The Healing

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “I don’t like hawwermehl,” Leon complained when Titus placed several more bowls on the table. “Makes me think I’m eatin’ horse food.”

  “Oatmeal’s not horse food.” Marla poked her brother’s arm. “Just eat it and be thankful.”

  “Nobody’s eating anything until we’ve prayed.” Titus gave Penny and Jared their bowls; then he pulled out his chair at the head of the table and took a seat.

  All heads bowed, and when their time of silent prayer was over, Titus picked up the container of brown sugar and handed it to Leon. “If you put some of this on the oatmeal, it’ll taste just fine.”

  The boy scowled. “Nothin’ can make horse food taste fine.”

  “It’s not horse food,” Marla insisted.

  “Jah, it is.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “If Leon’s not eatin’ horse food, then neither am I,” Penny said with a shake of her head.

  Marla’s face turned red. “It’s not horse food!”

  Leon bobbed his head. “Uh-huh.”

  “You like Esther’s hawwermehl kichlin, don’t ya?”

  “Jah, but that’s different.”

  “No, it’s not. Oatmeal cookies have brown sugar and raisins in ‘em, same as what ya can put on oatmeal cereal.”

  “It’s not the same, and I don’t like hawwermehl cereal!”

  “That’s enough!” Samuel slammed his fist down on the table so hard that his glass of milk toppled over.

  Jared let out a piercing howl, and Samuel thought his head might explode.

  Titus jumped up, grabbed a dishtowel, and quickly mopped up the mess. “It’s okay, Jared,” he said. “There’s nothing to cry about.”

  Jared continued to howl, and Samuel wanted to scream. It seemed like he could never say or do anything right where the kids were concerned, and all their fussing really got on his nerves.

  I wish it had been me who’d died, instead of Elsie, he thought. She was always better with the kids than me. He grimaced, as another thought popped into his head. But if I had died, then Elsie would have had the responsibility of trying to raise and support them by herself. Dear Lord, why couldn’t You have let Elsie live? How can I can accept her death as Your will? Will I ever feel at peace and happy again?

  CHAPTER 19

  Esther took a seat on the sofa in Titus’s living room and reached into the satchel she’d brought with her. Penny and Jared were both taking naps, so this was a good time to write a few thoughts in her journal.

  As much as I miss Mom and Dad, she wrote, I’m glad I stayed here in Kentucky. This is home to me, and I enjoy coming over here each day to care for Samuel’s kinner. With each passing day I’ve become more and more attached. When school’s out near the end of April, I’ll become better acquainted with Marla and Leon. I just wish I could get to know …

  Esther paused and lifted her pen. Did she dare write everything that was on her heart?

  It’s all right, she told herself. No one but me will ever see what I’ve written in my journal. No one but me will know my deepest thoughts.

  I have the strangest feeling whenever I’m around Samuel, she continued to write. I know he’s hurting, and it’s as though I can almost feel his pain. I want to reach out to him, but I’m not sure how. He keeps his distance and will barely look at me whenever we speak. Yet he doesn’t seem that way with Bonnie. He’s always willing to help or answer any of her questions.

  A sense of anxiety clutched Esther’s heart. Maybe what she’d imagined before wasn’t so crazy. Samuel might actually have a personal interest in Bonnie, and she could be interested in him as well. The other day, Bonnie had told Esther that Samuel had taught her some Pennsylvania-Dutch words, and she’d also made some comment about how comfortable she felt when she was around Samuel.

  Why would Bonnie ask him to teach her some of our words when she had already asked me? Esther wondered. Is the reason Bonnie wants to learn our language so she can understand what we’re saying, or is she thinking of leaving her modern, English world and—

  “Mammi! Mammi!” Penny’s shrill voice echoed down the hallway.

  Esther slipped the journal into her satchel and hurried toward the bedroom Penny shared with Marla. She found the little girl curled up on her bed, sobbing.

  “What’s wrong?” Esther asked, leaning over the bed and gathering the child into her arms.

  “I—I miss my mamm.” Penny’s shoulders shook, and she turned her face toward the wall.

