The Mennonite Woman's Escape

The Mennonite Woman's Escape Part 2

"Either bedroom on the left can be yours; however, the front has a better view. The door on the right is for my room, I told her.

I'm going to unload the truck and put everything away. Then, I will take a nap after checking my e-mail because driving makes me tired.

When I get up in about an hour, we can go to eat." I added.

"Tomorrow, I'm planning on going to the market in Ajijic, and we can buy there and at one of the large Mexican grocery stores to stock up. Think about that, and we'll talk over dinner." I said.

She said ok. When I started unloading the truck, she was there helping me carry everything and put it away.

After we finished putting everything away, I hooked up my laptop, logged into my e-mail, and found several about a killing at home late the night before. I quickly signed onto Facebook to see new postings.

On the TV station's Facebook site, I watched them talk about a situation at a local business between the owner and a customer.

The customer had shot at the owner, wounding him. After a confrontation and resisting arrest, the police shot and killed the customer.

The TV station was trying to contact the shooter's family, but they were unavailable. The man's wife was reported, to the police, as missing for three days.

I went back to my e-mails and read that the shooter at the local feed/mercantile store was Benjamin Spreckels. Spreckels was a local farm owner and an active Elder in the Mennonite community.

After checking all my e-mails and the internet for more information, I found there wasn't much more.

I called Rachel into the front room, sat her down, and told her, "What had happened to her husband," as carefully as I could.

She sat there a while, looking sad and thoughtful, until she said, "Is there any way to contact the police department and my daughter Nadine so they know I'm alive and well?"

"Yes. My laptop has a program that allows me to make calls anywhere. Does your daughter have a phone? I answered. She nodded yes.

"Ok, do you want to call her first or the police?" I asked.

"Kurt, her husband, has the phone for his hauling business, but they will be together now. Let's call them and then the police," she answered.

I set up the call, sat her at the desk, and handed her the headphones with a microphone. I explained it to her, which she quickly understood. She gave me the number, and I typed it in and started to leave, but she asked me to stay.

When she was connected, she asked for Nadie, and I heard a gasp and "Rachel, is that you?"

"Yes, it is," she said.

"We thought he had killed you the way he has been acting for the last few months," said the voice of Kurt on the other end.

"Kurt, is Nadie there? I need to talk to you both," Rachel said.

"Mama, we are both here. Are you safe? Have you heard about Papa?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm safe, and I heard about your father. I left him four days ago after he hurt me again. I am far away and safe. I will call the police after I finish this call. Do you need anything?" Rachel answered.

"No, Mama, just knowing you're safe. Will you be coming back soon?" They asked.

She looked at me, and I said, "It's up to you and the police."

"Unless the police say I must return, I want to stay here for a while." She said.

"Ok, that sounds good. Relax and regroup. Where are you?" Kurt asked.

"I will call you back and fill you in after I talk to the police," Rachel said.

"Love you," she said, motioning for me to end the call.

"Thank you. Are you sure I can still stay here?" She asked.

"Yes, and now I don't have to worry about people wanting to arrest me or shoot me because you're here," I stated.

I looked up the number for the police, programmed it, and connected it. This call was short. When Rachel got the officer in charge, she told him who she was. She told him that she was in Mexico and from what was on the internet she was eating with friends at the time of the murder. She gave the name of the restaurant and the town it was in.

The officer asked how to get back to her if he needed more information.

Rachel looked at me, puzzled. I wrote, "Get his e-mail address, and you will send him yours as soon as you get one today." She wrote his e-mail down, repeated it back, and hung up.

After hanging up, she sagged down into the chair. After a few minutes, Rachel asked, "Did I miss being killed too, or did my leaving cause him to come apart mentally?"

I answered, "You'll never know, but if he hurt you, leaving was the only thing I could do. The news is full of people who stayed with abusive people and were killed or worse."

"I know, even as isolated as I was, the stories of the senseless shootings and attacks. Everyone had heard and talked about them. All we could do was pray,"

She said.

