The Hallowed Ones

visit. The thrill, instead, was making eyes at your neighbor without adult supervision.

Hannah rushed inside in a flurry of skirts. Her face was flushed, and I saw that her hair had begun to creep free of its pins. She sat down beside me, her fingers pressed to the smile on her lips.

“I saw that you and Sam were baptized today . . .” I began.

“We’re getting married,” she blurted, grabbing my hands.

I was struck speechless. I knew that this would happen too, but not so soon. Plain engagements required no rings. Engagements were kept very private, until a month or two before the actual wedding, when they were announced to the larger community.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” She glowed.

“I’m happy for you both,” I said sincerely. I hugged her.

“You will be my attendant, ja?” she asked, eyes shining. Plain weddings usually had only one or two, dressed like the bride in a new blue or violet dress made for the occasion.

I could not say no. Hannah was my dear friend. “Of course.”

I listened as she talked of being married before winter and building a house on her parent’s property in spring, after the ground thawed. I nodded as she clutched my hands and chattered excitedly.

It felt as if she was living a life I was meant to live and had rejected. The world was moving on, without me.

My breath snagged in my throat when I saw a familiar lanky frame leaning on crutches. Elijah. His crutches thumped awkwardly on the scarred wooden floor. He wobbled a bit at the threshold.

Our eyes locked. He stared at me, startled, taking in my transformed appearance. I felt a sting of satisfaction at that. A grin spread across his face. I remembered that look. He seemed like the old Elijah then. Maybe things hadn’t changed that much.

I made to rise to greet him.

But then I saw that he wasn’t alone. Ruth was beside him, clucking over him and taking his crutches as he settled down on a bench in the first row.

Perhaps her solicitude was because she missed Joseph.

But if she missed Joseph as much as her tears had shown at church this morning, she had no business being at the Singing, a small voice in my head growled.

I sat back down, nodding stiffly at Elijah.

He nodded back, but his eyes didn’t move from my face.

The rustle of paper sounded in the schoolhouse like the flapping of bird wings. The youths brought their prayer books to their laps and turned to the page that one of the girls was marking on the blackboard. I primly flipped to the correct page and began to sing when the others started.

We sang without any musical accompaniment, without harmonizing. Our music does not sound like Outside music. We’re told that it has something of a singsong quality to Outside ears, that the Hochdeutsch is impossible to understand. But it is beautiful to experience. Everyone singing the same song at the same time—you can feel the vibration in your throat and in the air. It’s like being part of something much larger, part of a perfectly tuned whole. The song buzzes through your lungs, through you and the person next to you. It is the closest I’ve ever felt to God speaking to me or moving within me.

I was facing west, with the sun in my eyes. As it sank lower and lower on the horizon, the light grew more orange and luminous. I could see Elijah, his shadow driven before him, deep in the glare. As the peacefulness of the music settled into me, I wanted to believe that there was still some hope for us.

Ruth sat two rows ahead of me, twirling a tendril of blond hair around her finger. As she sang, I saw her lift her eyes to Elijah.

Perhaps she was too accustomed to male attention.

Perhaps he was encouraging her.

Perhaps she saw in Elijah what she missed in Joseph.

Whatever the reason, I wanted to see no more of it.

I slammed my Ausbund shut. Hannah turned to me, alarmed. But before she could ask me what was wrong, I stood up and strode briskly down the aisle and out through the open door, into the waning orange light. I could barely breathe as I fled down the steps, like something was stuck in my throat. I couldn’t tell what flavor it was; it tasted salty like tears, but it was sharp as broken glass.

“Katie!” a familiar voice called from the door.

I plunged into the tassels of golden grass as tall as my thigh, stirred by a wind that was picking up from the west.

“Katie, wait.”

I stopped, half turned, clutching the Ausbund to my chest. My skirt flapped around me like a boneless garment on a clothesline, and my bonnet strings streamed before me. I watched Elijah try to stump down the steps with his crutches. Ruth was not with him. I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand as he approached.

“What is it you want from me?” he asked when he reached me. My shadow fell on him, and I could see bewilderment in his eyes.

“Apparently you’re getting what you want from Ruth,” I said icily.

That stung him more than any slap. He actually flinched, looked me full in the face. “You’ve made it very clear that you won’t.”

“I never said that.”

“What do you want? You want me to get down on my knees and beg? I’ll do that, if it meant you’d say yes to me.” He loosened his grip on his crutches, moved to kneel on the grass.

I dropped my Ausbund, grabbed his shoulders to keep him from prostrating himself like that before me. “No . . . don’t . . .”

“Then, what is it?” There was hope and resentment and hurt in his eyes. “I’ve always loved you. I know that you love me. I don’t understand what else you need. What else are you looking for?”

“Time. Time is what I want.”

“We don’t have any more time!” He shouted at me over the wind that ripped through the grass, lashing against our legs with a sound like rain on a metal roof.

I cupped his face in my hands, kissed him as we’d kissed so many times before. I hoped to convince ourselves that I was still me, that he was still who he’d always been. But Elijah's lips were immobile under mine. I stepped back, seeing the smear of my lipstick on his mouth.

The light dimmed out of his eyes, like water draining from my hands. He touched my cheek with cold fingers.

“Makeup.”

“What?” I said incredulously. Whatever spell Ginger had woven didn’t seem to work on him.

“It’s a sign of vanity.” His voice was flat. “You should wash your face.”

I turned and fled from him. I ran as hard as I could, my fists pumping the air, wanting that burn to drive out the wet knot of grief in my lungs. I knew that he wouldn’t follow me. Even if he wasn’t hobbled on crutches, he would not pursue me. Not this time.

I’d lost him. I’d lost him forever.

Elijah had been a constant in my life, like the North Star. I couldn’t comprehend the sense of aloneness, that part of my sky gone dark. The world—not just the world Outside, but my world—was falling apart.

Chapter Fourteen

I ran until I couldn’t run anymore, until my hands fell to my knees and I gasped for air. I had reached the shadow of the kennel barn. I’d automatically come here when I was younger and was upset by some petty conflict at school or when I fought with my sister. It was my sanctuary. But not anymore. I’d even given my sanctuary away to the Outsider. I truly had nothing left.