Genesis: Two Worlds One Mission

EPILOGUE

CLAUS. M. LOHMAN

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GENESIS

TWO WORLDS. ONE MISSION.

C R I M E F I C T I O N

†

P R O P O R T I O N

Genesis – Two Worlds. One Mission.

Published by Forlaget Proportion

www.twoworldsonemission.com

www.forlagetproportion.dk

Smashwords edition.

Copyright © Claus M. Lohman and Forlaget Proportion.

English translation copyright © Claus M. Lohman, Cindy Freksen and Forlaget Proportion.

Claus M. Lohman has asserted his rights under the Copyright, designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by any way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent.

First published in Danish with the title Genstart by Forlaget Proportion 2013.

Translated by Cindy Freksen 2014.

Cover photo: Johan Swanepoel

Cover design: Tine L. Nielsen

ISBN: 978-87-996407-5-1 (p-book)

ISBN: 978-87-996407-6-8 (e-book, ePub)

ISBN: 978-87-996407-7-5 (e-book, PDF)

Printed in Denmark 2014

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living of dead or to actual events or locals is entirely coincidental.

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FOREWORD

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The main story in this book took form in my head over ten years ago. At that time it was never my plan to commit it to paper or e-book, but when I casually mentioned it to an associate a few years ago she thought the idea was so captivating that it deserved to be shared with others. Her continuing insistence finally convinced me and I therefore began to research the subjects touched on in the book.

The title of the Danish version of the book, Genstart, (translated to Restart) is today one of the only parts that hasn't changed since the first draft; and that too is changed to fit the English translation. The manuscript has been passed many critical eyes and is now in a version that I couldn't have improved upon.

In connection to the process I would like to take this opportunity to thank the many people that have been a part of the process. Family, friends, colleges and associates among these:

My father, Dennis Lohman

My sister, Tine Lohman

My brother-in-law, Anders Nielsen

My dear colleague and friend, Inge Jensen

The lady with the arguments, Lene Skov

My friends, Martin Kristersen, Per Hansen and Soeren Thisgaard.

Other colleagues and associates: Birgit Nielsen, Rikke Rosenvold, Tina Friis Poulsen, Morten Christiansen, Jette Steen, Bo Busk Hoffmann Schriver, Ole Steen Hansen, Rikke Borup and Cindy Freksen.

Claus M. Lohman. July 2014.

PART 1

1

David Stoltzfus put his rented 2001 Trailblazer Chevrolet in neutral and pulled on the handbrake. He switched off the SUV killing the hum from the engine.

The drumming headache from last night's excesses slowly faded and he got out of the car, which had several Hertz rental stickers on it.

He had had the SUV for around a month, even though he was 23 he had not driven a car before. He had passed his driver license just four weeks ago after an intensive two week theoretical and practical course with Jack Drummond, the local driving instructor in Lancaster.

David had quickly gotten use to the car, but the thrill of driving, which he had been looking forward to, was to his great disappointment already fading.

He stuffed the car keys into the pocket of his modern jeans; the first clothes that hadn't been handmade that he had worn, that he, so full of expectations, had bought in a clothes shop in the state capitol of Pennsylvania.

He thought that the pants were a little tight and he considered changing back into his usual lose sitting dark blue pants that his mother had sewn for him and that he felt so much more comfortable in. He adjusted his suspenders and tucked the muscle shirt into his pants. The armless shirt showed his biceps that were well athletically proportioned like the rest of his body, trained by all of the hard physical work at home on the farm.

He crossed the road stopping a few feet from the two-storey dorm building that was his temporary home close to the center of Philadelphia. The entrance was blocked off with crime scene tape and there was an ambulance and three police cars all with lights flashing.

Beside the cars two cops were talking to a young man, who David thought was called Chris, who resignedly shrugged his shoulders.

One of the cops was writing in his notebook whilst the other was giving the guy a piece of paper and apparently explaining a route or so it seemed to David as he was pointing down the street.

The guy nodded and clearly annoyed began to go in the direction that the officer had indicated.

David passed the ambulance and the cop cars approaching the two officers. Excuse me, but I live here! he said in a polite low voice pointing to the grey dorm building in front of him. His head ached still. What has happened in there?

