Hiding in Plain Sight

Heather lifted the heart-shaped, white head covering out of the wooden drawer and held it up to the morning light pouring in through the window. The fabric was thin, but well-crafted, each stitch intricately sewn. Although the covering was light in her hands, it felt heavy. Heather knew its importance, the hundreds of years of Amish culture and heritage it carried; a culture not her own.

It had been two weeks since Heather was home in Washington, D.C. living the normal life of a mid-twenties post grad. Her days were filled with the excitement of Capitol Hill, working as a representative for a posh congresswoman. Her position was nothing more than a glorified note taker, but she loved every second of being in the heart of the nation’s decision making. Ever since she was a little girl, she dreamed of the city, and with a degree in political science, various government internships, and her newest role as a representative, life seemed to be going her way. But here she was, dressed not in her usual business attire, but in a modest cape dress and apron like a woman from the 1800s. She sighed, lowering her head, still clutching the head covering. If only she hadn’t seen…If only she hadn’t agreed to talk to the police, maybe she would be walking to the metro right now headed to Capitol Hill instead of getting ready to work on an Amish farm in Lancaster County.

“Heather, may I come in?” A kind voice asked from outside the bedroom. Heather looked up to see the youthful face of Rebecca, the Amish woman she’d be living with, peeking in through the open doorway. “How do I look?” Heather asked, holding her arms out wide to show off the light blue Amish cape dress. “You look very Amish,” Rebecca replied with a chuckle, “Except for…,” Rebecca walked over to where Heather was standing and gently placed her hands on her shoulders, spinning her around so she was facing the wall. “Let me help you with your covering. It’s not always the easiest to figure out.” Rebecca expertly parted Heather’s long, brown hair down the middle with a small wooden comb, twisted it into a long tail, and wound it around itself into a neat bun, securing it with a pin. She then reached around and softly took the covering from Heather’s hand, placed it on top of her head, securing it with two more pins so it wouldn’t slip, and let the long ties hang loose over her shoulders. “There!” Rebecca stated, proudly, “You are officially an Amish woman!”

Heather chuckled and lightly touched the top of her head, running her fingers down the stiff fabric of the covering. Suddenly, she became more serious, remembering the purpose of it all, “So, what happens now?” she asked. Rebecca took a deep breath, “Now, I teach you everything there is to know about how we live. If you’re going to blend in, you must know our ways. You remember what they told you at the agency, right? Who you are?” Heather squeezed her eyes shut, remembering all the information about her new identity she had learned over the past two weeks, “My name is Anna Yoder. I’m your distant Mennonite cousin looking to learn about her Amish roots. I’m visiting for the summer to help around the house and the shop while your mother is sick in the hospital.” Rebecca nodded approvingly, her blue eyes wide and hopeful, “Good. No one will bat an eye at a Mennonite woman in the community. An English woman living with the Amish would draw too much attention, but a Mennonite…many Amish have Mennonite family and friends. That would also explain why you don’t speak Pennsylvania Dutch. Do you have any questions before we start the day?”

The truth was, Heather had many questions. She had arrived at the Yoder’s home the night before under the cover of darkness, accompanied by an FBI agent. Rebecca had been there to greet her, waiting anxiously by the door. There had been very little pleasantries when they rushed in the house, a coat covering Heather’s head and upper body as not to be seen. “Make sure no one knows her true identity. If word gets out that Heather Falley is in Lancaster, you put all your lives in danger,” warned agent Bramhill, a dusky middle-aged man who reminded Heather of Doctor Evil. “Never say her real name in public. Do you understand?” He persisted. Rebecca, though seemingly meek in her Amish nightgown and almost childlike with her blonde hair parted in two braids, answered firmly and confidently, “I understand. No one will know who she is.” Heather remembered feeling a sense of ease at Rebecca’s sureness. After everything she had been through, it was nice to finally feel like she was somewhere that he couldn’t find her.

