Hopeless Mennonite

Continued from A Mennonite Blast

Since it was Saturday, and since when I threw the pen across the room it got all dusty, I decided that it was time to clean my apartment with Pine-Sol again. I put the TV on and just left it on a random channel as I began cleaning. That’s when I realized that the smell of Pine-Sol had an uplifting effect on me. That smell made me feel like I was still part of Mexico and my family.

I thought about it and realized that whenever we had cleaned with Pine-Sol back home we had had something to hope for. We were either getting ready for company or the next day would be Sunday. Saturday nights, when our house smelled like Pine-Sol, I would lay awake in bed hoping and wishing that the next day someone would come and change up our regular, boring routine.   

It was rare that we would get visitors, and when we did it would be around Christmas time. That’s when all the people came back to Mexico from working in the cucumber and tobacco fields in Canada.

Just as I was thinking about that, a commercial came on TV that played a song that took me right back to one Sunday in particular. The song was “Red, Red Wine.”

It was the Sunday when Johan Dyck from Hochstaed and Cornelius Krahn from Neustadt came to my colony. Johan was my step-cousin -- my Grandma had married his grandpa about seven years after my grandpa’s suicide. I knew Cornelius’s family well -- they were my grandparents’ neighbours while they lived in Neustadt.

Cornelius was dating my friend Katharina who had lived in my village but later moved to a smaller village across the main highway. Johan had a car that he had brought back from Canada. While picking her up, they had decided to drive through my village.

My friends and I were doing our usual sitting under a tree eating sunflower seeds. My heart started racing when I saw them pull up to us. Johan parked the car, walked straight up to me, and asked if I wanted to go with them to his village. I didn’t think twice -- I got in and we took off, leaving all the rest of my friends under that hopeless tree in the Mexican dust.

As he pulled up to the main highway he turned on the stereo, and that was the first time I ever heard the song “Red, Red Wine.” That was the most exciting thing that could happen to any of us, and he had asked me, out of all those girls. That made me feel special.

I thought Johan was the best-looking dietscha Jung (Mennonite man) I had ever seen. I could tell that he had learned a thing or two in Canada about how to treat a girl. We drove to Patos (Nuevo Ideal), where Johan and Cornelius bought a few beers and a couple of bags of Rancheritos chips. Johan picked up a few grocery items to bring home.

We went to Johan’s village. That was the first time I had ever been to Hochstaed. We went to his house to bring the groceries to his mom. She invited us all in to sit and have some sunflower seeds in their kitchen. We sat and talked to her for a bit before we left.

We drove back to the main street of Hochstaed sat down under a tree, Johan and Cornelius opened a beer each. Katharina and I just took sips from their beers and ate the chips while listening to “Red, Red Wine” and a song called “Free Fallin’.” I was shocked when I heard the singer mention Jesus (“She loves Jesus, and America, too”). I had never heard a song about someone loving Jesus before.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. We knew beyond a doubt that hearing mention of Jesus in a sinful situation (such as listening to music) was a sin. I felt awkward about feeling joy when Jesus was mentioned in this way.

Though I had never heard the exact words spoken aloud, I was sure it was wrong to feel joy while Jesus was talked about. But then again, I was a hard learner and I had nerve problems. I may have missed this important message somewhere. I just knew it was something we didn’t do. Whenever Jesus or God was being talked about everyone was very sad. That was such a serious topic and never a joyous one.

We had only ever listened to narco corrido songs before. Songs about narcotic trafficking, murder and fleeing from the authorities -- those were popular songs. Listening to music was such a big secret that almost everyone did privately. We didn’t know anything about picking music. We just listened to whatever was playing on the radios or anything we got our hands-on.

By five-thirty, they dropped me off back in my village and when Johan asked if he could visit me that night, I almost jumped out of my skin as I said, “yes!” I was so impressed that he at least asked before just assuming that he was my boyfriend after sitting under a tree and sharing a beer. He wasn’t like the guy who just put his arm around me. He didn’t force his drunken slobber on me like Jake Dyck had done. I was delighted.

When I got home that Sunday my mom was furious with me for going with them. We were not allowed to ever leave our village, especially not with guys who came in a car and who had been to Canada. I had already known that -- I had hoped that she wouldn’t find out about it before I got home. I thought if I explained it to her she would at least hear me out before getting angry. 

