by Amy Lillard
“Jah. Of course.” She gave her grandmother what she hoped was a convincing smile and headed out the door. She wouldn’t be gone long. Just long enough to call Buddy from the phone shanty and tell him about Thursday’s trip for groceries. If Mamm and Mammi went and she stayed at home, it would be the perfect time for the two of them to get together. Even better, she could hitch up her own horse and buggy and go to Buddy’s house. He wasn’t the only one who could be persistent.
Her smile grew even wider as she headed out the door.
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Mamm asked when Thursday rolled around.
Jenna nodded, but said nothing.
“I know you’re still mad, but you’ll thank me one day.”
She had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. How would she be able to thank her mother for taking away everything that she had that could possibly give her a normal life? Was that too much to ask? A man, a husband, a life mate, children. She should have all those things. Buddy too. They might not be like everyone else, but they could do the things that they needed to do in order to live the same life everyone else had. Why couldn’t her mother see that?
Or maybe the question was how to convince her mamm that she was able to have that life.
Jenna nodded and bent her head a little lower over her crochet yarn. She had finally gotten the hang of the pattern and had started with the real yarn she wanted to use. It was a soft green, warm and fuzzy. It might be hard to work on it when summertime really hit, and the afghan grew; it would be too warm. But until then she would work on it. And now, until her mother and grandmother were well and gone.
“Okay. I suppose you’ll be okay here by yourself.”
“Of course she will,” Mammi said. “You shouldn’t smother her so.”
“I don’t smother her.”
“Uh-huh.” Mammi made that noise she made when she didn’t believe what someone was saying.
“She’s my daughter,” Mamm said.
“And she’s my granddaughter. The last piece of Daniel I have.”
Daniel was Jenna’s father, and according to everyone she had his eyes, but she couldn’t remember. It was another one of those memories that were lost in the accident. They didn’t have any Englisch pictures. But there were times when she wished her mother wasn’t quite such a rule follower. Sometimes bending the Ordnung a little wasn’t so bad. Especially when a girl couldn’t remember her dat’s face.
“All the more reason to keep her safe.”
Jenna looked up in time to see her grandmother shoot her a sympathetic look. Then the two of them headed out to the tractor.
She moved to the front window and watched as they got ready to leave. Like most folks around Wells Landing, they had a trailer for when they needed to haul stuff. In their case it was the detached bed of an old Ford pickup hooked to the back of the tractor. They would go to the store and put the groceries in the back and bring them home. Sometimes Jenna was allowed to ride in the trailer, but not often.
She moved where she could see them but she thought they wouldn’t see her, and she watched as they cranked the tractor and pulled out of the drive. She needed to wait five full minutes before she hooked up the horse and got the buggy ready to go.
She had called Buddy and told him of her plans. She tried to be vague in case someone else got the message. She hadn’t heard back from Buddy, but she knew she wanted to see him. She just had to be patient.
Jenna paced the floor, counted to one hundred three times, then, unable to wait any longer, she went out to the barn.
It was the first time she had ever hitched up the horse completely by herself. Usually Mamm came behind her and checked her work, but Jenna knew what she was doing. Couldn’t Mamm see that?
“Let’s go, Blaze.” She led their black gelding with the white face to the buggy and hitched him to it. He snorted his pleasure, being let out of the barn and it wasn’t even Sunday. To Jenna traveling by tractor was so much faster, but the poor horse never got enough exercise when everyone went around in a motor-run machine.
She ran a loving hand down his long face and smiled at the beast. He really was a good horse.
Once he was secured to the buggy, she climbed aboard and set him into motion.
Wells Landing was a little more spread-out than Yoder, but she found the Miller house with ease. She pulled into their drive and her confidence plunged. Was she being too forward coming here?
She had no more than pulled up to the house when Buddy came flying out the door. He wore a huge smile and had one hand on his hat to hold it in place while he hurried to her. PJ, his puppy, saw her and started running, then saw him and changed direction. They crashed just to the side of Jenna’s buggy.
“You came.” Buddy’s grin was sweet and contagious, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She hopped down from the buggy.
PJ braced his paws against Buddy’s leg, seeking his master’s attention. Not getting more than a pat on the head, he wagged his way to Jenna and did the same with her. She patted his head and scratched him behind one ear, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Buddy.
Jenna smiled back at him. How could she not?
“I’ll unhitch your horse, and we can go on a picnic.” He reached out to help her down.
“Will we have time?” How long did it take to have a picnic?
“We’re going to make time.”
He led her to the porch, then settled Blaze in the pasture before coming back to her. “Ready?”
She stood, nodded. “Is PJ coming with us?”
“Of course.” He reached behind her and grabbed a basket by its handle. It was a regular basket with a towel inside covering whatever was in there, and Jenna was curious. “Let’s go,” he said.
“You’ve already packed us something to eat?”
“I was hopeful.” He took her elbow in his other hand and walked her across the yard toward the cornfield that sat so very close to the house. PJ trotted alongside them as they made their way.
“Where are we going?”
