you that Bishop Lemuel was wrong in taking this step, but I’m not sure a letter will be effective.”

  Gustav nodded. “They have a way of ignoring what we say.”

  “You’re turning this issue into an ‘us’ and ‘them’ problem again. This issue is bigger than who is wrong and who is right. The issue is whether our church, the Amish church, is following Scripture or not. We aren’t responsible to make sure the Walnut Creek congregation follows what we believe God’s Word is saying. We’re only responsible for ourselves.”

  “But as long as we’re in fellowship with the other Amish churches—”

  Abraham raised his hand to interrupt Gustav. “Ja, ja, ja. We have a responsibility to point out error where we see it. The question that remains is what the best way is to do that.”

  Gustav finished his sandwich. “Another thing I wanted to talk to you about is our children.”

  “Jonas and Katie?”

  His friend’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Who else?”

  Abraham chuckled. “They’re the only ones. All of your other children are married.”

  “Ja, ja, ja,” Gustav said. “That is true.” He took a bite of potatoes and swallowed. “Now we find out that your Jonas wants to marry my Katie.”

  “We’ve known this was coming for a long time.”

  “You might have known, but our Katie is so young. We hadn’t expected them to talk about it so soon.”

  “Have you heard what their plans are?”

  “Katie said they wanted to be married in November, after taking the membership class.”

  “That soon?” Abraham speared a potato slice with his fork. That would mean Jonas would be joining church this fall, but would he join out of love for the Lord and for the church? Or was it only to be able to marry?

  “Don’t worry. Margaretta and I told them they had to wait until after Katie turns eighteen next year, and after they’ve both joined the church. The last time I spoke to them about it, they agreed to an August wedding. Next August.”

  “That sets my mind at ease.” Abraham looked across the table at his friend. “I suppose that means we’ll finally be related, you old German.”

  Gustav showed his teeth in the grimace he liked to call a smile. “I suppose so, you old Yankee.”

  Abraham chuckled and went back to his potato salad.

  Katie wiped a drip of sweat from the end of her nose with her forearm. Washing dishes was a hot chore on a warm day like this, but she was nearly at the end. After these plates were washed, she and the other girls could have their dinner.

  Rosie Keck dried the dishes as Millie Beiler, Levi’s sister, rinsed them in a dishpan of clear water.

  “I’m so hungry,” Rosie said, taking the next dish from Millie. “You’d think they’d let us eat first, and then start washing the dishes.”

  “This is our opportunity to serve,” Millie said.

  Rosie and Katie exchanged glances behind Millie’s back.

  “That sounds like something I’ve heard your father say,” Katie said. “Wasn’t it in his sermon this morning?”

  Millie beamed, her face as pink and round as her brother’s. “It was. Father was talking about it at supper last night too. Every chore that we dislike is our opportunity to serve. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “I don’t know about you,” Rosie said, wiping another plate, “but I think I’m about done serving today. Wasn’t there going to be a meeting this afternoon? And is it for everyone, or only those of us who are members of the church?”

  “I think everyone is invited,” Katie said, handing the last dish t
o Millie. “From what Levi said when he brought the news, it’s something that affects everyone.”

  Katie dried her dishwater-wrinkled hands and filled one of the plates with a ham sandwich, pickles, and potato salad. The girls found a bench at the edge of the assembled crowd just in time to bow their heads as Preacher Amos Beiler started the opening prayer.

  As the prayer ended, Rosie leaned toward Katie. “I thought my stomach would start growling before he finished.”

  Katie smothered a giggle, then took a bite of her sandwich.

  The meeting started with some remarks from Preacher Amos about the war, and then he said, “We have received word that Ohio is being asked to send seventeen additional regiments to the army. In the last fifteen months, the quotas have been met by volunteers, but the governor believes that all of the volunteers have already joined other regiments. So he has called for the legislature to authorize conscription, which they have done.”

  Rosie leaned toward Katie again. “What does that mean?”

  For once, Katie was glad she had listened when Jonas had read his newspapers to her. “It means the government can force men to join the army.”

  “What if they don’t want to go?”

  Katie shushed Rosie as Preacher Amos started talking again.

  He held up a letter for everyone to see. “We, that is, all of the nonresistant churches in the state, have received assurance that our men will not be forced to fight. Instead, we will be allowed to pay a fee of two hundred dollars. Or the draftee will be allowed to hire a substitute.”

  Simeon Keck, Rosie’s father, stood. “What does that mean, to hire a substitute?”

  “It means that the man whose name appeared on the list of draftees could pay someone to take his place.”

  “So this substitute would be doing the fighting, and killing, in place of me?” Simeon asked.

  Preacher Amos nodded. “That’s right.”

  “And this man could potentially be killed?”

  Preacher Amos nodded again.

  “I will not be part of that kind of scheme.” Simeon turned to the men and women sitting behind him. “If my substitute is acting for me, then I would feel that I’m guilty of murder with every man he kills while fighting in the war. And if he is killed, his blood would also be on my head. I am glad for the alternative of only paying a fee. Two hundred dollars is a lot of money, but I’d rather pay that than suffer the guilt I would feel by hiring a substitute.”

  Many of the folks lining the benches nodded their agreement to Simeon’s words, but then Papa stood up.

  “Does this letter give any conditions to the option of paying the fee?”

  Preacher Amos scanned the letter. “It only says that members of nonresistant churches are eligible.”

  “What about sons of members?” Papa said. “We have many young men in our church who are not yet the age to consider baptism and membership in the church, yet are eligible to be drafted. Would they be able to do this?”

  As Preacher Amos read the letter to himself, the gathered men and women talked among themselves.

  Rosie yawned. “I wish they would just end this meeting. I need to be home before suppertime.”

  “Why?” Millie asked. She was sitting on the other side of Rosie.

