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Pennsylvania
Beth Troyer stood at the screen door, shading her eyes. Noah Zook promised to pick her up if he could use his father's buggy. Behind her, her mother sat amongst her sewing circle. Stacks of remnant material stood in piles beside them. Her little sister, Muriel, selected a square and added it to the patterned quilt the group stitched.
Muriel was a good girl. Her tiny stitches ran in a perfect line, each piece fitting precisely as it should. Mama praised her for her steady workmanship. Beth, on the other hand, hated sewing. The thread bunched against the needle, and her squares never fit together. When she stitched, she felt like her head would explode.
"Come along, Beth," Mama called, raising her eyes from her work. "The quilt's a part of your trousseau. You should participate in making it."
"Must I, Mama?" Beth asked without looking back.
"Yes, you must," her mother answered. Mama spoke in a soft voice. She rarely uttered a negative word and never criticized. Nevertheless, she expected obedience.
"No, Mama," Beth answered. "It's my Rumspringa. If I don't wish to sew, certainly I don't have to."
Mary-Beth Troyer nodded silently. The quilting ladies bobbed their heads up and down in agreement. Except for Muriel, they had all experienced their own Rumspringa. Beginning at age sixteen, the Amish participated in their years of freedom. Usually lasting about two years, the youth used the time to decide if they wanted to join the church or separate from it. Beth was still determining what she wanted.
Beth looked down at her plain pink dress covered with a stark white pinafore. She would have liked a pretty flowered dress with a lacy color, but such clothes were forbidden. Day after day, she put on the same dress in a different plain color. She wore black stockings and thick-heeled black boots. Her soft auburn hair was hidden beneath a white cap. All the women looked exactly the same.
Upstairs, in the small room she shared with Muriel, she took off all her clothes and looked at her developing body. Beth was slim; she could span her waist with her hands. Unpinning her hair, she let it cascade down her back. Spinning on her heel, she let it fly out around her. Oh, the luxury of being free!
Beneath her mattress, Beth secreted a fashion magazine. She dreamed of owning a pair of jeans and a crop top. But she was born Amish, and such things were forbidden.
"I'm not quite Amish yet," Beth whispered to herself. She had not decided whether to join the church or not. That's what Rumspringa was for.
"What did you say, Beth?" her mother asked. "I didn't quite hear you."
"Oh, nothing really," Beth answered, not realizing she had spoken aloud.
"She said she wasn't quite Amish yet," Muriel said, stiffening Beth's spine.
"You were born Amish, my dear," Mama remarked, casting her eyes toward her sewing. "You shall remain Amish all your life."
"I haven't decided to join the church yet," Beth said, feeling trapped in the conversation. She wished Noah would show up so she could extricate herself from her inadvertent mess. "I might go to the city."
"Philadelphia or Pittsburgh?" her sister asked, digging Beth's hole deeper.
"Becca Hershberger asked me to go to New York City with her," Beth answered crispy. "Her brother, Jonah, lives up there. He's offered us a room in his flat."
No one in the community spoke about Jonah Hershberger. He had gone to NYC during his Rumspringa and never returned. Rumor came back that he had married English, separating him from the Amish community. Becca confirmed the truth to her school friends. She communicated with her brother frequently and planned to leave also.
Beth did not know if she would really leave herself. She never knew any other life than the one she lived in her small, close-knit community. However, she longed to experience something new. Becca talked about nightclubs and Broadway. Secretly, Becca wanted to become a dancer. She showed Beth pictures of ballerinas and whispered that she wished to take dancing lessons. Beth stared at the tight-fitting tutus and point shoes with fascination.
No, she couldn't go that far. All Beth wanted was a little taste of freedom. She might not like New York City and its fast ways, but she longed to say she had gone there, experienced life, and returned. Once she did that, she would come home and join the church. Or she might go somewhere else, get a job in an office or department store, and live quietly.
Beth opened the screen door and stepped onto the front porch. Craning her neck, she saw a black buggy in the distance. A single horse drew the buggy along the shoulder of the blacktopped road. Noah sat on the cushioned seat, holding the reigns tightly. As the buggy drew closer, a red pickup truck slowed beside it. A group of English boys leaned over the flatbed's sides. Even from the distance, Beth could hear them hooting at Noah.