Deep down I knew that the news would get to her faster than I could say “Oba, wacht en bätje (But wait a bit)”. My mom grounded me and I was not allowed to see him that night. She told me, “When Johan gets here tonight, your brother can go outside and tell him that you are not allowed to see him.” And that was the end of that.

I was crushed.  That was, until the following Sunday when Johan came back during the day to visit me again. I spent the whole day with him under that hopeless tree in my village. Him being under that tree with me made it seem hopeful. I explained what happened and he wasn’t surprised by that at all.

We talked about how stupid we thought that the whole thing was. We were both Old Colony, and many Old Colony people (including my dad) had been excommunicated at one time or another for driving a car. But I was not allowed to see him because he drove a car. We just didn’t get it.

I enjoyed his company. We got along so well, we were becoming really good friends. I was so happy that we could actually be friends -- that didn’t happen between a male and a female much in a Mennonite colony. You were either boyfriend and girlfriend or nothing. 

I had a strong feeling that that wouldn’t last very long. It was too much fun. And too much fun never lasted. The next Sunday he came to tell me that he was leaving to go work in the US. I never saw him again. All my friends were as heartbroken about it as I was.

My mom was thrilled. She didn’t have to worry about me going places with this “bad boy.” None of our moms actually knew just how bad some of the boys were who dressed “Old-Colony appropriate” and who didn’t have cars to go explore. Every Sunday we were stuck with them, for hours and hours, Sunday after Sunday, because of it.

I returned to reality. While I put the Pine-Sol away I told myself to stop thinking about those hopeless times. The time was going way too slow for me, especially after that long walk down memory lane I had gone on, thanks to the smell of Pine-Sol. I couldn’t wait for that motorcycle ride. I thought I might have to stop cleaning with Pine-Sol or my nerve problems could get worse.

That wouldn’t be easy, though. I didn’t know about any other cleaning products. Pine-Sol was one of the things that were not so different from Mexico. I thought maybe I could ask George what he cleaned with and switch to that. His place always smelled amazing, just like he always did during his hugs which were unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

After thinking about all of that, I was reminded of some of the reasons I had chosen the path I had. I remembered that I was actually doing well in school so far. I began to question if I really was a hard learner. I thought maybe that teacher in my colony just hadn’t known how to learn me.

I was beginning to realize it more and more that letting George and that nurse convince me to go to school was the best decision I had made so far, even though I had been so frightened about starting school all over again. I got my books back out again and actually managed to get the majority of the work done.

Finally, the time had come to get ready to go on a motorcycle ride again and meet George’s mom.

Getting ready to go on a motorcycle ride was easier this time around since I had done it once before. I knew how to get ready although I was secretly wishing George would braid my hair again. I put a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on, combed my hair all to my right side, and braided it. I was too embarrassed to leave it open because I thought then it would be too obvious that I wanted George to braid it again.

I put my boots, my jacket, some lip-gloss on, and off I went to knock on George’s door again. I realized that I was a little less nervous and a bit more confident each time I walked down that hallway. I began feeling a bit less guilty about doing something that I thought perhaps I shouldn’t. Especially after I had survived a crazy stalker.

Those thoughts vanished just before I got to George’s door. They all of a sudden turned into a reminder that it had only been hours since the bomb threats and the massive manhunt that I had been in the center of. That a man I knew very little about was in jail because of me and that he might be REALLY pissed off at me now. I quickly turned my focus to breathing because I was starting to feel like I was going to throw up again. Click here to continue reading my story.

A Mennonite Blast

Continued from Scattered Mennonite

The police officer said, “I have good news -- we arrested Mark at two this morning. Anna, I need you to come with me down to the station one more time to ask you some more questions and to sign some paperwork. We have filed a restraining order against him.”

I looked at George all confused, and he explained to me what a restraining order was in plain English.

“Could George come with me to do all this?” I asked the police officer.

“He certainly can, Anna.”

While George went to get dressed the police officer asked me how long I had known George. I told him that I had known him for three and a half years. I met him the first day I started working at the factory.

It happened after my supervisor, Nancy (who spoke Low German), got me set up at a sewing station. I had only been sewing for about two hours when the sewing machine broke.