I went and got us fruit drinks, and as we drank them, I explained to Rachel how to log on to hotmail.com and got Rachel her first e-mail address -- Racheis safe@hotmail.com. She had used a typewriter before, so it was easier to show her how to use the computer and compose and send an e-mail to the police officer.

We both went to our rooms and took about an hour's nap. Afterward, when we both were up, we checked Rachel's e-mail address, and the police had written back. They thanked Rachel and said they would contact her if needed but didn't feel it was necessary. She answered the e-mail and signed off.

She asked, "Could I contact Kurt and Nadie again?" I set up a link for her to contact them directly on the laptop, and she soon talked to them.

She eased their minds about the police and everything. She told them that she was in Mexico but had just got here.

She said "that she didn't feel she wanted to come back right now, even for the funeral."

She set up to call them often, give them her e-mail, and got Kurt's e-mail for his business. They all seemed calmer. I stayed to answer any questions that might come up, but none had.

Before they hung up, Nadie asked, "Mama, are you down there with Mike from the Flea Market?"

"Yes, I rode down with him to escape your Papa. I will be renting part of a house down here. Mike knows the owner and will work out the details for me.

You know I have been saving back for a long time with how your Papa acted," she answered.

"Mama, I think you should "Be English" from now on, but learn Spanish too," Nadie said.

"Yes. You are right. I cut my hair already, even before I heard the news," Rachel replied. They said their goodbyes and hung up.

She smiled at me and asked, "Did you understand everything?"

"Everything but the "Be English" reference. Does that mean not wearing the Mennonite style of clothing?" I asked.

"Yes. It also means moving forward to today but remembering who, what, and where you are from. For someone to speak modern English without thee's and thou's.

There will be more changes and challenges, and I'm sure that will go along with it. I had thought about it for a long time before I asked you to help me." She answered.

We talked and agreed to walk through the village to another of my favorite places to eat, even though it was about twelve long blocks each way.

Walking in this old part of a Mexican town meant river rock paved narrow roads with sometimes broken uneven sidewalks. But it also meant saying hola to everyone as you passed and seeing open shops and street vendors selling a myriad of different items.

We reached a restaurant called "Tres Lugar's Comida," which means three food places and went in. After being seated and ordering drinks, we studied the menus from 3 countries printed in Spanish and English.

I knew what they were, but I quickly explained to Rachel that a few years ago, three people graduated from different culinary arts schools and went for training in other countries to learn about their types of cooking and foods.

They all wanted to come home, but there weren't any jobs. Each had saved some money for a restaurant but not enough to start one. So they went together and opened Tres. Every weekend, a different cook would have control of the specials.

She stared at me for a moment and then laughed. "I guess I should pick a type of food first and then a dish. Is that right?"

'That's what I always do. I tried to work through one menu in order, but I always wanted something on another. So I eat whatever the special is unless there is something I'm hungry for. I've also seen people order parts of a meal from all three menus," I answered.

When the waiter came and told us the special was Spicy Shrimp Chow Mein, which I ordered. Rachel ordered the Wiener Schnitzel.

As we waited for our meal, Rachel told me she had it in Germany when they had visited there.

Then she broke up and cried softly for a few minutes until she stopped and said, "Even though things were so bad for a long time, I will miss him and am sorry he's dead."

Things were quiet between us after that until the food came and was half eaten, then, after asking if Rachel wanted to try a bite of my dish, we started talking about the food she loved.

Then we talked about Mexico around here and tomorrow's trip to the market. She also wanted to know how long it took to go to the market and return.

I told her, "Even with her looking at everything if we got there by 9:30, we would be back at about 12:30 or 1:00. Why?"

She answered, "I saw Mila's Spa, which looked nice on the way here, and I need to visit a beauty spa before I can go swimming. Have you ever heard of it before?"

"Yes, I think it has been here six or seven years. I've seen women going in and out over the years and have never heard any complaints. I also think I heard the staff speak English there," I answered.

