by Jerry Eicher
“Thank you,” he whispered toward heaven, but he felt awful inside.
Why was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on not for him? Dat’s passing was apparently only the first sorrow which the Lord saw fit to lay upon his heart.
CHAPTER 8
LATER THAT DAY, MARY STOOD BEHIND HOME PLATE AS BETH, ONE OF her sixth-graders, positioned herself on the pitcher’s mound and prepared to send the softball towards home plate. Happy voices filled the playground, even when everyone knew there wouldn’t be time for a proper game in fifteen minutes. This was practice for the younger students while Laura and the other eighth-grader, Lamar, gathered near second base to choose sides for their lunch-hour game. The whole school was into softball, including the chairman of the board. Elmer had opened classes with a brief morning devotions at nine, and stayed for the first recess period.
“Take a tight grip,” Elmer instructed young Gerald. “Keep your eye on that ball, and swing the bat hard.”
Gerald appeared intent, his small hands tightly wrapped on the bat.
“This brings back memories of my own school years,” Lucille said, standing at Mary’s elbow. “School was such a learning experience for me, and fun at the same time.”
Mary nodded, and kept her eye on Gerald. He leaned back as the pitch came towards him and swung vigorously. There was a solid whack, and the ball flew high towards second base.
“Run, run!” Elmer hollered to Gerald.
The boy propelled his small body towards first base, his knees pumping high. With all the yelling, Lamar paused from picking his next team member and took a few steps forward to catch the fly.
Elmer was waving his arms at Gerald, who had slowed down. “Run, run! Don’t stop!”
Dale, another of the sixth-graders, guarded first, and easily caught the toss from Lamar.
“Out!” Dale declared.
In obedience to Elmer’s instructions, Gerald still raced across first base, and Dale stepped aside to let him pass.
“Good job, good job.” Elmer poured on the praise. “That was a great hit for a first-grader.”
Gerald beamed with joy upon his return to the home plate area. Elmer slapped him on the back, while Mary opened her arms and gave him a hug.
“That was goot,” she told him.
“You are great with the children,” Lucille whispered in her ear afterward. “I can see that the school board made an excellent choice.”
“Thanks.” Mary ducked her head.
She didn’t deserve the praise, even if things were going well. This was the Lord’s doing, and not her own.
Ezra, a fifth-grader, was up to bat, and Elmer was cheering him on.
Ezra hit a grounder and made the run to first base.
“Teacher’s turn,” someone hollered.
“I can wait,” Mary protested.
But Elmer held the bat high, with a big grin on his face. “I think the teacher should bat.”
“Okay.” Mary gave in. She took her place at the plate, and Beth prepared to pitch.
The ball floated gently into the air, traveling towards home plate. Mary focused. She had done this a hundred times at home, and softball was still softball even in a new community. She swung and the whack felt solid. The ball sailed high into the air, and she was off running, without keeping track of the progress. That was the way to play softball. From the yelled instructions on the field, things would be close. Ahead of her, Dale had his glove outstretched, but the ball had not yet arrived.
She raced across the base before the ball thudded into Dale’s glove, and a cheer went up. “Teacher made it!”
“Nice play!” Dale complimented her. Mary bent over on first base, trying to catch her breath.
Beth was ready to pitch again, when Mary remembered. “I have to ring the bell.”
Dale groaned. “So soon? Can’t we have a few more minutes?”
Mary gave him a smile, but didn’t bother to answer. Rules could be ignored later in the year, but not on the first day of school.
Mary left first base and headed inside. The clock on the wall read 10:44. There was a minute to spare. Mary pulled on the bell rope to send the loud clangs across the schoolyard. She returned to the door, watching the students race back towards the schoolhouse.
Elmer and Lucille came as far as the door, where Elmer extended his hand. “The Lord’s blessings to you. We have been privileged to spend time with you this morning. That was a great ball game.”
“Thanks for coming,” Mary told him.
Lucille leaned close and whispered, “I’ll be praying for your school teaching.”
Mary braced herself for yet another comment about Marcus, but mercifully there wasn’t one. Phew. Perhaps she had managed to set Lucille straight on that matter after all. She entered the schoolhouse to find everyone in their seats. A few students were already busy with their paperwork, the others just settling in.
“Sixth-grade reading class,” she announced, and Beth and Dale grabbed their papers to head towards the front.
When she arrived at her desk, Mary pulled out the teacher’s chair to swivel closer to Beth and Dale, who were seated across from each other on the benches.
Mary took the time to praise Beth. “That was great pitching.”
“Yah, it was,” Dale added, and Beth’s pretty face blushed bright red.
The two glanced at each other quickly, and Beth’s embarrassment increased. Obviously, Dale and Beth were sweet on each other. Oh, the wonders of falling in love in the sixth grade.
“Open your books,” Mary told them, and the reading began.
