When Mom came back holding a clear vase with scalloped edges, Mattie was pleased that she liked them so much.
“How’s this vase?” Mom asked.
Mattie smiled. “That one’s my favorite.”
“I think I’ll put these flowers in the center of our table tonight,” Mom said as she snipped the bottoms of the stems and arranged them in the vase. “Don’t you think they’ll look pretty there?”
Mattie bobbed her head.
“Do you know what type of wildflower these are?” Mom asked, motioning to the purple and pink ones.
“Mark said those kind are called asters,” Mattie answered, pointing to the colorful flowers that looked like a daisy.
“Jah, I do recognize them now,” Mom said. “Do you know that asters are sometimes called Christmas daisies?”
Mattie thought that was special. She sure loved flowers—and Christmas, too.
“You might not realize it yet,” Mom said, “but it’ll be memories like this that’ll make your appreciation for flowers even more meaningful later in life.”
Mattie gave a nod. “I think you might be right.”
“You should get the wildflower book Grandpa and Grandma Miller gave you for your birthday in August. Maybe you can identify the other wildflowers that are in the bouquet with the asters,” Mom suggested.
“I’m goin’ to my room right now to look them up.” Mattie was pleased that her grandparents had given her such a wonderful gift this year on her birthday. The book had lots of interesting pictures of flowers and their descriptions. It even told where in the United States each type of flower could be found. It also had a chart showing what season of the year certain wildflowers could be seen. All this would make it easier to identify the wildflowers she’d brought home today.
When the family sat down to eat supper that evening, Mattie was eager to share what she’d learned about the other types of wildflowers she’d picked along with the asters. I probably should have written my essay on the wildflowers of Ohio, she thought. That would have been an easy one for me to write about, and it would have been real interesting, too.
“Look at the pretty flowers Mattie picked for me on the way home from school today,” Mom announced to everyone after their silent prayer and she’d started passing around the food.
“Jah, and Mark told me the ones that look like daisies are called asters,” Mattie explained. “Then Mom told me that they’re also called Christmas daisies.”
Everyone listened intently as Mattie shared this newfound information.
“Did you find out what the other ones are called?” Mom asked winking at Mattie.
“Uh-huh. Those deep purple ones are called ironweed, and the pink ones with the rounded clusters are called joe–pye,” Mattie was pleased to announce.
“That’s very interesting,” Dad said. “How did you get to know all of that?”
“I looked it up in the wildflower book Grandma and Grandpa Miller gave to me on my birthday.”
Mattie went on to tell that joe-pye sort of smelled like vanilla. She’d also learned that this particular wildflower had once been used for healing purposes by some Native American tribes. The ironweed was also used as medicine during the 1800s and after the Civil War.
“Plus,” Mattie added with a smile, seeing that she had everyone’s full attention, “some of our state’s most beautiful butterflies, including the monarch and tiger swallowtail, love to flit around joe-pye and sip its nectar.”
“What about the Great Spangled Fritillary?” Mark asked. “Remember, we saw one of those the day we sat at the roadside stand.”
“That’s right, I almost forgot. The book said that one of our common butterflies, which is the Great Spangled Fritillary, loves the joe-pye flower, too.” Mattie passed Mark the bowl of macaroni salad. “Danki for reminding me about that one.”
Mattie’s brothers, and even little Ada, clapped after Mattie’s very detailed report on what she’d learned, and Mattie was pleased that her parents nodded their heads in approval.
“It’s a good thing I told Mattie not to pick the goldenrod she saw first,” Mark said. “She forgot that Perry’s allergic to it.”
“You’re right, he most certainly is.” Mom gave Mattie’s arm a little pat. “So I’m glad the bouquet you brought me had no goldenrod in it.”
After supper Mark headed out to the barn. He was happy to see that Ginger was moving around in her stall and didn’t seem to be limping as much. A few more days of resting and she’d be good as new.
