The Stone Wall

by Beverly Lewis

  “Denki.” She was encouraged by his thoughtfulness.

  “The Lord is ever faithful,” Sadie said, carrying a large plateful of scrambled eggs to the table. Then she and Anna sat down to join Glen for the silent blessing.

  While they ate, Glen talked about their large family, with its many grandchildren, especially the greats starting to come on over the past few years. At one point, Glen asked about Anna’s grandmother Eliza, which made her think back to the days when Mammi and Dawdi Slaubaugh were young enough to come for an afternoon visit and to see the new ponies Anna’s father bred and sold. Dawdi would put Anna high on his strong shoulders and run around the backyard with her squealing, “Faster, faster!” He was the tallest man Anna had ever seen, nearly a giant in her childish eyes, and the world looked so different from high on his shoulders.

  Meanwhile, Mammi Eliza would sit with Mamm on the long back porch as Wanita brought out a big pitcher of homemade lemonade and poured it in paper cups for everyone. And sometimes, Mammi Eliza brought along little hard candies in her pockets for Anna and her siblings. After she left, the boys would trade candies among themselves to get their favorite flavors.

  Such happy times, Anna thought, enjoying the pleasant company of the Flauds. When the meal was done, they bowed their heads for a second silent prayer, and Anna prayed her own prayer for guidance.

  When Anna pulled into the parking lot at the Mennonite Information Center, she recalled Glen’s thoughtful words and Sadie’s encouraging remarks at breakfast. “They’re cheering me on,” she murmured, getting out of the car and making her way to the entrance, taking note of the lovely shrubs and blooming flowers. All the while, she did her best to calm the nervousness she felt.

  Inside, at the counter, a young blond receptionist wore a cup-shaped prayer cap and a silver name pin with Helen Weber engraved on it. She greeted Anna, then took her to the director’s office and introduced her as Anna breathed a prayer.

  The middle-aged director, Evelyn Leamen, was a pleasant and professional brunette, who gave a thorough overview of the work of a center tour guide. She also mentioned that two others were being interviewed for the same position. “We’re looking for the ideal person to represent us to tourists,” Evelyn said, tempering her words with a smile from where she sat behind her small desk.

  Anna tried to put her best foot forward during the interview and to be articulate and friendly. At its end, she offered her contact information, which included her cell phone number, as well as the address where she was staying.

  “Glen and Sadie Flaud are longtime friends of mine,” Evelyn said as she showed Anna around the center’s bookshop. “They speak highly of you and your family. I understand from them that you’ve been working as a tour guide in your hometown.”

  A few minutes later, Evelyn introduced Anna to one of the current tour guides, Martin Nolt, a tall young man with chestnut brown hair and hazel eyes. Evelyn asked him to take Anna downstairs to see the short movie on Mennonite history and life, as well as the other self-guided tour—a replica of the Tabernacle, built as described in the Old Testament.

  “What do you think of the place, Anna?” Martin asked as they headed down the hallway to the elevator.

  “It’s fascinating,” Anna replied.

  “And a little overwhelming, probably. It was to me at first.” He grinned.

  “Yes, a little.”

  “By the way, please call me Mart, okay?” he said. “Nearly everyone does.”

  Anna nodded. “We shorten names a lot in my family, too.” She mentioned her nieces Bonnie and Bethie, nicknames for Beulah and Bethany. “But I’m just plain Anna.” She smiled.

  “Plain Anna . . . I like that.” Pressing the button for the elevator, he chuckled.

  “No possibility of shortening that,” she replied, enjoying their light banter.

  The elevator door opened. “You must have married siblings if you have nieces and nephews,” Mart said.

  “Seven older siblings, jah. How about you?” Anna asked, stepping inside.

  “Six,” he said. “I’m fourth in the birth order.”

  “And I’m the last child,” she said, avoiding calling herself the baby. She didn’t like thinking of herself that way now that she was grown.

  As the door closed and the elevator descended, Mart pushed his hands into his tan trouser pockets and asked, “Are you from out of town?”

  “Jah, Mifflinburg. Ever been there?”

  “Once, but I was just a kid, so I don’t remember much.”