“What do you know…about me? About why I’m here?” Heather asked, staring down at her feet, almost ashamed. “Come, we’ll talk about it over coffee and breakfast,” Rebecca answered with an outstretched hand. Rebecca led her out of the bedroom and down the long hallway of the second floor. The morning sun cascaded down the staircase like spilled honey as Heather took in her surroundings. She had never been in an Amish home before, and she noticed that there were no photos or artwork, just a few simple decorations hanging on the walls. The house, though warm and homey, seemed empty, like people were missing. The two women entered the kitchen and Rebecca motioned for Heather to sit. The old, hand-crafted table was large, too large for just Rebecca and her mother. There were many chairs placed around it, even though it was clear many of them had not been sat in for some time. Heather examined the rest of the kitchen. There was a woodburning stove that also functioned as an oven, cast iron pans hanging on hooks above it, a hand-operated meat grinder in the far corner, and what Heather assumed to be a propane-powered refrigerator against the wall. The cabinets were a light brown stained wood that reminded her of a kitchen you might see in a log cabin. To her right was a beautiful, hand-carved wooden chest filled with various dishes and cutlery, and next to that by the back door were a set of hooks where an Amish man’s straw hat and various children-sized jackets were hanging. Heather found it strange, as there were no men or children living in the house.

“How do you take your coffee?” Rebecca asked, holding up a kettle. “Black is fine, thank you.” Heather replied, gripping the porcelain mug in front of her. Rebecca took a kettle off the stove and poured the rich, dark liquid into Heather’s cup. The aroma was fragrant, like the scent of an artisan coffee shop. “Smells good. It’s not like the Keurig I have at home,” Chuckled Heather, taking in a big whiff of the steaming hot coffee. “A Keurig…that’s like one of those fancy coffee makers the English use?” asked Rebecca, pouring herself a cup as well. “Oh, yea. I’m sorry, I forgot you probably haven’t used one before,” answered Heather. Rebecca walked over to the stove and opened the oven door, letting a puff of smoke escape. Heather could smell the fresh bread before Rebecca even pulled it out, “That smells amazing.” Rebecca smiled, “If there’s one thing us Amish do well, it’s baking. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone to bake and cook for. As you know, mother is sick and can’t eat most of our traditional foods.”

Heather felt a pang of sadness for Rebecca. She could tell she was lonely and that she was harboring a lot of stress. “What kind of illness does she have…If you don’t mind me asking?” Heather asked as Rebecca set the warm loaf of bread on the table. “It’s a very aggressive cancer. The pancreas. By the time she finally went to the doctor it was so advanced. She’s at the hospital now undergoing treatment. I go and visit her a few times a week, but it’s so hard to manage the house, the animals, and the shop by myself. That’s why…well I’m happy you’re here,” explained Rebecca with a mournful smile. She then placed a mason jar with fresh jam on the table, “Please, eat. Made the strawberry jam last spring. Best strawberries we ever grew.” Heather reached for the knife sticking out of the jar, “I’m really sorry about your mom. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I’m happy to help in any way I can…but, you do know what happened, right? Why I have to be here?” Heather asked, spreading a thick layer of ruby red jam across a slice of bread. Rebecca sat down in the wooden chair next to her, “The FBI agents told me that you witnessed a crime and that it wasn’t safe for you to stay in the city. They said the man was never caught and that it was possible he would try to find you. That’s why they put you in The HIPS Program.”

The HIPS Program. Heather had heard that term used dozens of times over the past two weeks since the incident, and each time it sent a wave of uncertainty running through her body. It was a new type of Witness Protection Program the FBI was trying out, and Heather was the guinea pig. HIPS stood for Hide in Plain Sight, as the individual who was in danger would be put in a community with limited access to the modern world. There, they would assume the identity of the community and live as part of their society until it was safe for the individual to return to their life. The FBI had made connections with several Amish, Mennonite, Orthodox Jewish, and Hutterite families across the USA who were willing to participate. They were all under some sort of financial or medical distress, and by participating in The Program, they would be compensated. Rebecca Yoder was the first “host” to be given a participant.

“I saw my roommate get murdered,” Heather stated shakily, her eyes fixed on the wood grains of the dining table. Rebecca’s face softened with sympathy and surprise, “I…I am so sorry, Heather. They didn’t tell me it was your roommate, only that you’d witnessed a crime.” Heather nodded, “They probably didn’t tell you much about it on purpose. The less you know the better type thing.” Rebecca sighed and grabbed Heather’s hand, “You can tell me what happened. I should know.” Heather turned to look at Rebecca, her face drained of color, “Are you sure?” Rebecca nodded, sternly, “Tell me.”

