Table of Contents
A PLUME BOOK
SEPARATE FROM THE WORLD
PAUL LOUIS GAUS lives with his wife, Madonna, in Wooster, Ohio, just a few miles north of Holmes County, where the worlds largest and most varied settlement of Amish and Mennonite people is found. His knowledge of the culture of the Plain People stems from more than thirty years of extensive exploration of the narrow blacktop roads and lesser gravel lanes of this pastoral community, which includes several dozen sects of Anabaptists living closely among the so-called English or Yankee non-Amish people of the county. Paul lectures widely about the Amish people he has met and about the lifestyles, culture, and religion of this remarkable community of Christian pacifists. He can be found online at: www.plgaus.com. He also maintains a Web presence with Mystery Writers of America: www.mysterywriters.org.
Dedicated to the memory of my friend Gary Gale. If height were governed by kindness and decency, he would have towered over us all.
Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord.
2 Corinthians 6:17
PREFACE
The characters in this story are fictional, and none is meant to be a representation in kind, part, or whole of any person, living or dead. The places are real, but they have been used fictitiously. Millersburg College in the Amish-Country Mysteries is fictional, though several people have assured me that they know right where it is.
Calmoutier (pronounced locally as Kal-Mooch) is as much a concept in the Amish mind as it is a place. It can be found on some maps, but it is not a city, a town, a burg, a hamlet, or even a crossroads. It is the indefinable area surrounding the old St. Genevieve Church erected by French Catholics in 1836. It lies on the north side of Holmes County Road 229, just east of the Mt. Hope Road and west of where it changes to Nisley Road, in Wayne County.
I have used this area for the story because it is so quintessentially Amish. The story takes place on two Amish farms on a stretch of straight, level road. Purists will note, however, that there is no stretch of 229 that is either straight or level.
Wednesday, April 18 5:15 A.M.
LITTLE ALBERT ERB, four years old and dressed Amish to match all the men of his congregation, tackled the steps to the back porch of his house one at a time in the dark, with his most serious frown in place. In his nostrils there lingered the confusion of an unfamiliar odor. Was that how the English smelled, he wondered? Never mind. There were more urgent things to worry about.
Albert stopped to catch his breath on the porch landing, pushed through the heavy back door, and pulled off his blue denim waistcoat in the mudroom. He hung his coat and round-brimmed black hat hastily beside the door, on one of the low hooks for children, and marched into the busy kitchen, thinking he needed to ask again about Mattie.
Why wasnt he allowed to play with her anymore? Something had changed. He wasnt sure what it was, exactly, but he wasnt supposed to see her anymore, and he didnt like that at all. And did they know about the woodshow he went there every day to play with her? Yesremember to ask about Mattie, he thought.
How could it be wrong to play? Was it the secret they kept that made it wrong? Is that why his father spoke so? Why he felt so ashamed? Alberts thoughts wandered to the woods where they met to play. Mattie always brought one of her puppies. They had fun. He stood in the kitchen, surrounded by family, and puzzled it through in his mind. Why did he have to be secret about playing with her? He knew he did, but why?
Then Albert remembered his uncle Benny, and his puzzlement about Mattie retreated from his thoughts. Uncle Benny was the more important problem right then. YesUncle Benny. Talk to die Memme about Benny.
At his mothers side, Albert gave a soft tug on her dress and looked up with innocent brown eyes, searching for her acknowledgment. When she turned to look down at him, he waited for her to speak, as any youngster should.
Yes, Albert? she said. You can see I am busy with breakfast.
Albert nodded gravely, swallowed his consternation, and said, Benny vill net schwertze.Benny wont talk.
His mother said, Were all busy with chores, Albert. Go wash your hands, now, and mind the stove.
Albert kept his gaze on her for a spell, and then shrugged and moved off to the low sink, skirting the wood stove. He was both perplexed about Benny and unhappy with his mother. She didnt have to remind him like that. Hed been burned once, when he was a baby, but he wasnt a baby anymore. He knew about baking biscuits for breakfast. So die Memme really didnt have to warn him about hot stoves. He should tell her that, he thought, but when he turned back to show her his pout face, he lost his grasp on his reasons for complaining.
At the sink, he put all of his little weight into pulling down and pushing up on the black iron pump handle, and he rinsed his hands in the cold well water. There, he thought, drying his hands on his pants. Good enough to pass die Memmes inspection.
Albert turned from the sink and went over to his Aunt Lydia at the long kitchen table. He popped up onto the chair beside her and watched her spoon butter into a bowl of fried potatoes.
When she glanced at him, he said, Benny kan net laufe.Benny cant walk.
Lydia chided, You know his legs are stiff, Albert, and got up to pour whole milk from a pail into the dozen glasses set out the night before.
Albert watched her work with the pail, thought about his problem, and decided to tell one of his older brothers. He found Daniel coming into the mudroom with another pail of milk, and he told him, Benny kan net tseine.Benny cant see.
Daniel nodded, swung past him with the pail, and didnt reply.
So, Albert took his coat and hat off the wall hook and went back outside. He saw a lantern glowing orange in the barn and decided to try to explain his alarm to the Big Daddy. Standing outside the milking stall, Albert called out, Benny is net u mova, Vater. Her liechusht stille.Benny is not moving, Father. He lies still.
For his troubles, all Albert got was, Albert, tell your sisters to get out here. This milks going to curdle in the pails.
So, young Albert Erb shrugged his little shoulders, crossed the gravel driveway, and took the sidewalk over to the familys grocery store. Going in at the back, he felt his way down a dark aisle between tall shelves, bent over beside his uncle Benny, and shook his shoulders. Then he pushed on Bennys chest, and nothing happened. Albert sighed, got up on his feet, left the store, and walked back to the big house as the sun streaked a faint line of rose over the horizon. There had been that English aroma again, he realized. He wondered what that meant.
When he took his place at the breakfast table, Albert said to his sister Ella, older than he by two years, Benny vil net schwetze.Benny wont talk.
Ella laughed and parroted, Benny vil net schwetze. Benny vil net schwetze.
With an indignant scowl, Albert stood on his chair and stomped his boots on the wooden seat. When his mother turned to reprimand him, he flapped his arms up and down at his sides and shouted,
