Lizzie and Emma

by Linda Byler

  Cars whizzed past them on a big four-lane highway. Sometimes the driver turned his steering wheel and passed other cars. Lizzie was always glad when he did, because it was a good feeling to know they were going faster than the others. Lizzie wondered where all these people were going and where they lived. She sure hoped they were not all going to Jefferson County. She doubted it, but still, why were they all on this road going in the same direction?

  After a while, the driver slowed down, and they coasted off the big highway onto a smaller road. It was more bumpy and they couldn’t go as fast, but there were more houses, farms, and people to look at now.

  “There’s the mountain!” Dat said excitedly. Lizzie scooted forward, straining to see. To the left was a long, low line of purplish hills, and Lizzie couldn’t see what was so exciting about mountains. But the farther they drove, the bigger they became, until Lizzie’s nose was pressed against the glass of the car window, absolutely speechless at the size of the towering mountain.

  “That’s the Tillebet Mountain! The river runs right along the bottom of it, and the train track runs between the river and the mountain. Oh, it sounds so pretty when the train blows its whistle there—just beautiful!” Dat said.

  Lizzie glanced at Mam, who was smiling, just beaming with delight. Mam loved Jefferson County; she had told Emma and Lizzie this. So when Dat exclaimed about the mountain, it pleased Mam very much, because her relatives lived here.

  They turned onto another road and wound their way slowly along, because they were getting closer to Uncle Elis. Straight ahead were a few scattered houses and another mountain, except it was only a small one. Dat said it was a ridge. At the foot of this pine-covered ridge was a stone house, and a barn that had no paint on it. The boards were black and weatherbeaten, but the roof was shiny with silver paint. Behind the barn, up a steep hill, was a long, low building that Dat said was Uncle Eli’s sawmill.

  They turned in the drive, and Lizzie could see the house better. The stones were not gray like the stone houses where Lizzie lived, but a sandy color. The roof was green, and there were lots of doors and windows. The yard and flower beds were all kept very neat, with a concrete sidewalk leading up to the entrance of the sandy-colored stone house.

  They stopped, and as Dat opened the door of the station wagon, Uncle Eli’s smiling face appeared at the front door. Dat got out and Uncle Eli opened the door, saying, “Looks like you made it alright.” They shook hands warmly, Dat’s face wreathed in smiles.

  “Yes, we did. We had a nice trip down this morning—not too much traffic,” Dat said.

  Aunt Mary bustled out, looking smaller than ever. She smiled and shook hands with Mam, her eyes twinkling behind her gold-framed glasses. Her eyes looked like a bird’s, Lizzie decided, and her nose and mouth were small and round. She talked quietly, but must have had a great sense of humor, because Mam often laughed genuinely when she was with Mary.

  Emma and Lizzie hung back shyly, but when the door opened and Edna came flying out, chattering excitedly before she even reached them, Lizzie did not feel one bit shy at all. She loved Edna so much! Edna tucked one hand under Emma’s arm, and her other one under Lizzie’s.

  “Oh, I was so excited for today!” she said.

  “We were, too,” Emma said. “We could hardly sleep last night.”

  “Me, either.”

  “What are we going to do today?” Lizzie asked eagerly.

  There were so many things she wanted to see—she couldn’t imagine exploring everything in only one day. For one thing, Lizzie had never seen a sawmill, and she was wondering what that big pipe was that hung over the embankment in front of it.

  “Probably we’ll go meet Atlee Yoders’ children, because they’re coming for dinner, too,” Edna said.

  “Who are they?” Emma asked.

  “Our cousins who live down the road.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mom said we have to tell them when you get here. So do you want to walk along down?”

  Uncle Elis’ children didn’t say ‘Mam’ and ‘Dat.’ They called their mother ‘Mom’ and their father ‘Daddy.’ They kind of made the ‘a’ sound flat, so that it sounded different. When they spoke Pennsylvania Dutch, the words were pronounced differently, like their Ohio cousins, because Uncle Elis was originally from Holmes County, Ohio. Mam talked like that, too, but not as much, because Dat and all the Amish people where they lived spoke their Dutch differently. When Mam was with her relatives, her accent became much thicker, and she rolled her ‘r’s, using the same descriptive words they did.

