Rebecca's Return by Jerry S. Eicher Page B

said Nancy Yoder, wife of Amman Yoder, had been to the doctor. That was on Wednesday, more than two weeks ago. The reason for the visit was a checkup because Nancy was having some doubts about the state of her health. Nancy’s worst fears were realized when the doctor found a few lumps. That Friday she received the results of the tests the doctor conducted—malignant breast cancer. Treatments at IU Simon Cancer Center in Indianapolis had already begun, according to Margaret. It also noted that Nancy might also seek more treatment in Mexico. This, Reuben thought, isn’t wise, but this too is not a church matter. He supposed if one had cancer, things might look a little different. Mexico was a land of great suspicions to him, but one never knew until it happened what really might need to be done.
    Out in the kitchen, it sounded as if Rachel was on the last of the dishes. What has gotten into the woman tonight? Why is she being so nice? There must be something going on, but what? Is it money maybe? Not that Rachel acted this way when she wanted some. Normally she just told him and made things miserable until he relented. The checking account was empty anyway, so it really didn’t matter. He sighed. Life would be a lot easier, at least with her, if there were more of the green stuff around. Not that he knew how to get more, but it would be easier.
    He couldn’t imagine what else she would want. But then the thought of Margaret mentioning Mexico came back to him. Is that what it is? Rachel has always wanted to go to Mexico, dropping hints about it every time someone went down there for treatments. Has she read the article already and wants to visit on pleasure?
    It could be well within the realm of possibilities. If it is that, she will soon be in and drop the hint. He stiffened in preparation. There was simply no way he was going. Not even if he was sick, would he go.
    Visions of donkeys balking in the streets, stopping to bray and kick at passing visitors from the States, went through his mind. No doubt white people would stir up the worst in them. Then there were the thieves and the awful food. Returning Amish visitors from medical trips told of thieves snatching purses off the arms of women, of men not even feeling their wallets being lifted from their front pants pockets. Amish men had no back pockets, so these guys must be the real experts. He shuddered in his recliner. Rachel would not be going, and neither would he. And those awful flat pieces of flour they ate!
    Even if Rachel got sick, she was not going. If she did go, it would be without him. The going would be simply beyond him—not to mention the cost. The thought occurred to him, Perhaps she is sick. Maybe that explains her behavior. But he soon put the thought aside. Sickness was highly unlikely.
    Luke had gone upstairs to his room after supper, and Reuben supposed he would soon find out what this was all about. The dishes rattled gently again in the kitchen. It sounded, from his long experience with her habits, that Rachel was down to the last few.
    True enough, Reuben had just turned to the next page of the paper, finding Leroy, Michigan, when Rachel came in and took a seat on the couch. He wasn’t that interested in the Amish community in Leroy, Michigan, anyway, so he braced himself.
    Rachel cleared her throat. “When’s next communion?”
    Reuben knew good and well Rachel knew when next communion was coming. It came in the spring around Easter, but he answered anyway, “Around Easter.” There was no sense in stirring things up, in case he was wrong.
    As she nodded, he noticed the bandage on her finger again. Earlier he had seen it but failed to mention anything. “You cut your finger?” he asked, trying to be friendly.
    “Yes,” she said.
    Normally she would have commented on his lack of notice till now…but tonight it was just, “Yes.” This only increased his nervousness. She really was after something, but there was no use imagining the