Mark was kind of upset that Mattie had gotten so much attention during their meal as she’d told all that information about flowers. Who cares about blumme anyways? Mark thought. I was the one who stopped her from picking the goldenrod. I was also the one who pointed out those other wildflowers that she picked for Mom.
Guess that’s kinda selfish of me, Mark corrected himself. I really should be happy that my sister enjoyed telling all about the flowers.
Turning his thoughts to other things, Mark spotted some wood stacked along the wall on the other side of the barn. He didn’t think Dad would mind if he took one of the smaller pieces, so he helped himself and took a seat on a bale of straw. Then he removed the pocketknife from his pants’ pocket and started to whittle. Mark had never done any wood carving before, but he’d watched Dad and Ike do it many times, and it didn’t look that hard. He was sure he could carve the wood down so that it looked like a wagon. After all, most of the hunk of wood he was using was square-shaped, so he’d only have to carve out the round wheels. If he did a good job, he might even try making a small horse like the one that had been broken.
Just wait till I show everyone the little wagon I carved. Mark was excited to get his carving done. He could then prove to everyone that he knew a thing or two, just like Mattie had tonight when she’d shared all that information about wildflowers.
Mark had only been carving a few minutes when the knife slipped and sliced his thumb.
“Ouch! Ouch!” It really hurt, and Mark winced when he saw blood oozing from the wound.
He jumped up and raced out of the barn, knowing he needed to put a bandage on it to stop the bleeding. Sure hope no one sees me, he thought. Mom and Dad would be upset if they knew what I’d done.
Mark entered the house and hurried down the hall to the bathroom. Then he opened the medicine chest and took out the box of bandages. The cut was bleeding so much that when he tried to put the bandage on, it wouldn’t stick.
“Oh great! Now what am I gonna do?” Mark moaned.
Just then, Ike poked his head into the bathroom. “What’s going on, Mark?” he asked, squinting his eyes. “Did you cut your thumb?”
Mark nodded, wishing he didn’t have to explain. “I—I cut it with my pocketknife when I was tryin’ to carve a little wagon from a hunk of wood I found in the barn.”
Ike took hold of Mark’s hand and studied the wound. “It’s bleeding pretty badly, and I’ll bet it’s gonna need some stitches, too.” He grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around Mark’s thumb. “Come on, little bruder. Let’s go tell Mom and Dad, and hold the towel tight against the cut if you can. It might help slow down the bleeding.”
Mark swallowed hard, struggling not to give in to his tears. He wished now he’d never found that old pocketknife!
CHAPTER 11
The Big Squeeze
“How’s your thumb feeling now?” Mattie asked Mark as they sat at the table eating breakfast a week after Mark had cut his thumb with the pocketknife.
“It doesn’t hurt much anymore, but my arm’s still a little sore from the tetanus shot the doctor gave me,” Mark said. “Sure wish I hadn’t found that knife. It brought me nothin’ but trouble.”
“No,” Dad said with a shake of his head. “The trouble came from you not asking your mamm and me if it was okay for you to keep the knife.”
“Then, trying to carve something without being shown how only made it worse,” Mom added.
Mark nodde
d soberly. “I know, and I’m sorry about that.” He looked over at Dad. “Now that my thumb’s feelin’ better, would you show me how to carve?”
“I’d be happy to,” Dad said. “Just let me know whenever you’re ready—or even Ike could show you how it’s done. He’s pretty good at carving. After all, I taught him everything I know.” Dad looked at Ike and winked. “In the meantime, though, I have some other things I need to be thinking about.”
“Like what?” Calvin wanted to know.
Dad grinned and wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “Like making some freshly squeezed apple cider. After Ike and I are done chopping some firewood, I’m going to get out the old cider press and make sure it’s clean and in good working order. Then this Saturday we’ll spend the day making cider, and in the evening we’ll have a hot dog and marshmallow roast around the bonfire.”
Mattie smacked her lips. “Can we make some popcorn, too?”