  “It’s a small town. But it does have a buggy museum, where I’ve been a tour guide for a couple of years since returning from Illinois, where I helped my aunt and uncle for a time.”

  Mart’s eyes widened. “Well then . . . you definitely have the right experience.”

  “I do enjoy meeting and talking with tourists. They always seem so curious, and they’re generally all-round nice folk.”

  Mart nodded agreeably. “And appreciative,” he added. “Thankful to learn about Plain culture, but even more thankful to still be English when the tour is over.”

  They shared a laugh as the elevator door opened to the lower level, and Mart motioned for her to exit first. “To be honest, I’d guessed you weren’t from around here since you hadn’t visited this place before.”

  “Well, I’ve heard about it, that’s for sure.”

  Mart walked with her to the large room where the free film about the origins of the Mennonites was shown on the hour. Afterward, as they toured the replica of the Old Testament Tabernacle together, Anna talked with Mart about his work there.

  “Ask me anything you’d like,” Mart invited. “I’ve been doing this for five years now, and I’m here to help.”

  Anna was glad to have this chance and pleased by his friendly attitude. He must have started in high school, she thought. “Denki . . . er, thanks. I appreciate it.” Her happiness at spending time with easygoing Martin Nolt surprised her, and she secretly hoped they would have the opportunity to talk again.

  Anna returned to the Flauds’ country home, her head awhirl with the interesting things she had learned. I think I’m a good fit for this job, she thought while parking her car close to the Dawdi Haus. She looked over at the lovely daylilies in Cousin Sadie’s flower garden, so brilliantly orange. Getting out of the car, she walked toward them, taking her time there in the sunlight, soaking in the calm beauty around her.

  Hopefully I’ll hear something from Mrs. Leaman later today, Anna thought, thankful again for the interview.

  ———

  Sadie Flaud had spent a good part of the morning rolling out dough for homemade noodles, making an extra batch to take to her ailing older sister, Eva Ebersol, whose memory had started slipping since a recent hip surgery. The surgeon had explained to Eva’s distressed family that anesthesia administered to older patients had the potential to permanently impair mental function, including memory. That this appeared to have happened to her beloved sister continued to worry and sadden Sadie.

  Thinking now of Anna and her interview, Sadie thought, I hope she liked what she saw. She lifted the lid on the kettle filled with chunks of tender chicken breast simmering in a rich broth. Anna deserves a little celebration while she waits for news. . . .

  She recalled Anna’s mother, Cousin Rachel, writing some months back about her daughter’s heartache over a once-serious beau. Young love can be painful, Sadie mused, remembering a few of her own children’s romantic struggles.

  Setting the table with extra care for this particular meal, she glanced out the window and noticed Anna strolling near the flower beds. Sadie went to fill tumblers with lemonade and remembered how drawn she had always been to Cousin Rachel’s youngest. Even as a little girl, Anna had been talkative and engaging, particularly when it came to the ponies her father raised for a living.

  Sadie moved back to the window and tried to guess what was on Anna’s mind as the young woman tilted her face toward the sun, a gentle breeze ruffli
ng her pastel blue dress, so different in style and fabric than Sadie’s own. She’s ponderin’ something. . . . Eager to build a relationship with her, Sadie hoped it was something Anna might share. It would be a treat to get to know her better.

  Truth be known, Sadie’s own two daughters were mighty busy with their large families these days, and there was little time for the long talks of years gone by. How she missed those one-on-one hours—her girls were young grandmothers themselves now. But she also loved being with her grandchildren and little great-grandchildren, too, each one just as respectful and God-fearing as any Amish Mammi could hope for. So far, every one of the grands who was old enough had either followed the Lord in holy baptism or was taking instruction to do so—heartening to any grandparent.

  Seeing Anna heading this way now, Sadie smiled, wanting to hear about the interview, if Anna chose to tell her about it. She had even tucked in a little prayer earlier around the time she guessed Anna might be sitting down with Evelyn.

  The familiar screech of the back door meant that her guest had come inside, and Sadie quickly went to meet her.

