The Sound of Distant Thunder Page 13

  “You knew I wouldn’t be late. I want to be in Millersburg in time for the draft. Last week when I was there, some fellows made trouble. They set fire to the newspaper office.”

  Levi held the reins, keeping the horse from starting. “Do you think there will be violence today?”

  “It’s hard to tell. The least thing can set them off. Mr. Cabot, the newspaper editor, often said he thought they were being goaded by someone who wants to keep things in Ohio agitated.”

  Levi clicked his tongue and Pacer shook his head as he started off at a steady trot. “Why would they do that?”

  “There are quite a few in Holmes County and the counties around who want Ohio to join the Confederates. The worst part is that because we don’t vote, they’ve claimed that the Amish and Mennonites are on their side.”

  “We’re not on anyone’s side, except that we don’t want to have a war.”

  Jonas drew his coat more tightly around himself. “That’s just it. They don’t want a war either. They want the Federal government to let the Confederate states leave peacefully.”

  “That sounds good to me.” Levi glanced at his friend. “Why do you know so much about this?”

  Jonas shrugged, his breath making a cloud in the pale predawn light. “I’m interested. I want to know what is going on in the world. That’s one reason why I volunteered to go to get the draft results.”

  “So you must side with these . . . what would you call them?”

  “One of the newspapers started calling them Copperheads a while back, and the name stuck. They’re Democrats, trying to work against the republican government. But no, I don’t side with them. My sympathies are with the abolitionists, and they’re Republicans.”

  Levi laughed. “Copperheads? Democrats? Republicans? It sounds like you’re speaking a foreign language.”

  “I know you aren’t all that concerned, and it’s complicated.”

  “You’re right. I’m more concerned with the things of the church than the things of the world.” Levi paused as he guided Pacer around a mud hole. “You should be too. A good Amishman doesn’t get involved in worldly things.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the right way, though.” Jonas’s voice was thoughtful. “By knowing what is going on in the world, we know how to act when something happens that could affect us, like this draft.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Part of what I love about our church is that even though we take pains not to stand out from one another, we encourage people to pursue ideas that interest them. The church considers new ideas all the time, contrary to what those folks in Walnut Creek believe. But we consider the ideas and then come to an agreement on whether they are good for the church, or ill. Your interest in this war has made us aware of how we can legally avoid military service, and that’s a good thing.”

  “I think we should be wise in the ways of the world. Or at least a few should be.”

  “The Good Book says that God gives gifts to people, and those gifts should be used for the church.”

  Jonas chuckled. “Now you sound like a real minister.”

  By the time they reached Millersburg, the sun had been up for hours. Jonas directed Levi to park the wagon near the courthouse away from the draft office where people were already beginning to gather.

  “It’s almost nine o’clock,” Jonas said, checking the time on the courthouse tower. “Let’s find a spot to wait.”

  He led the way to the boardwalk and stopped in front of a lawyer’s office. Across the street was a storefront with a hand-painted sign declaring it to be the draft office for Holmes County. The crowd in front was quiet, standing in groups of three or four, talking quietly.

  “It looks like we’re here in time,” Levi said. “And I don’t see any signs of trouble.”

  “That would be great. All they need to do is draw the names, then we’ll wait for them to print the list.”

  The clock on the courthouse struck nine, the long notes sounding over the crowd. Still, long minutes passed without any movement from the draft office.

  “When are you going to get started?” A man in the crowd had shouted, and others joined in.

  Levi backed against the wall of the lawyer’s office. “Are they getting violent already?”

  Jonas grinned at him. “They’re just being noisy. If violence breaks out, we’ll get out of here and come back later.”

  Just then, the door of the office opened, and four men emerged, two of them carrying a large wooden box between them. The box had legs and stood just below shoulder height. One of the men held up his hand for silence.

  “This is how we’re going to proceed. The name of every eligible man in the county has been written on a list and assigned a number. In this box are tokens with the numbers. After we draw the numbers, we will write down the names and townships of the men corresponding to that number.”

  “How many are you drawing today?” shouted a man standing near Levi.

  “The state has received enough new recruits since the draft was announced that the earlier numbers have been greatly reduced. Holmes County will need to supply three hundred men for our quota.”

  The process of drawing the numbers began, but the men from the draft office did their work in silence and the crowd waited. More people showed up, and the street was blocked. Still they waited. Finally, the numbers had all been drawn, and the list handed to a man standing nearby, who took it to the newspaper office.

  Levi watched his progress, just like every other person standing in the street. “I thought you said that building had burned.”

  “Only the front office,” Jonas said. “The press survived, and the paper is being sold.”

  Jonas and Levi found a place to sit on the edge of the boardwalk while they waited.

  “What will you do if your name is on the list?” Jonas asked.

  “I’ll pay the fee. I have no intention to be part of the army, and I’m thankful that the government has made this way for us.” He glanced at Jonas’s profile. “What about you? Have you thought what you would do?”

  “I might go ahead and join the army.”

  Levi let his shock at Jonas’s words subside before answering. “You want to fight?”

