* * *
One week later, Timothy stood in front of the school and wondered what had possessed him to accept the job when the school board offered it. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I’m no teacher.”
“You did it for the money.”
He spun around to see Lillian smiling at him. His spirits rose. “Nee, the salary won’t make me a rich man, that’s for sure, but this was a bad idea.”
“So why did you accept?” She had her books clutched tightly to her chest.
“I knew you could use some help.” It was true. He did want to lighten her load. More than that, he wanted to be near her. To see her smiling at him the way she was smiling now.
“I appreciate that, Timothy. Shall we go in?”
“Do I have to?”
“Well, you could stand out here the whole day. Or you could go home, but you wouldn’t be much help to me either way.” She started toward the door. Timothy took a deep breath and followed her.
Inside the building, he noticed someone had moved a scarred oak desk up beside hers. His desk. He really was going to go through with this. For one term. “Tell me everything I need to know before the children get here.”
She started laughing. He scowled at her. “What’s so funny?”
“I have been teaching for three years and I still don’t know all I need to know. You will do fine.”
Her belief in him bolstered his spirits enough to settle the butterflies in his stomach. “Can you at least give me some hints to get through the day?”
“Sure. Keep breathing.”
“I can handle that.”
“Relax. I don’t plan to throw you to the wolves. I spent six weeks working with the last teacher before she left to marry. You are simply going to be helping me while you learn the ropes. Things haven’t changed much since you and I sat in these desks. You already know the routine. What are some of your memories about school?”
He closed his eyes. “Getting here early enough to play ball for an inning before the bell rang. Putting my soup on the stove to stay warm until lunchtime. Copying the math assignment from the board. Saying the Lord’s Prayer. Standing up front to sing poorly. I hated that. Slipping a note to Jenny Holms asking her if she would go to a singing with me when we are old enough and praying I wouldn’t get caught doing it.”
“You liked Jenny Holms? I never knew that. Did she ever go to a singing with you?”
“Sure.”
“Who else did you walk out with?”
“Oh, I took a lot of girls home from singings in my time. During my rumspringa, I had a fancy open-topped buggy and a flashy fast horse. I even had a stereo installed under the dash of my ride. I rocked the whole country when I had it blaring.”
“I’m shocked. Absolutely shocked. I thought you were the quiet one of the Bowman boys.”
“I was. Our poor mother. You were in Wisconsin and missed all the fun here.”
“So it would seem. What happened to the buggy?”
“I sold it.”
“And the horse?”
“I still have her. She’s not so fast these days, but she is gentle. Did you do much dating in Wisconsin?” He realized they had never talked about their years apart.
“I did my share.”
“Were you ever serious about anyone?”
She sat down at her desk and propped her chin on her hand. “There was one boy. Arnold Weaver. He had red curly hair. We were in love for a few months.”
“What happened?”
“I was in love with him, but it turned out that he was in love with Karen Coblentz. Happily, I realized Karen was a much better match for him. It wasn’t true love for me, but it was for them. They married just before my family moved back here.”
“And there was never anyone else?”
“Not to speak of. How about you? Did you ever come close to marriage?”
“I didn’t. There are many fine Amish women in this community, but none of them made my heart beat faster. Maybe I’m too picky. That’s what Mamm says. Maybe I should settle for nice and be happy.”
“You shouldn’t settle.”
“No?”
“No. Find the one who makes your heart beat faster. She’s out there.”
He gazed into her beautiful green eyes. “You’re right, she is.”
A faint blush colored Lillian’s cheeks. Timothy hoped she knew he was talking about her. If she did, she gave no sign of it. Was he mistaken in thinking she returned his affection?
Was friendship all she wanted from him?
* * *
The first student came bursting in the door. It was Carl Mast. “Teacher, look what I made for you.”
He proudly handed Lillian a drawing of stick figures gathered around a campfire. One of the figures had smoke circling around his head. “This is my family. That’s Davey because he smokes now and Daed doesn’t like it. Daed won’t talk to him, but Davey says it’s okay if I do. Is it okay, Teacher?”
Lillian knelt to be on Carl’s level. “It is fine for you to talk to Davey. You are not yet baptized and the rules on shunning don’t apply to you. I’m sorry your father won’t speak to him. He wants Davey to come back to the church. We all pray for that, but each man must find his own way to God. Maybe that’s what Davey is doing.”
She glanced at Timothy and caught his nod. He agreed with her attempt to comfort the child and explain a difficult subject. Religion was not part of their school curriculum. That was the sacred duty of parents and church ministers. She looked at the picture and then at Carl. “I want you to go hang this with the other art work. You did a fine job.”
“Danki.” He smiled a gap-toothed grin, went to the corkboard behind her desk and pinned it up.
She looked at Timothy. “Would you erase the board and put up the new arithmetic assignment? I’ve written them out in the red notebook on my desk.”
