Breaking Silence Read Online Free PDF

the horror of that. I look at Mose. “Then what happened?”
    “We ran to the barn to help them,” he replies.
    “Who ran to the barn?”
    “All of us. Mamm. My brothers and sister.”
    “How did your mamm get into the pit?”
    Little Ike rubs his eyes with small, dirty fists. “She tried to save Datt. ”
    Mose cuts in. “She lay down on the concrete, right in all that muck, and tried to get Datt to take her hand. She was screaming for him to wake up, but he wouldn’t. She tried to save Uncle Abel, but he fell asleep, too. Mamm started to cry. She was too close to the edge and fell into the pit.”
    In the back of my mind, I wonder if she succumbed to the gases emanating from the manure and fell unconscious. “What did you do when your mamm fell in?”
    “We were scared. It was like a bad dream. Too bad to really be happening.” Mose lifts a shoulder and lets it drop. “I knew the air was bad, so we opened the door. We yelled at Mamm, tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t. The children were crying.” He looks at his younger brother. “That’s when I decided to bridle the horse and sent Samuel to Bishop Troyer’s house for help. The bishop has a telephone.”
    “What did you do after Samuel left?”
    “I kept trying to get Mamm and Datt and Uncle Abel out of the pit. I tried to use the hose, you know, as a rope.”
    I recall seeing the hose lying on the concrete, and I nod. “Were any of them conscious at that point?”
    Salome cuts in, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They wouldn’t wake up. We yelled and yelled, but we couldn’t get them to wake up.”
    “Why wouldn’t they wake up?” Ike whines.
    I glance over at the boy. Generally speaking, I’ve found Amish children to be slightly more stoic than their English counterparts. But kids are kids, regardless of culture. Most are unequipped to handle this kind of situation. Some grief is simply too heavy a load for such a young heart to bear. “It’s the gases that made them sleepy,” I say.
    “I want my mamm! ” Ike cries. “I want her back. Why couldn’t she just wake up? Why couldn’t you save her?”
    The accusation in his voice hits me like a slap. I know it’s only the grief talking. Still, I can’t deny there is a part of me that feels guilty for not being able to save them.
    Salome gets up from her place and goes to the boy. The sight of her setting her slender hands on his bony, shaking shoulders, and pressing her face against his cheek is so heart-wrenching that I have to look away. “Shush now, Ike,” she coos. “ Mamm and Datt are with God now. Remember that when your heart hurts for them.”
    The back door creaks open. I turn in my chair, to see my youngest officer, T. J. Banks, peek his head in. “Coroner is here, Chief.”
    I’d hoped Bishop Troyer would arrive before I had to leave the children to deal with the coroner. The bishop’s farm is only a couple of miles away, but he’s getting on in years and it takes time to harness and hitch a horse and cover that much distance. I look at T. J. “Can you stay with the kids until Bishop Troyer gets here?”
    “Uh … sure.” He eyes the four youngsters with trepidation as he sidles into the kitchen.
    I motion for Glock and Pickles to follow me and we head toward the barn. I’m midway there when I spot the coroner, Dr. Ludwig Coblentz, sliding out of his Escalade. Large medical bag in hand, he waits for me to approach.
    “I was hoping your dispatcher had somehow gotten the call wrong,” he says when I reach him. “I can tell by the look on your face that’s not the case.”
    “I wish it was.” I motion toward the house. “There are four kids inside who will never see their parents again.”
    “Kind of thing that makes you question just how benevolent God is sometimes, doesn’t it?”
    “Makes me question a lot of things.” Like why I’m still a cop when the last two cases I’ve worked have taken such a heavy toll. Don’t get me wrong; I love what I