That was the day I heard the words “tool and die guy” for the first time. That tool and die guy was George. After I explained to my supervisor that the machine was not working anymore, she said, “I will go get the tool and die guy to fix it,” then she explained it to me in Low German.  

 

When Nancy and the tool and die guy (George) came walking toward the sewing machine, I saw all the tattoos he had on his arms. I thought, “Waut haft de aun deinsiena aoms?” 

(What does he have on his arms?). Then I looked up at his face and he smiled, revealing his perfect teeth. That’s when I thought, “Wow, he must have dentures.”

I figured out very quickly what kind of dietsch person Nancy was. We never used the word Mennoniten (Mennonites) to describe ourselves. We referred to ourselves only as dietsche menschen (German people) she was dietsche but I could tell that she was not Old Colony, because she had really short hair and she was wearing pants.

That’s how I knew that she might either be konfe'rensa (general conference Mennonite) or äwa jebocket (tipped over) which is a term used to describe someone who doesn’t belong to a dietsche Kjoakj (German church) and has joined the World.

The officer handed me a tape to replace the one he had taken into evidence from my answering machine. I took the tape and asked if I could go to my apartment to quickly shower and change before we had to go to the police station. “Absolutely, Anna,” he replied.

George came out of his room, beautifully dressed and smelling amazing. They both came with, to my apartment. I showered, changed, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and put it into a bun.

When I came back into my living room and saw the two of them sitting on that hideous floral love seat that Mark had given me, I thought to myself, “I have to get rid of that as soon as possible.” 

At the police station, the officer asked me the same questions as he had asked me the day before. After I sign a pile of papers, he said, “Okay, Anna, that is it for now. I will call you during the week to fill you in on the rest, but for now, we are done. Mark is not going to bother you again.”

I liked the sound of that even better than Hilary’s wonderful, wonderful, wonderful words about me being ambitious about school. I didn’t even ask what else he was charged with or how long he would be put away or anything. I was just relieved to be done with it and to be able to get out of there.

“We checked and cleared your cousin’s car and it’s ready for you to drive home,” said the police officer.

“Okay, great. Thank you,” I replied.

The officer asked us to follow him to where the car was parked and gave me the keys. He noticed that I was hesitant to get in. I was still too nervous to start the car after all that talk about bombs and blowing things up. The officer looked at me and said, “Here, give me the keys back I will back it out for you.”

He started the car, backed it out of the parking space, and drove it up and down the parking lot, just to show me that it wouldn’t blow up. I held my breath the entire time.

“Anna, just breathe. Holding your breath won’t change the outcome,” said George.

I inhaled a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

The officer parked the car, stepped out, gave me the keys, and said, “See Anna? It’s all clear, you are good to go. Take care of yourself.”

“Okay, I will try. Thank you,” I replied.

George opened the door for me. I got in and just sat there for a while in deep thought. After a few minutes of complete silence, my thoughts got pulled back to the present when George asked, “Are you getting hungry yet? You want to go out for breakfast? It will be my treat.”

“Okay. I’m not sure if I am hungry but tell me where to go and I will drive there.”

After I had nibbled away at my food for a while and George finished eating his breakfast, he asked, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ahhh… schoolwork, sleeping, thinking about everything that happened this week. How grateful I am that you didn’t have to figure out who would call Mexico to tell my mom that I had a stalker. That he blew up the entire factory because of me. And a bunch of people including me are dead because of it, that’s about it.” I replied.

“Holy shit, Anna! That sounds like a blast,” he said. And we both laughed like crazy. I actually got that one. I was so proud of myself for getting one of his jokes in the right context right after he said it. That was progress for me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“My mom invited me over to her house for dinner tonight. She lives in Port Stanley and since it’s getting colder out, I’ll have to put my motorcycle away soon. Would you like to join me for one last ride to Port Stanley before I store my motorcycle for the winter?”

I had a hard time containing my excitement as I watched those beautiful words flow through his perfect teeth. I thought, “There is nothing I can think of that would be better than that,” as the butterflies began to go wild in my stomach again.

After everything that had happened, I was happy to be distracted by George. He had done such a good job of doing just that the whole time my stalker was being searched for. I wondered what I would have done if George wouldn’t have been home that night.

“Do you think your mom would be okay with me coming along?” I asked.

“Absolutely, she would love to meet you. She gets along with most people and she is really easy-going,” he said. 