One of the cops took a step forward placing himself between the tape and the entrance and David to indicate that he should stop. A young woman has been found dead in there! the cop answered expressionlessly.

David stared speechlessly at the cop. What did you say? he blurted chocked. He didn't know that many of the residents in the dorm personally as he had only lived there for about a month, but he had a rough idea of who the others were. He was therefore curious as to what was going on. Who is it?

The second cop also took a step over to David and calmly looked at him. It is nothing for you to worry about sir, he said quietly and more politely than his partner, but you say that you live in there?

David nodded. Yes I live there!, he answered keen to be allowed to enter.

The cop took out his notebook just as David had seen earlier. What is your name? he asked jotting it down when David answered.

The other cop took out a piece of paper and gave it to David. Unfortunately you have to go to the station to make a statement! he said pointing in the direction of the street. The station is just around that corner two blocks away, on the right. Here is a map with the route plotted on it!

David took the paper and looked at it. It was an aerial photo of the local area, the route to the police station was clearly marked. Can I change my clothes first?, he asked. His new jeans were annoying him.

The first cop put his arm in front of him. No, you need to go to the station right away!, he said in a cold uninterested voice.

David instinctively retreated a step. Okay, sorry!, he said politely as he stared unwillingly towards the station.

A low building allowed the afternoon sun's late summer beams reach him causing him to squint as the sharp light hit him. His freshly cut, blond hair seemed to shine in the sunlight.

He went to the corner indicated and turned at the high building which rose several stories blocking out the sunshine, throwing David in to the shadows. He looked down the street and could vaguely make out the police station a way down the street.

Normally he avoided the police and all other forms of authority, so it was not with the greatest enthusiasm that he trudged towards the station. He couldn't work out why he needed to make a statement to the police, but as he had been raised not to question he had little choice but to obey orders.

He walked slowly passing more skyscrapers, he went to great lengths to avoid bumping into the other pedestrians on the sidewalk and despite the short distance he was obliged to step aside giving way to stressed business people clutching attaché cases and other busy city dwellers at a more leisurely pace.

He was very impressed by the pulsating big city life, but it was no longer so alluring since he had had the past few weeks to experience it.

David stopped waiting patiently for a green light at a crossing to reach the police station on the other side of the busy street. He observed several other pedestrians who didn't have the same patience as him, they crossed despite the red signal causing several drivers to brake and honk their horns. This action often resulted in shouts and gesticulations from the pedestrian as if it was the driver who was breaking the law.

David was puzzled by the lack of respect people had for each other. He had learned to always be helpful and never to put himself first, but here in one of Americas big cities it seem that his upbringing was more the exception than the rule. He began to long for home, his church, which was essentially the point of his stay in Philadelphia.

The lights changed to green and David crossed the road to the police station that, despite its four stories was dwarfed by the surrounding tall buildings. He opened the door and entered the building. He stepped into a small room with a reception desk to the right and benches, an elevator and a passage to the left.

He approached the desk where a dark, extremely annoyed receptionist was ordering a seemingly drunk older man about. Sit down over there and wait with the others. She virtually shouted at the man and pointed towards the benches where there were about a dozen other people.

The older man hiccupped and staggered over to the benches leaving the receptionist free.

David went over to her and looked at her shyly. Excuse me miss!, he said courteously, I have been asked to come here in connection with the death at number 12 Pier Street!

The receptionist looked through him and took a bite of a muffin. What's your name? she asked chomping.

David Stolzfus, David answered, with a zee!

The receptionist cast a fleeting glance over him as if to say that she knew that, pressed a blue button and repeated his name into a microphone that was sitting in front of her mouth. She glanced at him again and finished his name sulkily "With a zee. She then pointed towards the rows of benches where the drunk had also been sent. Sit over there and wait to be called!"

David nodded politely. Thank you so much miss!, he said as he turned and walked over to the benches. He could see the man who he had seen talking to the cops in front of the dorms, the guy he thought was called Chris.

David walked slowly towards him and noticed that he was listening to another man. David sat in a vacant chair to their left and listened to their conversation.

