by Gayle Roper
“You didn’t know any better.”
Rachel sighed. “Keep those frozen peas on your eye, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She walked down the hall toward her room.
“I like him,” Johnny called after her. “He fits.”
She took a deep breath but didn’t respond as she tried to figure out just where he fit.
Chapter 26
Rachel and her mom put out an early supper of ham, noodles with burnt butter, green beans, fresh sliced tomatoes, Rachel’s applesauce, and Mom’s blueberry pie. Five o’clock in the evening. Early for a farm dinner with there still being several hours of daylight.
Rachel told herself to take leftovers home for Johnny. One day after his beating he was very sore—and grumpy. He’d slept while she was at school, and now he was bored.
Every time she went to check on him, he held up a hand. “Don’t ask, I’m fine.”
She looked across the kitchen at her mother. If she knew what had happened to her son…
“So how is school going?” Mom asked as she made room on the table for the platter of ham.
“I love the little ones” Rachel put Johnny from her mind. “They sit there round-eyed, trying to figure out what’s going on with everyone speaking English instead of German.”
“It’s the first time some of them even hear it.” Mom put the ham in front of Datt’s chair. “I always thought it was good to teach a few English words before school starts. Bathroom. Sit. Help. Lunch. Just some to help with the transition. That’s why we made all you kinder learn the Lord’s Prayer in English before you went off your first day.”
“It doesn’t take them long to catch up.”
Levi walked in, shedding sawdust in spite of his best efforts to brush off outside.
Rachel smiled at him. “Making more outhouses?”
“Levi, go outside and brush off better,” Mom ordered.
“Come on.” Rachel walked to the door. “I’ll brush off your back.”
He stood patiently as she flicked away the remaining sawdust and then followed her back inside. He held his hand out thigh high. “This bunch is so tall. They can put them in their gardens or use them as lawn ornaments or something.”
“Who would want a little outhouse in their front yard?” Mom looked perplexed.
“I don’t know, but they do,” Levi said with a grin.
Rachel started pouring water into the glasses. “It was clever to think of them, Levi.”
Levi went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “Davy’s starting to make bird houses. He says he’s saving his money for a sulky cart.”
Rachel laughed. “Just because Datt will buy a retired racer for the buggy doesn’t mean he’ll approve a retired cart.”
“Why not?”
“You think the bishop will approve you racing up and down the street?” Rachel said.
Mom clapped her hands. “Everyone to the table.”
“It’s better than a car,” Levi said.
Datt took his seat at the head of the table. “No car.”
“A sulky cart?” Davy asked hopefully.
“I will think on it as I think on the saddle for Levi to become a cowboy.”
And the discussion died.
They all took seats, Mom and Datt, Rachel, Sally, Eban, Ruthie, Levi, David, and little Abner. All bowed their heads for a silent blessing. The food was passed in silence and everyone ate quickly and efficiently. In no time the plates were empty. When Datt swallowed his last bite, he bowed his head for a second silent prayer, and everyone followed suit. Rachel prayed the Lord’s Prayer and then added a spontaneous prayer like Rob prayed. Thanks for this food, Lord. The ham was delicious. And thanks for all my family.
She glanced around the table, thankful no one saw into her mind and knew of her Englisch prayer. Just so none of them noticed her hot face, flushed at her own audacity.
Footsteps sounded on the porch and Jonah and his family entered.
Datt stood. “All right, Jonah. This is your project. Tell us what we are to do.”
Jonah pointed to the yard. “That flatbed is full of small trees. We have to plant them on the steep hill behind the new business complex over on 322. They’re to help prevent erosion.”
“So we’re your free labor,” Levi said to a laugh from everyone.
“You are. And if Miller’s Nursery keeps growing, you can work for me for pay some day.”
“Probably not. I’m going to work on the farm with Datt.”
“Gut.” Datt took his hat from the peg by the door. “I need a strong young back.”
Rachel slipped a black sweater on over her oldest dress. She reached behind her head and retied the scarf covering her hair and followed everyone out to the buggies and wagons. Mom stood on the porch with Jonah’s children and an unhappy Abner and waved them on their way.
Rachel climbed in Jonah’s buggy with Sally, Ruthie, and Miriam, with Eban driving. Jonah drove the flatbed with the trees while Datt, Levi, and Davy crowded into the seat of an open cart. With a flick of the reins the procession moved down the farm lane and onto the road toward their destination. Jonah led them a little over a mile to a mulch-covered walking path that wound its way along the top of the hill behind the businesses.
“I would not want to mow that,” Levi announced as he climbed from the cart and surveyed the incline.
Rachel pictured herself trying to keep her push mower from sliding downhill. “Remember, Levi, when you and Davy were little and mowed the grass together?”
Levi grinned. “I had to pull the rope tied to the mower.”
“And I had to push the mower,” Davy said. “We were a good team.”
From his place standing on the flatbed, Jonah began giving instructions. “Rachel and Davy, unload the trees along the path. There are sixty trees to set in the ground this evening, and all have to be staked and protected. I’ll dig the holes, and the rest of you plant the little saplings.”