He led her down the small strip of grass between the road and the cornfield. “You’ll see.”
Buddy dropped her elbow so they could walk one in front of the other. PJ trailed behind, stopping ever so often to chase a grasshopper, attack a particularly vicious wildflower, and pee on anything and everything along the path. They picked along carefully until they came to a large crop of trees. It was strange to her since it sat between two cornfields.
“We’re going in there?” she asked, skeptically eyeing the trees.
Buddy stopped. “Do you trust me?”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Jah.”
“Then come on.”
It was cooler in the trees than out in the sun. They walked along a well-formed path strewn with leaves from autumns past. PJ sniffed here and there, and Jenna wondered if he was smelling bunnies or some other animal. She hoped just rabbits.
“Almost there.” Buddy took her elbow again and helped her into a small clearing.
In the center sat a small pond, with crystal water and packed dirt along moss-covered banks. A fallen log off to one side seemed to serve a purpose she had yet to discover.
“What do you think?” His hand slipped from her elbow to her fingers and squeezed.
“It’s beautiful.”
He nodded. “No one’s around right now, but in the afternoon, a few kids usually drop by.”
“Other people come here too?” It was so beautiful, of course they did.
“All summer long. Mostly youth groups and other young people. We swim and have picnics.”
“You swim?” Had her voice trembled? She hadn’t meant for it to warble like that.
“We don’t have to swim,” he said. “I thought this would be a good place to have our picnic.”
It was more than a good place; it was perfect. “I love it.”
He looked at her. Smiled. “You do?”
She nodded.<
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“Good.” He reached for his basket, then smacked his forehead instead.
“What?” she asked.
“I forgot the blanket.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’ll get your dress all dirty.”
She looked down at herself and back to him. Again today, no one had questioned what she was wearing, but today’s dress could only be considered her second-best after the ocean blue and her new purple. It should have been third, but the other two were tied as far as she was concerned. Today she had on a lighter blue that Mammi had picked out for her. She said it was the exact color of her eyes. Jenna wasn’t sure about that, but it seemed she got compliments whenever she wore it. Not from the other Amish people around her. Amish didn’t seem to throw around nice words like the Englisch, but someone at the grocery store or the post office would always say something. Perhaps Mammi was right about the color.
“It’s okay,” she told him again. “It’ll wash.”
He looked at her dress and smiled. “If you say so.” He turned away, then swiveled back. “I like the thread on the sleeves.”
She touched one with the opposite hand. “Thank you. Mammi used a special machine.” It stitched a little line of flowers on each sleeve just above the hem.
He nodded and started unloading the basket. He’d thought of almost everything. He’d packed cheese, applesauce, peanut butter spread, and homemade bread.
“This is the last of the bread we got at Esther’s,” Buddy said as she sank to the ground across from him. They were close, could almost touch, but the towel and the basket separated them.
He handed her a piece liberally spread with the peanut butter.
“It’s good,” she said after trying a bite. And it was. Esther’s baking skills were legendary in Wells Landing, but other than cookies, Jenna hadn’t tried anything else. Her grandmother liked to bake. Not that it bothered Jenna, but to her baking bread especially seemed like quite a time-consuming endeavor, especially when others were willing to do it for pay. Most times though, they bought it in the grocery store. Mammi said it was easier, but it wasn’t nearly as good.
“Mamm likes to get our bread at least once a week. Sometimes more, depending on whether or not we’re having company.” He smeared another piece of bread and tossed it away. PJ had been sitting patiently by Buddy, letting out a small whine every so often. Jenna had never seen a puppy such as PJ being so obedient and patient, but PJ was. Had Buddy been training him? He must have been. Once the bread was tossed, PJ ran after it and sat down with it to enjoy while Buddy got to work on his sandwich.
“He’s a good dog,” Jenna commented.
Buddy nodded and smiled at his puppy. “He’s a good boy,” he agreed.
“You’re good with animals.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“You were good with Blaze.”
“Your horse?” he guessed.
She nodded. “And PJ is very well trained.”
“Mamm was upset when I brought home a dog. It was either train him or have her give him to the neighbors.”
“You taught him a lot in just a few days.”
PJ trotted over, tail wagging with such force that his whole back end moved with each swipe. Buddy scratched him behind one ear. PJ sat and started scratching at some spot only he knew about. He let out a small whine as he flicked his foot across his floppy golden ear. Buddy chuckled.
“That’s because he’s a smart dog.”
“I’ve heard that about golden retrievers.” Though Jenna couldn’t remember who had told her they were smart dogs.
“There are smarter breeds,” Buddy continued. “But any smarter and he might crank the tractor and take it to town.”
Jenna laughed, then a moment of quiet fell between them. “You should work with animals.”
“I help Dat on the farm.”
“You helped him plant all that corn?” Jenna asked.
“Some of it.”
“The corn looks good, but I think you should work with animals.”
He gave the doggie one last pat, then turned back to Jenna. “I would like that. But Dat depends on me helping him each year.”
“I understand.”
