Amish Country Arson Read online

  “I feel so guilty,” Daniel said.

  “Live with it,” John declared.

  “We should not lie. God will not like it,” Daniel persisted.

  John thought a moment. “Daniel, what you did was not a lie. You teased Mama Hal, and she misunderstood. There is a difference.”

  Jim stopped hammering on a staple. “Keep what you did in mind the next time you want to play a trick on anyone.”

  “We did not plan on playing a trick on Mama Hal,” Noah declared.

  “Maybe she will understand if we explain,” Daniel said hopefully. “If she had only looked over the porch at the trap before she threw the sheet on it. She could have seen the trap was empty.”

  “I would not count on Hal seeing this your way. Not yet,” John warned.

  Jim added, “Maybe not ever.”

  Chapter 5

  Tuesday night was cloudy with a chance of rain. The raw air had a chilled dampness to it, but that didn't matter. This was the perfect night for a midnight ride if the rider didn't want to be seen. Mounting the work horse was hard with a sore leg. Staying on the hard stepping horse was even more difficult when the throbbing pain increased, but Rudy Briskey's farm wasn't far away. What did the pain matter? It was nothing to suffer pain compared to getting the task at hand completed.

  Rudy Briskey needs to be taught a lesson for giving Jonah Stolfus all that hay. How was my burning Jonah Stolfus's barn teaching the man a lesson if Rudy Briskey gives him hay for the winter? His charity encouraged other farmers to do the same.

  Rudy Briskey had a large cornfield on the south side his property. With the draft horse at a quiet walk, the rider moved past the Briskey home. The windows were dark as they should be that time of night.

  Just south of the house, was the cornfield. The driveway was at the northern end of the field which was good. Corn shocks loomed out of the darkness in no particular pattern but easy to get at. The gunny sack slung across the horse's back held small juice bottles filled with kerosene and a box of matches. All the supplies needed to teach Rudy Briskey a lesson he wouldn't soon forget. The rider stopped the horse by the first corn shock just inside the gate hole.

  I will sprinkle kerosene on the shock. It will not take much to ignite. The corn leaves are dry. I have to be careful how much kerosene I use. I do not want to run out before I finish what I started.

  At arm's length the kerosene drizzled down the dry stalks, filling the air with the scent of the fuel.

  I need to move the horse ahead before I throw the match in the fire so Jack will not get scared and run off.

  Scratching a match on the side the box made a raspy noise that seemed loud in the silence. A quick toss, and the flaming match lit in the shock. As the flame took hold and grew taller, the fire became brighter. The rider felt the heat and was satisfied the deed worked out well.

  Now to do the same to the next shock and the next.

  Soon a dozen shocks lit up with shooting flames against the dark sky, and dense gray smoke crept like fog across the field. The smoky surroundings with flaring flames turning the smoke red reminded the rider of the sun trying to burn off a thick ground fog.

  The fires make it too easy to be seen. Got to get out of here and go home by way of Bender Creek Timber. My leg hurts too much to stay on this horse much longer. Got to get home. Got to get in bed.

  The dark silhouette of the small wooden building known as the phone shed came into view at the intersection. The rider slowed the horse, debating whether to set the shed on fire.

  Nah, this time it will not matter. The field is burning so fast the damage will be done before the firetrucks can get here. I must not waste my time. I need to get home.

  When the sheep, goats, horses and cattle complained loud enough in unison, Rudy woke up, wondering what was wrong. His sheep and goats gave terrified bleats that mingled with the horses terrified screams and the cattle bellows.

  The dogs ran back and forth in the yard, barking ferociously. His first thought was coyotes or wild dogs were in his flock. He scrambled from the bed. As he picked up his rifle, Martha, asked, “What is going on out there?”

  From the doorway, Rudy said, “I do not know, but I am about to find out.”

  When he stepped out into the cool darkness, Rudy smelled smoke. That's when he saw the bottom half of the cornfield a blaze. The fire spread fast across the field eating up the dry grassy rows full of corn stubbles. While Rudy watched another row of shocks went up in a blaze. A brisk south breeze fanned the flames driving the fire closer to his house.