  “Mom, we’re going to get Atlees’ kids,” Edna said.

  Emma and Lizzie looked at each other. They never called children ‘kids,’ because Dat said only baby goats are kids, and Amish people don’t say that. Edna said it more like ‘kits,’ so Lizzie guessed it was a usual way of saying ‘children.’

  They walked only a short distance, past a few English people’s homes, until they came to a short gravel drive. Lizzie was amazed when she saw the house. It looked like a house, in a way, because it had a porch with windows and doors opening to this porch. But it had no roof, or so it seemed. The roof itself was flat, and the yard went up a steep hill on each side so that there really was no house in the back, just a yard with a big, flat black roof. There was a small barn beside this very strange house, and a white board fence surrounded the pasture.

  “Atlees live in a cellar house,” Edna explained.

  “Is that what you call a house that is halfway under the ground,” Lizzie asked.

  “Well, in English, you say ‘basement home,’” Edna assured her.

  “Is it nice?”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s nice.” Edna knocked on the screen door, and a friendly voice hollered out, “C’mon in!”

  Edna opened the screen door, and Emma and Lizzie followed shyly. Lizzie could soon tell there was nothing to be shy about, because a plump lady hurried into the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron.

  “Oh my, did Melvins get here? Are these Annie’s girls? Don’t you look pretty in those purple dresses? How do you roll your hair like that? I declare,” she laughed, touching Lizzie’s hair, turning them around to look at how their dresses were made.

  Lizzie loved her on sight. She exuded kindliness, warmth, curiosity, and a great sense of happiness. Her hair was dark brown, with a creamy complexion and bright twinkling eyes. When she talked, which was almost continuously, she had a lisp in her words when she pronounced certain letters. Lizzie would have listened to her for hours without tiring of it.

  Two girls about Emma and Lizzie’s age came and joined them. They were not shy, just walking easily into the kitchen with a friendly expression, quite unselfconscious.

  Lizzie had never seen anyone look like those two girls. She didn’t mean to stare, because Mam said that was rude, but she just looked at them for a long time without thinking. Their hair was bouncy and wavy, combed back loosely. The most astounding thing was the color of it. It was bright orange-red, like the sun shining on a new copper penny. Lizzie thought it was the prettiest thing she had ever seen. Their eyes were round and light blue, almost sky blue, and their faces were covered with hundreds of freckles that matched their red hair exactly.

  Mrs. Yoder pushed her daughters forward. “Girls, this is Nancy and Mollie! Say hello to these girls!”

  Both girls smiled widely, their small white teeth flashing, and said, “Hi!”

  Emma said “Hello,” but Lizzie just smiled, because she felt so shy of these red-haired girls.

  The door was flung open, and three boys charged into the room. “Hey, Mom, those people are at Elis!” They stopped when they saw Emma and Lizzie. They just stood there and stared at them, and Emma and Lizzie stared back. They looked like Nancy and Mollie, with the same red hair and freckles, except they were boys.

  “Two of them are twins,” Edna said.

  Emma was too dumbfounded to answer, and Lizzie was too busy just looking at them. They were covered all over
with freckles and looked as if they laughed most of the time.

  One of the twins came over to Lizzie and said, “What’s your name?”

  “L-Lizzie,” she stammered quietly.

  “Oh, Lizzie. I guess you must be a busy Lizzie!”

  The other boys laughed loudly, but not in a nasty or mocking manner. Lizzie felt a giggle start at the bottom of her throat, mostly because when those red-haired boys laughed, it just became infectious and you had to laugh, too, whether you felt like it or not. She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes crinkled, and she giggled. The boys looked at each other, pleased that they could make this new girl giggle.

  “Hey, Mom. We’re going!” And like split lightning, they were all out the door, slamming it loudly behind them.

  Lizzie thought that here in Jefferson County, the parents must be easy to get along with. The children just said where they were going and left. Maybe that was why everybody was so happy and unselfconscious. They didn’t worry very much about small matters, like running down the road to their uncle’s place.