Jonah jumped to the ground and handed the reins of the flatbed to Rachel. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on his gas-powered auger and started digging holes in the hard earth.
Rachel climbed up on the flatbed, flicked the reins over the rumps of the big work horses, and drove slowly along the path. Davy walked beside her, lifting out flowering pears and weeping cherries, redbuds and magnolias, maples and oaks, all about a foot high, depositing them along the edge of the path.
As soon as Jonah dug a hole, one of the others set a sapling carefully in it and tamped the dirt around it. Next came a white plastic cylinder over the small tree to protect it and a stake to hold everything in place on the hill. The last step was a piece of mesh placed over the cylinder to keep out critters, bugs, anything that might hurt the fragile plant.
When Davy set out the last of the saplings, Rachel tied the horses to a tree and began helping with the planting. She looked along the hillside at the sweating Millers, bending, planting, staking.
Gott, I love these people so much!
Before the sun was on the horizon, the trees were planted and the caravan was on its way back to the farm. This time Rachel sat with Jonah on the flatbed as they rolled slowly past the dairy cows spending the mild night in the fields.
They drove past a pasture of goats of all colors and sizes, and Rachel laughed at the goat standing on top of the little storage shed. They passed the Wickersham’s farm with its pristine white fences and show horses. When the Wickershams bought their farm and actually named it and hung a fancy sign that read Day’s End Farm, Datt had shaken his head.
“Those Englisch. They don’t even know that with farming there is no end. But they will learn, ja?”
They drove by Jonah’s place where the closed wagon that carried the benches for church was parked in his yard. By Sunday the main floor of Jonah’s house would be emptied of all furniture and filled with the benches for service. Next week the wagon, loaded again with the benches, would be driven to the home of the next to host the Gmay.
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They were almost to the farm lane when a car pulled up beside them and slowed instead of passing as most cars did. An extremely handsome man behind the wheel studied them in a rude manner, his gaze moving from Jonah to Rachel and back.
He rolled down his window. “You know the Millers?”
“Who’s asking?” Jonah called, pulling the horses to a stop.
“I am.”
“And you are?”
The man flapped his hand, waving away the question. Muscles rippled on his forearm as he gestured. “I’m looking for Johnny Miller.”
There was something about the way he said Johnny’s name that made Rachel’s stomach twist. Oh, Johnny, last night wasn’t enough?
“I haven’t seen Johnny Miller in a long time,” Jonah answered truthfully and with a determined pleasantness. “He doesn’t live here anymore.”
“But I bet you know where we can get hold of him.”
“I’m sorry.” Jonah shook his head.
“Phone number.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“Address.
“I can honestly tell you I don’t know it.” Jonah flicked the reins gently on the horses’ rumps and the flatbed began moving again.
Rachel watched the man with both fear and fascination even as she prayed he wouldn’t ask her. She couldn’t lie, but she didn’t want to admit Johnny was sleeping mere yards from where they were.
The man’s gaze settled on her. “How about you? You know where he is?”
“Me?” Her voice squeaked.
“Leave her alone,” Jonah said. “How would she know if I don’t?”
How indeed.
The man looked skeptical, but a car behind him honked. With a frustrated look that said he wasn’t happy, he had no choice but to drive on.
Rachel watched the rear lights of the car disappear around the curve. Was he one of the men from the parking lot? If he was, he hadn’t recognized her any more than she recognized him. If he wasn’t the same man, just how many people were chasing Johnny?
“What’s Johnny mixed up in?” Jonah looked at her and for a moment she thought he expected an answer. When she realized he didn’t, her heart settled a bit.
“Whatever it is, it’s bad.” She knew that much for a certainty.
Jonah shook his head. “I worry about him. He has such bad friends.”
Rachel couldn’t disagree. “Or enemies. That man didn’t strike me as friendly.”
Jonah rubbed his beard. “When I ran around, I went to barn dances and drank beer. You went to Max’s and used the computer and watched TV.”
“I don’t watch TV.” The one thing she wasn’t guilty of, and he refused to believe her.
“Not now maybe, but Johnny—I worry he’s involved in illegal things. I don’t want to see my brother in jail.”
“I know. I worry about him too.” The thought of jail made her shudder.
“If we worry, you can imagine how Mom and Datt worry. I want him to be the prodigal son who comes home.”
They turned into the farm lane in silence.
Rachel looked at the farm, steady and stable as the people who worked it. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”
“I don’t know, but at least he never took his vows. He can come visit if he wants to.”
And if she went, she couldn’t.
Chapter 27
As soon as Rachel walked in the house after the tree planting, she heard her cell phone ringing. Her phone never rang. No one in her world knew she had a phone nor did most of them have phones, so no one called her.
Phones represented the Englisch world, not her world. Phones were for Monday and Friday evenings, not Thursday.
She pulled her scarf off and used it to wipe her hot face as she grabbed her purse from the counter. Her dirty fingernails stared up at her as she pulled her phone out, surprised it had any power.
“Hello?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you for like hours!”
“Amy?” She almost didn’t recognize her friend’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” A loud sniff echoed in Rachel’s ear.