“Of course. Carl, would you like to help me?”
“Sure.” The boy scampered to his side and began making big sweeps with the eraser as high as he could reach.
As the day went on, Lillian knew the board had made a wise decision when they hired Timothy. He moved among the children offering help, encouragement and praise. Twice he stepped behind Abe and stopped the boy from passing a note. He whispered something in the boy’s ear that she didn’t hear, but it was effective. Abe was as good as gold the rest of the day.
At recess, he joined the older children in a ball game and earned huge marks for his ability to hit the ball over the outfield fence. As the last student went out the door at the end of the day, Timothy sank into his chair and looked at her. “This isn’t the job for me.”
* * *
“Are you going to quit?” Lillian’s stunned expression told Timothy she had taken him seriously.
“I have said I would teach for one term. I’m not going to break my word, but I feel sorry for the kinder that will have to put up with me until summer.”
“You didn’t do so badly.” She sat in the student desk next to him.
“I didn’t do that well. There has to be someone better out there.”
“They did not step forward when the position was opened. You’re going to do fine. Give yourself a chance.”
“All of your students can conjugate verbs better than I can. I felt foolish trying to explain something I don’t understand.”
“Now you know how I feel about teaching science. I am woefully inadequate in that field, but I can conjugate with the best of them. Present tense. I see. You see. He sees. We see. You see. They see.”
“Right. So explain to me why everyone can see, but he/she/it sees.”
“English is a complicated language.”
“It is. It was. It will be.”
She s
miled at him. “Very good.”
“Only because Susan Yoder did it for me.”
“She’ll make a fine teacher someday, and so will you.”
“Can we go over the lesson plans for tomorrow? I don’t want to feel so flat-footed in front of the children again.”
“Of course. Pull your chair over here.” She scooted her chair to the end of her desk to make room for him.
“How long did it take you to learn all this?” he asked.
“I haven’t learned it all. I’m still discovering better ways to teach. I think the most frustrating thing about English is that so many words don’t sound like they look. I think I am teaching the right way to say a word only to find out later that I have been mispronouncing something for ages.”
“High German is much more straightforward,” he said.
“I agree.”
“Have you noticed how much trouble Hannah has reading aloud?” he asked.
“I’ve been working with her, but I can’t seem to find the key that will boost her confidence.”
“I’ve read that some children do better at reading to their pets than reading to other people. Have you heard of that?”
“I have. Do you think we should let Bella come to school?”
“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”
“Sure.”
She flipped open a ledger and found tomorrow’s date. “Your upper grades will study cell structure and write an essay on the subject at the end of the week.”
“At least that’s something I can handle.”
“I’m glad, because that is something that completely escapes my understanding. Why don’t we leak away if we are 90 percent water? What makes all our cells stick together in the same fashion every day?”
“We don’t leak because of cell membranes. They keep the fluids inside.”
She started chuckling. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“Do you realize how well suited to this job we would be if we could somehow combine us into one new and improved teacher?”
“I prefer to think we complement each other. Where I lack, you excel and vice versa.”
“It does seem that way.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
“We make a good team,” he said softly. He fought down the urge to reach out and touch her face.
“Yes, we do.” She sounded almost breathless now.
If he leaned in a little more, he could kiss her. Would she let him?
She pulled back and looked away. “That’s why you can’t quit. I need your help.
“I won’t quit. Not until the school board can find someone to replace me.”
She stood and gathered her books into her arms, holding them close to her chest. “I hope that takes a very long time. I knew I would enjoy working with you, but I must get home. Do you need a textbook to read up on your subjects for tomorrow?”
“That would be great.”
She moved across the room to the shelves that held the school’s library books. After scanning the contents, she selected a volume and held it toward him. “I have found this book to be the most helpful with science. It has some wonderful illustrations.”
Timothy tipped his head to the side at a new sound. “Do I hear a siren?”
Lillian listened. “I hear it, too. Not again.”
They went outside and turned in every direction. He couldn’t see any sign of smoke.
“Maybe it’s a medical call,” Timothy said.
Somehow he knew in his heart it wasn’t. As they stood in front of the school, the siren grew louder until the fire engine rounded the curve, heading toward the ridge. Luke leaned out the passenger’s side and shouted, “Weaver’s farm. Get on the next truck.”
Lillian clutched Timothy’s arm. “Amanda is spending the day with Granny Weaver. She lives in the daadi house at the Weaver place.”
“We’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.” He hoped it wasn’t an empty promise. The second, smaller fire truck came around the bend. It stopped to let him get on and then roared away.
Looking back, he saw Lillian running toward home.
