There had been times when months would pass without the Elders deciding someone’s punishment, fate. Today’s trial sputtered in the center of town, in the church. Outside, giant barns dotted the landscape. Tall windmills whirled like Ferris wheels. Many draft horses were connected to black buggies that had been tethered, as if waiting for David’s judgment. Gaston had been allowed to attend, but wouldn’t be given a community castigation. “Why am I treated like a child,” he asked his father. In Amish society—at least northern Ohioan Amish--most penalties for breaking rules involved shunning or exiling. “Please don’t let David be exiled. Please don’t let David be exiled,” Gaston prayed aloud. I’ll run away if that happens, he thought.
He slumped in one of the ten chairs arranged in front of a square table. The elders congregated at the lectern, waiting for David. No women were allowed to attend. One elder wore a long wooly white beard, a gray shirt, and trousers held up by braces. “There’s David,” Gaston said to his father, not looking at Samuel. Gaston whispered to David as he passed, “It’ll be all right. I prayed for you.”
David pirouetted to face Gaston. “You’ve got to stop this. I’m going to take my punishment. Move on like a true Amish man.” He sounded doubtful.
“But what about us?”
David gripped Gaston by the shoulders, “There’s no ‘us’ Get that through your head, kid. Not anymore.” David’s face knitted together. His eyes seemed smaller. The vacant holes didn’t see him.
As the elders shuffled papers, they cleared their throats. One gestured where David could stand. Another flipped through pages of the Ordnung. Such elders modified it each year, and were doing so now.
The long beard tapped his copy and opened the trial. “Die Welt. The outside world must remain separate from us. It’s God’s will that you follow these orders.”
David said, “Yes, Elder.”
“Your parents are responsible for your training, to make you morally accountable to God. Yield yourself to Him.”
“Yes, I agree, Elder.”
Samuel bent over to Gaston. “As a twig is bent, so the tree is inclined. Proverbs.”
Gaston lowered his head, avoiding his father’s scowl.
The long beard said, “You’re right to say so, Samuel Bailer.”
“My son feels the say way. Right, Gaston?”
“I guess so.” He kept glancing at his feet. Bits of his fingernails dropped to the floorboards.
A different elder said, “David, your period of latitude ended the moment you’d decided to get baptized. You became a member of the church. You’ve disgraced your family, God and your duty to Him.”
“I’m sorry, Elder.”
“Have you searched for a wife? Your courtship should’ve begun?”
“He doesn’t need a wife.”
Samuel slapped Gaston’s face. Then immediately seized his shoulders, his face going white as February snow. “I’m sorry, son. But it had to be done.”
“You’ve never hit me before.” Gaston held his cheek. He felt the redness on his hand.
Without breaking eye contact with Mr. Bailer, David tightened his fists. “I’ve decided to court Mary Yoder. With permission of Jacob Yoder, I would like to drive Mary home today, after Mass.”
Jacob, in the crowd, nodded a yes.
The head elder murmured, “A wedding is one of the most important days in your life.”
“I agree. My rumm-shpringa has ended. No more running around.” David glared at Gaston.
The long beard tapped his fingers. “Seeing you’re still young and have made the decision to get baptized. You’ve joined the church, as well as to court. Your punishment will not be as severe.”
David’s father sat next to Samuel and Gaston. He continued his examination of Gaston. Gaston’s suffering persisted, as if he’d eaten rotten sour crab apples. Mr. Lapps scooted closer to Samuel. “I think it’s best you keep your son away from David.” And slid away, saying nothing more.
Gaston checked his father. Samuel patted his head and hugged him with one arm. “It’ll be fine, son. Trust God.”
“My days of trusting are over. I can’t live without seeing David. And Mary Yoder is a hog. No wonder Mr. Yoder’s allowing this. Have you seen her, Papa? Yuck.”
“You have no choice.”
“We make our own choices. You told me that.”
All ten elders stood; stock-still, as if made of stone. David wiped sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his white shirt. It smeared a long dark streak. The mark resembled a half a heart. A pungent stench of stale body odor, pork, horseshit, and aged denim flooded the room.
“David Lapps.”
“Yes, Elders.”
“You will be shunned for two weeks. You will not be permitted to eat with us. You will sit at the children’s table. No one in the community is allowed to speak to you, starting today. Immediately, after this sentence. You will not be permitted to court Mary Yoder until your shunning is over. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Elders.” David wiped his face with his shirt. In front of his eyes, the smudge turned into a narrow fish.
Gaston screamed, “You can’t do this. We’re singing tonight after Mass.”
“Samuel, control your son. You are responsible for his discipline and growth toward adulthood and to God. David can go to Mass and sing. He’ll not be noticed.”
Gaston reared away from his father. Samuel whispered to Gaston. “You’ve got to conform. These outbursts will not render you a position in the church or a courtship. Shunning is an incredible growth experience. David will be fine.”
“Just like you were fine? You were shunned for five years. I remember. You talked about it with Mother. I’m still ignored here. I know what shunning’s like too.”
“After your shunning, you will be back in good standing as a member of our community. You must understand your mistakes to return to the fold,” the gray beard continued.
“Why do they shun people? Do they hate us that much?” Gaston said.
Samuel said, “We shun out of love for the errant member. It gives him time to reflect on mistakes. It’s a good thing.”
“Can I talk to him? What if he runs away?”
“If David made a decision to leave the community he’d never see his parents or twelve other brothers and sisters again. He could never see his friends or speak to them again. That means you too.”
“What if he returned like you did?”
“It wouldn’t be easy, and the Ordnung changes twice a year. More than likely he’d be exiled. Wouldn’t be allowed to return.”
David shook the hands of the elders, then they turned their backs to him. Everyone in the audience did the same. Samuel gripped Gaston’s neck, making him squint as David passed them. “Let me see David.”
“Sorry, son. It’s for your own good.”
Gaston forced his eyes to meet David. Gaston mouthed, “I’m sorry. I love you.”
It is very interesting
ReplyDelete