“Okay, I’ll come with you then. That sounds much better than the ‘blast’ I was going to have on my own this weekend,” I said.

He laughed and gave me a high five and said, “Atta girl, there it is. I knew you could do it.” 

“Ahhh… you just wait, I’m sure that next one you’ll have to explain to me again, a week later,” I said.

“I don’t know about that, you’re picking up and getting this English lingo quite well.”

For a brief moment, I thought “I wonder what ‘atta girl’ means”, and quickly told myself, “Anna, leave it alone and just enjoy and celebrate this breakthrough you just experienced.” 

Later, at home, while I was having a shower, I started shaking again, thinking about those last few days I had had. That’s when I thought that I should have just let George deal with Mark like he wanted to in the first place -- then it might have not gotten this far.

It didn’t dawn on me how lucky I was that it all turned out the way it did. I felt so bad that I had let it go that far. I felt guilty that I had caused the factory to lose a whole shift and have such a big scare, especially after Hilary had been so kind and helped me out so much during the short time that I had been back to work.

The whole situation brought me right back to the tobacco field when my car sunk in the sand and I caused the farmer way more work than I had actually worked for him. I thought “Dios mio, wherever I go, bad things happen. If I get fired I deserve it.”

I tried to get back to my normal routine and do some of my school work. I thought about all those big words the police officer asked me that I didn’t really understand. The police officer had had to explain everything to me a few times using different words before I understood him. He was very good at that, I could tell that he had done that sort of thing before.

I really hoped that my mom wouldn’t hear any version of what had happened because I realized that I would have a really hard time explaining all of it to her in Low German. I didn’t even know some of the words in Low German that would be used in a situation like that. I realized that that obviously was because we were never expected to be in a situation like that.

I threw the pencil I’d been using for my school work across the room in frustration. I took a few deep breaths, then got up, picked up the pencil, wiped the dust off of it, and decided that I was too distracted to learn anything at that moment. I couldn’t wait for the hours to pass fast enough so I could go on a motorcycle ride with George again. Click here to continue reading my story.

Scattered Mennonite

Continued from Mennonite Swoon

“No, Anna, you are not going to get fired over this. Not if I have anything to do with it. Hilary knows that none of this was your fault. Don’t worry about that right now. I got some new movies -- would you like to watch one?”

“Okay. Yes, sure, that would be great.”

He got up, put a movie on, then sat back down and continued rubbing my feet. I woke up with a blanket on me and the smell of strong coffee. I sat up and saw blankets and a pillow on the floor next to the couch.

I realized that I had fallen asleep and slept through the whole night. George had slept on the floor next to the couch. George came into the living room with a cup of coffee in each of his hands and said, “Good morning, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

“Ahhh… I’m not sure.”

He was wearing a tight muscle shirt, pajama bottoms, and his hair was all messed up. He sat down beside me and winked at me as he handed me a cup of coffee. I just stared at him and didn’t know what to say. He stared right back at me and smiled. He didn’t blink or break eye contact as he took a sip of his coffee.

I squirmed as I felt my stomach turning into warm jello. It turned me into mush all the way down to my toes. That feeling mixed with everything that was going on was overwhelming. I started shaking. I tried so hard to hold on and keep it together, but it was like at that moment I experienced a real awakening, and a tear just rolled down my face.

It felt like I had just been floating on a foggy cloud up to that point for the last few days, and everything that had happened wasn’t real. But suddenly I had woken up to my reality: the bomb threats and everything was actually happening.

He put his coffee down, took the coffee out of my hand, and sat it down on the coffee table. He got down on his knees in front of me and slid his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the tears. He slid his fingers into my hair, pulled me right up against him and hugged me really tight.

“Anna, tell me, what should I do?”

He loosened his arms so he could see my face again before I answered him.

“You are doing everything. Why are you taking such good care of me?”

“I don’t see why anybody wouldn’t. I’m glad that I get to be the one to do this and please don’t worry about why I am doing it, okay?”

“Okay. Well, thank you for letting me stay here and being so kind to me.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetie.” 

I took a few deep breaths, picked up my coffee, took a sip of it, and asked, “Did anyone call while I was sleeping? Did you hear anything more about what is going on?”

“Nope, nothing. Can I ask you something?”

“Ahhh… sure.”