  Rudy hurried inside to put on his trousers and shoes so he could run to the phone shed down the road to call the fire department. “Martha, get dressed and keep an eye on the corn field. It is on fire.”

  “Ach, nah,” Martha cried as she hurriedly dressed.

  “I'm going to the phone shed to call the fire department. Our house and barn are in the path of the fire. Hitch up the buggy and be prepared to leave fast.”

  As Rudy ran to the phone shed, Martha ran to the barn. She bridled a horse and backed him up to the buggy. Once she had the harness in place, she drove away from the house. She stopped in the road to watch. She prayed for the fire to be put out before it reached her home.

  In a few minutes, Rudy emerged out of the smoke that surrounded the buggy, panting from his run to the phone and back. He climbed in beside Martha, squeezed her trembling hand and leaned back against the seat to wait.

  Soon the fire trucks raced to Amish country for the second time in a few days. Sirens blared and strobe lights whirled as they came to the aid of Rudy Briskey.

  Wednesday morning, Emma drove to the Lapp farm. When she turned into the driveway, Emma was glad to see Noah and Daniel had taken the time to put up their farmer's market stand. They already had some of the early items laid out. The gourds for bird houses and acorn squash along with the last of the summer squash. It wouldn't be long before the pumpkins would be orange enough to pick. A quart canning jar was on the counter to put money in, on the honor system, when they weren't home.

  As soon as Emma arrived, John said it was time to go. Once everyone was in the enclosed buggy, he set off at a brisk pace to the salebarn for the day.

  The buggy was almost to the black top intersection when they heard a loud thud under the buggy.

  “What was that I wonder?” John asked.

  Hal stuck her head out the open side window. “I don't see anything.”

  Daniel called from the back, “I do. We ran over a black cat. He's smashed in the road behind us.”

  “Oh dear, that is unlucky,” Aunt Tootie declared, holding her hands to her cheeks.

  “Why is that, Aendi?” Noah asked.

  “It is always unlucky to have a black cat cross your path,” Aunt Tootie told him.

  Nora shook her head disapprovingly. “Tootie, you shouldn't tell the children old superstitions.”

  “That is all recht, Nora. I believe Aendi Tootie is recht. It is unlucky,” John said, grinning over his shoulder at her.

  “You do, John?” It surprised Hal that he would say such a thing.

  “It sure is unlucky,” John agreed. “For the cat.”

  Jim slapped his leg and laughed. “You got that right.”

  Everyone but Aunt Tootie laughed.

  “That's not how the superstition is supposed to work,” Aunt Tootie said, pouting.

  “How does it work?” Noah asked.

  Tootie opened her mouth to respond.

  Nora grabbed her sister's arm and interrupted. “Never mind, Tootie. The children don't need to learn your old wives tales.”

  John drove the buggy across the salebarn parking lot to the far edge and parked next to the last buggy in line at the hitching posts. Sale day was one of those special days when the work at home was left behind. The whole family enjoyed some aspect of the sale. Maybe it was visiting with friends or checking out the current prices of livestock. The salebarn was a good place to buy replacement animals. For the wom
en and children, the small livestock sale was a must. Hal heard the sale referred to by one English woman as Old McDonald's farm sale.

  The Lapp family's interest was certainly varied that day. John and Jim wanted to watch the sheep and goat sale and the cattle sale. The boys left to hang out with their friends. The women wanted to go with Hal to look for a rooster.

  Before everyone scattered, Hal suggested the family meet at the Amish diner behind the ring at noon for lunch. John and Jim sit next to Amos Coblentz near the top of the wooden seats built to the bottom around the ring. The blue eyed widower was still on the school board with John. He nodded a greeting at John and Jim.

  John nodded back. “Nice day for a sale, ain't so?”

  “Jah,” Amos said.

  “What do you know?” John asked.

  Amos's face turned solemn. “Did you hear Rudy Briskey's cornfield caught on fire last night?”

  “Nah, I hate to hear that,” John replied.

  “That's kind of strange,” Jim said. “We didn't have any lightning last night.”

  John agreed. “You are recht, Jim. Makes me wonder how such a fire happened.”