  “I want to do something to free the slaves. I don’t want to fight.” Jonas picked up a stone from between his feet and rolled it in his fingers. “I certainly don’t want to kill a man.” The stone dropped. “But I feel like I need to do something. Perhaps my presence in a battle can make a difference for good.”

  “How?”

  Jonas shook his head. “I don’t know. But it’s like something inside me says to go. I guess I’ll know if I’m supposed to or not if my name ends up on the list.”

  “Then you won’t volunteer if it isn’t?”

  “I told you, it isn’t something I want. But it’s something I would do if I was forced to.”

  Levi had no answer for that. Sometimes Jonas was like a brother, but other times it was as if they were complete strangers.

  Jonas shifted. “Will you do something for me, though?”

  “For sure I will. Anything.”

  “If I do end up going to war . . .” Jonas leaned forward and picked up the stone again. “If I do, will you look after Katie for me? She’ll be fine with her family, but I think it would do her good to be able to have someone close to her who can check on her occasionally. See if she needs anything.”

  “I can do that.” Levi’s answer was automatic, but his thoughts raced. He would do anything for Jonas, but he would also do anything for Katie. If things happened the way Jonas described, he would be hard put to keep his feelings for her in check. But Jonas trusted him and he wouldn’t do anything to betray that trust.

  The sun had passed the meridian when the printer emerged with a stack of papers in his hand. Various bystanders reached for one, but he trotted across the street and delivered the stack to the draft officials. The crowd surged forward as they were handed out, and Jonas and Levi joined them.
When they finally got their copies, they made their way back to the wagon.

  Levi held his sheet in trembling hands. The type was small, and the names were divided by township. Levi found German Township, and scanned the names. He sat on the edge of the watering trough when he realized his name wasn’t there, wiping the drops of sweat from his forehead.

  “This can’t be,” Jonas said. He peered at the list, reading it over again.

  “What is it? Did you find your name?”

  Jonas sat next to him at the edge of the trough. “Not mine, but my brother’s. Samuel’s name is on the list.”

  The sun soared in the afternoon sky, leaning toward the southern horizon on this early October day. Abraham placed the last stalks on the shock of corn and let his gaze drift up the road, to the rise where Jonas would appear on his way home from Millersburg.

  Last week, when he went to purchase hardware for his house, Jonas had been delayed, and he had arrived home with Katie after dark. But this trip should take no longer than the time it took for a horse to travel the twelve miles there and then return. On top of that, he had gone with Levi Beiler. Levi had a steady head on his shoulders and would keep Jonas’s mind where it needed to be, which was on getting the news from the draft office and bringing it home.

  Samuel finished his shock of corn two rows over and took a moment to look in the same direction.

  “Waiting for news is the longest wait there is.” Abraham lifted his hat, letting the cool breeze through his hair before setting it in place again. “Are you anxious to see who is on the draft list?”

  Samuel shook his head. “Not anxious. The Good Lord is in control of which names are drawn. But still, I wonder what impact it will have on our community.”

  “You know we’ve been raising funds to pay the fees for any man on the list.”

  “But will it be enough? I heard that enough had been donated for thirty men, but what if there are more names than we have the money for?”

  “What if only a dozen names are chosen? If so, then we can share with any neighboring congregation that needs it.” Abraham glanced at his oldest son’s face again. “But you say you’re not anxious.”

  Samuel shrugged. “I suppose I am.”

  “You’ve decided what you will do if your name is drawn?”

  “I don’t want to pay the fee, and I don’t want to fight.” Samuel stooped to gather stalks to start building his next shock. “And I certainly don’t want to hire a substitute. I’ve been thinking about what Simeon Keck said, how the substitute would be acting in my place. I don’t want to feel guilty of murder every time that man killed another soldier.”

  “So you would end up in the army?” Abraham stepped closer to Samuel, letting a handful of cornstalks fall to the ground. “You would go to war?”

  Samuel’s mouth pressed into a hard line above his beard. “I would go to Canada, if it wasn’t against the law.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I just keep praying that my name won’t be on that list.”

  Abraham stroked his beard. Samuel was frightened, and he didn’t blame him. If he wasn’t too old for his name to be included in the draft, he would feel the same way. But what decision would he make?

  “What about Jonas?” Abraham asked as he started building his next shock. “What will your brother do if his name is called?”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t spoken to me about it.”

  “He hasn’t talked to me, either, except that I know he supports the abolitionists.”

  “Jonas is an impetuous boy and likely to join the army just to be able to free the slaves.” Samuel laid the last cornstalks on the top of his shock to protect it from rain. “Or for the adventure.”

  “But he isn’t a boy any longer.” Abraham stopped his work, looking toward the north again. “He’s a man with thoughts of his own.”

  “And you’re thinking his thoughts may lead him away from us?”

  Abraham tied a bundle of stalks and leaned them against two others. “I wish he had already joined the church. Then that commitment would keep him where he needs to be.”

  “You mean at home, and safe.”

  “I mean not being trained to shoot at another man.” Abraham finished his shock and moved on to the next one. “His life is precious to me, but his eternal soul is what hangs in the balance.”