I am not sure Chris, David heard the other man say, confirming that the guy he knew was called Chris, but Jimmy said that Mellissa found her on the bed. She had been raped and stabbed; there was blood all over the room. Mellissa almost fainted when she discovered poor Celine. People came running into the room when she started to scream. Jimmy was sitting in the common room when he heard Melissa scream, he was curious so he followed the sound that lead him to Celine's room; there were already several people gathered. He could tell that there was something terribly wrong and when he noticed the Bible verse on the wall, probably written in Celine's own blood, he nearly fainted too!

David closed his chocked eyes.

He knew the murdered woman.

Chris had in his excitement moved to the edge of the bench, and was now sitting with his head turned towards the other person, who was obviously telling him what he knew about the situation that had brought them all to the police station. What was the Bible verse? Chris inquired with eyes agog.

The other guy leaned back. Something from the New Testament about going away and being separate!, he explained. I have no idea what is means, but it is clearly some kind of nut job who had done this!

David, who had been listening to the explanation, was shaken that Celine, who he had spoken to many times at the dorm, apparently had ended her days in such a terrible, tragic way. He had been drinking with her last night. Just a few beers, but seeing as though he had never had alcohol before it was enough to make him black out, therefore he couldn't remember the whole evening.

A nagging feeling grew in him that made him forget his drumming headache for a while. He was convinced that he hadn't caused her death though.

He had so far no intention of getting involved in the two man's conversation, however when the stranger, who was unknown to David, mentioned the familiar quote upon which David and his whole creed based there way of living, he felt he was duty bound to butt in. Excuse me but the quote is from Corinthians two, chapter six verse 17!, he cautiously said, whilst hiding his horror at Celine's fate. It is quite rightly a verse from the New Testament, it reads: Wherefore come out from among them and be ye separate!

Both men turned their heads in amazement and stared at David who they hadn't noticed before now. They briefly looked at each other and the stranger rose threateningly. What the hell has that to do with us? he said with an unfriendly tone. Are you sitting there listening or what?

David looked down at the tiled floor frightened, he didn't see Chris gesticulating convincingly calming his irascible companion. Relax Mike!, he said, He's ok. He wouldn't hurt a fly!

The agitated person who Chris had called Mike sat back down on the bench. Chris gave him a hard, but friendly thump on the shoulder and he let out a surprised grunt.

Chris turned his attention to David, who was still staring at the floor. Don't take any notice of Mike!, he said kindly, It's just hot air. What is it that you are called?

David looked up slowly. David! he answered almost in a whisper so as not to provoke Chris' buddy.

Forget it David!, he said smiling, Mike won't do anything. Tell us what you know about that Bible verse we were talking about!

David coughed and looked uncertainly at the two men, who stared interestedly back.

At that moment a door in front of them flew open and a uniformed cop stood in the opening with a piece of paper in his hand. Mike Michaels, Bryan Patterson, Chris Tennant and David Stoltzfus!, he read. Follow me please!

David stood up with the two men.

A small guy, who was probably Bryan Patterson, passed them and stood beside the cop.

We will talk to you as a group first, then we will take you alone, finally we will take blood and tissue samples!, the cop explained. After that you are free to go. You are not here as suspects!

Great!, Mike Michaels said uninterested. Why the hell are we here anyway?

The cop ignored the snarky remark and waved the four young men in to the room.

David felt that the stupid remark made his toes curl.

He could never speak without respect to another person, neither an authority figure, his friends, family nor strangers.

2

The low sun's morning rays tried to penetrate the closed blinds in the apartment as Sarah Bermann woke with a start instantly sitting up. Sweat streamed down her face and she dried her drenched brow with a damp hand.

She was confused.

She grabbed her Smartphone, which was as usual placed on the white nightstand beside her bed, only to confirm that there was still a whole hour until she had to get up. She laid her head back on the soft eiderdowns pillow and, tucking her legs under her, closed her eyes.

She had been dreaming more and more recently, and they had been increasingly vivid. She was now dreaming almost every night.