Marcus let his team rest at the end of the field, his eyes fixed on the empty schoolyard. Not moments before, the playground had been filled with school children, his five siblings among them, getting ready for a softball game. The faint whack of the bat connecting with the ball had drifted across the fields. Hearing the sound, he had brought his team to a halt at the end of the row. Mary had stood at home plate, directing the action. She had also taken a turn at batting, and had made a great hit. He had not expected that of her. He had a difficult time imagining a girl who owned a shimmering suitcase swinging bats, or racing around bases in a softball game. But Mary had been doing exactly that. He had watched in wonder. She was an odd one, that’s for sure.
Marcus broke himself out of his reverie to slap the team’s reins and holler, “Time to go. Get up.”
They lumbered forward, two stout Belgians who leaned willingly into the traces. Mose operated the second plow at the other end of the field and waved towards him as if to cheer him on with his fruitless fascination with Mary. The plow sliced the ground beneath Marcus, cutting into the earth with a soft hum of sound. He could usually drive the plow the whole day with nothing but peace in his heart, but today he felt restless and disturbed. Memories of his schooldays rushed through his mind, vague images of softball games played in the coolness of the early fall, and even in the cold of winter. He hadn’t thought about softball for a long time. Life had seemed too serious for such lighthearted memories. The days when he had held a bat in his hands were a distant memory. Now he had to think like a man, about his duty and responsibilities, about work from sunset to sundown. There was something soothing in hard labor, a settling down of the sharp agony in his heart that wanted to rear its head, even after these long years since Dat had left for glory.
Apparently the Lord had needed Dat more than his family had needed him. That was the only thing that made sense, but even that explanation didn’t heal the hurt completely. Mam was also still in pain, but was moving on. After her date with John Beachy yesterday afternoon, the man had stayed for supper. That bode well for the couple’s future. Mam planned to wed the man. He could tell from the look of determination on her face this morning.
Mam would not be unhappy with John Beachy. He was kindhearted enough, but he wasn’t Dat. Nothing could change that. Mam was forcing Marcus to make his own decisions, which was partly intended, he supposed. He just w
asn’t going to make the ones Mam wanted him to make. There was no woman in the community he wished to date. Mam had surprised him the other evening by saying she wanted to sell the farm, and she hoped he would buy it. John wanted to continue to live on his own farm, so if things continued as planned, she would move in with him, along with the younger children, after the marriage. Although Mam didn’t state it explicitly, she hoped he would find a wife to settle on the family farm with him.
There was another option that hadn’t been discussed. Marcus could buy the farm and live there by himself, but it was a lonely proposition after he had borne the load of his family’s care for so many years. Did the Lord have something against him? Here he was, single, with no prospects of dating, and about to have a farm on his hands. He would have to square his shoulders and bear the hand life dealt him. Bitterness against the Lord’s ways was never right, no matter how difficult those ways were to understand.
As the end of the field came up, Marcus pulled back on the reins. He expertly lifted the plow out of the ground and turned the team around. The soft thud of their hooves and the hum of the plow settled around him again, but peace did not come. The vision of Mary running towards first base danced in his head and wouldn’t go away.
By five o’clock that evening, Mary finished checking the day’s papers, and rose from her chair to stretch both arms high into the air.
“My, what a day!” she exclaimed as a great happiness filled her heart.
The students had been so well behaved, and the time Elmer and Lucille had spent with her in the morning had been such a blessing. She was sure they approved of her school teaching. Not that she doubted herself, but reassurance was always a comfort to the heart.
Mary gathered up her satchel and banked the fire in the stove. With the warm day, there hadn’t been a need to add further wood to the fire since lunchtime. A few coals still glowed among the ashes. Did Marcus stop by in the evenings to check on things? He was mysterious about his comings and goings. She would have to insist on better communication when she saw him next.
For now she would assume that the responsibility to close down the place lay with the teacher. That had been the method used in her prior school. Marcus probably figured she was a babe lost in the woods, and knew nothing about stoves and gas lanterns.
Mary made a face at the schoolhouse door. The man knew little about her. Through the windows she had seen Marcus and his brother Mose working in the fields, but the teams had left for the Yoders’ barn moments ago. She was glad of that. With the classes in session, she hadn’t thought about the close proximity of Marcus’s critical eye, but when she walked home, Marcus could see her across the open fields. There was no sense in enduring more of the man’s negative opinions. She was sure he was thinking plenty of them. She wondered if Marcus saw her hit that fly ball during the first recess, and if he had watched her race towards first base with her dress flying. She hadn’t felt anything but approval from Elmer or Lucille, who had been standing right there. Why should she worry about what Marcus thought of a schoolteacher who threw herself into a softball game?
Mary locked the schoolhouse door behind her. Well, she wouldn’t worry. That was that. Who was Marcus Yoder that his opinion on how she played mattered? He likely thought her undignified and unwomanly. Mary stared down at her dress, disheveled after the ball game and the day of school teaching. Oh well, she couldn’t please everyone. She raised her head in the air and marched down the road towards Leon and Lavina’s home.
When the Yoders’ supper had been eaten that evening, Marcus crossed the fields in the darkness and unlocked the schoolhouse door. He used his flashlight to check the stove and found the fire properly banked. There was no lantern on the ceiling hook, so he checked the closet. The light sat in its proper place, with the air handle tightly closed.