What does fula mean? Last night you were crying for someone in your sleep. You were saying something like fula nich me… luten... or something like that.”

“Ahhh… I must have had that dream again, about my grandfather (we called him Fula) he committed suicide. I often dream that I am on a boat drifting to a place called Posen Land. I see him and I’m trying to ask him why he left us, but before I get a chance a thick fog blows between us until I can’t see him anymore.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s like my life is one big puzzle that is all over the place, and when I’m awake I’m always working on putting the pieces together. And when I’m asleep I am looking for some of the missing pieces. My mind never stops working on putting this big puzzle together, but the pieces that I have just don’t fit no matter which way I try to put them together.” I took a sip of the coffee and asked, “Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do. I think when you learn more about yourself and who you are you will create your own puzzle and put it together successfully. Then you will learn how to deal with that giant scattered puzzle and know that you don’t have to put all the pieces together on your own.”

He always had a good answer for me, even if what I was trying to say didn’t make any sense. He made everything seem possible. I took another sip of the coffee and asked, “Do you still think I don’t know who I am?”

“Oh f#ck. I’m sorry, I did say that again, didn’t I?”

I laughed and said, “It’s okay, I think I am beginning to get the idea that there is a difference between where you are from and who you are. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a lot of work and a long process for me to learn just who I really am.”

“I think you are well on your way, from what I see and the way you grabbed school by the horns. I have no doubt that you will figure it all out. And just in case you are wondering where the school’s horns are, it’s just a figure of speech. Just like ‘living in a bubble.’”

We both laughed as we continued to drink the coffee. The coffee was so much stronger than the instant coffee I always drank.

“How is the coffee?” George asked.

“It’s stronger than I’m used too but I like it. I might be ruined now, how can I go back to instant coffee after this?”

“You shouldn’t go back to instant coffee. I don’t know how you drink that crap.”

“Well, I put it in a cup and take one small sip at a time, that’s how.”

He laughed and said, “Yes! That’s a good one, Anna.”

I got up and walked over toward the balcony door to see if the police were still there. George followed me, slid the balcony door open and we stood there looking down the street. The police cruisers were still parked by the front entrance.

I was reminded that standing beside George on his balcony, early on a Saturday morning, drinking coffee, was very risky. How would explain that one to my mom if she heard about that?

I looked around to see if anyone might see me up there.

“Anna, don’t worry so much about who might see you up here. It doesn’t matter, especially right now, don’t you think?”

“I know, it shouldn’t. But I just hate that I am causing my mom so much pain. Her life already sucks enough without me making it harder for her. I thought to be this far away from her would make it a bit easier for her, but as it turns out it’s not.”

“Yes, I hear you. But can I tell those people to f#ck off and mind their own f#cking business?”

“No! You cannot do that, George.”

“Okay, I won’t. But I really want to.”

“No!”

“Okay!” he said, and we both laughed as we watched a black undercover police car pull up to the building. It was the same giant police officer that I had spent so much time with the day before.

He walked straight into the building and came up the stairs to George’s apartment. When I heard the knock on the door my heart started pounding as I anticipated his entrance, wondering what kind of news he might bring.

George invited the police officer in, got a chair out for him, poured him a cup of coffee, and handed it to him. The police officer took his cap off, put it in his lap, and said, “First and foremost: how are you doing, Anna?”

“I think I’m okay. Staying here was the best decision. I felt safe and even slept through the whole night. Much better than yesterday, that’s for sure. I didn’t think that that would happen.”

“Great, that is good to hear,” the officer replied. Click here to continue reading my story.

Mennonite Swoon

Continued from Clueless Mennonite

The giant officer went to the other room to call George while I held my breath, thinking that it would help for him to be home. A few times I almost passed out, so I took a breath and held it again. About twenty minutes later the officer returned with a smile on his face.

“Anna, you are lucky to have a friend like George. He is one-of-a-kind; after my conversation with him I feel confident that you will be safe with him.”

“I’m glad you say that. I think so too. When I first met him I thought he was the crazy one and Mark was the normal one. How am I supposed to know which people I can trust and which ones I can’t?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many people have this dilemma and find themselves in the same predicament.”

I didn’t really get what he was saying and wondered, “When is all of this going to be over?”

“What about my cousin’s car? It’s still at the factory.”

