there in Texas?”
“What he told me, Mr. Bender, is he figured it might be a hard sell because, well, you know . . . it’s in Mexico.” He said this with raised eyebrows and a little shrug. Something in his eyes led Caleb to wonder if maybe there was something he wasn’t saying.
“Besides, everybody wants electric lights these days, and this place is out in the middle of nowhere in the mountains where, who knows, they might never get electricity. But Marlon Harris, being an enterprising young man, knew this wouldn’t be a concern for the Amish. Since he was heading to Canada anyway, and his train would be passing through Amish country, he figured it wouldn’t do any harm to put the word out.”
Fiedler’s explanation seemed sensible enough, but the land itself still sounded too good to be true.
“If the land is so gut, why would they sell it so cheap?”
Fiedler took a deep breath, blew it out through puffed cheeks. “That I honestly don’t know, friend, but I try not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe the owner is in some financial difficulty, who knows? But if it’s anywhere near as fine a parcel as Marlon Harris claims, then I’d say their loss is your gain.”
Caleb stood there thinking, holding the brochure open in his rough hands, studying it. There was even a crude map on the inside.
“What about schools?” he asked.
Fiedler scratched his head, winced. “I wouldn’t know much about that,” he said, “but I suspect they’re not going to be anywhere near as good as what we’ve got in the States. Our neighbors to the south are a little behind us in some ways. For all I know they may not even have a school system.”
“You don’t say.” A little smile relaxed Caleb’s face, studying the brochure.
“Oh, wait . . .” Avery Fiedler said, and the light of recognition came into his eyes. “I read about the problems between the Amish and the school system. It was in the papers. Some of your people were arrested, weren’t they?”
Caleb nodded. “I was one.”
“Ahhh. Now I see. So you’re wanting to know if there’s any chance you might run into the same problems in Mexico. To be honest, Mr. Bender, I don’t know what their laws are in that regard. But Marlon Harris can answer your questions a lot better than I can. If you’re seriously interested, I might be able to arrange a meeting next week. When his train comes back through I can probably hold him here if you want to talk to him.”
Caleb nodded firmly. “Yes. If you could do that, I would like it very much.”
Chapter 8
Caleb Bender stopped off at four different farms on his way home from Kidron that Thursday afternoon, showing them the brochure and spreading the news of his discovery. He could hardly contain his excitement. The prospect of good, rich, cheap land in Mexico, where the government would not force its schools on Amish children, kindled a fire in him.
He said nothing to his neighbors about the other reason for his excitement – his wife, Martha. Caleb tended to keep such thoughts private, for he had been taught from birth that whether one lived or died was entirely in the hands of Gott. But Caleb adored his wife. He was terrified of losing her and he thought, just maybe, the brochure was Gott’s way of telling him how to save her.
The meeting with the land agent from Texas was only a little more than a week away, but all he had to do was put out the word on Sunday and let the Amish grapevine do its work. The news spread like a prairie fire.
The following Saturday afternoon a line of buggies stretched down Caleb’s back lot well past the barn. Chairs and benches from every part of the house were packed into the living room, and there was a great scraping of wooden chairs as Amishmen filed in and found seats. Precisely at one o’clock, as promised, Avery Fiedler’s automobile pulled into the Benders’ driveway and the two real-estate agents made their way into the crowded house.
Marlon Harris was
“What he told me, Mr. Bender, is he figured it might be a hard sell because, well, you know . . . it’s in Mexico.” He said this with raised eyebrows and a little shrug. Something in his eyes led Caleb to wonder if maybe there was something he wasn’t saying.
“Besides, everybody wants electric lights these days, and this place is out in the middle of nowhere in the mountains where, who knows, they might never get electricity. But Marlon Harris, being an enterprising young man, knew this wouldn’t be a concern for the Amish. Since he was heading to Canada anyway, and his train would be passing through Amish country, he figured it wouldn’t do any harm to put the word out.”
Fiedler’s explanation seemed sensible enough, but the land itself still sounded too good to be true.
“If the land is so gut, why would they sell it so cheap?”
Fiedler took a deep breath, blew it out through puffed cheeks. “That I honestly don’t know, friend, but I try not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe the owner is in some financial difficulty, who knows? But if it’s anywhere near as fine a parcel as Marlon Harris claims, then I’d say their loss is your gain.”
Caleb stood there thinking, holding the brochure open in his rough hands, studying it. There was even a crude map on the inside.
“What about schools?” he asked.
Fiedler scratched his head, winced. “I wouldn’t know much about that,” he said, “but I suspect they’re not going to be anywhere near as good as what we’ve got in the States. Our neighbors to the south are a little behind us in some ways. For all I know they may not even have a school system.”
“You don’t say.” A little smile relaxed Caleb’s face, studying the brochure.
“Oh, wait . . .” Avery Fiedler said, and the light of recognition came into his eyes. “I read about the problems between the Amish and the school system. It was in the papers. Some of your people were arrested, weren’t they?”
Caleb nodded. “I was one.”
“Ahhh. Now I see. So you’re wanting to know if there’s any chance you might run into the same problems in Mexico. To be honest, Mr. Bender, I don’t know what their laws are in that regard. But Marlon Harris can answer your questions a lot better than I can. If you’re seriously interested, I might be able to arrange a meeting next week. When his train comes back through I can probably hold him here if you want to talk to him.”
Caleb nodded firmly. “Yes. If you could do that, I would like it very much.”
Chapter 8
Caleb Bender stopped off at four different farms on his way home from Kidron that Thursday afternoon, showing them the brochure and spreading the news of his discovery. He could hardly contain his excitement. The prospect of good, rich, cheap land in Mexico, where the government would not force its schools on Amish children, kindled a fire in him.
He said nothing to his neighbors about the other reason for his excitement – his wife, Martha. Caleb tended to keep such thoughts private, for he had been taught from birth that whether one lived or died was entirely in the hands of Gott. But Caleb adored his wife. He was terrified of losing her and he thought, just maybe, the brochure was Gott’s way of telling him how to save her.
The meeting with the land agent from Texas was only a little more than a week away, but all he had to do was put out the word on Sunday and let the Amish grapevine do its work. The news spread like a prairie fire.
The following Saturday afternoon a line of buggies stretched down Caleb’s back lot well past the barn. Chairs and benches from every part of the house were packed into the living room, and there was a great scraping of wooden chairs as Amishmen filed in and found seats. Precisely at one o’clock, as promised, Avery Fiedler’s automobile pulled into the Benders’ driveway and the two real-estate agents made their way into the crowded house.
Marlon Harris was
Similar Books