  Nancy and Mollie joined the others, and they all walked back to Uncle Elis, where Mam and Mary were hurrying around in the kitchen, getting the plates on the table and preparing the huge company dinner. Edna had two older sisters, named Esther and Lavina. They were folding silverware in napkins, but stopped to tug at Emma’s skirt as the girls passed.

  “Hello, Emma.”

  Emma stopped to say hello, and they picked at the material of her dress.

  “That’s a pretty purple color.”

  Emma smiled, and they moved through the kitchen, up the stairs to Edna’s room. The girls fussed over her pretty treasures on her dresser, but Lizzie sat on the bed and kicked at the braided rug beside it. She was insulted because Esther and Lavina had noticed Emma’s dress and not hers. Lizzie’s was just as pretty as Emma’s—in fact, it was the exact same thing. Why did they just notice Emma?

  The other girls were chattering and laughing, and Lizzie felt more and more left out and alone. They didn’t even notice she was quiet, because they were all crowded around Edna’s dresser, admiring a small vase.

  Lizzie flopped back on the pillow, but her stomach looked too big when she did that, and her knees came out from beneath her apron. She didn’t want the other girls to see her knees, because they were soft and round, too, so she sat up. She felt her hair to see if it was messed up, and wondered again what the difference was between her and Emma. Why did they notice just her dress? She felt steadily more miserable, so she got up and wandered into another room across the hall.

  It was full of rocks, pheasant feathers, squirrel tails, and deer antlers, so she guessed it must be the boys’ room. She walked over to the windowsill, wondering why they were so wide. You could easily sit on them, like a small seat that was up too high.

  There were pencil drawings on the wall of bears, deer, and pheasants. Lizzie walked over to examine them more closely. Someone could really draw, because it looked exactly right, except there was no color, only pencil. She wished she could draw like that.

  Heavy feet pounded up the stairs and two boys came into the room before Lizzie had a chance of getting to Edna’s room. She turned around in front of the pencil drawings, her eyes wide. They were Edna’s two brothers, Ivan and Ray, who were older than Lizzie.

  “What are you doing in here, Lizzie?” Ray asked kindly. Ivan just looked at Lizzie and didn’t say anything.

  “I … I just walked in here to … to … see who draws these pictures,” Lizzie said nervously.

  “I bet,” Ray said, his eyes twinkling at her.

  “Well, kind of,” Lizzie said bravely.

  “Just don’t touch any of these eggs or feathers,” Ivan said.

  “What eggs?”

  “These.” Ivan showed her an old plastic container, the bottom covered with tiny, fragile birds’ eggs. There were aqua-colored ones, spotted brown ones, and sky blue ones. Lizzie bent her head to peer at them and a soft exclamation of wonder escaped, in spite of her shyness.

  “Wow.”

  “Hey, if we get done cleaning up the sawmill this afternoon, I’ll show you a real nest of these,” Ivan offered.

  Lizzie looked up and smiled. “Okay!”

  “D-i-nnn-er!” Uncle Eli’s voice boomed up the stairway, and Lizzie came out of Ray and Ivan’s room with them at the same time the girls ran out of Edna’s room. Emma looked aghast, pulling on Lizzie’s sleeve as they went down the stairs.

  “Lizzie, what were you doing in the boys’ room?”

  “Nothing.” Lizzie pinched her mouth shut tightly, offering no more information. If Lavina and Esther noticed her dress, and not Lizzie’s, then Emma didn’t have to go along to see the bird’s nest, either. That was just the way it was.

  · · · · ·

  Aunt Mary did not set the table the way everyone did where Lizzie lived. She piled all the plates on one end of the table, with the silverware and drinks in one big group. Then big stainless steel kettles, roasters, and casseroles were lined up along one side of the kitchen table. The other side held pies, cakes, fruit desserts, and puddings, until the table fairly groaned—it held so many good dishes.

  Uncle Eli told everyone to bow their heads in silent prayer, as their driver was asked to come in to dinner. Because he was English, maybe he didn’t know what a silent prayer was, so that’s why Uncle Eli said that. Lizzie bowed her head, clasping her hands in front of her, and peeped at everyone else. Emma’s eyes were closed and she was saying her prayer, so Lizzie remembered to pray quickly. She forgot and opened her eyes, peeping at the driver, who also had his eyes closed, his lips moving in silent prayer. So English drivers had dinner prayers, too.

