Lizzie and Emma

by Linda Byler

  Lots of words were pronounced entirely different, or they used other words that Lizzie wasn’t used to hearing. Mashed potatoes in Lizzie’s world were “chtompdy groombare” and Ohio people called them “mush.” Lizzie thought they were having cooked cornmeal mush like Mommy Miller made. She thought it was awful, spoiling a perfectly good fried chicken and filling dinner with that horrible cornmeal mush with milk and sugar. But mush was actually mashed potatoes, as she found out on one of her first visits to Uncle Homers in Ohio.

  When Aunt Mary said ‘Melvin Annie,’ she pronounced ‘Annie’ more like ‘Ennie.’ In Randolf County, the grownups all said ‘Melvin sei Annie’ to speak of husband and wife, which actually meant Mam was Dat’s wife. Here in Jefferson County, they just put Dat’s name and Mam’s name together. Aunt Mary was ‘Eli Mary,’ and Aunt Clara was ‘Junior Clara.’ It seemed different to Lizzie, but she loved to hear them say ‘Melvin Ennie.’ It seemed as if they truly belonged here now, making her feel like they could make themselves at home.

  “Can Lizzie and Emma go along over?” Edna asked.

  “I guess. If Melvin Annie doesn’t mind,” Aunt Mary said.

  So they walked across the yard, as Edna showed them where Marlene lived. The house was new, with gray siding and fancy shutters on it. The front of the house that was under the porch roof had stone laid the whole way up to the ceiling. A massive window that was shaped a bit round and had lots of small panes in it took up almost the whole front wall. The drive was macadam, same as the road they crossed, and the yard was mowed to perfection. It actually looked like a green carpet, not really like real grass. There was a curving stone sidewalk that led to the fancy front porch, with a lamp post beside it that had a gold electric glass lamp on top.

  “Why does Marlene live by herself?” Emma asked.

  “Oh, she doesn’t,” Edna assured them. “Her husband was killed.”

  “Really?”

  “Mm-hmm. He worked on the railroad. I’m not sure what he did, but he was killed one day. They lived in our house, and Marlene was standing on our porch when they came to tell her, so she couldn’t bear to live in that house anymore without Roger. That was his name.”

  “My.” That’s all Lizzie could say, because Edna had stepped up on the porch and was pressing her finger on a small, rectangular, plastic object beside the door. They heard a faint “ding-dong” inside the house, and Emma looked at Lizzie and raised her eyebrows.

  The door opened and a tall black-haired lady smiled from behind the storm door. She had light green eyes and wore red lipstick, a yellow blouse, and navy blue pants. Lizzie quickly looked at her feet, but she was wearing warm socks and no shoes. She guessed this lady had piles of high heels in her bedroom closet.

  “Hi, Edna!” the lady said.

  “Hello. Can we have some of Mom’s hot dogs from the freezer?” Edna asked.

  “Sure. Come on in.” She stood back to let the three girls into a living room with soft, golden-colored carpeting on the floor. Lizzie had never walked on anything as soft and clean as that carpet.

  There was a real stone fireplace along one wall, and a floral sofa and chairs with pretty pillows and afghans placed perfectly to accentuate the gold color of the rug. It was so fancy and beautiful that Lizzie could only stand and stare. She loved pretty things, and never in her life had she seen a room as pretty as this one.

  “Are these the new cousins who are moving in today?” asked Marlene.

  “Yes. This is Emma, and this is Lizzie,” Edna said, with a little shove to their shoulders.

  “Hello. How are you?” Marlene said, smiling.

  Emma said they were fine, but Lizzie didn’t say anything, because she was overwhelmed with awe when Marlene smiled. She was so pretty that Lizzie just couldn’t speak.

  “Aren’t you about Debbie’s age?” she asked.

  “Probably,” Edna answered.

  Lizzie looked around the kitchen, with its beautiful cabinets, linoleum that shone like glass, and huge china cupboards that contained so much fine china and crystal that she thought it looked like gold. Everything was so spotlessly clean that it sparkled.

  Marlene opened her basement door, and Edna went down the stairs with her. Emma and Lizzie weren’t sure if they should go along down or stay upstairs, so they stood selfconsciously in the doorway of the living room.

  “Wow!” Lizzie breathed to Emma.

  “I know!” Emma whispered back.

  They heard them coming back up the carpeted stairway. They were surprised to see a girl about their own age open the door first. She had short, curly hair, as black as Doddy Miller’s crow. It was so black that it shone blue, depending how the light shone on it. Her eyes were deep brown in color, and her skin was tanned to a deep nut brown hue. She was round and chubby, wearing a shirt that stretched tight at the buttons. She had a small, flat nose that was the cutest nose Lizzie had ever seen.

  “Lizzie, this is Debbie,” Edna said. “She’s our age, and she stays at our house a lot, so she’s used to Amish children.”

  Debbie looked shyly at Emma, then at Lizzie, lowered her black eyelashes, and giggled. That was all. She never said hello or asked how they were or anything like that. But a giggle rose in Lizzie’s throat, and Emma smiled widely, because that’s just what Debbie’s giggle did. It was like a virus—you just caught it.

  “Debbie, this is Lizzie and Emma, your new neighbors where Atlees used to live,” Edna said, trying her best to introduce them.

  Down went Debbie’s black eyelashes, followed by another infectious giggle. Now they all laughed out loud, because there was nothing else to do when Debbie laughed her little “tee-hee.” Then she raised her eyelashes and looked at them, smiling, her small white teeth showing prettily. The girls smiled back, and the beginning of a true friendship began at that moment.

  Edna had a few packages of frozen hot dogs and announced the fact that her hands were getting cold, so they told Debbie good-bye, thanking Marlene. She showed them to the door, and they hurried out the curved stone sidewalk.

  “Isn’t she cute?” Lizzie burst out. “Oh, their house is so-o fancy.”

  “Yes, but they are the nicest people. So common and nice to be with,” Edna said.

  “Does … does Debbie come to your house to play?” Lizzie asked.

  “Oh, yes. Sometimes every evening after school. Her mom says she’s allowed to stay for an hour, but it’s usually longer. She likes our food. Mom makes Grandpa cookies with vanilla frosting, and she loves them,” Edna said, laughing.

  As they walked back across the lawn, Lizzie’s heart was filled with joy. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, casting a yellowish glow across the fields. The gigantic mountain loomed to the west, enveloping Lizzie with a protective feeling.

  She heard Uncle Eli’s laughter ring out, which only increased the happiness and excitement of the moment. Lizzie had never known that changes in your life could turn out to be as happy as this one. Her new beginning in Jefferson County promised to be an experience rich with adventure.

  Lizzie’s heart was so light that she skipped breathless little skips across the sun-drenched yard.

  the end