by Jan Drexler
David let the shadow of a grin show. “I guess a girl is a fair distraction for a fellow your age, but don’t let it happen again. When you’re driving a team, they need your full attention.”
Guy climbed onto the seat of the spreader and clicked his tongue as a signal to the horses. He didn’t have a view of the neighbor’s house from the back field, but his mind went off on its own thoughts, anyway. Keeping the team on track, he focused on the fence post at the far side.
David had taught him that if he picked a point and kept his eye on it, his path would always be straight and true. Almost everything David taught him had more than one meaning. He had made it clear that Guy needed to have a goal for his life and to keep his eyes on that. He was an eddy in a stream, David had complained. Always doing, but never going anywhere. But Guy just couldn’t find that centering point.
When the horses reached the fence post, he turned them around and lined up the next goal, the crooked tree by the farm pond, just beyond the fence.
At nineteen years old, he still had no idea what he wanted out of life.
No, that was wrong. He knew.
He had known ever since Pa had taken him to the Orphan’s Home on his fifth birthday. He still remembered the green suit Mama had made and how the wool had made his neck itch. He remembered the smell of the Home. The putrid odor that lingered in the dormitory rooms and drifted down the stairs. The crying that echoed in the hallways.
“I’ll come get you when I find work,” Pa had said as he crouched in front of him, smoothing the collar of the green suit. “It may be a while, but they’ll take good care of you here.” And then Pa had patted his shoulder and left, trotting down the sidewalk back to the old dusty black automobile.
Guy had waited for his return, and the years of aching emptiness had about killed him.
He knew what he wanted out of life. He wanted a father who never left his boy behind. He wanted a mother who didn’t die. He wanted his family.
But that was a dead-end dream.
The next time Pa had come back, on an early-spring day three years later, he had smelled of alcohol. A woman had been with him.
“Dressed in floozy clothes,” Mrs. Bender, the matron at the Home, had said with a sniff.
The fancy woman had taken one look at him and poked Pa in the shoulder. “That ain’t your kid. He looks nothing like you.”
Then she had leaned close to Guy, grabbing his chin and turning it one way and then the other. “Nothing like you.”
She had released his chin from her icy stick fingers and lit a cigarette, walking toward the shiny burgundy-colored car waiting by the road. “It’s him or me, Sugar Daddy,” she had called over her shoulder as she climbed into the front seat.
Pa had shrugged his shoulders, his eye on the woman and the car. “She won’t be around long, and then I’ll be back for you.” He had straightened his striped jacket and settled his hat more firmly on his head. “You see how it is, don’t you, Sport?”
Pa had come by to visit a few times after that, showing up every couple of years. Twice he’d had different fancy women with him. Another time he had shown up on foot, dressed in torn clothes and dusty shoes that were cracked and showing Pa’s bare feet through the peeling leather. Every time, he had left with the same promise of coming back to get him. Guy only needed to be patient until Pa’s ship came in.
But Guy had learned that Pa’s promise was nothing but straw. Easily made, easily broken.
The horses had stopped with their noses at the fence, and Brownie turned his head to look back at Guy.
“All right, all right. Hold your horses.” Guy shook off the memories and grinned as he turned the team around to start the next pass down the field. Horses holding their horses. If he’d still been at the Home, he’d have told that joke to the other boys as they shivered on their cots waiting for the lights-out call to drift up the long stairway. But he no longer belonged there. Too old for the Home, he was on his own.
He looked at the big white house at the edge of the barnyard. David and Verna’s place wasn’t home, either, no matter how welcome they tried to make him feel. He wasn’t theirs and never would be. He didn’t really belong anywhere.
The memory of Judith’s quiet glance sent a cool stream of peace through him. Maybe, just maybe, she could help him belong. The Penn Dutch lessons should help him become more comfortable in the community. Maybe he could put down roots here. Buy a farm. Raise a family. He let his thoughts flow to a home and family like Matthew Beachey’s, with a girl like Judith as his wife and children growing along with their love for each other. Guy shook his head with a laugh. That dream was far beyond the reach of an outcast like him.
* * *
Judith turned the ham frying in the cast-iron skillet then checked the potatoes with a fork. Dinner was nearly ready, and just in time. She could see Matthew heading toward the house for his noon meal.
“Ach, Judith, you’re a blessing!”
Annie stood in the kitchen doorway, rocking and bouncing as she held a fussy Viola in her arms. Or was it Rose? Judith couldn’t tell the two babies apart yet. They both looked like Annie, with wisps of red curls growing on their soft, pink heads. Meanwhile, Eli squirmed, trying to get down from his perch on her left hip.
As she set him on the floor, she waited until he had his balance before letting him go on a headlong dash toward his mother.
“You never told me what a job it is to try to cook with a toddler underfoot.” Judith opened the oven door to check on the green bean casserole. She had quickly learned that this dish was one of Matthew’s favorites.
Annie knelt to put her free arm around her son. “And soon enough there will be three of them running around the kitchen, all wanting to help.” She smiled as she pulled her son close and kissed his cheek.
