A Quilt for Jenna by Patrick E. Craig

I’d just like a soda,” said Reuben. “I’m not much of a drinker. As a matter of fact, this is my first time in a bar.”
    â€œYou certainly didn’t waste any time getting into the swing of things,” Bobby said. “By the way, what made you decide to defend the Amish folks?”
    â€œI am Amish,” said Reuben, taking a breath, “Well, sort of Amish, I guess you’d say.”
    â€œHow can you be ‘sort of Amish’?” Bobby asked. “It appears to me you either are or you aren’t.”
    â€œIt’s hard to explain, but right now I’m under the meidung —the Amish word for shunning. That means I have done things that violate the Amish way of life, and they’ve basically thrown me out until I change my ways.”
    â€œWhat did you do, if you don’t mind my asking?” Bobby asked.
    â€œIt’s not so much what I did, but what I won’t do,” Reuben replied. “I won’t get baptized and join the church, and I’m way older than most Amish young men are when they do that. And the truth is, I don’t really want to join the church. I want to see the world and find out some things on my own instead of taking the church’s word for everything. The Amish live under all these rules that have been passed down for generations, but they’re just rules to me, and a lot of them don’t make any sense. I can’t follow after something I don’t believe in. So I’m hoping to leave Apple Creek to go out and find out for myself.”
    â€œMy folks live in Apple Creek,” said Bobby. “How come I never saw you around?”
    â€œMy dad has a farm up here in Wooster,” Reuben replied. “But he married a widow in Apple Creek. She had a bigger place, so we moved there to work it.”
    â€œWell, if you want to leave, why don’t you just do it?” Bobby asked.
    â€œI have a little problem,” Reuben said with a slight smile.
    â€œAha! Woman troubles, eh?” Bobby said. “So you came in here to drown your sorrows, but you don’t drink. That’s funny! You want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
    Reuben looked at Bobby intently for a few minutes. “I’m not very good at talking about myself,” he said, “but if you have an hour or so, I’ll unburden myself. And if I’m going to really open up,” he said with a grin, “I guess I better have one of those beers after all.”

C HAPTER S IXTEEN
    Friends

    R EUBEN TOOK TO THAT FIRST BEER like a duck to water. Within an hour—and after three Pabst Blue Ribbons—Bobby knew all about Jerusha, how beautiful she was, how much she and Reuben loved each other, and the enormous obstacles in their way.
    Bobby listened, asking a few questions and occasionally offering a comment. Bobby did have some experience with the matter at hand, but he didn’t want to come off like a know-it-all. Bobby had married early—at seventeen—but it hadn’t worked out. His wife had wanted Bobby to take her to the big city. When Bobby wouldn’t, she found someone who would, and that was that.
    The experience made Bobby a good listener. The beer loosened Reuben’s tongue, and soon Bobby felt as if he’d known Reuben for a long time. He had a lot more facets to his personality than most of the Amish he’d met. He was smart and funny, but he could be serious and philosophical too, and after a short while Bobby decided that he liked Reuben a lot. As the evening wore on, Reuben told Bobby about his last meeting with Jerusha and how she had refused to go with him to Colorado.
    â€œYou’ve got a job out there,” Bobby said. “Why don’t you go alone?”
    â€œI can’t leave her,” said Reuben, hanging his head. “She’s got such a hold on me, but she won’t marry me unless I get baptized and become a member of the church, and I