The Amish Christmas Candle

by Long, Kelly; Beckstrand, Jennifer; Baker, Lisa Jones

  Yost frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I may be old, but I’m not feebleminded.” She disappeared into the house again and came back with the jingle bells and her money-stuffed Bible. “Show me where it says we can’t put jingle bells on the sleigh.”

  Yost shook his head and cracked a smile. “It says nothing about jingle bells in the scriptures.”

  “Gute,” Bitsy said. “I was beginning to think I missed something.”

  “Though it does mention tinkling cymbals.”

  “Two completely different things.” She closed her door, grabbed one side of Levi’s basket handle, and shook her bells all the way down the steps. She attached the jingle bells to Rocky’s harness and climbed in the seat next to Levi.

  Yost turned the horse around, and the sleigh glided down the lane of Honeybee Farm. Bitsy started singing “Jingle Bells” the minute the sleigh hit the snow-covered dirt road. She had true pitch, but she made her voice warble and soon had Levi laughing hysterically.

  The sound of Levi’s laughter loosened some sort of strap that had tightened around Yost’s heart when he’d seen that beanie. Bitsy was odd and rebellious and unconventional, but she cared deeply about Levi. Yost could mostly overlook her many flaws. She had a heart of gold, and it covered a multitude of sins.

  They rode north, staying to the back roads. They were snow-packed so Rocky had an easy time pulling the sleigh. Yost snapped the reins and spurred Rocky into a trot. He had to press his hat down over his ears so it wouldn’t blow off his head. So did Levi. He looked over at Bitsy and smiled. She held on tight to the side of the sleigh and smiled back. He lost the ability to breathe, and flying over the snow had nothing to do with it.

  Bitsy’s hat stayed tightly on her head, which was one of the advantages of a beanie even though Yost frowned on them. The bells attached to Rocky’s harness jingled merrily and made Yost feel like laughing out loud.

  Bitsy laid her cake on the floor of the sleigh and raised her hands high over her head. “Woohoo!” she called.

  Yost’s laughter finally escaped. “What was that?”

  “It’s a roller-coaster trick I learned,” Bitsy said. “It’s more exciting if you don’t hold on.”

  Grinning like the cat who ate the canary, Levi secured his hat firmly in one fist and raised the other hand high over his head. “Hooray!” he yelled. The sleigh suddenly lurched forward, and Levi caught his breath and grabbed onto the dashboard. “It is funner,” he said, as if he was completely astonished, “but a lot more dangerous, especially if you don’t want to fall out. You try it, Dawdi.”

  Yost shook his head. “I’m the driver.”

  “Cum, Yost. Don’t you want some excitement in your life?”

  “Nae. My life is exciting enough.”

  Bitsy snorted. “Nights spent reading Die Botschaft newspaper do not count as exciting.”

  How could Bitsy know that? He was going to have to install some blinds in his front room window. “Sometimes they have recipes,” he said, trying to keep the sulk out of his voice.

  “And poetry.” She gave him a look that said he wasn’t fooling anybody.

  “Come on, Dawdi,” Levi said. “I’ll hold the reins, and you lift your hands in the air.”

  It seemed harmless enough. Yost couldn’t think of anything in the Ordnung that would forbid having a little extra fun on a sleigh ride, and Levi would be fine with the reins for a few seconds. “Okay,” he said, carefully transferring the reins to Levi’s outstretched hands. “Take her nice and easy with a light grip.”

  “I can do it, Dawdi.” Levi held the reins as if he had a baby rabbit in each hand. Rocky slowed to a trot. Even better.

  Yost made a big show of tightening his Velcro gloves. Just to prove to Bitsy that he was at least as exciting as any fifty-five-year-old and braver than men half his age, Yost threw caution to the wind and stood up. Surely it was safe at ten miles an hour. He lifted his hands high into the air while a strangled whoop clawed its way out of his throat.

  Levi eyed him with awe written across his face, as if his dawdi had done something amazing. Yost couldn’t help but be proud that he could still impress his grandson. He raised his hands even higher and waved them back and forth as if he were trying to fan up a breeze. Then he leaned from side to side, showing off his exceptional balance and amazing courage. He grinned at Bitsy, who raised an eyebrow as a signal she knew he was showing off, and gave a loud whoop to the sky.

