by Linda Byler
“They have a beautiful farm,” Mandy said as they approached the well-lit house.
“I know,” Lizzie said. “That’s because their house is bigger and better than ours, and it has classy white shutters on it.”
“They have more money than we do, don’t they?”
“Probably. Yeah, I’m sure they do.”
The Kings’ red brick house stood like a sturdy sentinel in the night with warm yellow light radiating from the windows. Isaac King, Sara Ruth’s Dat, finished up his evening milking in the glowing barn. He helped Lizzie unhitch Bess beside the big new cow stable with a rounded roof and the two new silos which towered over the other buildings.
Through the darkness, Lizzie could see a bonfire burning down by the pond next to a line of willow trees. On the pond, dark figures dashed across the ice, while others huddled around the bonfire. Lizzie shivered with cold and something almost like fear. For one wild instant, she felt like hitching Bess back up again and heading home as fast as she could.
“M … Mandy!”
“What?”
“Aren’t you … I mean … don’t you feel afraid, or … shy or anything?”
“Kind of, yes. But we won’t for long.”
Sara Ruth and Sharon came running towards them, calling their names.
“It’s so good to see you again,” Sara Ruth gushed as she linked her arms in theirs. “You’ll have to meet our cousins. And, oh yes!” She let go of their arms as she skipped forward, then turned to face them as she walked backward. “Do you know that new Beiler family who moved in from Allen County?”
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know. Their oldest boy is 16 already. They have a girl about exactly our age named Anna.”
“Are they coming tonight?”
“Probably.”
They reached the pond where they met Sara Ruth’s cousins from Lamton. These girls were perfectly thin and so pretty, Lizzie could only stare at them. They wore pretty colors in the latest style, and their hair was combed so beautifully, Lizzie could only hope to be able to comb herself half as neatly someday.
They look like little dolls, Lizzie thought miserably, feeling very much like the fat little country mouse being shown the trim city mouse. But the cousins, Linda and Louise, smiled so honestly, welcoming them so sincerely, that Lizzie soon forgot about being self-conscious.
Joe and John skated up to the bank, their grins welcoming the girls to the pond.
“Did someone help you put your horse away?” John asked.
“Your dad did.”
“Good!”
And they were off, racing across the pond with a few of their smaller cousins.
The girls sat down on the straw bales and pulled on their white socks.
“Do you always wear white socks?” Sharon asked.
“Yes, to go skating.”
“That looks nice.”
Sara Ruth started giggling, saying she never even thought about wearing white socks to skate. She was going to bring a bunch of the twins’ socks down to the pond. Then the girls were off, leaving Lizzie and Mandy to put on their skates.
They were still struggling to lace up their skates when a dark shadow hovered over them. Lizzie looked up from tying her skates at a tall, thin guy standing beside the fire, holding a pair of black skates.
“Hi,” Lizzie offered.
“Hello. Are John and Joe here?”
“They’re skating. Oh, there they are.”
A grin spread across the boy’s face as the twins swooped up on the bank, almost colliding with the youth.
“Stephen!”
“Hey!”
So that was his name—Stephen. Lizzie glanced at him sideways. His hair was way too long in the back, and his bangs almost fell over his eyes. His eyes were big, huge, actually for a boy, and a light baby blue. Long, dark lashes surrounded them, unlike any Lizzie had ever seen. She wondered why he didn’t get his hair cut.
Girls swooped down on Lizzie and Mandy like a bunch of blackbirds in the fall. Lizzie couldn’t help giggling. Sharon pushed Lizzie over on her hay bale and started pulling on a pair of socks. Stephen stood watching in his eerily quiet way.
“You sound like a bunch of wild geese,” he said.
“Where’s your sister, Stephen?” Sara Ruth asked.
“Too cold for her.”
“You should have brought her. Lizzie and Mandy don’t know her yet.”
“They’ll see her in church.”
And with that, Stephen moved off as quietly as he had come. Lizzie burst out, “He’s different! He’s so quiet, he gives me the creeps.”