  “Jah, me, too. I saw the field as I drove by to come here so I got curious and stopped in to ask about the fire,” Amos said. “Rudy lost most of his winter feed, before the fire trucks arrived. Gute thing he has a gute supply of hay in the barn.

  Rudy told me the firemen were sure the fire was deliberately set. With the wind from the south last night, the fire burned close to the house before the firemen put it out.”

  “Good thing the firemen got there as quick as they did,” Jim said.

  “Jah, gute that the animals made so much noise they woke Rudy Briskey up. His house could have burnt with him and Martha in it if he had slept too long,” Amos related.

  “Praise the Lord for Rudy and Martha's safety,” John said.

  Jim and Amos agreed at the same time. “Amen.”

  “As it was, smoke damage was bad inside the house,” Amos told them. “It will make work for his wife airing out everything and washing curtains and clothes.”

  Conversations ended as the auctioneer tested his microphone so the sheep and goat sale could begin.

  The small animal sale room was behind a door back of the main sale room. The room was bustling with as many people as the other room, but not farmers interested in livestock replacement or selling stock. Amish and English people crowded the room, looking for a bargain. Mostly women and children with more elderly men.

  Prospective buyers walked around the two lines of tables, checking out what was for sale. On one table were stacks of egg cartons full of red eggs. Next baked goods such as loaves of bread, dinner rolls, bumble berry pies, angel food cakes and oatmeal applesauce cookies. Right next to the bake goods were small boxes of late hatched chickens and ducks.

  The other table held starter plants and flower bulbs plus odd and ends usually found at yard sales.

  Around the sides of the sale arena, a row of collapsible wire pens held puppies, kittens, fresh born calves from dairy farms and fall born lambs and kid goats.

  At the end of the pens, plastic milk crates with wire covers and dog carriers contained rabbits, chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys.

  The calliope of noises filled the room from all the unhappy, imprisoned animals and fowl which mixed with human chatter and laughter. Emma heard roosters crow and directed Hal to the chicken cages first thing. Four roosters, each in a plastic milk crate, were at the end of the line.

  Hal put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my, so many choices. I don't know which rooster to bid on.”

  Emma leaned down to inspect each one. “We know the rooster should be young to have gute hatches. He should be fairly large. You will have nice sized fryers that way.”

  “The bigger the better size wise for the rooster that has to bluff out Tom Turkey I'm thinking,” Hal suggested.

  “That too,” Emma agreed.

  “I don't want a mean one that will attack me. I've seen the way Margaret Yoder's rooster comes at her when she gathers eggs. It's not funny,” Hal declared.

  “Agreed, but that is a hard trait to find out about when the roosters are penned in a small cage,” Emma told her. “Do you see one you like?”

  Hal looked at each of the roosters. She pointed to the one on the end. The black and red feathers on that rooster shimmered as he stood as tall as he could in cramped quarters. His long, flourishing tail swiped the crate side. “Him.”

  “Why?” Emma asked.

  “He is the prettiest,” Hal said.

  “After all I said, you are looking for the prettiest rooster?” Emma asked in disdain.

  Hal folded her arms over her chest. “Fine, I told you I'm not much good at this. You're the chicken expert in this family so you pick one for me. I'll be happy with which ever rooster you think is suitable.”

  Emma broke into a smile. “Actually, he is the one I like, too. My reasons were just a bit more practical than yours is all. Now we get a seat and wait. It is up to you to bid on him.”

  Hal looked flustered. “You bid for me please.”

  “Ach, nah, this is your rooster. About time you get used to bidding at an auction. Is Daed going to buy you that milk goat today?”

  Hal shook her head. “Nah, I haven't gotten up the nerve to talk to him about it yet. I wasn't sure what he'd think of the idea. It took your father some getting used to when I brought home the sheep.”

  Emma giggled. “I remember.”

  Hal's patience wore thin as she watched the sale drag on. It took forever for the auctioneer to get through the items on the table and start along the row of cages. Of course, he started on the opposite end from the poultry with the small animals and worked toward the chickens.