“It was a Monday night,” began Heather, “I had just worked twelve hours that day, so I went to my room to lay down and relax a bit. Anne, my roommate, stayed out in the living room to watch TV. We always watched this show called The Bachelor together, but I was so tired I decided to go to bed early. I put my air pods in, played some music, and fell asleep. I had only been asleep maybe twenty minutes or so, when a loud thud woke me up. It wasn’t a thud like someone dropping their phone, but like something large and heavy being slammed on the floor. I took my air pods out, and that’s when I heard the screaming.” Heather felt a lump forming deep in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, choking down her fear and sadness, “At first, I thought the screaming was coming from the TV, but after a few seconds I could tell it was Anne. They weren’t the kind of screams you make when you see a spider either, these were different…they were blood curdling, like someone was fighting for their life. I remember thinking it was a dream…I just couldn’t make sense of what was happening.” Heather paused before continuing, trying to gather the words to describe the terror of the ordeal, “I just stood there, trying to gather the courage to open my door and go help, but…I was frozen. My mind was screaming at me to help her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to open the door. Finally, after it had been silent for a while, I opened the door. I thought maybe Anne had scared off the intruder, but when I walked out into the living room, she was laying there choking on her own blood. It was like a nightmare…her throat was slashed, and she was laying in the middle of some sort of symbol he had drawn on the ground out of her blood. I ran to try and help her, but…there was so much blood.”

Heather buried her head in her hands, her silent tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the table below. Rebecca put an arm around her and patted her soothingly. Heather sniffled and took a deep breath, trying to continue, “That’s when I saw him…sitting in the kitchen, staring at us. He was sitting there watching her die, like it was a movie. I didn’t scream, I didn’t try to run, I was just frozen again, holding Anne while she spit up blood. His eyes were a pale blue and just…hollow, no emotion. He had this long, black hair and sickly white skin, like a ghost. He just sat there staring at us. That’s when I saw the knife in his hand covered in Anne’s blood. All the sudden, I heard police sirens outside the window. I gained control of my body again and made a break for the front door. I managed to run out into the hall and down the steps to the lobby of the building. I don’t think he tried to follow me.” Heather wiped a tear from her cheek, and her voice became stronger, “So, then the cops came in and said that someone in the building had called 911 saying there was a woman screaming. They could see Anne’s blood all over me and thought I had been attacked. It took me a few minutes to calm down enough to explain that it wasn’t me who’d been attacked, but my roommate. I stayed down with some of the officers while another group went up to the apartment. An ambulance had already been called and other cop cars started to pull up to help. I really thought they were going to bring the guy down in handcuffs and get Anne to the hospital…that she would be OK. Minutes went by, and still no man in handcuffs and no Anne on a stretcher. That’s when I heard them say over the police radio that the victim was dead, and that the apartment was clear. The guy got away.”

“Heather, that’s so terrible. I am so sorry,” Rebecca responded, still patting her arm reassuringly. “That’s not all,” Heather stated, leaning back in her chair to look Rebecca in the eyes. “I didn’t find out until they had taken me down to the police station that they found my wallet open on the kitchen table with my ID missing. That means he knows my name, my age…everything. That’s also when they told me he had left a message for me on the wall…written in Anne’s blood.” Rebecca’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth slightly agape, “What did it say?” Heather gripped her mug tightly, “I’ll be back for you.” The two women sat in silence, neither one knowing what to say. Finally, Heather shook her head and cleared her throat, “I’m sorry. That was a lot. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to back out of the program. I’m putting you, your mom, and the community at risk.” Rebecca placed a firm hand on Heather’s shoulder, “Never worry about that. I agreed to this. I know the risks. Also, I really don’t know what I would do otherwise. They’re paying for my mother’s treatment, and she’s all I have left.” Heather placed her hand on top of Rebecca’s and smiled, “Well, as long as you know what’s at stake...I guess we’re in this shit together.” Rebecca laughed, “First lesson about being Amish, don’t say ‘shit’ unless you want to get me shunned.”

To be continued...

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This is an idea for a story I’ve had for a long time but didn’t know exactly where I wanted to take it. I’ve always thought about how the Amish community would be a great place for someone to “hide in plain sight” and to escape the modern world. With no electricity, cars, and most importantly, social media, the Amish live so disconnected from modern society that it would make sense for someone to seemingly disappear by immersing themselves into their society.

So, where do I see this story going? I want Heather to experience Amish life and to experience a lifestyle completely different from what she was used to. The story will focus on her transformation from a big city girl to a “plain” Amish woman all while hiding from a psychopathic serial killer who is actively hunting her. I also want to dive deeper into Rebecca’s story and how she ended up in a situation so desperate that she had to seek help outside of the community to save her family’s business and home. What happened to her father and siblings will be revealed as the friendship between she and Heather grows stronger.

The big obstacles in the story will include other Amish folk who may have doubts about Heather’s identity, a potential love interest between Heather and a member of the community, and of course, the killer finding out where Heather is hiding.