Noah Zook stared straight ahead. He pretended not to hear the boys' taunting, but Beth knew he did. English boys often tormented the Amish as their buggies traveled along the road. Everyone tried not to pay attention, but it was difficult.
When Noah turned onto the Troyer property, the pickup sped off. Noah clucked to the horse and drew up beside the porch.
"That's the third time they approached me since I left home," Noah stated, leaping down and tying the horse to the porch rail. "Are you sure you want to go riding? We could take a walk instead."
"Let's walk," Beth suggested, opening the screen door. "I'll tell Mama where we're going." She disappeared inside momentarily, then rejoined Noah.
Side by side, the young people walked into the field. Papa pushed the plow across the field in the distance. Her brothers, Michael and Gabriel, worked nearby. Both had already experienced their Rumspringa and had joined the church. When they passed out of her father's sight, Noah reached out tentatively and took her hand. They weren't supposed to touch or kiss, but they did both in secret.
The couple entered a small clump of trees shading a spring. Sitting on a rock, Beth removed her shoes and, rolling up her stocking, poked them inside the boots. She lifted her skirt hem above the cool water and waded into the spring. Noah followed her. He placed his hands on her waist and kissed her smooth white neck. Tilting her head, she invited him to kiss her lips.
"You are beautiful, Beth," Noah whispered, his silky breath caressing her cheek. "I love you."
"I love you back," she mouthed, pressing her body against his.
They kissed and touched each other in secret places. The sensation thrilled Beth. She never allowed Noah to do more than she wanted, but she longed to further their relationship. Soon, she told herself—as soon as she built up enough confidence to allow him more latitude with her body. She finally pulled away and waded to the shore.
"Have you made up your mind yet?" Noah asked. He stood in the middle of the pond with his trouser legs rolled up to his knees.
"I'm going to tell Becca 'yes,' Noah," Beth stated, plucking a wildflower and twirling it in her fingers.
"So you're going to New York City," her boyfriend stated, his shoulder sagging in defeat.
"Yes, I think so," the young Amish girl responded. "If I don't go, I will never know."
"Promise me you will come back." Noah rushed toward the bank, splashing water in his hurry. He leaped onto the shore and grasped Beth by the shoulders. "I want to marry you."
"I can't make promises." She bowed her head, showing him the crown of her white cap.
"Watch yourself in the big city, Beth. Becca's a wild girl. There's no telling what kind of trouble she'll get into." Noah looked concerned.
"I know." Beth grasped his arms in reassurance. "I'll take care."
******
The big city loomed large as the girls exited Grand Central Station. Jonah promised to meet them, but he did not appear. Beth stepped onto the sidewalk with Becca, and a hurrying passerby jostled her shoulder. She stared at him, aghast by his bad manners. Then, someone else stepped around her, complaining loudly about causing an obstruction. Beth grabbed Becca's hand.
"You two walked straight past me," a young man exclaimed, rushing toward them.
Becca stared at the man momentarily, then flung herself into his arms. Beth didn't recognize Jonah either. He wore jeans and a ragged t-shirt with I Love New York on it. A large red heart represented the word 'love.' His untidy blonde hair surrounded his grinning face—a face covered by unshaven stubble. Grabbing their small knapsacks, he hailed a cab and ushered them into it.
Car horns tooted as the taxi entered traffic. A head popped out of a car window and screamed obscenities at them. The cab driver shrugged his shoulders and darted across lanes haphazardly. Beth and Becca collided with each other at each fast turn. Although the movement alarmed them at first, they were soon laughing merrily.
Jonah's flat was tiny, with a kitchenette in a part of the living room. There were two small bedrooms with a modern bathroom between them. The girls each took turns flushing the toilet. After using only an outhouse all their lives, the new convenience thrilled them.
"Is this your sister and her friend?" a dark-skinned woman asked, joining the group in the tiny hallway.
"Yes, Twyla," Jonah answered. "My sister, Rebecca Hershberger, and her companion, Beth Troyer. This is my wife."