  Unfortunately, just as he turned his face upward, the sleigh glided over a bump in the snow that catapulted Yost into the air and out of the sleigh before he even had a chance to react. His landing was soft, except where his nose hit something hard just underneath the snow. Oy, anyhow! It stung all the way to the back of his head.

  Levi yelled and stopped the horse as Yost pushed himself from the ground and sat up, not even caring that the snow was soaking through to his backside and blood was dripping from his nose onto his shirt. He definitely needed to stop seeing Bitsy. His laundry pile was growing bigger and bigger.

  Levi and Bitsy jumped from the sleigh and ran in his direction. Well, Levi ran. Bitsy trudged slowly toward him, doing her best to suffocate a smile that persistently tried to take over her face. He should have been offended that she took so much amusement in his misfortune, but one look at her face and the laughter bubbled up inside him. He’d made quite a fool of himself.

  Bitsy’s smile finally broke free. “You flew ten feet into the air.”

  Yost chuckled. “You don’t seem to care that I might have broken my nose.”

  She waved away his scolding. “Ach. You didn’t break your nose. You’d be flat on the ground writhing in pain if you’d broken your nose. You’re fine.”

  “Are you okay, Dawdi?” Levi said, kneeling in the snow next to him. “Your nose is bleeding.”

  Yost shot a glance at Bitsy. “I think it’s broken.”

  Bitsy pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket. “It’s not broken. He’ll be fine unless he freezes to death.” Bitsy laid a hand on Levi’s shoulder and pinned him with a dramatic look. “You should never sit in the snow. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

  She handed the handkerchief to Yost. He took it and tried to mop up the blood on his face. It was fortunate his coat had been unzipped. The blood on his shirt would wash out easier than blood on his coat. There were a few drops of blood in the snow and several impressive spots on his shirt, but the bleeding had already slowed considerably. His nose was definitely not broken, and they wouldn’t have to cut their sleigh ride short to go to the hospital.

  Levi stood and reached out his hand. “Here, Dawdi.”

  Yost took Levi’s hand, although if he actually put any pressure on his grandson’s hand, he would have pulled him into the snow with him. He pushed himself from the ground with his free hand and stood with a groan. He had landed in the snow, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a bruise or two by the end of the day. “I’m too old for this,” he said, rubbing a particularly hard knot in his lower back.

  Bitsy stepped back, folded her arms, and studied him like she might regard one of her cats. “Jah, you are. I don’t know what you were thinking, standing up like that. It was wonderful foolhardy.”

  Levi frowned, forced a smile onto his face, and tried to be encouraging. “You were so brave, Dawdi. And then you sort of flew like a bird.”

  Bitsy pursed her lips and nodded. “You’re right, Levi, and I’ll give credit where credit is due. Any ballerina would be proud of your graceful landing, Yost. And you haven’t even had any formal training.”

  “Ballerina?” Levi said.

  “A dancer. Someone who is trained to jump high into the air and land without hurting herself.”

  Yost rubbed another sore spot farther up his spine. He was going to ache for days. “I’m glad you admire my talents.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Bitsy said. “But at least you didn’t die or break your neck. It would have been hard for Levi and me
to load your body in the sleigh. And what a chore to keep the cats from licking you.”

  Pain traveled down his spine when he laughed. “Please, if I ever die at your house, keep the cats away.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  With Levi and Bitsy close behind, Yost limped to the sleigh where the cats and the Bee Sting Cake waited patiently for them. For all the soreness in his back, the icy moisture seeping through his trousers was the biggest discomfort. They would have to cut their sleigh ride short. He wouldn’t be able to guide the horse if he was shivering with cold.

  Bitsy picked up the reins. “I think I’d better drive.” She eyed his wet trousers and shook her head. “You’ve gotten yourself into a pickle. We’ll have to head straight home before your trousers freeze to your legs.”

  “Aw,” Levi whined, “do we have to? We were having so much fun.”

  Yost zipped up his coat and wrapped his arms around himself. “We should probably go. I don’t want to get frostbite.”