“We will have to give it a thorough inspection before it will be safe for you to drive again. We will let you know when that is done. I explained to your friend George that there will be a few officers at the apartment building keeping an eye on things until we make the arrest,” he said.

“Okay.”

He handed me a card with his name and phone number on it and said, “If you remember anything else about Mark or what happened, please call me.”

He opened all the doors for me as we headed back to the undercover police car. On the way to my apartment, the police officer was all serious and just concentrating on driving again. He wasn’t saying anything, so I thought would ask him questions.

“Have you ever arrested someone just for being stupid?” I asked.

He laughed and said, “Oh Anna, believe me, I have wanted too, many times, but that is actually against the law. If someone did something stupid and if that stupid thing was against the law, then yes, I have.”

“Once in a while I think that my aunts and uncles might be right, I often doubt my decisions. Many times I have thought that I have either made the best decision ever or the stupidest mistake of my life. I am trying so hard to figure out which one it is,” I told him.

“I’m sure it can’t be easy for you, but what happened here today has happened many times before. And please know that none of it was your fault, Anna. I can’t go into any of the details, but we have been investigating this person for a while now. After the stunt he pulled today, we have enough on him to put him away for a long time.”

When we arrived at my apartment building he parked the car on the street in front of the building. There were two police officers standing by the entrance, one on each side of the door.

“I will have to go into your apartment and get the tape from your answering machine. It will be part of the evidence. Would you be able to let me in?” he asked.

“Okay,” I said.

I opened the door to my apartment. I asked if he could stay for a little while so I could change, wash my face, and brush my teeth. He said, “Absolutely, Anna, take as long as you need.”

I went to my bedroom and quickly changed into a dress I got from Bree’s sister. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. When I came out, the officer was on the phone talking to someone. When he saw me he hung up the phone and asked if I was ready to go and if I was okay.

“I’m not sure if I am okay,” I replied.

“Could you give me the keys to your cousin’s car?”

I gave him the keys and we walked over to George’s apartment. The officer knocked on the door. When George opened it, it smelled amazing in his apartment -- I could tell he had been cooking.

George shook the police officer’s hand and said, “Please come in.”

I walked in toward the lizard’s cage as George stayed at the door, talking with the officer for a few minutes. I just stared at the lizard in a daze as I realized that their voices started to sound like an echo from a distance. I suddenly felt cold and tingly going all the way down to my toes. I heard footsteps echoing toward me. I turned around and caught a glimpse of George.

When I opened my eyes I saw George’s lips moving slowly, then I heard the sound of his voice whispering, “Welcome back, Anna.” I was laying on the couch. He had one hand under my head and the other holding a wet cloth on my forehead.

“I got to you just as you were going down and I caught you. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” I replied.

“I hope you’re hungry, I cooked dinner for us. You want to try and sit up?”

“Okay.”

He took the wet cloth off my forehead and helped me up to a sitting position. I still felt a bit weak and lightheaded. I just leaned back on the pillow and stayed there for a while.  George went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and sat down beside me as I drank it.

He was doing everything he could to distract me from thinking about what was happening. He didn’t ask me anything about the police or what had happened. He was doing a really good job of keeping my mind off of it. Every time I started thinking about it he would say something funny and made me laugh.

George put the same gray pillows on the floor by the coffee table that we sat on the last time I ate there. He went to the kitchen and came back with two plates of food, sat them on the coffee table, and said, “Okay, Anna, let’s eat. I am starving.”

I just slid off the couch on to the floor and wiggled myself onto the pillow as he went back to the kitchen and brought us each a little bowl with watermelon cubes. He put them on the table and sat down.

I bowed my head and said my prayer. When I looked up George was waiting for me patiently with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, with a smile on his face.

“I hope you like mushrooms. You don’t have to eat them if you don’t. I thought I would give this meal a shot -- steak with mushrooms, roasted baby red potatoes with rosemary, and watermelon for dessert.”

“I have never tasted mushrooms before. This will be another first for me,” I said.

I took a mushroom and put it in my mouth, chewed it for a while, and said, “Mmm, they are really good. I like the taste.” I ate all the mushrooms on my plate, one baby potato, and a few bites of the steak.

“Thank you, George. This is the best meal I have had since the quesadillas at GT’S in Port Stanley on my birthday.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” he said and winked at me.