He went into the basement, but nothing was out of place. The ping pong table hadn’t been used today, so everyone must have played softball outside. He couldn’t remember Susie being able to lure all the students out onto the ball field, but Susie wasn’t Mary. The woman must have charmed the whole schoolhouse.
Marcus went back up the steps and closed the schoolhouse door behind him. He walked slowly across the fields, the lights twinkling at him from Leon and Lavina’s home. He wished the Lord would send him a woman he could admire and respect and love. Mam would need an answer about the farm soon, but uncertainty filled his heart. Living there alone seemed awfully hard, but neither did he wish to see the place sold to a stranger. Why hadn’t God provided him with a good woman to be his companion and partner? Well, he would not complain, but accept what the Lord gave with a broken and humble spirit. That was the way of the community, and the way of the Lord.
CHAPTER 9
MARY OPENED THE SCHOOLHOUSE DOOR ON THURSDAY MORNING with a smile on her face. In spite of a few students’ having headaches yesterday, things were going fairly smoothly through this first week. The headaches had been handled in stride. She had been authorized to dispense Ibuprofen, and had found some in the closet medicine cabinet, along with bandages and tape, which Mary hoped would never be needed. Blood was not something she handled well. She might end up on the floor beside the injured student—unconscious. The parents would likely sympathize with a teacher who fainted, but why tempt fate. Better to run a well-organized school where injuries didn’t happen.
There were two days left in the teaching week. On Saturday, she would catch up on her school papers and prepare the lessons for the following week. Sunday would be a much needed day of rest, when she would listen to the sermons and receive the spiritual nourishment she needed.
Mary closed the schoolhouse door slowly behind her. She wanted to linger, but clouds had gathered in the sky, as she knew they would, and rain threatened. There had been no repeat of the glorious sunrise that hung in the sky on Monday morning. From the looks of things, the children would have to forgo their beloved softball game today and play in the basement. The same might be true for tomorrow if the ball field remained wet. Well, that couldn’t be helped. She didn’t want muddy boots tracking through the whole place, and worse, for her students to return home with mud-smeared pant legs and dresses bespattered with the muck from the playground. Better to face the students’ grumbling and keep them inside. The mothers of the community would understand the frustration of pent-up young people better than extra dirty wash on Monday morning.
Mary went up the inside steps and was greeted with the usual warmth from the stove. Marcus had been here, as he had been each morning. He must slip away moments before she came down the road from the Hochstetlers’ home, she realized.
Why had such a man been placed in her life? She didn’t object to the presence of decent men, but Marcus was beyond the pale. Perhaps the Lord had placed this trial in her life to purify her for the love of a real man. Once married, she would look back at Marcus’s criticisms with thankfulness in her heart for the pain his disapproval had brought her. In the meantime, she shouldn’t be bothered by the man, but in spite of her best resolutions, she was. Possibly because it seemed like everywhere she went, someone was reminding her what a good, hardworking, handsome, available man he was. Was she the only one who had seen his faults?
Mary walked over to the window and waved at the first buggy that had pulled into the driveway. Another one followed close behind. Laura and Beth hopped out. Laura busied herself unhitching, while Beth took the time to wave back. Beth was such a cheerful girl, not unlike herself. She had to resist the temptation of having a teacher’s pet. With Beth, that would be a struggle. The Lord had blessed Mary with a schoolhouse full of lovely students, but some were lovelier than others—that’s just how it was.
Mary went to open the front door and waved towards the road when Lavina’s buggy went past, headed into West Union for a day of shopping.
“Send up a little prayer for me,” Lavina had requested of Leon at the breakfast table. “You know I’ve never enjoyed driving into town by myself.”
Mary closed her eyes for a second, and whispered a quick prayer. “Be with Lavina today, Lord. Keep her safe.”
Mary opened her eyes to see Beth running up the incline, her lunch bucket flying. Mary opened her arms for the girl and pulled her close. “How are you this morning, sweetheart?”
“Okay.” Beth beamed up at Mary. “Laura got another headache on the way to school.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Mam wanted Laura to stay home,” Beth said, “but Laura thought she could make it through the day.”
“Well, that’s a brave girl.” Mary patted Beth on the back. “Run inside while I greet the others.”
Beth ran off, waving over her shoulder and disappearing into the schoolhouse. Mary glanced towards the heavens. The clouds overhead appeared thicker than they had when she had walked up earlier from the Hochstetlers’ home. Maybe the rain would hold off until the students had arrived and were inside. More buggies were coming into the driveway, so no one would be late, from the looks of things.
Mary met Laura coming out of the small barn. “How’re you doing?”
Laura tried to smile. “I’m here.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t have stayed home?”
“Mam said there is a flu going around, but so far it’s been just headaches.” Laura shrugged. “I believe we have more Ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet. I’ll live. I don’t want to miss a day’s school the first week. Those are the hardest to catch up with.”
“That’s wise, I guess.” Mary smiled. “We’ll try to keep it a peaceful day then. What with the rain we’ll probably stay inside.”
Laura made a face. “Sorry for the others, but I won’t be playing softball, that’s for sure. Rain or no rain.”