  Bitsy jiggled the reins to get Rocky moving, then her eyes seemed to catch fire with excitement. “There is a small hunter’s cabin not ten minutes north of here. We could build a fire and eat cake while you dry off.”

  Levi burst into a smile. “It would be like camping.”

  “I don’t camp anymore,” Yost said. It was uncomfortable and cold, and he always came home smelling like a campfire.

  “We’ve got cake and a basket of cats. It might be an exciting afternoon adventure.” Bitsy nudged Levi with her elbow. “Your dawdi needs some excitement or he’s going to turn into a boring old man.”

  “I am not,” Yost protested, although he wasn’t so sure it hadn’t already happened. He had made a gute life with Ruth. They had camped, played games, worked side by side, and raised children. Nowadays, he faithfully planted crops, worked the farm, went to gmay, and took a nap every Sunday afternoon. He made himself hot dogs and macaroni and cheese every other night for dinner, alternating with ramen soup on off days—except when Hannah or Reuben invited him over. He read Die Botschaft faithfully, including the poetry, trimmed his beard every morning after chores, and memorized Bible verses every night before he went to bed. He liked his life. What was wrong with being a boring old man?

  He nearly told Bitsy to turn the sleigh toward home, just to be contrary, but maybe he wasn’t quite finished with excitement in his life. He was only fifty-five. Not even one toe was dangling over the edge of his grave yet. There was nothing about camping forbidden in the Ordnung. “Okay,” he said, tapping Levi’s hat more firmly on his head. “But that cake better be worth the trip.”

  Bitsy nodded. “It is. Many a boy has fallen in love with a girl because of that cake. You won’t be disappointed.”

  To his dismay and frustration, Yost’s throat constricted. Why would he react that way just because Bitsy said something about love? For sure and certain, he wouldn’t fall in love with Bitsy because of a cake.

  He took a deep breath.

  Nobody was going to fall in love with anybody over a Bee Sting Cake.

  Bitsy guided Rocky between two trees at the edge of the road. The going was slower because the horse would have to plow through deeper snow. Bitsy glanced in his direction. “The cabin is stocked with matches and firewood. You’ll be able to melt that ice off your beard in a trice.”

  Rocky pulled the sleigh through the woods until they came upon the cabin standing watch under a canopy of bare and massive trees. Well . . . cabin was quite a grand word for what stood in front of them. It was a hut, a small hut, not more than a dozen feet across and a dozen feet wide. Time and weather had worn the wood slats to a silvery gray, and they looked as if they would topple over with one gute, stiff wind—or even a gentle breeze.

  “Ach, du lieva!” Levi said, not seeming to care that the cabin walls listed to one side. He jumped from the sleigh and jogged to the front door. “What a wunderbarr place! Look, Dawdi. It has a door knocker.”

  Yost smiled at his enthusiastic grandson, almost longing for the days when life and things like a rickety old cabin held so much promise, even if Levi would not be allowed to set foot inside that thing.

  Bitsy tied the reins and picked up her basket of cats. “See if somebody’s home,” she said, obviously not caring about the danger.

  Levi lifted the knocker and banged it hard against the door. No answer. None of them had expected one. Levi skipped around the cabin—hut—no doubt looking for something exciting lurking about in the bushes.

  Bitsy eyed Yost with suspicion. Maybe she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t sit there with your mouth open like a walleye. Let’s go in and get a fire going.”

  “Who is going to pull me out of the rubble if the wind blows it over?”

  Bitsy jumped from the sleigh with her basket. “Levi gets pulled out first. After that, I can’t promise anything.”

  Yost planted his bottom more firmly on the seat, which was extra chilly with wet trousers. “Levi and I will stay here while you die in a cabin accident.”

  Bitsy attempted to look deeply offended, but she only managed to seem mildly irritated. “You’d let me die alone?”

  “Someone needs to watch after Levi.”

  “I’ve stayed here with my girls at least a dozen times during the deer hunt. It hasn’t fallen on me yet.”

  Yost’s eyebrows nearly flew off his face. “You’ve been on a deer hunt with your girls?”

  Bitsy hooked the basket handle over one arm and picked up the cake with her free hand. “Nae. We’ve stayed here during the deer hunt. I don’t believe in guns.”