Judith took four plates from the cupboard and set them on the table, watching Annie. Even though her sister hadn’t slept much last night, with the babies awake and crying at all hours, Annie still kept her good humor. Her face looked tired, though, and Judith was afraid she might fall asleep at the dinner table.
“When I put Eli down for his nap, I’ll take care of the girls so you can get some sleep this afternoon.”
Annie’s eyes widened. “Would you? I don’t remember when I last slept for more than a few minutes at a time.”
Matthew’s feet stamped in the porch outside the kitchen door, Judith’s signal to finish setting the table.
She smiled at Annie as she laid the silverware next to the plates. “I’d love to take care of them for a while. Tiny babies are so sweet.”
Annie cooed at Viola, who was still fussing. “They are sweet, but exhausting.” She kissed Eli’s brown curls as Judith lifted him into his tall stool at the table. “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”
Judith pulled out a chair so Annie could sit down next to her son. “If I wasn’t here, someone else would help you. There are plenty of girls in the church who would have been glad to come.”
“Did you get to know any of them at the Singing on Sunday evening? I didn’t have a chance to ask you about it yesterday.”
Judith drained the potatoes. She was serving them boiled, since she hadn’t had time to mash them. She added a lump of butter to the pot and shook salt and pepper over them.
“I had met Waneta Zook at the morning service, and she introduced me to Hannah Kaufman. There were others there, but I don’t remember all of their names.”
She set the green bean casserole on the table and put the ham on a serving plate. Just as Matthew came in, still damp from washing up on the porch, she dumped the potatoes into a dish and set it on the table. She sliced a loaf of bread while Matthew greeted his family, then she put it on the table and stepped back to evaluate her work.
“Ach, the peaches. I forgot to get them from the cellar.”
“It’s
all right,” Matthew said, pointing to her chair. “I’m too hungry to wait for them.”
After the prayer, and when Judith had gotten the peaches and put them on the table, she sat down next to Eli. Annie had cut up some potatoes and a few green beans and put them on his plate, but they were already nearly gone, so Judith cut some ham into bites for him.
“What were you girls talking about when I came in?” Matthew asked, taking a second helping of the casserole.
“Judith’s first Singing. I was asking if she had made any new friends.”
Matthew grinned across the table at her. “I thought I saw a couple boys buzzing around her when I picked her up.”
Judith felt her face heat. “I had a great time, and I hope I can go to the next one. Waneta Zook is such a nice girl.”
“Guy Hoover seemed to think you were pretty nice, yourself.” Matthew teased her as much as he did his wife.
“Guy is nice,” Judith said. “He was easy to talk to.” Not like Luke Kaufman. She spooned a few peach halves into her sauce dish.
“What did you think of our young people?” Annie asked. Matthew had finished eating, and Annie handed the baby to him.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know more of them. Reuben Stoltzfus kept everything going, and we sang some hymns, and some new songs I had never heard before.” Judith buttered a slice of bread and cut it into pieces for Eli. “I didn’t know it would be so much fun.”
When they had all finished eating, Matthew read from the Christenflicht, the book of prayers that sat with his Bible on the edge of the table, then went back out to work. By that time, Rose was fussing in the other room and Annie went to care for both babies. Judith washed the dishes while Eli played with a spoon and pot on the floor. After a few minutes, Annie came back to sit at the table while she ate another dish of peaches.
“The girls are both asleep,” she said, licking her spoon. “I put them in their cots in the front room.”
“That will be fine.” Judith finished the dishes and sat with her sister for a bit of a rest. “I’ll put Eli down in a few minutes, and you’ll all have a nice long nap.”
Annie scraped the last of the peach juice from the bottom of her dish and Judith put it in the dishwater she had saved.
“I don’t suppose we have any cookies?”
Judith cringed as she got them from the top of the icebox. “I should have remembered to get them out earlier so Matthew could have some.” Eli climbed on her lap to eat his, leaning against her and watching his mother.
“He can have his when he comes in before the afternoon chores,” Annie said, brushing a crumb off her skirt. “And now that it’s just us, tell me about the boys.”
“Boys?”
“I’m sure you met more boys than Guy Hoover. Which did you like best?”
Judith thought about Luke’s blazing blue eyes, squirming a little as she remembered how small she had felt as he had loomed over her. “What do you think about Luke Kaufman?”
Annie leaned her chin in her hand. “He’s very popular with both the fellows and the girls, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve seen young men like that put too much store in what others think of them. Pride can be a real danger.”
Judith nodded, taking the remains of Eli’s cookie out of his hands before he dropped it. He was sound asleep.
Humility was a sign of a true Amish person, but falling into the sin of pride was too easy.
“What about Guy?” Annie said, munching on the last half of her son’s cookie. “He seems like a nice young man.”
“He asked if I would teach him Deitsch. Do you know why he doesn’t know the language already?”
“He didn’t grow up Amish. He’s been working for the Masts since before I married Matthew and moved here. It wasn’t until last year that he moved onto the farm, though.”