  Chapter 4

  While admiring Sadie’s flower garden, Anna had noticed a sloping expanse of land between the Dawdi Haus and the wooded area to the northeast. Several paths overlapped one another like shoestrings before disappearing into the distance. As she entered the back door and was ushered into the kitchen, she washed her hands at the sink. While she reached for the hand towel, Sadie urged her to take a seat, saying she was not to lift a finger for this particular dinner.

  Does she think I was offered the position? Anna wondered, thinking she should set the record straight right away.

  After Cousin Glen prayed silently over the meal, Anna spoke up. “Evelyn is going to let me know one way or the other about the job. She’s interviewing a couple of others, too, but I’m still hopeful.”

  “Oh, there’s no question in my mind you’ll get it,” Sadie said while dishing up a large portion of chicken and noodles on Anna’s plate. She then passed the bowl of buttered lima beans she’d frozen last summer, and next the dish of chow chow.

  Glen chuckled, then quickly cleared his throat. “Let’s not count on it, dear,” he advised his wife. “Anna should know for sure soon enough.”

  “Jah . . . true. But still.” And here Sadie beamed at Anna, seated across the table from her.

  Anna could sense they were both waiting to hear more, so she described much of what Evelyn had told her. Then she added, “And there was a nice young man, too, who showed me around the place. Maybe you know of him—Martin Nolt? He’s worked there for a while. A Mennonite fella.”

  Glen salted his noodles, then set the saltshaker down and glanced at Anna. “Well now, there are any number of Martin Nolts round here.”

  Smiling, Anna nodded as she enjoyed the yummy meal. The same names did have a tendency to keep popping up among even Mennonite Plain communities. She didn’t mention how surprisingly easy it had been to talk with Mart about nearly everything—they’d even joked a bit. “I’ll need to charge my phone in the car in case I get a call from the director later today,” she told them, forking up some noodles. “Such a delicious dinner, Cousin Sadie.”

  “Aw, chust call me Sadie.” She raised her eyebrows. “Okay?”

  “Sure, if that’s all right,” Anna said.

  Glen suggested that Anna get reacquainted with Luke and Marianna next door when she was ready. “It’s been some time since you visited, so ya haven’t seen their two youngest—Sally is all of two, and Baby Jimmy, three months.”

  “That’d be nice.” Anna thought of her own nieces and nephews back in Mifflinburg. If the job panned out, she would miss seeing them so often.

  “The older young’uns have the run of the place, as you might’ve guessed,” Glen said as he reached for his lemonade. “More than eighty acres.”

  “Which reminds me . . .” Anna thought of the paths that crisscrossed the land between the woods and the Dawdi Haus. “I noticed some paths on this side of the house. Are they walking trails of some kind?”

  “Oh, those.” Glen grinned. “I helped Luke’s school-age Kinner make those: Easy, medium, and hard they like to call them, though in Pennsylvania Dutch, of course. Often they stop by here to get snacks from Sadie to take out to their big tree house.”

  “Sometimes the boys even sleep out there on a warm night,” Sadie added, eyes twinkling.

  “You’ll have to have yourself a look-see,” Glen said, offering to show Anna. “It’s really somethin’.”

  “So, all of the paths lead to the same place?” She found this surprising.

  “Jah.” Sadie turned her fork in circles to pick up the noodles on her plate.

  “How far away is the tree house?”

  “Oh, several hundred yards into the woods.” Glen motioned in the general direction.

  Sadie added, “The children always take along their big watchdog, Brownie, even durin’ the daytime.”

  Anna frowned. “Why?”

  “Oh, in case there’s a bear or . . .” Glen couldn’t keep a straight face.

  “Ach now, Glen!” Sadie laughed.

  Smiling with relief, Anna enjoyed their friendly teasing. It reminded her a little of her pleasant time with Mart that morning.

  Later, during a dessert of cookies and homemade vanilla ice cream, she wondered why she couldn’t seem to get Mart out of her mind. After all, she had no idea if she’d even see him again, and she had convinced herself she would be more cautious before letting herself fall for another fellow. Anyway, it’s quite possible he’s seeing someone.