  Esther took a seat on the bed. “I know you do,” she said softly. “I’m sure your sister and brothers miss her, too.”

  Penny sniffled. “I–I’m afraid I might forget her.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Sure don’t wanna forget my mamm.”

  “Of course not, and if you talk about your mamm, it will keep her memory alive in your heart.” Esther patted Penny’s back, hoping to offer the comfort she needed. “You can talk to me about your mamm anytime you like.”

  “Danki, Esther.” Penny leaned against Esther’s shoulder with a sigh. “I like you a lot.”

  “I like you, too,” Esther murmured.

  “Will you be my new mamm?”

  Esther’s throat tightened as she slipped her arm around Penny’s waist. “I can’t be your mamm, sweet girl, but I will be your friend.”

  Bonnie had just picked up her laundry basket and was about to head to the basement, when she heard the whinny of a horse outside. She put the basket on the floor and went to the kitchen window to look out. A horse pulling an open wagon was coming up the driveway. She didn’t recognize the Amish man driving the rig, but when she saw several wooden crates in the back of the wagon, she knew it must be Amos Bontrager’s father bringing her chickens.

  Bonnie slipped into a sweater and hurried out the door.

  “You must be Amos’s father,” she said, when the man halted the horse and climbed down from the wagon.

  He gave a nod. “My name’s Harley Bontranger. Where do you want the chickens?”

  Bonnie gulped. Until this minute, she hadn’t realized she didn’t have any place for chickens. “Umm … Let me see.” She glanced around the yard. She couldn’t put them in the garage; they’d make a mess and probably hop all over her car. She couldn’t let them run free, because she was sure they’d never stay in the yard. Then, too, if she was going to run a B&B, her guests wouldn’t want chickens running all over the place, leaving their droppings. Oh dear, what was I thinking when I agreed to buy these chickens?

  Her gaze came to rest on the storage shed, where Grandpa had kept his lawnmower and yard tools. It wasn’t a large structure, but she was sure it was big enough to temporarily house sixteen chickens.

  “We can put them in there for now.” She gestured to the shed. “I’ll have to take out the mower and other tools first though.”

  Harley tipped his head, and his pale blue eyes seemed to be sizing her up. He probably thought she was a city slicker who didn’t have a clue how to raise chickens. Well, it was true; she didn’t. But she’d let Amos talk her into buying the chickens so she’d have fresh eggs, and now that the critters were here, she felt obligated to take them.

  “Can you wait a few minutes while I clear out the shed?” she asked Harley.

  “Sure. I’ll help you clear it out, and then I’ll need to be on my way. I have to get back to plowin’ my fields soon before it starts raining.”

  Bonnie glanced up. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but maybe Harley knew something about the weather that she didn’t. Or maybe he was just anxious to be on his way.

  “I appreciate your help,” she said, hurrying toward the shed.

  “Where do you want me to put everything?” Harley asked when she opened the shed door.

  “I guess we can put them in the garage for now, but I’ll have to pull my car out first.”

  One thing always leads to another, she thought, as she hurried toward the garage. I have to clear out the shed to make room for chickens and clear out the garage to
make room for the yard tools. What next?

  By the time Bonnie had moved her car out of the garage, Harley had the lawnmower, several shovels, a pair of hedge clippers, and two rakes out of the shed. While he put them in the garage, Bonnie went into the shed to see what else needed to go. She figured she’d better remove several clay pots that sat on a shelf. She’d heard that chickens liked to roost, so they might get up on the shelf, and she wouldn’t want the pots to get broken because she might want to fill them with flowers and set them out on the front porch for a bit of color.

  After she’d hauled the pots to the garage, she returned to the shed, where Harley was gathering more tools. When they’d gotten everything out, she turned to him and said, “I guess you can bring the chickens in now.”

  “Have you got any nesting boxes?” he asked.

  “What are those?”

  “Small wooden boxes where the hens can lay their eggs.”

  “There are some boxes in the attic. I suppose I can use those.”

  “You’ll also need some chicken feeders, watering trays, cracked corn, and laying mash.”