Lizzie jumped up and skated onto the pond. She threw back her head and laughed. She loved skating with all of her heart, and this was the first ice-skating of the season. She didn’t think about boys or fancy girls as she glided across the ice with wings on her skates. She twirled and turned, skated sideways and backward, warming to the thrill of being alive.
Suddenly she heard girls clapping and cheering from the bank. She slid to a stop.
“What?”
“Can you ever skate!” Sara Ruth called.
“Show-off!” Sharon teased.
Lizzie laughed happily as Mandy, who was even more graceful because of her slight form, joined her. They skated together until the boys hooked arms with them, and they all met in the middle of the pond and decided to play Freeze Tag.
This was one of the best nights of Lizzie’s whole life. The stars were so close she could almost reach out and grasp one. The air was sparkling cold, burning her nose the way it did when she drank Pepsi and then burped.
Stephen was an extremely fast skater. No one could escape once he decided to pursue them without mercy. Joe chased her a lot during the evening. Maybe he might someday like her without Viola around. Who knew?
Lizzie’s heart was light. She was chased and held captive, dipping and swaying, breaking free, being caught again, all under the light of the too-close stars. Before Lizzie had even begun to tire, Sara Ruth announced that her mother would serve an evening snack just as soon as they went to the house. Lizzie wanted this evening to go on forever, this perfectly crisp, thrilling, heartfelt, starry, wonderful evening on the ice.
Inside the house, Mrs. King had all kinds of delicious food for the skaters, which helped ease Lizzie’s sense of disappointment about leaving the pond. The dining room table was filled with big thick slices of homemade pizza piled high with cheese and browned ground beef, root beer in glass mugs, crackers, pretzels and potato chips, and warm chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
Sara Ruth beamed, Linda and Louise flitted about like rose-colored parakeets, and Sharon giggled in a corner with Mandy. Stephen was quite shy, staying well away from the bright gas lamp in the kitchen. Lizzie wished her family could have a skating party at their house. They had the creek that was perfect for swimming in the summer, but no pond on the old farm for ice-skating.
When the evening finally ended, they all walked to the barn to hitch up their horses.
“Does the creek ever freeze solid?” Lizzie asked Joe.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I doubt it,” John echoed.
“Is the water pretty swift? How deep is it?” Stephen asked.
“It depends. Some places it’s way deep and quiet, and other places it runs real fast over rocks.”
“If it stays this cold, it’ll freeze over.”
Lizzie and Mandy talked the whole way home. Bess plodded faithfully, her breath coming in hard, round little puffs of steam as she pulled the buggy safely back to their farm.
In their kitchen, a kerosene lamp shone bright. The girls hurried to the warmth of the coal stove, quickly shedding their snow boots, pushing their stocking feet against its glowing warmth.
“Mmmm!” Mandy closed her eyes, enjoying the stove’s wonderful heat.
“You home?” Mam tiptoed out from her bedroom, her housecoat clutched in her hands. She smelled of talcum powder just as sh
e had when Lizzie was a little girl.
“Yes, Mam. We’re almost frozen.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t slept yet.” She turned to go back to bed, relaxed now that her girls were safely in the house.
“She looks like an angel.”
“She smells like one.”
Lizzie could hardly bear the feeling of love she felt for Mam. Wasn’t it just wonderful that God made soft, warm Mams who smelled so good? Her soft housecoat felt like Lizzie imagined heaven must feel.
Lizzie decided there was no place sweeter than home, and she wanted to stay there for a very, very long time.
She only blinked at the moonlight once before she fell into a deep, lovely sleep.
Chapter 21
ONE DAY MAM FROWNED when Emma handed over her paycheck. She had been away for five days, but the money she brought home wasn’t much for an entire work week.