  When the auctioneer's helper held up the rooster Hal liked, she bid and rebid every time the auctioneer looked her way. Finally, he looked at her for one last time. “Sold to the woman in the third row. What is your number?”

  Hal held up the card she got from the office with the number fifty six on it.

  When the auctioneer moved on, Emma said, “Gute job, Hallie. You now have a new rooster.”

  “And a nice looking one at that,” Nora said, readjusting wiggling Redbird on her lap.

  “I think he's very pretty, dear,” Aunt Tootie agreed.

  “What a relief to get that over with. I didn't understand a word that auctioneer said. He talked too fast,” Hal declared, struggling to get Beth to sit still.

  The others laughed at her.

  “John's sure to ask me what the rooster cost. Did I bid too much?” Hal worried.

  “Not if you really want that rooster, dear,” Aunt Tootie said diplomatically.

  Hal frowned at her aunt and looked questioningly at her mother.

  Nora said innocently, “Don't ask me, Hallie. I don't know what's too much to give for a chicken.”

  Hal turned to Emma for her response.

  Emma answered honestly, “To be on the safe side, pray that Daed does not ask.”

  Hal didn't like the sound of that answer. She groaned.

  Noah and Daniel didn't have any trouble finding boys their age hanging around outside. The rumspringa crowd lingered near the lean-to sales booths along the outside the salebarn.

  Albert Jostle stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered toward Noah and Daniel, giving off a take me or leave me attitude. “Look who showed up will you, boys?”

  Following behind Albert, his brothers, Will and Sam was Mark Bender, Rueban Rogies and Matthew Stoll. They all greeted the boys.

  “Did you decided to come to the party Friday night on Bender Creek Road? Anyone is welcome. We could fix you both up with a girl if you want. You know the kind that don't mind taking a walk in the underbrush.” Albert gave an exaggerated wink.

  “We are not sure yet what we will do Friday night,” Noah said, blushing as he kicked a rock with the toe of his shoe. “Recht now Daniel and I are going to look in the concession s
tands to see what is for sale.”

  “Same old junk,” Matthew Stoll said as the boys walked along the stands with the Lapp brothers.

  One booth counter was piled with stacks of quilts of various sizes and designs, all in black, blue and purple colors. Another held bake goods like doughnuts, cookies and bread. The next one had small jars of jams, jellies, molasses and honey.

  Daniel said, “We can get any of these things at home for free.”

  Noah nodded and stopped at a stand that had battery operated calculators and radios on the counter beside different sizes and colors of flashlights. Next was a handy display of batteries to fit all the sale items.

  Rueban Rogies pointed to a small transistor radio with a little carry strap. “I bought one of these and the batteries about a month ago. It has AM and FM channels and comes with an earplug so no one but me can hear the radio play.”

  “Deacon Rogies lets you keep it?” Daniel asked in surprise.

  “He does not know I have it. The radio fit in my pocket until I got home. I keep it on a rafter in the hay loft.”

  “What do you listen to?” Noah asked.

  Rueban said, “Country western music and baseball games mostly.”

  Noah picked the radio up and looked it over. He was very tempted. He hesitated. His father wouldn't like him to own the radio. Still if Deacon Rogies hadn't found Rueban's yet, chances were he might be able to hide a radio on a rafter and get away with it. Noah reached into his trouser pocket for his money.

  Daniel grabbed his arm. “You should think about this. Buying that radio will get you in trouble with Daed sure enough.”

  “Not if we are the only two that know I have it,” Noah said.

  Daniel shrugged. “It is your money and maybe your hide.”

  Back home, Hal climbed out of the buggy. She reached up to take the rooster cage from Emma and place it on the ground. While Hal turned to help Aunt Tootie down, the rooster stretched his neck and crowed a hello greeting to the farm.

  Tom Turkey's long neck stretched in the air to look around. When he heard the crow of a stranger, he scattered the hens he was with as he raced to the crate. Tom lowered his head and peered through the square holes as he bristled his feathers. After he had a good look at the rooster, he straightened and backed up. He stared at the cage while he stomped a foot in warning. The turkey fanned his tail and gobbled a complaint as he circled the cage, causing the rooster to growl and peck the crate.