“But if I could work with animals . . . there’s a farm over near Taylor Creek. Ezra Hein owns it. He’s my friend. He has a lot of different animals. Deer, bison, llamas, and even camels. But he sold them to another friend.”
“Camels are funny,” Jenna said. “I saw them in a book at the library. It showed how they chew.” She demonstrated with a piece of the peanut butter bread. She stuck her lips out and moved her jaw from side to side like she had seen.
Buddy laughed. “You do a great camel imitation.”
Jenna held out the rest of her peanut butter bread to PJ. “Thanks.” The dog snatched the bread from her and somehow managed to choke it down in one swallow.
Once it was gone, he took off toward the water.
“Buddy,” Jenna screeched as the biscuit-colored dog plunged into the pond.
She jumped to her feet and ran to the water’s edge. But she was too late. The dog had taken off toward the middle of the pond. That’s when she saw what he was after: A duck had landed in the center, almost taunting the pup.
“He’s going to drown.” Jenna turned back to Buddy. He had pushed to his feet and was headed toward her. But not the dog. He needed to save his dog.
“He’s not going to drown.” Buddy touched her elbow in a reassuring way. “See. He’s swimming.”
Swimming? She looked back at the water. The duck had taken off when the dog got too close, and now PJ was swimming for the far edge. But he was swimming. Actually swimming.
“Your dog knows how to swim?” she asked. “You taught him to swim?”
“Not really. He’s a retriever. His feet are webbed.”
“Like the duck’s?”
Buddy nodded. “He was made to swim. He loves it.”
“And you didn’t have to teach him? He just knew how to do it?”
“This dog, jah. I had a dog once—well, Jonah did—and we had to teach him to swim. He wanted in the pond, but he kept sinking every time he got in the water.”
Jenna chuckled. “Imagine. Teaching a dog to swim.”
Buddy shrugged again. “We all have to learn things.”
She supposed he was right. “I used to know how to swim . . . before the accident.”
“And you don’t know how any longer?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t remember.”
“Have you been back in the water since then?”
“Mamm doesn’t want me to.”
“But have you tried? Have you tried swimming at all?”
“Mamm won’t let me.” She said the words slower this time so maybe he would understand them. Her mother got her way whenever she wanted it, and if she didn’t want something the same thing applied.
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
“You already asked me that.”
“Did you tell me the truth?”
“I . . . not really scared, but . . . I don’t know what the word is. Maybe worried. And Mamm not allowing me near water doesn’t help. She made me take showers for the first three years after the accident.”
He chuckled. “It’s not funny,” he said. “But it is.”
“I know.”
He looked at her, then at the water. “Do you want to try it, Jenna?”
Her attention swung back to him. “Try getting in the water?”
“Jah. Of course. I’m here; the pond’s not that deep, Jenna. I can touch the bottom most of the way out. We don’t have to go that far. I’ll teach you to float again. All you have to do is get in the water.”
She looked at the water and back at him. So much of her wanted to say yes. She was tired of the accident controlling her life. “We don’t have swimsuits.”
“You could swim in your dress.”
She shook her head. “And go back in dripping clothes
?”
“It was just a suggestion.”
Why was she trying to talk him out of it? Because she was nervous. Unsure. But the time had come to be brave.
“I could go in in my underwear.” She couldn’t believe she said the words, but there they were. She could. But . . . “You can’t look.”
He had turned a bright shade of pink, almost the same color as the petunias his mother had planted outside their house. “I can’t teach you to swim and not look at you.”
She closed her eyes, nodded, then opened them again. “You can’t make fun.”
“I would never make fun of you.”
“And you can’t wear all that.” She gestured toward him from head to toe.
“I guess I could get in my underwear too.”
“It would only be fair.”
“Okay.” He heaved out a deep breath. “Turn around to undress?”
“Jah.”
They each turned around, and Jenna started to work on the pins holding the front of her dress closed. Her hands shook. From nervousness at getting back in the water after so long? Maybe. Undressing in front of Buddy? Probably. Or maybe it was undressing out in the open at a pond where other people could show up.
“Buddy?” She half turned, but not enough that she could see him. “No one’s going to come up while we’re here?”
“Probably not. Most everyone is at work. The really young kids don’t come by themselves.”
“So no one is going to see us?”
“I hope not.” He paused. “You can change your mind if you want to, Jenna.”
Did she? No, she didn’t. Going swimming felt like the first choice she had made on her own in a long time. “I want to do this.” She reached for the pins that held her prayer kapp in place.
“Okay. On the count of three we turn around.”
“No.” She hadn’t meant to holler so loud. “I mean. Can I get into the water first?” Maybe if she did that she would be covered when Buddy got in.
“By yourself?”
“No! I mean, you get in the water first and close your eyes, then I’ll tell you when I’m in, okay?”
“Okay, Jenna.” He didn’t sound like he was making fun.
She let out a small sigh of relief.
Jenna kept her back turned. The sound of shuffling leaves and water came to her, then Buddy called out. “Okay, Jenna. I’m in.”