Look Out, Lancaster County

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Look Out, Lancaster County Page 10

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  Rachel figured her brother only said that because he hoped she would buy him some ice cream. “I’ll think about it,” she muttered.

  “What did you say, Rachel?” Pap asked.

  “It was nothing important.” She looked up at her father and smiled. “What time should we be back at the buggy?”

  “Why don’t we meet here at five o’clock?” Mom suggested. “Then we can get a bite to eat on the way home.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Jacob grabbed Rachel’s hand and tugged it. “Let’s get going, little sister.”

  As Rachel and Jacob walked away, Rachel spotted an English girl who looked to be about her age. The girl wore blue jeans and a pink T-shirt, and her blond hair was in a ponytail. She held a small, white dog.

  “What a cute puppy!” Rachel exclaimed. “What’s its name?”

  “Bundles. I named him that because he’s a bundle of fur. Do you want to pet him?”

  Rachel stroked the dog’s soft, floppy ears with one hand while Jacob tugged on her other hand and insisted, “Let’s go.”

  Rachel ignored her brother and smiled at the English girl. “I have a kitten named Cuddles, and she’s real soft, too.”

  The girl grinned at Rachel. “My name’s Sherry Anderson. What’s yours?”

  “Rachel Yoder.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rachel. Would you like to hold Bundles?”

  Rachel nodded, and Jacob elbowed her in the ribs. “I thought we were going for ice cream.”

  “I never said that. Getting some ice cream was your idea.” Rachel took Bundles from Sherry, and she giggled when the pup licked her chin.

  “I think he likes you,” Sherry said.

  “Rachel, are you coming or not?”

  Rachel knew Jacob was irritated, because a muscle in his cheek twitched when he squinted his eyes. She reached inside her purse and pulled out two dollars. “I’ll stay here and visit with Sherry, and you can go get some ice cream by yourself. How’s that sound?”

  Jacob hesitated, but then he took the money and hurried off.

  “I was about to take Bundles for a walk,” Sherry said. “Would you like to come along?”

  Rachel made sure Jacob was out of sight. Then she nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Sherry hooked a leash to her puppy’s collar and placed him on the ground. When Bundles tugged on the leash and struggled to run ahead, Rachel figured he might be as eager to go for a walk as she was.

  The girls and Bundles moved away from the crowd and headed across the parking lot.

  “Sure is a hot day,” Sherry commented. “Makes me want to go for a swim.”

  Rachel smiled. “I like to wade in the creek behind our house when the weather is hot and sticky.”

  “Another way I cool off is when I go for a ride in my brother’s convertible,” Sherry said.

  Rachel’s heart flip-flopped. “Convertible? He has a car with a top he can put down?”

  Sherry nodded.

  “I’ve never ridden in a convertible.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “No, just our neighbor’s van whenever Pap hires him to take us somewhere we can’t go in our buggy.” Rachel swatted at a fly that seemed determined to land on her nose and tried not to scratch the patch of poison ivy on her arm. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to ride in a car with the top down. Does your brother’s car go real fast?”

  Sherry nodded. “Sometimes … when we’re on the highway.”

  Rachel was about to comment, when an English woman tapped her on the shoulder. “Would you mind posing for a picture, little girl?” She lifted her camera and pointed it at Rachel, but Rachel turned her head.

  “I only want to snap a couple of shots,” the woman insisted.

  “I’m sorry, but no,” Rachel mumbled.

  “Are you sure? I’ll pay you a dollar.”

  Rachel stared at the ground as she thought. It would be nice to earn a dollar. And I wouldn’t have to do anything except pose for a picture to get it.

  She looked at the woman and started to shake her head, when her new friend spoke up. “You can take my picture.” Sherry flipped her ponytail, tipped her head, and presented a cheesy smile.

  “Humph!” The woman turned and walked away.

  “I think that lady must have a fly up her nose,” Sherry said.

  Rachel giggled. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

  “Sure, no problem. I know that the Amish don’t like to have their pictures taken.”

  Rachel wondered what Jacob would have done if he had been there. Probably would have teased me and said, “Who’d want to take your picture, little butzemann?”

  Rachel’s thoughts were interrupted when a deep voice called from across the parking lot, “Hey, Sherry. Mom just called on my cell phone, and she wants us to come home.”

  Sherry looked over at Rachel and stuck out her lower lip. “That’s my brother, Dave. I guess it’s time for me to go.”

  “Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”

  Sherry nodded. “I hope so.”

  As Rachel started across the parking lot toward their buggy, she smiled, thinking about how nice it was to have met someone new. Maybe sometime in the future, she and Sherry would see each other again. And maybe one day, Rachel might get the chance to ride in a shiny blue convertible.

  When Rachel reached their buggy, she realized that none of her family had arrived yet, so she climbed into the back, stretched out on the seat, and closed her eyes. It was time to daydream.

  Rachel imagined herself riding in a blue convertible with her new friend, Sherry. Sherry’s brother drove the car. Bundles and Cuddles sat in the backseat between Rachel and Sherry. The wind whipped the narrow ties of Rachel’s kapp as the car whizzed down the highway.

  Rachel felt her body sway, first to one side, then to the other, and her eyes snapped open. She sat up and looked out the window. She wasn’t riding in a convertible at all. The buggy was moving! She glanced up front to see who was driving but saw no one in the driver’s seat.

  Rachel realized that Sam, the horse that had taken old Tom’s place, must have broken loose from the hitching rail. Now he was galloping across the parking lot. The buggy passed a group of cars, bouncing up and down, weaving this way and that. Rachel screamed when it nearly scraped the side of a green van.