  She sighed. “Oh my, I am unprepared. I sure hadn’t figured on all of that.”

  “You can’t expect chickens to survive if you don’t feed and water ‘em. And if you want plenty of eggs, you’ll need to give ‘em some laying mash.” Harley’s dark eyebrows drew together. “You sure you wanna do this?”

  Bonnie thought about the desperate look she’d seen on Amos’s face this morning and knew she couldn’t say no. She had a hunch that the Bontragers needed money, and even though they weren’t charging her a lot for the chickens, she wanted to help out.

  “I know it seems that I didn’t think things through very well, but I haven’t changed my mind,” she said, more determined than ever. “So let’s get those chickens unloaded, and I’ll pay you for them.”

  After Bonnie got her laundry started, she would head to Hopkinsville and see about getting the things she’d need for the chickens. She also thought she’d better buy a book that would tell her everything she needed to know about raising chickens. Then later, she’d drop by Samuel’s and see if he would be willing to build her a chicken coop. It was a cinch she needed one, and soon.

  CHAPTER 20

  A cold foot pushed against Samuel’s side, jolting him awake. “How many times have I told you to stay on your own side of the bed?” he grumbled as Leon looked at him with sleepy eyes.

  “Sorry, Daadi,” the boy mumbled. “Don’t know where I am in the bed when I’m sleepin’.”

  Samuel couldn’t dispute that fact. He’d found the boy on the floor a few times since he’d begun sharing a room with him and Jared. He glanced at the other side of the room, where Jared lay sleeping on a cot. Bunking in with two active boys wasn’t the best arrangement—for him or them. But what else could he do? His house in Pennsylvania still hadn’t sold, he wasn’t making enough money yet to build or buy a home, and there was nothing for rent in the area right now. Besides, if he moved out on his own, he’d have to deal with the kids by himself, not to mention cleaning, cooking, and doing whatever other chores needed to be done. Right now, the thought of him and the children being on their own seemed overwhelming to Samuel.

  He looked at the battery-operated clock on the table by his bed and realized it was only 5:00 a.m. The kids didn’t usually get up for school until six.

  “I’m awake now, so I may as well get up.” Samuel poked Leon’s arm. “You, too, since you’re the one who woke me.”

  Leon yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

  “That’s because you’ve been thrashin’ around all night.” Samuel pulled the covers aside. “Now climb out of bed and get dressed. You’ve got chores to do.”

  Leon clambered out of bed and plodded over to the window. Lifting the shade, he said, “It’s still dark outside, and it’s Saturday, so there’s no school. Can’t I sleep awhile longer?”

  “No.” Samuel put on a shirt, slipped into his pants, and pulled his black suspenders over his shoulders. How could he have forgotten that today was Saturday?

  “I’m hungerich,” Leon complained. “Can I wait to do my chores till we’ve had breakfast?”

  “No!” Samuel didn’t know why, but every word the boy said made him more irritated. He couldn’t remember feeling so impatient with the kids when Elsie was alive. He wasn’t so forgetful then either.

  “Should I wake Jared?” Leon asked.

  “You’d better not. If you wake him now, he’ll be cranky and out of sorts all day.” The last thing Samuel wanted was another issue to cope with. He might not know much about caring for the kids on his own, but he knew that his two-year-old boy needed eight to ten hours of sleep at night, plus at least one nap during the day, or he was impossible to deal with. At least for Samuel, he was. Elsie never seemed to have a problem with Jared. He also knew that Jared was a heavy sleeper, and even loud voices in the room didn’t wake him. You had to shake the boy’s arm and practically shout in his ear to get him awake.

  ’Course Jared wasn’t like that with Elsie. All she had to do was pick him up and carry him across the room, and he woke right up—in a pleasant mood, too. Not like with me; he usually cries whenever I hold him. Guess that’s because I don’t have Elsie’s gentle touch.

  Samuel jammed his feet into his boots. Stop thinking about Elsie. You need to find something to do to keep your mind busy.