Always the same dream. Always the same story. Always about a dark, indefinable creature roaring and grabbing at her while she tries to get away, but her legs are as stiff as nails and she can't escape. Behind her she can sense a blurry figure which is trying to get to her. A figure that is trying to get her away. A figure that is trying to get her to safety. But something is wrong. The figure can't reach her because the indefinable creature has put something between them and it lets out a deafening sound sending chills through her body.

Sarah turned over in bed a couple of times, but she already knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She didn't really want to because of her recurring dream, so she decided that she could just as well get up.

She stacked her feet out of bed and into the soft moccasins placed faithfully every evening on the floor beside her bed. She cast a glance over to the other side of the double bed, before rising and straightening the already neatly arranged duvet.

She wandered over to the window and opened the blinds allowing the sun's rays to light up the room. She squinted as the bedroom was flooded with the welcoming light.

After her eyes had taken a few minutes to adjust to the sea of light, she looked out at the big city which was already teaming with life.

She saw two boys playing with a ball in front of the narrow one-way street that fortunately only a few motorists chose to use and she could vaguely hear a helicopter buzzing around probably with eager tourists.

Her apartment was on the fifth floor of a ten storey residential complex consisting of 22 dwellings. Even though it was placed in one of the cities more exclusive areas, which naturally raised the rent, she had no doubts about its suitability when she was shown round the first time.

She pulled on the t-shirt that she had hung on the end of the bed last evening and stepped out into the hallway of her two-bedroom apartment.

On the wall in front of her was the only decoration in the hall. A huge maritime painting that she had received from her dad as a leaving home present. It was an image of a large schooner fighting its way through the foaming waves of the Atlantic Sea. Her dad had bought it on e-bay and he always stopped to admire it when he visited her. She could also spend time studding the painting, always trying to imaging the kind of life the people on board must have lived.

The hallway lead to all of the rooms in her home.

The walls and the ceiling were painted in a light color that gave off a warm slightly red glow. The color wasn't available at the paint store and she could clearly remember how she had experimented mixing the colors when her ex and her moved in, and how he had been annoyed by her artistic experiment. Although he was more than pleased with the result and had often commended her artistic abilities. He had also insisted that the color should bedeck the walls and ceiling in both the bathroom and kitchen, which she hadn't had any objection to.

She suddenly stopped and turned her attention to a closed door, debating whether should she open it.

She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door stepping into a small, half empty room with bare white walls.

She looked around.

Her laptop sat on the desk and in the corner there was a basket filled with dolls and teddy bears, most of which still had the price tags attached. She ran her fingers through her shoulder length blond hair in an attempt to cool her still damp forehead. She reluctantly walked over to the desk and picked up the laptop.

She hurried out of the room again, just managing to throw a fleeting glance at the basket.

She closed the door quickly and went into the kitchen placing the laptop on the black ultra modern dining table, which had been a 25th birthday present from her friends last year.

She had been really pleased with the present, but also a little annoyed, as she had told her friends at her party that they were mean as she now had to invest in the matching chairs. Her friends laughed and promised to buy chairs for her 30th, but she couldn't wait that long so she had tried her luck at a local flea market one Saturday morning to score a bargain.

That first visit had been followed by many more, but she had yet to find a set of chairs that went with the table, so she was forced to wait. She was however not prepared to compromise and she knew from experience that design was worth waiting for and was rarely found at local flea markets.

She filled a two-cup espresso pot and filled the funnel shaped filter with ground espresso coffee pressing it in carefully. She then put the pot on the gas hob and lit it. She filled a tall glass three quarters full with organic milk popped it in the microwave and turned the dial for two minutes.

She put two pieces of bread into the toaster, closed the lid and turned on the well used machine, which had often provided her with delicious, warm sandwiches that her father had also enjoyed.

Finally she turned on the oven and went back out into the hallway and on to the bathroom, where she sat down.

She put her head in her hands shaking it. One of her elbows hit the sink, she felt a dull pain. It wasn't the largest bathroom she had ever seen, but it had all of the necessary facilities. She was especially pleased that her dad had managed to squeeze a shower unit into the room so she no longer had to use a hose set on the faucets on the sink.