I took the bowl of watermelon, looked for the seeds then looked up at him. He smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Anna, I picked them all out for you,” and winked at me again.

I blushed as I thought, “Dios mio, how long am I going to have to stay here with him?”

When he finished his watermelon, he got up and put my favorite Alanis Morissette CD on. I carried some of the dishes to the kitchen sink, started the water, and put the dishes in. He brought the rest of the dishes and set them down on the counter. He grabbed a towel and started drying what I had washed.

As the song “Hand In My Pocket” started playing I tried so hard to concentrate on something else so I wouldn’t cry. But the tears just rolled down my face into the dishwater.

George took the plate from my hands and put it on the counter. He dried my hands off and didn’t let go as he threw the towel on the floor. He pulled me right up against him, leaned against the counter, put his arms around me and hugged me really tight. He said, “It’s okay, Anna, just let it all out.”

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I cried through the whole song and took a few deep breaths, as I lifted my head I saw that his shirt was completely soaked from my tears.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt all wet. Did you have any plans? Oh no, did I ruin your weekend?”

“Anna, it’s just a f#cking shirt, don’t be sorry, it’s okay. Since I hadn’t talked to you in a while I was actually going to ride my motorcycle to the factory and visit you during lunch break.”

“Oh, okay, that would have been really nice.”

The phone rang. He went to answer it. He didn’t say much, he was just listening. I walked over to the window to see if the police were still there. They were walking up and down the sidewalk talking into their radios as it was getting darker.

I went and lay down on the couch, closed my eyes and all I could see were flashing lights from the ambulance, fire trucks, and police cars. George came, sat down on the couch beside me, picked up my feet, and put them on his lap.

He started rubbing my feet as he told me that the police still hadn’t found him but they had a lead that they were following.

“I just can’t believe this is happening. Do you think I am going to get fired?” Click here to continue reading my story.

Clueless Mennonite

Continued from Mennonite Stalker

The police officer guided me to an unmarked undercover police car, opened the passenger door and said, “Ma’am, please get in.” I was shaking so bad I had a hard time putting on my seatbelt.

The police officer didn’t say anything to me on the way to the police station. My heart skipped a beat when I heard a voice, “The bomb squad is now on sight at the factory,” over the CB radio. The police officer looked at me, then turned the radio off.

I had so many questions but I was too scared to ask the police officer what was happening. He wasn’t saying anything, he was just concentrating on driving. It looked like he was really mad at me.

I felt so tiny sitting beside him, I was afraid to say anything. I thought, “If I say anything wrong to him he could crush me with his thumb.” When I looked up at him he just gave me a fake half-smile and looked away.

That was the closest I had ever been to a policeman before. I thought of the time I got to go to Durango City with my aunt and uncle in their white van that they had brought from Canada.

As we drove out of the colonies my uncle had said, “Now you all have to put on your seatbelts because if we get pulled over by the Federales I will get a ticket.” He said everything in Low German except for the word ticket. I laughed and thought, “Ticket -- that’s a really funny word, I wonder what that means.”

My aunt had definitely eaten watermelons about eight months ago and forgotten to pick out the seeds. She was constantly reminding my uncle to slow down and to be careful but he didn’t listen to her. He tried to pass a gravel truck many times but there was just too much traffic, so he decided to drive like a complete maniac and pass the gravel truck on the right shoulder.

Sure enough, a Federale saw him do that and pulled us over. I understood enough of the conversation to know that the Federale asked my uncle why he was manejando como un pendejo (driving like an idiot.)

My uncle lied and told him that we were on our way to the hospital, pointed to his wife, threw some money at him, and just took off. The Federale didn’t even get a chance to respond to my uncle. He just sped off leaving the Federale in the Mexican dust.

When we arrived at the police station the officer got out of the car, walked around, and opened the car door for me. I followed him to the door of the police station. He opened it and gestured for me to go in, saying, “Ma’am, please follow me this way.”

We got to a room that looked a bit like an office. There were piles of papers everywhere. The police officer said, “Please have a seat.” I sat down. He took a deep breath, pulled up his gun belt as he sat down in a chair in front of me. He took off his cap, put his hands together, made eye contact with me, “Anna, do you know what is happening?” he asked.

“Ahhh… I have an idea but I don’t think I do. Ahhh… No, I don’t, or I’m not sure,” I said.