  “But . . . what do you mean? Did you hunt deer? What about your girls?”

  Bitsy gave him her I’m-going-to-lose-my-patience-with-you look. “We used to come out here during the deer hunt and scare the deer away so the hunters couldn’t kill them. But don’t worry. We wore the bright orange hunting gear so we wouldn’t get shot.”

  Yost didn’t even know where to begin to make sense of anything Bitsy said. “You scared deer away?”

  “We made a lot of noise. I urinated on several bushes, but the girls wouldn’t do it with me. The deer catch the scent and run away.”

  Yost knew he should be horrified at the thought of Bitsy . . . he wouldn’t even think about it . . . but before he could open his mouth to express his deep and appalled disapproval, laughter burst from his lips, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He laughed hard and loud, so loud he probably scared not only the deer, but the hibernating bears, the badgers, and the bunny rabbits. “Bitsy,” he breathed between fits of laughter, “you are the strangest . . . funniest . . . most lovable woman I have ever met.”

  She scrunched her mouth to one side of her face to stop the upward curl of her lips. “Everybody has to do their part to save the wildlife. Soon there won’t be a patch of grass left in the whole state.”

  Yost glanced at Levi, who was busying himself collecting kindling under the snow for the fire they were not going to build in that tumble-down hut. He shook his head as his laughter subsided. “I am very glad my grandson didn’t hear that.”

  Bitsy raised an eyebrow. “Why? Don’t you want him doing his part to save the wildlife?”

  Yost chuckled. “Not that part.”

  Bitsy turned toward the hut. “Cum. We don’t want to disappoint Levi, and you will get wonderful cold without a fire and a piece of cake.”

  Yost tilted his head to one side and studied the cabin again. With his head tilted, the cabin looked more upright, but still apt to fall over. “It doesn’t look safe.”

  Bitsy blew air from between her lips. “A man who doesn’t have any more sense than to bleed on himself doesn’t know what’s safe and what’s not.” She raised her eyes to the sky. “Dear Lord, I’m usually very patient, but Yost will die of frostbite and stubbornness if you don’t coax him into this cabin right now. Amen.”

  She was so determined and so obstinate, Yost had to laugh again. But if she was persistent enough to pray for him, he shoul
d be pliable enough to bend in her direction. He could bend when he had a mind to. And he didn’t want to disappoint Levi.

  Besides, the walls of the cabin were so thin that if they collapsed, they might get a splinter or two but no bruises.

  He gingerly stepped down from the sleigh and took the basket of cats from Bitsy. It wasn’t all that heavy, but she shouldn’t have to carry everything. Bitsy lifted the door latch, and the three of them tiptoed into the cabin just in case a heavy step would make it fall down.

  To Yost’s surprise, the cabin had a wood floor, old and weathered, but tight and smooth. It didn’t creak. That was something. The man who laid the floor had obviously not erected the walls.

  A small window sat in the wall across from the door, and a shiny potbelly stove stood in the corner of the room with firewood stacked shoulder high in a neat row against the wall.

  With eyes turned upward, Levi walked around the room as if he were taking a tour of a castle. “This is the best cabin ever,” he whispered. “Is it yours, Bitsy?”

  Bitsy set her basket on the floor. All of the cats but Farrah Fawcett jumped out and began exploring the small space. “Ach. My dawdi’s fater built this cabin many years ago, but whatever hunter happens upon it is welcome to use it as long as they stock it with firewood and sweep up after themselves.”

  She set the cake on the floor and opened the stove. “My dat bought this stove not two years ago. The old one smoked something wonderful.”

  At least Yost wouldn’t have to fret about a fire in addition to a collapse.

  Levi helped Bitsy crinkle a few pieces of newspaper into the stove, and Yost crammed in as much firewood as would fit. They needed a big fire. Both he and Levi were starting to shiver. Bitsy pulled a box of matches from the top of the woodpile and lit the newspaper. It popped into flame, and they watched it until the fire took hold of the wood, crackling like a strip of bacon on the pan.

  “There. We should be melted in no time,” Bitsy said. “When it gets warm enough to sit down, we’ll eat our cake and tell ghost stories. How does that sound?”