She heard the microwave beep, got up took a step to the sink and washed her hands.

She looked at herself in the antique mirror she had found at a flea market; a small consolation prize instead of the chairs that she had yet to find. She could still see a few droplets of sweat around her deep blue eyes, so she rubbed her face with her wet hands carefully removing the remaining droplets.

Returning to the kitchen she took jelly and butter out of the refrigerator spreading it on the newly toasted bread.

She whipped the microwave warm milk with a battery driven milk whisk and poured the newly brewed coffee into it.

The aroma had already filled the kitchen making her think about how much she enjoyed her café latte like she did every morning.

In the living room she sat down on the kaki colored couch that she had kept after her breakup just over a year ago. They had bought the couch together when the hot new designer furniture store, Global Furniture, had opened in Philadelphia, they had got it at a bargain price in the opening sale. Sarah had gone to the store early in the morning and stood in line and she had been lucky to get her hands on the last of the couches despite being the ninth person in line. She had since become so pleased with the couch that she couldn't imagine life without it, and when her ex was so keen to move out of the apartment he had no objection to let her keep it. She had tried to place it in several positions in the room, but had to unwillingly accept that its original placing was the best.

Above the couch hung a large framed picture with single stripes of color that Sarah thought fitted in with the white nuanced walls.

There wasn't much in the way of ornaments in the room, there were three candlestick holders on the windowsill and a vase of red roses added to the decor breaking up the Spartan feel.

In the corner there was a six foot palm in a classic terracotta pot. Sarah thought that the green islet gave the room a nice nature inspired feel, the palm filling the room reaching almost to the ceiling.

On the far wall there was a white bookshelf that Sarah had bought after the breakup. Putting it together had nearly driven her mad. After struggling for several hours and much against her will she had to admit that her craftsmanship skills were not up to solving the mysteries of the assembly instructions. She had been forced to ring to her dad, who came the next day and built it for her. He had always been there for her and had never once mentioned her inability to assemble furniture.

She turned on the TV, a classic 28 inch model. She zapped instantly to the Disney Channel watching Mickey Mouse while she thought about her former relationship with a workmate. When she caught herself sighing she quickly zapped off the children's channel, putting the remote on the coffee table in front of her, she tasted her café latte, the aroma had now filled the room and she began to eat her breakfast.

Stop it now Sarah, she thought. Get Andreas out of your head. You know why he left you, so he isn't worth your thoughts.

She was torn from of her day dreaming by her Smartphone beeping in an annoying, persistent manor from the bedroom.

She got up and went into the bedroom grabbing the phone and turning off the alarm. She noticed that she had received a text:

Hi Sarah. Good news. The tests from last night are ready. The new Mama is setup so the PCR bow only takes an hour. See you. Simon!

Sarah answered the message in her usual way, with a smiley formed like an open-ended DNA-string, where the base pair appeared to be a mouth and teeth. It had always reminded her of a crocodile's mouth seen from the side or the hand shadow monster mouth her dad and her had so often made when she was a kid.

She smiled, revealing a fine row of pearl white teeth in deep contrast to the sent smiley.

Another text message ticked in: Get dressed Miss DNAmann!

Sarah laughed out loud.

Her workmates frequently called her Miss DNAmann because she often spent whole nights at the lab either producing PCR or making mutation analysis of the blood samples the center regularly received. They joined DNA with her surname Bermann and produced the nickname.

Yes, yes Simon!, she said to the empty room as she left for the bathroom to take a shower. She could feel her mood lift forcing out the dream and the bad memories, she heard herself whistling Amazing Grace as the warm water hit her 26 year old body.

3

The first leaves on the elm trees in Lancaster County had begun to let go of their summer hues, and the annually return of the beautiful brown tones of fall had begun to show as Daniel Stoltzfus drove home in his horse drawn buggy.

He was finished with the days working the corn field, which had only been broken by a large lunch followed by a nap at home on the farm.

He was with his cousin, Adam, and his three grown sons, Marker, Cleon and Abram, his own boys, John and Samuel and the communities bishop, Isaac. They were harvesting corn.

Samuel had joined them as soon as he got out of school and Daniel had instantly made use of his willingness to work.