  At that moment, her phone rang. “Please excuse me.” She rose from the table to answer it, her pulse speeding up as she retrieved the phone from her purse.

  Is this Evelyn?

  Quickly, Anna opened her purse and removed her phone, seeing on the ID that it was her mother. “Hullo, Mamm.”

  “Your Dat and I are just sitting here, wondering how your interview went.”

  “And holding your breath?” Anna asked.

  “Jah, s’pose we are,” Mamm said, sounding serious.

  “To be honest, I am, too.” She filled her mother in, then promised, “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something, okay?”

  They talked a bit longer, and then Mamm said, “Wanita called to say Mammi Eliza’s been asking about you and your trip to Strasburg. Can you imagine?”

  Anna was indeed amazed. “Well, when I mentioned to Mammi that I was coming here, she seemed more lucid than she has for years. I’m shocked she remembered that conversation, though.”

  “Did she say anything else when you mentioned Strasburg?” Mamm asked. “Anything ’bout her time there with her Old Order great-aunt?”

  “She didn’t say much, really, but she seemed like her old self for a moment. She also said something about waiting for someone . . . ‘by the light of the moon.’”

  “That’s odd.” Her mother fell quiet for a moment.

  “Maybe she was just mixed up,” Anna suggested.

  “Well, call me when you hear about the job, okay? Love you!”

  “You too.” Anna said good-bye and clicked off.

  She returned to offer help with the dishes, but Sadie shooed her out the door with Glen, insisting that she could help at suppertime. “Go an’ explore the woods . . . see that big tree house,” Sadie urged her.

  “Okay, but first I must charge my phone,” Anna said.

  “That’s right. Don’t miss your important call.”

  Anna went to her car and started it, then plugged in her phone. While it charged, she went over to join Glen in the side yard where the footpaths started. Nearby was the birdbath, where abundant flowers made a brilliant perfumed tapestry, and several wisteria vines climbed up the side of the house. From down toward the road came the clip-clop of a horse pulling a carriage.

  “Which path would ya like to take: leicht, middelmaessich, or hatt?” Glen said, his straw hat on his head and his bla
ck work boots on his feet. He had grabbed a sturdy walking stick, as well, one that looked like it had been rubbed smooth.

  “Easy, medium, and hard,” Anna repeated in English. “Well, they all lead to the same place, right?”

  “True, but the hard one is longer and takes unexpected turns along the way,” Glen told her. “Just like life does sometimes.”

  Anna laughed at his analogy. “Then let’s take the most challenging path.”

  Glen slapped his leg. “I like your Schpank, Anna.”

  Spunk, she thought with a smile.

  While they stood there, waiting for her phone to be ready, he shared about his life in Strasburg, and she discovered that he was as determined as even her now-deceased Dawdi John had been. Hardworking, too, although Glen had quit working in the hayfield or raising crops and running the small turkey operation on his own several years ago when Luke and his family moved in. “I don’t admit to being retired yet,” he joked. The way he talked about working alongside Luke so glowingly, it seemed to Anna that work was something he relished. It might be his antidote for aging, she thought, remembering how Dawdi John had returned to working in the barn now and then when Mammi Eliza had first become so confused. It was only later that they’d received the shocking diagnosis.

  “What about you?” Glen asked. “You come from hardworkin’ folk.”

  “That was one of the most important things Dat and Mamm taught us early on,” Anna said. “Next to the importance of following God’s ways and respecting our elders, the rewards of hard work were drilled into us.”

  This seemed to go over well with Glen, who nodded his head approvingly.

  After a time, Anna glanced at her wristwatch and went to retrieve her phone, ready for their walk to the tree house.

  What if I don’t get the job? she thought but quickly dismissed it. There was no sense in borrowing trouble.

  Anna followed Glen, and within a minute they were out of the hot sun and heading deep into the woodland, a black crow cawing at them as they went. Despite the heavy shade from the many trees, at first the scent of the nearby farmland hung in the air. Soon, though, they walked past underbrush and thick ferns, and the dank, earthy smells of the woods blocked out everything else. She wondered if sunlight ever touched the low-growing underbrush. If not, how could it grow so profusely?