The Winnowing Season by Cindy Woodsmall

thing—making the situation for himself a lot worse.

TEN
    Samuel couldn’t believe what was happening. Every question led to shadowy hints that Rhoda embodied a kind of evil he couldn’t even grasp. What was wrong with these church leaders? And why were his own church leaders remaining silent? He understood his ministers needing to yield to and respect the authority of another bishop, but weren’t they going to intervene at all? Their reason for not speaking up couldn’t be the orderliness of this meeting. People were huddling their heads together and whispering throughout the public questioning.
    Urie picked up a pocket-size notebook from the table and opened it. “Let’s focus on the night your berry garden was destroyed. Do you believe that Rueben caused the destruction?”
    Rhoda hesitated, but finally Samuel heard a soft “Ya.”
    “You told people you thought it was Rueben?”
    She didn’t answer. Samuel started to stand, longing to defend her by describing that evening in vivid detail. Karl put his hand on Samuel’s shoulder and shook his head, so Samuel did as her father wanted.
    “Kumm, now, Rhoda. Did you tell people you thought it was Rueben?”
    She remained silent.
    Samuel leaned in toward Karl. “Why isn’t she answering?”
    “If she denies it, Urie has the letter you sent that will prove she told others. If she admits to telling others, she’s guilty of gossip, and they’ll use your letter as proof of it.”
    “Gossip?” That was a serious transgression, one often broken but rarely punished. “What’s the worst they’ll do?”
    “If she looks like a divisive member, she could be forced to stay until they feel she’s repented properly, and she’ll be shunned for a period of time.”
    “But …” What had he done?
    Karl searched Samuel’s eyes, and Samuel swallowed hard. He’d been so sure that alerting the leadership was the right thing to do. But Rueben was making a mockery of their nonresistant Amish ways, using bullying and violence just because he could get away with it.
    Who else was Rueben mistreating and getting away with it because his uncle was the bishop?
    “Well, we don’t need your answer. We have the letter from Samuel, so clearly you’ve been telling others. What makes you think Rueben is the one who went through your garden, pulling the bushes up by the roots?”
    Again she said nothing.
    “Were there horseshoe tracks in the garden?”
    “No.”
    “What then? Tire tracks?”
    “Ya.”
    “You think Rueben owns a vehicle no one knows about?”
    She shrugged.
    “So you didn’t see him. You have no proof it was him, but you told others it was Rueben?”
    Her silence had Samuel twisting his felt hat until it ripped. Were his bishop and his uncle ever going to speak up?
    “So why didn’t you tell your church authorities about the incident?” Urie waited. “Rhoda, you will find your tongue and answer me.”
    Samuel’s bishop raised his hand.
    Urie acknowledged David with a nod.
    “Perhaps I’m completely wrong,” he said politely, “and please forgive me if I am, but maybe if you allowed more than a yes or no, she’d be more willing to answer, and we’d be out of here before midnight.”
    A few people chuckled.
    Urie pursed his lips, not looking too pleased with the suggestion, but he nodded. “Very well. No one wants to be here any longer than necessary.” He looped his thumbs through his suspenders. “The question was, why didn’t you tell your church authorities about the incident?”
    Rhoda straightened. “I thought it best to keep the incident between those who saw the destruction that night. Samuel King was one of those people.”
    “So, by your own admission, you didn’t see Rueben do any of the damage, but you blamed him. And everyone in your family, as well as Samuel King, believed you? It seems you have a lot of influence over those who spend time with you.”
    Samuel sighed. What was that? Another hint that Rhoda was a witch, that she