Daniel, despite of his age, had worked hard all day and he was looking forward to getting home to Sadie and enjoying a pipe of the dried tobacco he had gotten from the Beiler family.

The congregation had, for a long time, held ten hectares of fallow land in reserve, and in an America where land prices had exploded in spite of the financial crisis making it impossible for many new Amish settlers, they had taken the Beiler's situation under consideration and decided to sell them to purchase the land at a reasonable price, thus allowing them to settle in Gods own land.

Although the summer had given long spells of drought Daniel was satisfied with the years corn crop. He like the other members of the community used neither growth promoting technology nor artificial fertilizers; they relied on manure to build up and maintain the soils fertility. Even though the yield was up to 40% less compared to more industrialized farming process, the taste was incomparably better.

The soil held special meaning for Daniel and the rest of the Amish. According to their beliefs the earth belongs to God, and man has to cultivate, care for and manage it.

He may live off the earth, but it has to be looked after, and to be left in better condition from one growing season to the next because the earth's fertility should never be depleted.

When an Amish farmer dies he is accountable to God for the way he treated the earth, Daniel tried hard to live up to that mantra.

He had several fields on his plot and they all were treated with care. As well as the corn field, Daniel had fields of wheat, rye, oats, and herbs that were dried and made into hay. The crops were rotated in a five year cycle in order to treat them right, and after every harvest, they were used as grazing for the farm animals.

Daniel was used to the hard work required in the fields and on the farm, but he could feel that his strength was ebbing. He was unable to work for hours on end without taking a break, however he felt privileged that many of his male family members were always willing to lend a helping hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It was this unity his lifestyle gave that he would not exchange for all of the world, and he was convinced that it would bring his son, David, who had been away from the family for about a month now on rumspringa, back to the community with a desire to spend the rest of his life as a primitive Amish farmer; he would surely realize how important this unity was.

No job was more important that another, a combination of the chores around the farm and in the community created a fine melody that played throughout not just the family but the entire community.

Daniel turned off the dirt road with his two boys, who were laughing and shoving one another playfully, and he waved to his cousin, Adam, who was driving another buggy behind Daniel’s.

Adams three grown sons had chosen to continue harvesting, so they were still in the field.

The Bishop, Isaac, drove the final buggy in the procession; he also managed to get a goodbye wave as he rolled past on the dirt road.

Daniel drove the final 20 yards in to the farm yard and pulled on the reigns bringing the buggy to a halt.

He got down from the buggy and went up to his horse, Tom, to give him a scratch behind his ear that Daniel knew that he liked.

As opposed to a regular American farmer, the Amish had a close relationship with their animals; especially their horses and cows, who all were named, partly to aid identification, and partly to create a close knit relationship with each individual animal, who were all an essential part of daily life on the farm.

He unhitched Tom from the buggy and lead him towards the gate of the paddock so he could join the other horses. He opened the gate, leading Tom in before gently removing the harness. Afterwards he went to the closest of the other horses in the paddock which allowed itself to be patted by him.

He returned to the buggy, which his sons, John and Samuel, were in the process of covering with a cover they had fetched from the barn, which had the primary function of storing hay and provisions.

Every other Sunday the barn was also used as a church, where the Amish took turns to conduct the church service.

Daniel watched his boys proudly.

When the buggy was covered he went between them and put his arms around their shoulders the three of them moved off towards the white, wooden building that was situated about 50yards from the barn and the paddock.

On the way they passed Grossdaddy's Haus, a smaller wooden dwelling that stood between the main house and one of the farm's two outhouses.

It was a tradition that Amish parents allowed their youngest son to take over their farm when they became too old to work the land. This tradition allowed the parents to help their older sons establish their own farms while they had the vigor to help them. When their strength failed they would leave the farm in the hands of the youngest son, moving from the main house into the smaller Grossdaddy's Haus.

The small wooden dwelling on Daniel and Sadie's plot was for the time being empty. It was waiting for them to grow old enough to move in, when they would hopefully have left the main house to their youngest son Samuel and his future family, if Samuel at that time had chosen to stay within the community.