“Why? Did he live with his parents before?”
Annie shook her head. “He’s from the Orphan’s Home. He doesn’t have any parents, except for the father who took him to the home when he was a little boy.”
“He’s part of the community, though, isn’t he?” Judith pushed away the memory of Hannah’s face when she claimed that Guy would never be more than an outsider.
“Verna hopes he will choose to be baptized and join the church. If they had been able to adopt him, it would have been much easier for him, and them, too. They have no children of their own, but they love Guy and treat him as a son.”
“Does he want to join church?”
“I don’t know. It isn’t something that happens often, you know, an outsider joining the church. That’s why it would have been easier if David and Verna had been able to adopt him when he first started spending his summers with them as a young boy.”
“Why didn’t they adopt him then?”
Annie stifled a yawn. “I think Verna said his father never signed the papers to release him. But if you teach him Deitsch, it will make it easier for him to fit in. When do you think you’ll start the lessons?”
“I was thinking about some evening this week.”
“That sounds fine. After supper, the twins go down for the night, and so do I. Once Eli is in bed, your time is your own.” Annie pushed back from the table. “I’m going to lie down. Are you sure about taking care of all three children this afternoon?”
Judith tipped her chin toward the sleeping Eli in her lap. “Of course I am. I’ll wake you if I have any problems.”
Annie made her way to her room as Judith carried Eli upstairs to his bedroom across the hall from her own. She laid him on the bed and removed his shoes before she covered him with a warm quilt. She looked out the window as Eli shifted in his sleep, settling into what she hoped would be a long nap. This window faced the road and the Mast farm on the other side.
She wasn’t lonely, but Annie was busy with the babies, and Judith missed the hours she and Esther, her other sister, had spent talking when she was still at home. She needed a friend, and Guy promised to be a good one. At least, she thought he would be from the little time they had spent together.
Guy was right. He needed to learn Deitsch and she could teach him. She had a picture book she had brought to read to Eli, and she could use that to teach him a few words. A warm feeling spread when she thought of the hours they would need to spend together as he learned her language. Their friendship would deepen, and perhaps turn to... Judith felt her cheeks heat in the chilly room.
She frowned, keeping her thoughts stern. There would be no romance during her lessons with Guy. He wanted to learn, that was all. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Besides, he wasn’t Amish. It didn’t matter how attractive or friendly he was, she could never let him get any ideas about wooing her.
Unless he was planning to join the church.
Judith gave her upper arms a brisk rub to chase the chill away, then checked to make sure Eli was covered and warm in his bed. As soon as she found a moment, she would walk over to the Mast farm and see when Guy wanted to start his lessons.
* * *
Guy had just finished the afternoon milking and was carrying the warm pails to the dairy in the corner of the barn when Judith opened the door.
“Verna told me you were here, but she thought you’d still be milking.”
“I just finished, even though the ladies aren’t done eating yet.” Guy pointed an elbow toward the two cows still munching on their supper of timothy hay. “It’s a surprise to see you here.”
“I came over to ask you something.”
Judith followed him into the dairy and watched in silence as he set the milk on the bench, then shrugged off his barn coat and hung it from the hook on the wall. He watched Judith from under the shock of hair that always fell over his eyebrows as he started assembling the cream separator. He tried to catch her eye
, but she seemed distracted. She stepped forward to help him sort the dozens of rings and filters, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Well?” Guy set the filters in their place and attached the big onion-shaped hopper on the top of the cream separator.
“Are you serious about learning Deitsch?” She handed him the clean steel buckets that would hold the separated milk and cream. Guy started the slow, heavy crank, getting the separator up to speed before he poured the milk into it.
“Of course I am.” He lifted the first pail and poured steaming milk into the hopper. “At least, I am if you’re going to teach me.”
Judith leaned on the table, watching until the twin streams of milk and cream came out of the spouts and into the waiting buckets.
“I’ll be happy to do it, if you really want to learn. You’ll need to speak and read Deitsch well if you’re going to join the church.”
Guy poured the second pail of milk into the top of the separator, then continued cranking at the slow, steady speed the machine required. The look in Hannah Kaufman’s eyes as she laughed at him last fall still stung. The only reasons to learn Penn Dutch were so he wouldn’t be laughed at and so he could fit in better with the crowd. He hadn’t thought about joining church. Becoming one of them.
“I don’t need to join the church to fit in around here, do I? The other guys my age haven’t joined.”
“Some of them have.”
Glancing at her face, her pink cheeks told him that he had been too blunt. She was disappointed in him.
“It just isn’t for me.” He tried to make his voice sound casual. The pink had spread to the end of her nose.
“You don’t have to join church,” she said, clearing her throat. “But being able to understand what folks are saying will make living in the community easier. Like when you go to the Singings or to the church meetings.”
He cranked the separator in silence. She wasn’t laughing at him. It seemed like she really wanted to help him. The bonus was that getting Judith to teach him Pennsylvania Dutch meant they would spend time together. Time he could spend learning to know her, getting close to her. Becoming a friend.