Beth tried not to stare at the dark woman. She knew Jonah had married outside their religion, but Twyla's looks stunned her. She wore tight jeans and a blouse, and her stomach bulged between the gap in her clothing. Beth guessed she was about four months pregnant.
"It's nice to meet you," Becca said, extending her hand. Twyla grasped it, and Beth shyly muttered a hello.
"What would you like to do first?" Jonah asked. "New York is the city that never sleeps. You can stay out all night if it pleases you."
"We want to go clubbing," his sister stated, speaking for both girls. "Show us a good time, Jonah."
"You can't go dressed like that. We'll get you out of those Plain Jane clothes." Jonah opened the door, ushering the group out.
Twyla knew all the best places to shop in the garment district. Weighed down by multiple shopping bags, the girls grew excited about their selections. They rushed back to the flat and, closing the bedroom door, began trying on their new clothes. Jeans, tee shirts, leather jackets, and miniskirts piled up on the twin beds. Beth and Becca took turns looking at themselves in the mirror. Finally, they began experimenting with makeup.
"I wouldn't recognize either of us," Jonah remarked when the girls finally reappeared.
Beth felt as though her dreams had come true. She wore skinny jeans and a crop top with a glittery rose emblazoned on the front. Her long hair hung in a wave down her back and shadowed her face. Becca emerged in a mini-dress with a plunging neckline and a long string of beads. Black stiletto heels adorned her feet. She wore her hair in twin ponytails.
Loud music blared from every direction in the nightclubs. Strobe lights flashed on the dance floor, turning the club patrons into multi-colored blurs. Beth sat at the round table with a beer glass in front of her. She didn't like the taste of it, and it made her feel fuzzy. Jonah and Twyla danced close together, his hands cupping her behind. Becca twirled salaciously, occasionally clapping her hands above her head to the beat. Several young men tried to dance with her. After a while, she disappeared altogether. Beth craned her neck, looking for her friend.
"Dance with me." Suddenly, a man plunked down on the seat beside her. He hitched the chair closer until his knee touched hers. Grinning, he showed sparkling white teeth.
"No, thank you," Beth stated tersely. She averted her gaze.
"Come on." The newcomer grabbed her arm, tugging on her.
"I said no," Beth reiterated. "Please go away."
He began to urge her to join him again, but Becca reappeared suddenly. Her red-rimmed eyes met Beth's, and she began to cry. Rising, Beth put her arm around her friend and helped her sit down. The front of Becca's dress was torn, and an angry red blotch throbbed on her neck.
"I want to go home," the girl wailed, her face crumpling and falling apart.
"I'll find Jonah," Beth offered hurriedly. She stood and scanned the dance floor. "We'll get you out of here quickly."
"I want to go home home, Beth," Becca cried, grasping Beth's arm. "I want to go home to Mama."
"Yes, all right. I'll take you home." Beth felt instantly relieved. She did not want to stay in the cold, harsh city either. It was nothing like she expected. She quickly found Jonah on the dance floor and dragged him away.
He stared at his sister's distraught face. Wordlessly, they returned to the flat. Beth and Becca scrubbed their faces clean and put on their Amish dresses. Rolling their hair into tidy buns, they put on their white caps.
"Were you raped, Becca?" Beth finally found the courage to ask.
"No," her friend replied. "Well, nearly. I got away in time."
Gathering the belongings they arrived with, the girl returned to Grand Central Station. The train took them back to Pennsylvania. Together, they walked the long road from the local station to their farms. Rumspringa ended for both Beth and Becca. They joined the church the following Sunday.
"I'm glad you came home," Noah Zook exclaimed, taking Beth's hand. They waded into the spring. Facing each other, they kissed. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes, oh yes," Beth replied, encircling Noah's waist with her tiny hands. She pressed her face onto his chest and smiled.
It felt good to come home. Although her Rumspringa experience hadn't ended as expected, Beth believed she learned something from the incident. She belonged with Noah and intended to stay with him.
"I love you," Beth whispered, feeling Noah's arms tighten around her. He said he loved her back and buried his face in her long white neck. She was born Amish and would remain Amish for the rest of her life.
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