“Are you crying?”
“Oh, Rachel! I don’t know what to do.”
Rachel’s heart tripped. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to your family?”
“It’s Bagel!”
Visions of a car hitting the animal drew themselves in vivid color. She saw Amy on her knees hugging her injured or dead pet. She braced herself for the worst. “What happened?”
There was a long, shaky breath as Amy tried to get control. “He b-barks!”
On cue, barks sounded down the line. Rachel felt tension drain from her shoulders. The animal was alive and well enough to bark. That was good.
“Shush, baby, shush,” Amy said.
Bagel quieted.
“Bagel barks.” Rachel repeated, not seeing the problem. Barking was what dogs did.
“All the time! The old lady who lives on the ground floor complained to the landlord about him. She says he barks all day.” Amy sounded offended on Bagel’s behalf.
“Does he?”
“Not when I’m home. He’s as good as gold when I’m there. I don’t know about when I’m at work or class.”
“He probably misses you,” Rachel guessed.
“I know. And he’s in a strange new place. And now I have to get rid of him or we have to m-move.” Again the wail.
“Oh, Amy, I’m sorry.” Though she could see the point of view of the lady downstairs. A dog barking all day would be nerve-racking to say the least.
“I can’t get rid of him. I won’t. ”
Rachel pictured the happy reunion at Amy’s parents’ home when they’d rescued the dog from certain death. “Of course you can’t get rid of him.”
“I love him. He’s what kept me sane back home. Him and Jesus.”
Rachel wondered how Jesus felt about being paired with a beagle, but decided He was understanding of Amy’s issues and hurt.
“And I don’t want to move,” Amy continued. “I can’t afford to move. The security deposit and the first month’s rent and the animal fees for another place? I don’t have it. I don’t. What am I going to do?”
Rachel heard the despair in her friend’s voice. “Oh, Amy, I wish there was something I could do to help.”
Amy jumped, ready with the answer. “I thought maybe you could keep him. You liked him on moving day.”
Rachel thought a more accurate way to look at it was that she didn’t dislike him on moving day. Indoor pets still seemed strange to her.
“I mean,” Amy went on, “no one would hear him bark at your house, right? Except the lady you live with, but she seems nice enough. Maybe she won’t mind.”
The lady she lived with? “I don’t—” Understanding struck. Max. Amy thought she lived at Max’s because that’s where she had dropped her after class and picked her up for the movies.
But how did she meet Max? She had to have met her to know she was nice, but she had never come inside. “Amy, where are you?”
“I’m parked down the street from your house waiting for you to come home. I need to t-talk—” And she started to cry again.
“Amy, I am home.” She walked to the front window and looked out. She could see a car parked on the road just past Max’s.
“No, you’re not. I went to your house and the lady there said she didn’t know where you were.”
Oh, boy. Poor Max. “That’s because I really live across the street and two houses down. The house with the gardens.”
“But—”
“I’ll explain. Come on over.”
They hung up and Rachel stood with her eyes closed.
Her worlds were about to collide.
Rachel looked down at herself. Not only was she wearing Amish clothing but old and very dirty Amish clothing. She had dirt under her nails and her hair was pulled back. She grabbed her scarf and tied it on. She was
about to test Amy’s BFF claim.
She walked onto the porch and watched Amy pull into her drive. Amy climbed from the car and walked to the house, Bagel at her side. She stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up. Bagel had no hesitance. He surged up the steps, his toenails clicking on the treads.
“This is your house? Not there?” Amy pointed down the street at Max’s brightly lit home.
“Come on in. I’ll try to explain.”
Rachel led the way inside. The warm glow of the lantern on the end table beside her favorite chair in front of the fireplace lit the room. It wasn’t a bright light like electricity gave but a soothing light. And the soft hiss of the lantern was reassuring somehow. It was the sound of home, of family, of a safe and gentle childhood. A Plain life.
Amy stood in the doorway and looked around. Then she studied Rachel.
“Is your electricity out?” She pointed to the lantern.
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t have electricity.”
Amy nodded. “And that’s an Amish dress.”
Rachel looked down at the dirty apron and the faded dress. “A pretty ratty one. I was just helping my family plant trees for my brother Jonah’s new client.”
“You planted trees? I thought you were a teacher.”
“I am. I teach at the Amish school.”
Amy looked like she suddenly got it. “And you’ve got to wear their clothes.”
Rachel smiled. “No. These are my everyday clothes. At least clean ones are.”
Amy’s mouth dropped open. “You’re Amish?”
“I’m Amish.”
“And you planted trees in a dress?”
Rachel smiled. “I do everything in a dress.”
“Where’s your hat or whatever you call it?” She waved her hand around her head.
“My kapp, you mean.”
“Whatever.”
“I use this scarf as a covering when I work. I wear my kapp when I’m not going to get it dirty.”
“Do you wear it when you teach?”
“I do.”
“I always wondered how you could teach if you’re just starting college. That school board line was good.”
“It’s true. The school board asked me to teach at the school.”
“Uh-huh. How’d you get into college with a—what is it—an eighth grade education?”