“Emma, I don’t mean to criticize or complain. I know you work hard, but if I need to think about buying your hope chest and starting to fill it for when you get married, we’re going to have to earn more money somewhere. I know these young dairy farmers who you’re helping are struggling, and they have to spend a lot on your transportation, too, so it isn’t their fault that you aren’t earning more. I just wish we could find a better paying job for one of you, at least,” she said.
“Mam, I could work in town at a restaurant,” Lizzie volunteered.
“I guess not. We’re not that desperate,” Mam said, shaking her head.
Lizzie knew that was what Mam would say. But ever since she was a little girl she had wanted to be a real waitress in a real restaurant.
Her first restaurant meal was etched forever in her mind. On the second morning of their once-in-a-lifetime family vacation to Luray Caverns, they had eaten breakfast in a real restaurant! Lizzie had never eaten in a restaurant, so she didn’t know what the inside would look like.
There were lots of electric lights, and a shiny green floor with dark blue lines and streaks running through it. The place was filled with so many tables and chairs, Lizzie could not imagine how the waitresses could remember who sat where and what they wanted to eat. It was all a bit frightening and confusing, until a smiling lady with a small white apron came to seat them.
She was so friendly, Lizzie felt much more at ease, especially when she made a big fuss about the twins as she helped Mam put them each in a high chair. Some of the other waitresses had watched Lizzie and her family as they sat down around the table. That was one thing about being Amish that Lizzie did not like—when people unfamiliar with their plain clothes stared at them. Most people were just curious about their long dresses and coverings, but some people were not very polite.
When the kind waitress handed them a large plastic-covered paper, Mam told them it was the menu, and they should look for food listed under “Breakfast.” That breakfast was plain-down unforgettable. Lizzie didn’t think of her weight once, as they all enjoyed bacon, eggs, and pancakes topped with huge globs of butter and all the syrup they wanted. Tall glasses of ice-cold orange juice and crispy toast that was also saturated with butter made their meal extra special.
Mam was smiling and saying they had the best coffee she ever tasted. Dat was smiling at Mam as they all enjoyed the delicious food. Emma was fascinated by how fast the waitress poured coffee. She had never seen anything like it, she told Lizzie.
“You could pour coffee every bit as fast as she does if that’s what you did all day. That doesn’t look as hard as balancing all those trays of food. Did you see how many plates were on that one tray?” Lizzie asked.
“Yes. That would be fun,” Emma answered.
“I wonder if Amish girls are allowed to be waitresses,” Lizzie said.
“No. Certainly not,” Emma said.
“We could go English and all work in the same place,” quipped Mandy.
They had giggled together until Mam said they had to be quiet since they were not being respectful.
Lizzie spun around on her kitchen chair. She had eaten in restaurants only a few times since that first meal, but each time she thought it would be so fancy to wear a small white apron, writing down orders and putting her pen in the pocket of her little white apron.
“But Mam, I would love to work in a restaurant,” she said.
“Absolutely not,” she said. “No daughter of mine will be prancing around a whole roomful of English men. No good could come of it.”
That’s how Mam was. She wouldn’t think of letting her daughters work at questionable establishments. She was very careful about everything, even the van drivers she chose.
“Lizzie, you shouldn’t complain,” Emma said. “Mam is only being careful because she cares about us.”
Lizzie stuck her nose in the air and made a snorting sound as she left the kitchen. Mam was a bit over-protective.
Lizzie continued to pester Mam about working in a restaurant. But Mam wouldn’t agree. Instead, Mam was overjoyed when Darwin Myers, a local Mennonite man, came to the kitchen door a week later.
Mam was washing dishes at the kitchen sink when Darwin stepped up onto the porch. “Oh, I know who that is! I bet he wants some help,” she said to Lizzie.
Quickly, Mam dried her hands on her gray work apron and went to open the door. She greeted him warmly, and he asked how they were. They talked about the weather, as people always did, Lizzie mused.
Finally, Darwin got down to business.
“I need someone to help with the egg-grading,” he said. My wife does too much of it for her age, and she’s not as well as she once was, so would you consider letting one or two of your daughters come work for me? I would need them on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“Oh, yes!” Mam responded eagerly.