  “Oh, no reason.” Rosie smiled.

  Millie covered her mouth. “Is your beau coming to visit you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Rosie’s smile grew.

  “What else would it be?”

  Katie leaned forward to hear how Rosie was going to answer Millie’s question, but just then Preacher Amos started talking again.

  “I see nothing here that stipulates that the young man himself needs to be a member. The wording states ‘part of the congregation,’ with no mention of membership.”

  “What would these two hundred dollars be used for?” Samuel Weaver stood up. “Will it be used to support the war? To hire substitutes whether we want them or not?”

  “We have no information on that,” Preacher Amos said.

  “I don’t speak for any of you,” Samuel said, looking around at the gathered men, “but I will not contribute any money to support the war, and I will not hire a substitute.”

  “What if you have no choice?” Simeon Keck asked. “What if it’s either that or fight in the army?”

  Samuel didn’t answer at first but only looked at the ground. Abraham Weaver, who was sitting next to him, stood and motioned for Samuel to take his seat.

  “We need to remember that our members do not fight in wars. The government has given us an alternative, but some may not wish to accept it. But any member who willingly joins the army, regardless of the situation, would be in danger of shunning.” He looked toward Bishop and Preacher Amos for confirmation.

  In the silence that followed Abraham’s statement, Rosie started to whisper something to Katie, but she shushed her. “I want to hear what they’re going to say.”

  At Bishop’s nod, Amos sighed. “That is right, Brother Abraham. Of course, each man’s actions would be examined, and his reasons, but he would be subject to discipline from the church, and perhaps shunning.”

  “Then the only answer I see is prayer.” Abraham looked at the congregation, finally resting his gaze on his sons. “We must be in prayer that none of our number is selected in this draft, or any in the future.”

  “And if names from our body do come up in the draft?” Simeon asked.

  “Then we pray for guidance in how to proceed.”

  Katie glanced at Jonas, sitting next to Samuel on the bench. His head was bowed, just like his brother’s, and she bowed her head also, silently praying that the Good Lord would spare them.

  As the sun drifted toward the western horizon on Sunday evening, a breeze helped the weather mellow. Jonas wandered to the woodlot after a cold supper, enjoying the quiet. The meeting after church had been an eye-opener with news of the draft. What would he do if his name appeared on the list?

  “Jonas?” Katie had been sitting on the bench, waiting for him. “I hoped you would come here tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see you.” He took her hands in his and gave her a kiss. Nothing was better than spending time with Katie.

  They sat on the bench again, and Jonas was glad that the breeze had found its way into the clearing.

  “What did you think of the meeting?” Katie asked. “It’s the only thing Papa has talked about since then.”

  “I was happy to see that some people in the government have a respect for our religion.”

  “It sounded like Samuel wouldn’t pay the fee or hire a substitute, though. What will he do if his name comes up?”

  Jonas shook his head. “I wish he would just pay the two hundred dollars. The church is asking everyone to contribute to a fund so that anyone whose name is on the list won’t have to bear the expense alone.”

  Katie turned toward him. “What will you do if your name comes up?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out all afternoon.”

  “You’ll pay the fee, won’t you?”

  Jonas didn’t answer right away. The smart thing to do would be to pay the fee. But he still remembered the look on Tom Porter’s face as he talked about the war. He had been scared, but anxious to get into the action. Jonas knew what he believed. War was wrong, and killing another person would be horrible. But would he ever know what he really believed if his convictions were never tested?

  “I think so,” he said. Katie’s eyes glittered at his words. “I believe I would. But it’s easy to talk about it when we’re still weeks away from seeing which names will be chosen. Mine may never appear on the lists.” He stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand. “The same goes for Samuel. If it came down to it, I don’t think he knows what he would do.”

  They sat in silence for a while, listening to the evening sounds in the forest. A mourning dove called from a stand of pine trees near the road, and another answered from deep in the trees. The
sun was fading, and it would soon be twilight.

  Jonas leaned back, ready to tease Katie. She was so cute when she was angry. “If I went off to war, you’d have to find someone else to marry.”

  Her temper exploded, just like he knew it would. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.” She jumped off the bench, facing him. “If you went off to war, Jonas Weaver, you better not come back here. You’ll have to find yourself another wife.”

  He rose and grabbed her in his arms, tightening his embrace as she struggled to get away. Once she was quiet in his arms, he loosened his grip. “Who else would you want to marry besides me?” he asked, whispering in her ear.

  She turned to face him and put her arms around his neck. “Hmm. Maybe Levi Beiler.”

  Jonas dropped his arms and took a step back. “Levi Beiler? He’s . . . he’s . . .”

  “A nice boy and a minister’s son. I like Levi.”

  She couldn’t be serious. She had to be teasing him, just as he had been teasing her. Levi Beiler? Levi’s round pink face flashed through his mind. She couldn’t like him.

  Katie giggled. “You’re turning red.” She grabbed his hands. “I like Levi, and Millie is a good friend. But I wouldn’t want to marry him. I don’t want to marry anyone but you.”

  He pulled her close again, drawn by her very kissable lips. “You won’t get a chance to marry anyone else. It’s nearly the end of August already.”

  “It’s going to be a long year.” She stood on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But then we’ll never have to be apart again.”

  He nodded, thinking only of returning her kiss, but not on her cheek. He sat down again, and she sat next to him.

  Katie gave a happy sigh and leaned closer to him. The mourning doves called again, and deep in the woods an owl hooted. A chipmunk ran along one of the boards in the pile of lumber, then jumped to the ground. It rustled through the grass and last year’s leaves, looking for food, and not noticing them. Jonas stayed still, watching the little creature until it was nearly touching his toe. Suddenly, it sat up, looking at them for a long minute before leaping away and scampering toward the lumber again.