Grounded

Epilogue

Epilogue

One month later, when the fields are harvested and the late fall chill has blessed us with an abundance of fat geese, I kneel down in front of my father, Jeremiah, and Korwin, as well as the rest of the Ordnung, and remove my kapp. The bishop pours water over my head. It runs in cool trails down my face and neck. He says some words about commitment and forgiveness. My soul feels buoyant, a feather in the wind. The light that streams through the Kauffmans' windows is just for me, a sunny celebration of my baptism.

Korwin takes it all in, although I'm not sure he understands the nuances of the ceremony. He's learning our ways and studying our language. If all goes well, he'll become one of us in a few months. The Lapps took him in and we've officially begun courting.

Jeremiah has already been baptized. He says he's happy for Korwin and me, but I see the way he looks at me, how his mouth changes when he thinks I'm not paying attention. Although I still consider him a good friend, he hasn't been the same since we left on rumspringa. The boy who was always smiling now carries a permanent darkness. We don't leap off the haymow like we used to.

My father has made a complete recovery, although he's a bit slower at things than he used to be. Lucky for us, Korwin has decided he wants to farm and has taken up helping my father with his work. If everything goes as planned, we will be married, he'll move into the house, and we can care for my father into his old age.

Korwin and I take long walks and talk about how we met. Every once in a while, when we kiss, the power returns and we have to wind it in tightly and tie it off inside our heads so that we don't set anything on fire. We've become very good at controlling it and are sure it's safe for us to be married. I joke sometimes that we should line our marriage bed with stones or bricks, just in case.

But secretly, I'm happy the power hasn't left us, even though we've left the power. The Green Republic could change the rules. They could come knocking and try to transform Hemlock Hollow, try to force us into their world. It's good to know that if that happens, Korwin and I are ready. We don't want to hurt anyone, but, if we have to, we will.

Sometimes I sit in my tree and think about my mother and about the Alpha Eight. She and my father gave up having a normal life for love of their country and then died resisting the corruption of the same. I wonder what they would think of me here in Hemlock Hollow. I'm not ready to give my life for any of the Englishers. Let the rebellion die for the rebellion. I am one life, only interested in protecting the ones I love and the freedom I choose.

I think about Natasha and David. What has become of them? Will they find a way to get the serum they require to stay alive? I'm fairly sure they are either free or dead. If not, the Green Republic would have used David against us. He was a prisoner there as much as I was.

All Korwin and I want is to build a life here, far away from wars and politics. He'll be baptized, and then we'll be married and have children. I hope all of them have his hazel eyes. Maybe our kids will have the power we have. Maybe not. Either way, we'll teach them how to be good, God-fearing people.

* * * * *

"You able to chat for a bit?" Mary asks. She takes a seat next to me on my front porch, just finished with her milking. I've finished first, as always, and am having a rest before I make breakfast. Korwin and my father are cleaning the barn.

"Yeah, what's on your mind?"

"There's a rumor going 'round that while you were on rumspringa, you had some kind of demon in you. People say that's why you aren't marrying Jeremiah like you should."

"Who would say such a thing? No one knows better whom I should marry than me. Jeremiah and I were never courting."

"I love you, Lydia, but those are not modest words. It was a bold thing to come back here with an Englisher. You must've known people would talk."

All I can do is shrug. The sun breaks the horizon, a great ball of fire in the sky. For a moment, I wonder what would have happened if I'd never left Hemlock Hollow. I probably would have lived up to everyone's expectations and been perfectly happy to marry Jeremiah. Maybe I would never know what I really am. But I did go and I changed. I can make myself become modest again, but my life will never be simple. The mere thought of "simple" makes me laugh.

"What's so funny?" Mary asks.

"Nothing." I give her a warm smile. "I'm baptized now, and nothing about rumspringa matters. But I love Korwin. You'll see. He'll be baptized too and become one of us. You'll wonder what we ever did without him. And I don't have a demon in me. I'm the same me as always."

"Glad to hear it," she says. "I knew it was just talk anyway."

The sun warms my face. I smooth my apron and tuck a stray hair under my kapp.

"Well, time to make breakfast," I say.

Mary hugs me before heading for home.

I move indoors to the kitchen, and pull the dough from its rising spot. On a dusting of flour, I knead it on the counter before rolling it out for biscuits. Here, with dough between my fingers and the log fire I started earlier burning in the hearth, the English world seems a million miles away.

I am plain. I am modest. I am grounded. And, for now, I'm happy to be home.

Flames lick from between my fingers. I yank my hands away. The dough's on fire! I snatch my glass of lemonade from the counter and douse the mounting blaze. The bread is ruined, singed and soaked. I dump the mess into the garbage, then check the window to make sure no one's watching. I'm alone. Mary's already left, and Dad's still in the field.

Hands shaking, I pull the flour from the pantry and start again.