ran my fingers up the sides of her ribs.
“Your hands are cold,” she said.
I didn’t look at her face, but continued. It was bittersweet that the first time I touched her body was for medical reasons.
And that I found what I knew I had to find.
My lovely Rebecca had breast cancer. Maybe if she were more aware of her body, she would have been worried sooner. But even then, what could I have done on this world that permitted her the freedom to die in agony? It was advanced, metastasizing no doubt, spreading throughout her entire body.
When I stood up David Yoder caught my eye and nodded me out the door. We walked down through the kitchen to his porch.
“You know what’s wrong,” he said. It was not a question.
I nodded.
“Well?” he demanded.
“She has cancer.”
I sat on the bench, leaned my head against the rough plank wall, and blinked. My eyes were a bit wet.
David didn’t say anything after that. He stood near me on the porch for a while, then went into the house. Ben came out.
“Dad says to use one of our horses. I’ll take you out to the barn.”
I didn’t reply. Ben sat next to me and clapped my shoulders.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “God will protect her.”
I looked the boy straight in the eye. Was he really that naive?
I woke up numb. The alarm clock rang until I slapped the switch down, my motions every bit as mechanical as the clock’s.
The bed creaked as I sat on its edge. Two days’ worth of half-open books lay all around me, some of them buried in my covers.
Candle wax dripped over the edges of a plate on my bed stand, the translucent stalactites almost reaching to the floor. I picked the nearest book up. The margin had a scribble in
“Brother Hostetler?” came the strong shout of David Yoder from my front door. “Are you awake?
“Yes.”
I stood up and pulled on my clothes, tying my rope belt off in a quick knot. A faceful of cold water dashed away my morning fuzziness. David’s buggy waited outside, the horse looking as impatient as David was to get going.
Raisings were probably the most popular depiction of the culture among outsiders. Maybe it was just that it was a very attractive picture of community, and that was something they had in abundance. Many hands make light work, and there were many hands here at the edge of Yoder’s property. Tables held food, lines of breads, preserves, and fruit juices. Soups simmered in iron pots. Women chatted and kids ran around, dodging around legs, tables, chairs, and whatever else served as a convenient obstacle course.
And the men gathered around the foundation of what would become Ben’s home. We set to building his house together. It was more than just a community event, but a gift. When we were done Ben would have a home. A beginning.
We toiled together under the sun, hammering joints, then pulling walls up with ropes. Time passed quickly. The frame was up at lunch, and we broke to eat. Then we continued. At some point in mid-evening I stepped back, sweaty and out of breath, and looked up at a complete house.
They could have ordered a pre-fab, of course. It would have gone up faster and lasted longer. No law against it. But…
At the meal, when all the men sat in rows at the tables and ate, I walked over to David Yoder’s house. Rebecca sat on the back stairs, looking out over the fields at the gathering. She had her skirt tucked
neatly under her legs.
I sat next to her. We could just see the picnic tables over the rows of wheat shifting with the changing directions of little wind gusts.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Much better,” she said.
“Why aren’t you out there, then?”
“Father told me to stay here, and rest myself.”
I reached over and held her hand. She looked down at it.
“When you touched me…” she began. She caressed my hand. “I liked that.” Suddenly she blushed and looked away.
We sat there silently for a long time, watching the stalks of wheat dance, running our fingers each over the other’s.
“Are you frightened?” I asked at last.
“I was mad,” Rebecca said. “Now I’m scared. I’ve done everything right. I go to church. I respect my parents. I do my best to be kind to all. Why is God punishing me?” She squeezed my hand, and pulled it to her cheek. “I don’t want to die.”
“You don’t have to.”
Rebecca looked up at me, curious, hope in her eyes.
“You know a cure?”
“There are many cures, though I have never been permitted to apply them here,” I answered. “If we leave, we can go to the spaceport. You heard the Englishers’ ship land. They haven’t left yet. They will study the area for a bit, look around to make sure the spaceport is okay, and then leave again. They can take us to a hospital. We can easily cure you there.”
Rebecca grabbed my forearm.
“But would they take us up with them?”
“Yes.” One of the reasons they kept the spaceport cleared, and a regular schedule, was for reasons like this. A small percentage of the inhabitants changed their mind and took the subtle offer.
Rebecca leaned against me. “My parents will not approve.”
“They can’t stop you,” I said. “This is your life we’re talking about.” I kissed her hair. It smelled of fresh bread and pumpkin pie. “Come with me.”
She stood up, letting go of my hand. “The hospital,” she said. “Can they… really…?”
“Yes. Don’t pack anything,” I told her. “Just be ready.”
“Tonight?”
I looked back down the road we would have to take to get to DY-99. “Later tonight.”
Rebecca walked back into the house. I saw her falter for a second, and she held on to the edge of a table for support. I winced.
I approached David. I felt wrong for deceiving him slightly as I asked him about a good deal for one of his horses.
He smiled and stroked his beard.
“We wondered how many more days it would take before you got tired of asking for rides,” he said. He named a price and I agreed on the spot. I could have dickered a little, but I wanted to go home as soon as I could.
We walked to the stables, and David led my new horse out. He was a sturdy young fellow. I chose not to pay too much attention, though, as I would be leaving him behind soon enough.
“
“Yes,” I said. “I could have saved him.”
“All the good health in the world would be useless with an empty life, or in a community that had rotted