On the way back, Rachel stopped and talked to them just before they closed at 8:00 pm and made an appointment for 3:00 pm the next day.

When she told me about making the appointment, she seemed excited and somewhat weary about going to the spa.

We took our time walking back, and we stopped in an electronics shop where Rachel looked at a camera, and I asked her about it. She said, "She wanted to take pictures of the area and people."

I offered her an extra digital camera, which I had gotten in a recent deal I made. She accepted it sight unseen.

When we got back, I gave it to her and showed her how to use it and download it on an older desktop computer I had put in her room. I also put her connections for the phone and e-mail services on it.

Afterward, we listened to music and read for a while before heading to our beds. I said, "We needed to be up early, so we set our alarms for 5:30 am and said goodnight."

I was already making coffee the next morning when I heard Rachel's alarm go off. I heard her moving around upstairs for a few minutes before she came down dressed to go.

As I drank coffee and she drank milk, I mentioned that the day would be a little hot for the blue jogging suit she had on.

She said, "Maybe tomorrow she could wear something else, but not today."

I suggested, "We each take a backpack and a carry bag to the market. To get there, we could ride the local bus, because it was easier than trying to find a parking place, and we could see more of the town.

When we get there, we need to walk through the market to see what is for sale today and try to plan a menu for the week. Then, we walked back, buying what we needed. We also need to ensure not to overbuy with the prices so low and the assortment of foods here.

We enjoyed the bus ride, and I pointed out places along the way. The market was open, and all vendor spots were open and filled with products.

After walking down the entire market, we stopped, ate fresh breakfast tacos, and drank just squeezed orange juice.

We shopped, haggled, and had fun doing it. The fresh fruits, vegetables, eggs, cheeses, fish, and fowl soon filled our bags.

Before leaving the area, we went to a local grocery store to pick up things we hadn't found at the market.

Riding back to the house, we talked about the things we saw, the people, and this part of Mexico in general.

When we arrived at the house, Rachel watched me put all the fruits and vegetables and soak them in an antibacterial solution called Microdyn for about 20 minutes. After a few minutes of soaking, we made a salad and ate lunch.

Rachel prepared to go to her spa visit, and as she walked out the door, she said, "Thank you! Thank you for having me. So far, I love it here!

It might be a while with this Spa visit. They said this would be a long first visit, and I think they are right." she said as she walked out the door.

RACHEL

Going to Mike and asking him to take me to Mexico was not a new idea. It seemed wonderful when he and other people talked about his time there. I started dreaming of the freedom and safety of being there months ago. I never spoke to him about it, though.

Self-safety, because over the last few years, my husband had become increasingly angry, raging out of control, injuring people, and yelling incoherently. As it got worse, I started putting money back from my sales of my flea market stall.

Let me explain about my flea market stall. We had a farm where we grew fruits and vegetables; I baked, canned, and did crafts. Everybody in the Mennonite community remarked on what a good job I did. I had sold a few things on the market days in the local town, off and on, when my husband was there selling, too.

One of the leaders of the church requested that I take other church members' items and mine to sell them at local events because I was able to talk to people and barter with them.

I started trying right after my daughter was old enough to come with me. She had to be able to mind and be partly self-sufficient while I sold our products.

In time, others came and tried to take over for me, as it was unseemly for a Mennonite woman to be selling so often alone in public, but no one seemed to be able to understand or work with the people who came to markets as I was.

So, with the leader's urging and approval, we opened a booth at the farmers market, where I had been selling for many different people in my booth for over 15 years.

About 13 years ago, Mike took over the booth next to mine. Where he sold all matter of items, they were always something unique or useful as he made different deals and purchases of one sort or another.

As people will want to do, you talk to the people working around you. He seemed to watch out for me with the few unruly people that came around. I knew he was unmarried and didn't have a steady relationship, so I gave him a few leftover food items at the end of the day.

We became friends as two different people from different societies can be.

I watched him make deals and be friendly with everybody, and I learned a lot from him and his friends.