Chapter Sixteen
Everyone in the Amish school was subdued the next morning, including the teachers. Lillian knew all the children had heard about the fire. Everyone was thankful there had been no loss of life. All fifty pigs had been saved, but the new hog house under construction had been a total loss. Lillian could see the unease on the young faces of those looking to her for comfort and guidance, and she wasn’t sure how to help them.
Amanda had refused to go to Granny Weaver’s home that morning. She sat at a small student desk beside Lillian’s large one. She was quietly coloring in one of her books, but Lillian noticed every page had been scribbled over with red.
Lillian sent Timothy a silent plea for help. She had already opened the morning with a Bible verse, the twenty-third Psalm, and the children had recited the Lord’s Prayer. Normally, she would have the children come up to sing, but today did not seem normal.
Timothy moved his chair from his desk and parked it at the top of the aisle between the rows of children. “Many of you know that I serve as a volunteer fireman. I helped put out the fire last night. I was wondering if any of you have questions that I might be able to answer.”
Susan Yoder tentatively raised her hand. He motioned to her. She rose to her feet. “My daed says the fire was started on purpose by an Englisch fellow riding a four-wheeler. Is that who did it?”
“No one saw who started the fire. Granny Weaver did see a fellow on a four-wheeler about twenty minutes before she noticed the smoke. It could’ve been that man. But maybe he was just out having a good time and had nothing to do with the fire.”
Hannah stood up. Bella, her yellow Lab, lay quietly beside her chair. “I wish you and my daed wouldn’t go to the fires anymore. I heard my mamm say it’s getting too dangerous.”
“A fire is a dangerous thing. But your daed and I and all the other firemen are very careful. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Why do the Englisch hate us?” Abe asked.
“The Englisch do not hate us,” Lillian replied.
“Then why are they starting all these fires?” Gabriel demanded.
“My mamm says she isn’t going to sell any more quilts to them,” little Marietta Yoder said with a fierce scowl on her face. Her older sister, Susan, hushed her.
Timothy laced his fingers together and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “We must not hold a grudge or blame everyone for the acts of one or two people,”
“He is right.” Lillian moved to stand beside him. “We must forgive those that trespass against us. Isn’t that what we say when we repeat the Lord’s Prayer? Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. We do not punish or condemn. That is not our way.”
“What should we do?” Susan asked.
“We must do as we have always done. Take care of one another and trust the Lord to guide and protect us. We must be kind. We must be gentle in the way we live and humble before God. Our Lord has a greater purpose for each one of us. If we are quiet in our hearts, we can hear His will and obey.”
Timothy stood up. “All right, fourth-grade class, I need you to take out your spelling workbooks. We are having a pop quiz.”
Lillian heard a small groan from the class but decided to ignore it. She beckoned to Susan Yoder. “For reading today, I want each of the second graders to go to the chair I have set up in the back corner, and each of them is to spend fifteen minutes reading to Bella.”
“To the dog?” Susan looked as if she hadn’t heard correctly.
“To the dog. The students are to raise their hand if they don’t know a word. Otherwise, they are simply to read aloud. They may choose any
book they would like.”
“Why?”
“It’s an experiment.”
“It’s kind of silly, but okay. Is the dog going to be tested over what she has heard?”
Lillian cupped a hand over her chin as if she were considering the idea. After a few seconds, she smiled and shook her head.
Timothy winked at Lillian before he turned to Susan. “I’m afraid the dog would score higher than the rest of us, and that wouldn’t look good on our year-end report.”
Lillian burst out laughing, and Timothy joined in. Susan walked away shaking her head at their foolishness.
* * *
Over the next two weeks, Timothy found his footing in his new job and began to enjoy it. Each hurdle that one of his students overcame filled him with joy. Abe had stopped pestering the younger children. Once Timothy realized Abe was bored with schoolwork that was too easy for him, he started bringing him harder and harder assignments. He looked forward to the spring when he and the upper-grade boys would be doing real-life problem-solving for Brandon’s project.
Often during the day, Timothy would catch Lillian watching him with a tiny smile on her face that told him she was pleased with his progress. Although he once thought he would be able to spend a lot of time with her, forty-two students turned out to be incredibly efficient chaperones. At best, he and Lillian had a few minutes before the students arrived and a few minutes after they left to enjoy each other’s company. Even that time was often spent discussing new lesson plans and potential curriculum changes for the coming year. She had to hurry home to take care of Amanda and run her home, while he had to put in several hours in his father’s workshop.
His younger cousins Mark and Paul Bowman had arrived the previous weekend. While they didn’t have a great deal of skill as woodworkers, they had a lot of enthusiasm.
Like everyone else, Timothy and his family were on edge wondering when and who the arsonist would target next. Distrust of their Englisch neighbor’s was growing within the community. The Hansons had been the only non-Amish family targeted. The investigation by the fire marshal was ongoing, but he divulged little or no information, further frustrating the Amish.
His Amish Teacher Page 14