“I don’t see why not,” Dad said. “That always goes good with fresh apple cider.” He looked over at Mom and smiled. “Autumn is a great time of the year, isn’t it?”
She gave a nod. “Jah, but then I enjoy all seasons—warm or cold.”
Not me, Mattie thought. I don’t like the cold, snowy winter nearly as much as spring, summer, and fall.
On Saturday there was a lot of excitement at the Miller house as they all gathered around to watch Dad press the apples they’d picked a few days before into cider.
Mom had washed the apples first, of course, and she’d also cut out all the bad spots and bruises. Then the prepared apples were carefully dumped into the main box on the cider press. Inside the box was a grinder that had two small blades attached. One blade cracked the apples open, and the other blade shaved off the skins on the apples. After the apples had been cracked, shaved, and chopped, they fell into a slatted, bottomless tub. When the handle of the press was turned, the apple pulp was squeezed and packed down, making juice that trickled to the bottom of the press. After that, the juice flowed out into a clean container. Then Mom poured the juice into a piece of cheesecloth material to filter out the pulp and sediment. That made the amber-colored cider clean and pure when she poured it into clean, sterilized jars.
“How many apples does it take to make a gallon of fresh cider?” Mark asked.
“About twenty-six pounds of apples.” Dad chuckled. “Now that’s a big squeeze, wouldn’t you say?”
Mark whistled. “Jah. That’s a lot!”
Dad handed everyone a paper cup he’d filled with fresh cider. “Now take a drink and tell me what you think.”
“It’s appenditlich,” Mattie said, licking her lips.
“That’s right,” Mom agreed. “And as it trickles down my throat, I’m thanking God for the variety of delicious foods He has provided for our enjoyment, as well as good health.”
“I like fresh apple cider more than soda pop,” Russell said. “And it’s much better for you, too.”
All heads bobbed in agreement.
“Mark and Mattie, I have a favor to ask,” Mom said, placing one hand on each of the twins’ shoulders.
“What’s that?” they asked at the same time.
“We’re running low on ketchup and mustard for the hot dogs we’ll be roasting later this evening, and I’d like you to go to the store and get one bottle of each.”
“Can’t someone else go?” Mark asked. “I wanna stay here and watch Dad make more cider.”
Mattie nodded. “Same goes for me.”
“Well, I sure can’t go,” Mom said, “because I have several more jars to wash and sterilize for the cider.”
“And I can’t go,” Ike said. “I’m supposed to muck out the barn.”
“Russell and I can’t go to the store either,” Calvin spoke up. “We need to haul all the apple peelings to the compost pile around back.”
“So that leaves you two,” Dad said, looking at Mark and Mattie. “If you ride your bicycle, it shouldn’t take you long at all. And when you get back, you can watch me finish making the cider.”
“Come into the house with me,” Mom said. “I’ll make out a list for you to take to the store and give you the money you’ll need.”
“Why do we need a list?” Mark questioned. “I thought we were just goin’ for mustard and ketchup. I’m sure Mattie and I can remember those two items without havin’ a list.”
Mom smiled and patted the top of Mark’s head. “I just thought of a few other things I could use as well.”
“Will there be room for everything in our bicycle basket?” Mattie asked.
“I believe so,” Mom said. “There aren’t that many other things I need. I’ll give you a canvas satchel to take along, and if there isn’t room for everything in the basket, you can put the rest of the things in the satchel and ride home with it hanging from one of your handlebars.”
“Okay, Mom,” Mattie said.
Mark and Mattie followed Mom up to the house, and after she’d given them the list and money, she said, “If there’s any money left over you can each buy a piece of candy.”
“Danki, Mom,” the twins both said.
As Mark and Mattie pedaled their bicycle toward the store, they talked about the kind of candy they would buy.
“I want chocolate,” Mark said.
“And I want strawberry,” Mattie put in.
Mark chuckled. “I figured you would.”
“Speaking of candy,” Mattie said, “it was nice of our teacher to bring me a piece of strawberry-flavored candy the day she said she would.”