When my husband's temper started to scare me and other people, I started to think about what to do about saving myself. I began to save back my money and, little by little, buy articles of clothing, unlike what I wore every day of my life, for something to wear if I had to leave and hide.

After leaving, when my daughter talked about "Me "Going English," I knew I had been right in my thoughts about what to do for a long time. The day that my husband hurt me for the first time, I knew it was time to leave."

So I gathered all the money I had saved and those few articles of clothing and drove to town. Sometimes, work was needed on the booth mid-week at the flea market, so it didn't look strange for me to go. I parked the truck somewhere where it wouldn't be quickly spotted.

I walked to Mike's house, scared he would refuse my request because I didn't have any other plans. As he reviewed the issues, it became harder and harder to breathe. When he finally said yes, I couldn't believe it!

When I went into the bathroom, I changed from what I had always worn into a tracksuit for the first time. I had worn coveralls a few times on the farm because of cold or harvesting, but this was so different that I felt very excited.

Then I took my hair down "in public "for the first time since I was four years old because my father and husband didn't allow me to wear the "Tea strainer hair cover" in public; I had to wear a full white bonnet.

Blushing hugely, I finally had to hide my hair under the back of my shirt and covered it with a baseball cap.

I felt scared and excited when I came out of the bathroom. I didn't quite know how to act, but Mike put me at ease, and everything was better.

As we drove away from town, with me hiding scrunched down in the front seat the first few miles and driving for three hours toward the border, I felt lighter and more at ease with each mile. During the drive, Mike told me more details of our trip as to where we were going in Mexico. I was thrilled.

When we stopped at his friend's house to spend the night, it scared me. I had known this man for years. But I didn't know what he would do to me, as I was far away from everybody and everything. I had heard stories, but I felt I could trust Mike, which is why I went to see him in the end.

Cutting my hair meant several different things. First, I had not had my hair cut since I was a child.

Being a Mennonite woman meant my hair had to be covered in public. This isn't easy when your hair is down to the middle of your thighs. Mennonite women only let their hair down to please and pleasure their husbands.

When we did a simple thing like going out to eat, which in itself was a huge deal to me, a huge treat as I had only been out to eat two or three times with Ben's family in Germany. I had eaten a few things at the flea market. Just sitting and eating the pizza while watching the people go by was nothing like I had ever done before. Not only was the food delicious, but it was fun to be having fun. It might sound simple, but it wasn't to me.

Going into the clothing store for the first time in my life was frightening, humiliating, and mortifying.

My father and husband did not allow me to buy underwear and clothes. I had made my own for twenty-eight-plus years. So, I didn't even know what size or what I wanted or needed.

Walking around and looking at what different women wore under their clothes shocked me. I know that at the flea market, I had seen a lot of women, for lack of a better term, on display. I had never been exposed to TV, been on the internet, or seen too many magazine layouts, stories, and such. So, I was unprepared for their typical ways of living.

Not only were there different types of underwear, styles, materials, and colors, but also all types of choices within each. Going from making my clothes with no choices into a world of differences was hard to handle.

I was saved by a middle-aged clerk who asked if she could help. I haltingly explained, "I had never bought underwear before."

She smiled and said, "I "Went English" 35 years ago with the boy I met, fell in love with, and ran away with. It's ok, and you'll adjust to it. My name is Donna." I told her mine.

She took me into the changing room and measured me. When she saw my homemade underwear, she and I blushed a little, and then we went out looking for my new underwear.

She asked, "Do you have the money to buy good underwear?" When I nodded, she took me to a section of the lingerie department and said, "Some people feel these are old-fashioned, but I think you'll like them if you're anything like me."

"You will find them very attractive. They are cut like the underwear of the late 60s. Women now wear a fourth of the material in public as a bikini and even smaller types of swimwear. I think these are beautiful and, for me, sexual.

They will make you feel much better about yourself and more confident. I suggest that if you can afford it, you buy two or three sets today and later try other types. With your coloring, I would recommend the off-white, black, and pale green sets."