So that was that. Lizzie would go, and if he needed more help on summer days, Mandy would also help at the hatchery, whatever that was.
After he left, Lizzie picked up a dish towel and absentmindedly wiped at a dry plate. She always dreaded starting a new job, but she knew she was getting older and everyone had to have a job after they were out of school.
“How many hours do I have to grade eggs in a day?” she asked, turning to look at Mam with what she hoped was a sweet, martyred expression. She thought that if she lifted her eyebrows at just the right angle and made her eyes look as sad as possible, there was a slight chance that Mam would take pity on her and make Emma go.
Mam was busily reading a recipe card, but she stopped and looked at Lizzie. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Didn’t he say he’d pick you up at eight o’clock? Then probably until four or five in the evening. Around eight hours.”
Lizzie grabbed another plate and wiped it ferociously. Well, that hadn’t helped.
“Well, Mam, I think if we need money to fill Emma’s hope chest, shouldn’t Emma be the one to make the most money?” Lizzie ventured again. She was trying to complain in a very polite way.
Emma sat at the table cutting sheer white fabric that she would make into coverings, whistling under her breath as she worked.
“Lizzie, I do work away most of the time, but someone has to sew our clothes, too. Do you want to stay home and make coverings?” Emma asked.
Lizzie turned her back and didn’t answer. She was too old to cry, and she knew it was plain childish to complain.
“Lizzie, you know you’re very fast with your hands. You can do anything you try, and rapidly too,” Mam said. “That’s why grading eggs will be a good job for you. You do your work just like Mommy Glick, so be glad you inherited her talent. I think you will make a very good egg-grader, and a competent one. Emma is much better at doing fine, careful work like sewing our coverings, so I think this is the best arrangement.”
Emma started whistling under her breath again as she watched Lizzie. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at her.
Lizzie swallowed all the rest of her complaints, because what Mam had said made her feel good. May
be that was true. She probably would be a good egg-grader. She just wished the first day was over.
Chapter 22
THE NEXT MONDAY MORNING, when Darwin stopped his car in front of a long, low, silver building, Lizzie’s heart sank. The chicken house was a corrugated steel box with huge round fans on each side. An unruly jumble of weeds and briars grew along the building’s base, and old chicken coops leaned in an odd pile-up beside the door.
The door itself was wooden with layers of paint peeling off the front. The window was so splattered with fly dirt you could barely see it was a window at all. Cardboard cartons lay strewn beside the chicken coops, and eggshells littered the gravel drive.
When Lizzie opened the car door, a stench filed her nostrils and turned her stomach. Her first thought was to make a wild dash for freedom, but instead she followed Darwin into the hatchery. Inside, a lone yellow light bulb hung from the ceiling, reminding her of a jail cell. The bright green walls were barely visible between the stacks of cardboard boxes and dull metal carts piled high with square gray cardboard trays used to hold eggs. A huge machine stood along one wall, which Lizzie assumed was the grader.
Through a door at the far end of the room Lizzie heard a rustling, cackling sound. Apparently that was where the chickens were housed. A green door burst open, and an older gentleman pushed out a darker green cart, piled high with cardboard trays of white eggs. He wore an old denim coat and denim overalls, and a navy blue hat covered his white hair. His face was still quite handsome, Lizzie thought as his light blue eyes shone and he smiled.
Lizzie smiled back and said, “Hello.”
“This is Enos Martin. He gathers the eggs every day and pushes them into the cooler room,” Darwin said.
He pointed at another large green door. When Enos opened it, Lizzie saw that it was insulated, like a refrigerator door. The dim interior of the cooler room gave her the creeps. A wet, rattling sound from up high on the wall came from a cooling unit. Water dripped down the walls into a round granite tub. Would it be her job to empty that tub of cold, dirty water? Lizzie wondered. She shivered and wished with all her heart that Emma was here in this new, scary place and that she was still in school with Sara Ruth and Joe and John.