“Jah. Anna Ruth’s a real nice teacher,” Mark agreed.
By the time the twins pulled up to the bicycle rack in front of the store, Mark’s stomach was growling. “I’m hungerich,” he told Mattie. “Mom gave us plenty of money, so I think I’ll buy myself somethin’ to eat.”
“Mom said we’re supposed to buy everything on her list, and if there’s enough money left over, we can buy some candy,” Mattie reminded him.
“I know, but if I don’t eat somethin’ right now I might not have enough strength left to pedal home. Besides, one piece of candy won’t be enough.” Mark tugged on Mattie’s hand. “Let’s go to the snack bar and see what we can find.”
Mattie followed Mark into the store, and when they stepped up to the snack bar, Mark pointed to the tubs of ice cream. “Let’s get a cone. I’ll get chocolate, and you can have strawberry. Oh, and let’s order some soda pop, too. After that long ride, I’m kinda thirsty.”
Mattie looked hesitant at first, but she finally nodded.
After the twins got their cones and soda pop, they took a seat on a bench outside the store to eat their tasty treats.
“Yum … This is so good.” Mattie swiped her tongue over the strawberry ice cream. “It’s almost as good as the kind Dad makes.”
Mark bobbed his head. “You’re right about that.”
After they finished eating their cones and drinking their soda pop, they went back inside and looked for the items they’d been sent there to get. They found everything on Mom’s list, but when they got to the checkout counter and the clerk told them how much they owed, Mark knew they were in trouble. “We don’t have enough money to pay for all this,” he whispered to Mattie. “Now what are we gonna do?”
Her eyes widened. “I—I don’t know. I really don’t have a clue.”
“Guess we’re just gonna have to put some of this stuff back on the shelf. I can’t think of anything else to do.”
Mattie’s eyebrows drew together. “What’s Mom gonna say when we get home and don’t have everything on her list?”
Mark shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. She’ll probably be mad, but if we get the ketchup and mustard, which we need for our meal tonight, maybe she won’t be too upset. After all, those were the two most important items.”
“True.” Mattie smiled at the store clerk and said, “My brother and I will be right back.” She scooped all their grocery items back into the cart and quickly pushed it aw
ay.
“Make sure you put everything back on the shelf where you found it,” the clerk called after them.
“We will,” Mark and Mattie said in unison.
After Mark added up the price of each thing on the list Mom had given them, they knew how much they could spend.
“Looks like we’re gonna have to put the paper plates and plastic cups back on the shelf,” Mark said. “Then we should have enough money to pay for the ketchup, mustard, potato chips, and hot dog buns.”
“That should be okay,” Mattie said. “We can use Mom’s regular dishes to eat off tonight.”
The twins went back to the register and paid for the things in their cart. Then they carried their sack out to the bike.
“Look, the sack fits just perfectly inside our basket,” Mark said as he climbed on the front of the bicycle.
“Maybe it’s a good thing we couldn’t get everything on Mom’s list, or it wouldn’t have fit in the basket very well,” Mattie said, positioning herself on the back of the bike. “I think it would have been harder to pedal if I’d had to put groceries in the satchel Mom gave us and then hang it over my handlebars. It could have bumped my knee.”
Mark made no reply. He was almost sure that Mom would be upset when she found out they’d spent some of the money on ice cream and didn’t have enough to buy all the things she’d asked them to get. He wished now that they could go back and do it over again, because if they could, he wouldn’t have bought anything to eat or drink.
“It’s not fair that we have to do the dishes while everyone else is sitting around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows,” Mattie complained as she reached into the drainer for another dish to dry.
“Mom thinks it’s fair,” Mark said, looking out the window above the sink, watching Dad put another marshmallow on Perry’s stick. “Our punishment for spending some of the money she gave us on ice cream and soda pop, instead of keeping it for the things she wanted, is havin’ to wash and dry the dishes and go without any dessert tonight.”
Bumpy Ride Ahead! Page 9