  Of course, the men and boys were allowed to go first, and to Lizzie it seemed as if the row was endless. She sincerely hoped Aunt Mary had made enough to eat, because probably the little girls would be last, at the very end of the line. Her mouth watered and she swallowed. One of the boys scraped the spoon on the bottom of the kettle and looked at Aunt Mary, who was watching carefully. “Is it empty?” she asked, moving forward to peer into the kettle. Lizzie’s heart sank. Sure enough, it was the macaroni and cheese, too. But Aunt Mary whisked it away, returning with another container filled to the brim with golden, bubbly macaroni. Lizzie was greatly relieved, because that was a good sign. If she had plenty of one dish, she probably had enough for everyone.

  Finally it was Lizzie’s turn. She tried not to be too eager, but she grabbed a clean plate, heaping mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni, filling, and fried chicken, corn, and green bean casserole on her plate. It smelled so good, and she felt weak with hunger. Balancing her plate carefully, she carried it out to the yard where Emma, Edna, and the little red-haired girls had formed a circle, sitting cross-legged on the grass, balancing their plates on one knee.

  First, Lizzie tasted the macaroni and cheese. Mmmm! It was absolutely delicious. Next, the crispy fried chicken melted in her mouth, followed by big spoonfuls of mashed potatoes and gravy. While she was eating, she watched Nancy and Mollie pick at their food, taking delicate little nibbles, before they decided they didn’t like certain dishes.

  Lizzie thought everything was good—in fact, everything was just wonderful. She could hardly wait to see what was for dessert. She was so busy eating that she really didn’t worry much about being heavier than Nancy and Mollie. She was just too hungry.

  They returned to fill their plates with dessert. Because Lizzie was not as hungry anymore, she took her time selecting dishes she thought looked best. There was a chocolate cake, but it wasn’t a layer cake like Mam made, and it didn’t really have enough frosting. But the nut cake, oh, what an astounding thing! It was cut in big, triangular wedges, covered with thick, creamy caramel frosting. The whole top of it was covered with finely ground walnuts. Lizzie slid her knife under a piece, and pulled gently, balancing it carefully with her other hand. She sighed in relief when it landed in the middle of her plate, in all its perfect go
odness.

  Lizzie moved on down the line of desserts, passing up the fruit salad. There was just one thing wrong with fruit salad. It tasted so sour if you ate it with cake, especially if the frosting was sweet.

  She discovered a bowl of creamy vanilla pudding that had layers of whipped cream and bananas. Mmmm. That was the perfect thing to go with the nut cake. She took two big spoonfuls and plopped it carefully beside the cake, following Edna out the door and back to her perch in the grass.

  She cut a piece of cake and arranged a bit of pudding on top, tasting it. It was so good that Lizzie decided it was probably the best thing she had ever eaten in her whole life. It was even a lot better than hot chocolate and shoofly. She wasn’t too sure if it was better than french fries, though.

  chapter 17

  A Wonderful Afternoon

  The girls did not need to help with the dishes, because they were too small. The older girls helped, and Mam and Aunt Mary, plus the friendly Mrs. Yoder.

  Lizzie asked Edna if they could see the sawmill first. Lizzie had never seen one, so she was curious what Uncle Eli did with those large piles of logs. She definitely wanted to know what that huge pipe that stuck way out over the steep embankment in front of the sawmill was for.

  “Why do you have to know all that stuff about a sawmill?” asked Emma. “You’re not a boy.”

  “I know,” Lizzie huffed.

  “Well, then.”

  “I just want to see what they do. You can stay at the house.”

  But Emma trudged along as they walked up the hill behind the weatherbeaten barn. There was lots of sawdust mixed into the black earth and weeds grew around the piles of logs. Edna said they absolutely were not allowed to go close to the logs, because they could start to roll and crush someone. Lizzie was so amazed that logs were trees that were cut down. She wondered what happened to the branches and all the pretty green leaves.