“What is your boyfriend’s name, Anna?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend. Mark thinks that I have a boyfriend and that's why he's so mad at me, but I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Mark is not your boyfriend?”

“NO…”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I’m so sorry for all of this. I should have just called Mark back, that’s all he wanted. He just wanted me to call him back and I didn’t. This is my fault, why were there so many fire trucks and an ambulance at the factory, did someone get hurt?”

“No Anna, the reason I just brought you here was to get you away from the factory. We had to evacuate the whole building because a man named Mark called and ask to speak to you. Your supervisor told him that you could call him back at break time. He got really upset and started threatening your supervisor and hung up on Mark.”

“What?”

“Mark called back right away, calming that he was your boyfriend and that he planted a bomb in the factory. He said that he was going to blow everything up.”

The police officer got a page to take a phone call. He got up and walked to a different room to pick up the phone. While I sat there alone with my thoughts, I had some time to process everything that was happening.

When I realized that I was completely clueless about everything and how much trouble I could actually be in, I suddenly felt nauseous. When the police officer came back he took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay, Anna? You look really pale.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

He opened the door quickly and said, “Here is a bathroom,” and pointed to it. He followed me and open the bathroom door for me. I just made it to the toilet and throw up. I felt really cold and started shivering.

When I came back I sat back down in the same chair, the police officer picked up his huge police jacket and gently wrapped it around me. He opened a bottle of water, gave it to me and said, “Here, have a drink,” with a real smile. After that, I started feeling more comfortable around him.

“I just spoke with my partner and they cleared the building, there was no bomb. Mark just wanted to get back at your supervisor for not letting him talk to you right away.

The police officer got a notepad and a pen out and said, “Okay Anna, can you go back to the first time you met Mark and tell me everything you know about him and what happened between you two?”

I started from the beginning -- the first time I met him at the job finding club. I told him everything including the times when he visited me at my apartment, the candy he had left me at work, the scary messages he had left on my answering machine, and that I had saved them all.

He wrote everything down as fast as I was talking. I thought that was amazing. “That was a smart thing to do, Anna, I am so glad you saved those messages, we will need them for evidence,” he said.

He asked me so many questions my head was spinning. He was using big words I had never heard of before. I was relieved when he finally asked, “Is there anything else you might have forgotten to tell me?”

“No, that is it,” I answered.

“Okay, I think we are done here. Until my partners find this guy and arrest him you are not safe out there. Is there someone you would like to call? You want to call your parents to come and pick you up? You shouldn’t be alone tonight, or at least until we find Mark and arrest him.”

“He is going to get arrested?” I asked.

“Yes Anna, he is. He committed a serious crime. He is in big trouble he is definitely going to jail.”

I thought, “Oh no, what is he going to do when he finds out that he is going to jail because of me?” I ran to the bathroom and threw up again. I rinsed my mouth with water, washed my face, and walked back into the room, and sat back down.

“Who would you like to call to come and pick you up? Do you have any family you could call or your parents?”

“I can’t call my parents, if they left right away they would get here in three days. They live in Mexico. I do have a bunch of aunts and uncles close by. But if I called them they would laugh at me and wish that you would put me in jail just for being stupid.”

“Why do they think that you are being stupid?”

“They just don’t understand the choices I have made and they don’t agree with the lifestyle I am living. They believe that we Dietsche menschen, (Mennonite people) ahhh... How much time do you have?”

He laughed and said, “Okay, I understand. Maybe you could tell me all about that another time. But none of them would help you because of that?”

“Yes. Well, most of them. I do have one aunt and uncle that I still visit with occasionally, they are the only ones who still like me. Their kids are allowed to dress like worldly people and go to high school. Most of my aunts and uncles don’t speak to them either because of that. But they live too far away.”

“Okay, I understand. Do you have a friend you could call and perhaps stay with until we make the arrest?”

“The only friend I have right now who would help me is George, my neighbour. Could you call him and explain everything to him? It would go a lot faster if you did it. I just really hope that he is home tonight.”

“Sure, give me his phone number and I will give him a call from the other room."

He wouldn’t make one phone call in front of me. I got the idea that he might be keeping secrets from me and that he didn’t want me to know exactly what was going on, or what he was telling everyone except me. Click here to continue reading my story.