  They worked in silence until they got to the end of the row, Abraham praying the entire time. His sons, his sons-in-law, his neighbors, the other men in the church. They were all at the mercy of a government bent on war.

  Abraham shook his head at himself as he reached the last shock. They were not at the mercy of the government. They were at the mercy of their loving Lord and Savior. There was no reason to worry.

  “There he is.”

  Up on the rise, where the road passed Reuben and Elizabeth’s place, Jonas appeared. He was walking. Levi must have let him off at the fork in the road.

  Abraham finished his shock and joined Samuel. They walked to the stone bridge and met Jonas. The young man walked slowly, a paper in his hand.

  “You were successful?” Abraham asked, watching his son. Jonas’s shoulders slumped, and the closer he got, the slower he walked.

  He stopped in the middle of the bridge and held the paper out to Abraham. “Twenty-two Amish men from Holmes County are on the list, six from our district.”

  Abraham unfolded the page, scanning the list. Names he knew. Men he had watched grow from young boys. Fathers, husbands, sons . . .

  “Samuel?” Abraham nearly dropped the paper at the shock of seeing Samuel’s name on the list.

  “What?” Samuel reached for the paper. “What did you see?”

  Abraham knew when Samuel saw his own name. His son’s face grew pale and he staggered to the side of the bridge. He sat on the stone wall, crumpling the page in his hands.

  “I never thought it would be there,” Samuel whispered. “I never thought . . .” He looked at Abraham, the reality of what that list meant growing by the minute. His eyes grew wide. “Datt, what am I going to do?”

  The answer was clear in Abraham’s mind. “We will pay the fee.”

  “But I said I wouldn’t. I said it at the meeting, in front of the entire church.”

  “No one will blame you for changing your mind.”

  Samuel stood and looked from Abraham to Jonas, then back. “But I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “If you go to join the army, you’ll face the discipline of the church. You risk being shunned.”

  “I know.” With a shaking hand, he handed the paper back to Jonas. “I know.”

  “Come to the house,” Abraham said. He felt weak and helpless. “Come to the house and we’ll talk about this.”

  Samuel shook his head. “I need to go home. I need to tell Anna before she hears from anyone else.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Jonas held out a hand, as if he would support his brother.

  “I must do this alone.”

  Jonas stood beside Abraham as they watched Samuel trudge across the road and up the lane to his own house. Jonas was silent, kicking at the gravel on the bridge with the toe of his shoe.

  “How are things in Millersburg?” Abraham asked. He put an arm around Jonas’s broad shoulders and turned him toward the house.

  “There was a riot of sorts outside the draft office, just before they pulled the names. Some were saying that they should have waited until after the election to have the draft.”

  “An election?” The election Bishop Lemuel had urged his church to vote in.

  Jonas nodded. “For the state legislature. The election is a week from Tuesday, in eleven days.”

  “What difference would that make?”

  “The Democrats think that most of the names pulled in the draft would be from their party, and then they would be off to war and not able to vote in the election.”

  “The drafted men are to leave home so quickly?”

  Jonas nodded, stopping
as they reached the porch step. Abraham looked for Lydia, not wanting her to overhear the talk of what happened, but she was in the kitchen with the door closed.

  “Samuel is supposed to report to the draft office in Millersburg on Wednesday. In five days. From there, they will go to Camp Mansfield for training.”

  The strength that had been draining from his knees gave out completely, and Abraham sank to the porch step. Five days? That wasn’t enough time for the drafted men to get their farms or businesses in order, and barely enough time for the church to pay the fees. Or if a man wanted to hire a substitute, would five days give him enough time to do that?

  Jonas sat beside him. “Do you think Samuel will really join the army?”

  “I don’t know.” Abraham took off his hat and buried his hand in his hair. If only this hadn’t happened. If only another name had been chosen. He had prayed for protection, but where was that protection now?

  Datt told Mamm about Samuel’s name being on the draft list as soon as they entered the house. She had sunk down onto one of the kitchen chairs, her hands shaking. As Datt sat beside her, holding her, Jonas slipped back out the door, stopping only long enough to pick up his hunting rifle. He needed time alone. Time to think.

  All the way home from Millersburg, he had considered what this news would mean to the family. Levi had been in a cheerful mood, and he could afford to be. Jonas strode toward the clearing in the woods, remembering how his friend had tried to keep his face sober. But Levi couldn’t hide his relief that his name hadn’t been chosen by the draft committee. The war hadn’t touched the Beiler family.

  It had reached into the Weaver family, though, and plucked Samuel, as if a hand had picked him from a grapevine. Samuel, who was a husband and a father. He had children at home, a farm to manage, parents who depended on him. He was a member of the church. Samuel, who had reacted to the news with shock and fear. Why did his name have to appear on that list?

  Jonas reached the clearing. The sight of his house, the two finished walls standing silent against the background of red, orange, and yellow leaves, failed to bring the satisfaction it normally did. Today, they seemed to be the remnant of a dream.