The sun was low on the horizon and the last rays of the day lit up the well kept farm yard.

Daniel, John and Samuel's long shadows danced after them as they went towards the family's white house and mounted the deck that was full of rows of dark colored clothes that were hanging to dry.

Beside the house there were a number of kick scooters that were, apart from the buggy, the families main form of transport.

It was a convenient way of getting around, but never too far away as a central part of the Amish way of life was to stay close to the family, community and church.

John, who had been a teenager for little over a year opened the door and entered the house with his father and one year old younger little brother, Samuel just behind him.

He could immediately catch the aromas that told him that supper was being prepared in the kitchen, so he hurriedly took off his clogs and straw hat, which he hung on a nail that had been purposely hammered into the wall in the hallway.

He then ran through the living room; a plain, functional room without excess ornamentation, only a calendar and a framed embroidered sampler with a quote from the Bible: The lord is my shepherd, hanging on the walls.

On the homemade patchwork carpets that lay over the creaky wooden floor there were a couple of old stained-elm armchairs that Daniel and Sadie had received as a wedding present; at the windows there were dark blinds, like in the bedrooms, because these rooms needed to be darkened at midday when the family took their nap.

There were no curtains in the house as these would be judged as decoration and were therefore not contusive with the Amish way.

John continued into the kitchen where the female members of the family were assembled. What is for supper?, he asked eagerly, speaking in Pennsylvanian Dutch; due to his age, his voice was breaking. I am starving!

Pennsylvanian Dutch was a unique characteristic for the Amish. It had developed from the original spoken German, which over time had become influenced by the main American language, English. The language is only spoken among the Amish, but in order to communicate with the surrounding American society they taught their children English in school.

Samuel and Daniel entered the kitchen just behind John and joined him at the long table where he had sat down.

They were all expectant and excited to find out what was the evening meal would be.

As the head of the family Daniel sat at the head of the table, as tradition dictates among the Amish.

The boy's mother, Daniels wife, Sadie was frying meatballs while her daughters Ada, 13 and Amanda, 16, were slicing lettuce and boiling potatoes and sausages.

The youngest member of the family, four year old Katie, lay on the floor playing with her only doll, Schumi, which was made out of an old flour sack.

The doll had several stains and showed signs that it had satisfied Katie's need to play many times. It had no face, neither eyes, mouth nor nose, not even hair which was quite normal for Amish dolls because the Amish didn't allow adulations to idols.

This was due to the Old Testaments second commandment:

You shall not make for yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; you shall not bow down to them or serve them; for I The Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love Me and keep My Commandments!

That was the reason that the Amish don't wish to be photographed; a wish that many of the uninvited, and steadily growing number of tourists find hard to accept and respect.

Sadie reduced the heat on the solid-fuel range and went to her sons, kissing them on the forehead, Don't worry boys! she said with a sly smile. Even though the menu isn't Shoofly pie today I don't believe that you will be cheated!

She went over to Daniel and gave him a kiss on the mouth which he willingly returned. Welcome home Dannie!, she cheerfully said to her husband as she went back to the cooker. Did you manage to do all that you had planned?

Daniel sent his busy wife a warm smile as he returned the hugs that his three daughters bestowed on him, before returning to their chores. Yes, almost!, he answered as he filled his pipe with the Beiler family tobacco, which Sadie had considerately placed on the table. But Marker, Cleon and Abram insisted on driving the final load to the silo before calling it a day!

Oh how lovely!, Sadie said. How did Tom and Tony cope with the long day?

Daniel had finished filling the pipe, which he put into this mouth. He reached for a match, which Sadie also had left on the table for him and, satisfied, leaned back in the chair ready to enjoy the tobacco. We didn't have Tony with us today!, he answered. We left him in the paddock with Linda and Maggie. They are both in season so he has enough to see to today. Tom grazed by the corn field, so he had no fight with us for a change!

Samuel opened his eyes wide and smiled, causing Ada and Amanda to giggle.

Tony is out strongest horse, so we use him as breeding stock, Sammie!, John said smartly with a smile on his lips.

The girls continued to giggle.

Sadie quieted the four children. Now, now!, she said in a