  He turned to face Leon, who was still standing in front of the window. “I asked you to get dressed!” Didn’t the boy do anything he was told?

  Leon’s chin quivered. “Ich bin mied wie en hund.”

  “I don’t care if you are tired as a dog. You woke me out of a sound sleep, and since I’m getting up, you are, too.”

  “But, Daadi …”

  “Don’t argue with me. Just do as you’re told.”

  “You’re a schtinker,” the boy said defiantly.

  Samuel stomped across the room and grabbed Leon’s arm roughly. “So you think I’m a mean person, do you? Well, I’ll show you how mean I can be.” He lifted the boy off his feet, flopped him facedown on the bed, and gave his backside a couple of well-placed swats.

  He didn’t think he’d hit the boy that hard, but Leon let out a yelp that could have woke the soundest sleeper. In fact, it did. Jared sat straight up and started howling like a wounded heifer.

  Unable to deal with it, Samuel rushed out of the room. He’d be heading over to Bonnie’s after breakfast to build her a chicken coop, and he could hardly wait to get there. He was glad Titus didn’t have to work on Saturdays and would be here to watch the kids, because right now, he didn’t have the patience to deal with even one of his kids, let alone all four!

  Bonnie was surprised when she looked out the kitchen window and saw Samuel’s horse and buggy pull into the yard. It was only 7:00 a.m. She hadn’t expected him until nine, which is when he said he’d be over.

  She set her coffee cup on the counter and stepped outside onto the porch. Despite the early morning chill, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and no wind at all. It looked like the promise of a beautiful spring day.

  “Guder mariye,” Bonnie said, joining Samuel near the garage, where he’d tied his horse to the hitching rail he’d constructed several weeks ago. “Did I say ‘good morning’ right?”

  Samuel gave a nod. “Good morning to you, too. Hope it’s okay that I came early,” he said, without offering an explanation.

  “It’s fine. I’ve been up since five. For some reason, I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I can relate to that,” he muttered. “I was up early, too.”

  Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!

  Bonnie grimaced. “That noisy rooster’s probably the reason I woke up at the crack of dawn.”

  Making no comment about the rooster, Samuel moved to the back of his buggy and removed a box of tools. Having grown up on a farm, he was probably used to many strange animal sounds. “Where do you want me to build the chicken coop?” he asked
.

  Bonnie studied the expansive yard a few minutes. “I don’t want it too close to the house. It might turn guests away if they can smell the chickens.”

  “I’d think about getting rid of the rooster if I was you,” Samuel mumbled. “Some folks might not appreciate getting woke early in the morning by an irritating rooster.”

  Bonnie could see by Samuel’s sour expression that he was agitated about something, and she was fairly certain it had nothing to do with roosters. She was tempted to ask but figured if he wanted to talk about it, he would.

  “Guess I’ll keep the rooster for a while and see how it goes,” she said. “If any of my guests complain, then I may need to get rid of him though.”

  Samuel nodded at the box of tools he held. “So where do you want the coop?”

  “How about there?” Bonnie pointed to a patch of ground several feet behind the garage. “That should be far enough from the house that my guests won’t have to deal with the chicken smells.”

  “Okay. How big do you want the coop to be?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that. How big do you think it needs to be?”

  “I’d say an eight-by-twelve chicken coop ought to be big enough,” he said as he started walking toward the area she’d suggested.

  Bonnie followed, and when they got there, he set the tool box on the ground and turned to face her. “I’m guessin’ you’d like an outside run for the chickens, too?”

  “I suppose that would be a good idea. I can’t keep them cooped up all the time, and I certainly don’t want them running all over the place.”

  He tipped his head and stared at her strangely. “I’ve been wondering … Have you ever had chickens before?”

  “No, and it shows, doesn’t it?” She grinned. “Truth be told, the only experience I’ve had with chickens are the ones fried golden brown.” Bonnie hoped her comment might bring a chuckle from Samuel, but he never even cracked a smile.

  “Where’s the lumber you want me to use?” he asked. “When you called and left a message for me the other day you said you’d ordered some wood for the coop.”