The Amish Clockmaker
“Once the service was over, I was feeling much better. After rearranging the benches, we all shared in the usual light communal meal and were discussing the shop’s expansion delay when the talk turned to Clayton Raber, startling me out of my short-lived sense of peace.
“Does it bother you to go in the barn, knowing a woman died in there—and so violently, no less?” one of the women asked.
“Different barn,” I muttered, not bothering to explain that my grandfather had taken down the one big barn de...cades ago, building in its place the two barns that were there now—a medium-sized one for the feed store and a smaller one for our horses.
“Still, what’s it like working and living in the same place he worked and lived?” another person asked, saying “he” with force, almost as if it were a bad word.
I looked to Amanda on my right and then Noah on my left, hoping one of them would respond more graciously in the moment than I might.
“Makes no difference to me,” Noah answered confidently.MoreLess
“Does it bother you to go in the barn, knowing a woman died in there—and so violently, no less?” one of the women asked.
“Different barn,” I muttered, not bothering to explain that my grandfather had taken down the one big barn de...cades ago, building in its place the two barns that were there now—a medium-sized one for the feed store and a smaller one for our horses.
“Still, what’s it like working and living in the same place he worked and lived?” another person asked, saying “he” with force, almost as if it were a bad word.
I looked to Amanda on my right and then Noah on my left, hoping one of them would respond more graciously in the moment than I might.
“Makes no difference to me,” Noah answered confidently.MoreLess
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