  “Whoa, there! Whoa, Sam!” she shouted, but the horse kept running.

  I need to get to the front of the buggy and grab those reins! Rachel thought.

  She tried to stand up, but the buggy jerked again, and she fell to the floor.

  Rachel crawled to the front seat on her hands and knees. She grabbed the back of the seat and started to climb over it. Suddenly, the horse darted to the left, tossing Rachel to the floor again.

  “Help!” she screamed as tears rolled down her cheeks. She knew she couldn’t do this alone. She really was in trouble now!

  “I’m coming, Rachel! Hang on!”

  With the racket of the runaway buggy, Rachel barely heard Jacob’s voice. She pulled herself up again and looked out the side window. She saw Jacob running beside the buggy. He waved one hand and held an ice-cream cone in the other.

  “Help me, Jacob!” Rachel cried.

  Jacob tossed the ice-cream cone to the ground and raced past Rachel’s window. “Whoa, there! Steady, boy!” he called to the horse.

  Rachel’s heartbeat pounded with the rhythm of the horse’s hooves. “Dear God,” she prayed as she clung to the seat, “please help my brother catch the horse!”

  Suddenly the buggy lurched to a screeching halt. Jacob stuck his head through the doorway on the driver’s side. He waited a moment, panting.

  “I grabbed the horse’s bridle and stopped him,” he explained, still trying to catch his breath. “I’ll lead him back to the hitching rail, so sit tight until I say it’s safe to get out.”

  “Okay,” Rachel said in a quavering voice.

  When the buggy finally quit moving, Jacob came around to th
e back and helped Rachel down. “Are you all right?”

  Rachel nodded. She could tell her brother was concerned, because his forehead was wrinkled and his eyebrows were drawn together. Ever since school had let out for the summer, Jacob had been teasing her. But now she knew how much her brother really cared. He’d proven that by coming to her rescue, and she was glad for his help.

  “I didn’t do anything silly, Jacob,” she cried. The words tumbled out of her mouth so fast she didn’t even know what she was saying. “I was waiting for everyone in the buggy and fell asleep. I don’t know how Sam got loose, but I woke up and he was running. I couldn’t stop him.”

  Rachel threw her arms around Jacob. “Danki. Danki for saving my life.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, patting Rachel on the back. “I knew you didn’t cause Sam to run away. I tease you about being silly, but I know you are pretty smart for a girl your age.”

  Jacob seemed embarrassed and ready to change the subject. He looked at his empty hands. “I had my root beer float and was bringing you an ice-cream cone, but I threw it away so I could stop the horse.”

  She grinned at him, feeling happier than she had all summer. “That’s okay. Knowing that you care about me is better than any old ice-cream cone.”

  “Of course I care. I’m your brother. I’ll always love you and try to help whenever you’re in trouble.”

  “I love you, too.” Rachel hugged Jacob again.

  “Maybe after supper, Pap will buy us all ice cream,” he said with a lopsided grin.

  She nodded and smiled. In spite of all her troubles, this summer had turned out to be pretty good, and the best thing was learning that Jacob didn’t think she was a bensel. Not really. He did love her after all.

  Back to School

  Dedication

  To my daughter, Lorine, a wunderbaar [wonderful] schoolteacher. And to my granddaughters, Jinell, Madolynne, and Rebekah, who enjoy doing many fun things at their country school.

  Glossary

  ab im kopp—go crazy

  ach—oh

  aldi—girlfriend

  baremlich—terrible

  bauchweh—stomachache

  bensel—silly child

  bletsching—spanking

  boppli—baby

  bopplin—babies

  bruder—brother

  daed—dad

  daer—door

  danki—thank you

  dummkopp—dunce

  dummle—hurry

  ekelhaft—disgusting

  fingerneggel—fingernails

  galgedieb—scoundrel

  grank—sick

  kapp—cap

  kinner—children

  jah—yes

  mamm—mom

  maus—mouse

  meis—mice

  Mondaag—Monday

  naerfich—nervous

  nixnutzich—naughty

  pescht—pest

  rutschich—squirming

  schnell—quickly

  schtinkich—smelly

  sei—hogs

  uffgschafft—excited

  wunderbaar—wonderful

  Gern gschehne. You are welcome.

  Guder mariye. Good morning.

  Raus mit! Out with it!

  Sis mir iwwel. I am sick at my stomach.

  Was in der welt? What in all the world?

  Wie geht’s? How are you?

  Chapter 1

  First-Day Troubles

  Where’s my sneaker? I can’t find my other sneaker!” Rachel Yoder glanced down at her feet. On her left foot she wore a black and white sneaker, but her right foot was bare. I can’t go to school with only one shoe!

  Rachel dropped to her knees and peered under the sofa. No sneaker there; just a red checker piece from Pap’s favorite game.

  She crawled across the room to Mom’s rocking chair and peeked underneath. Nope. Just the ball of blue yarn Rachel sometimes used when she played with her kitten, Cuddles. Where could that sneaker be?

  Rachel had found one sneaker by her bed when she’d gotten up but couldn’t find the other sneaker in her room. She grunted. “If that sneaker’s not upstairs in my bedroom and it isn’t down here in the living room, then where is it?”

  She snapped her fingers. Maybe someone had hidden her sneaker so Rachel would be late for the first day of school. That wasn’t something Henry, her sixteen-year-old brother, would do. But Jacob, who was almost twelve and liked to tease, might have taken it.

  Rachel scrambled to her feet, stubbing her bare toe on the rocking chair. “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!”

  Hopping on one foot, she limped to the stairs and hollered, “Jacob Yoder! Did you take my sneaker?”

  Jacob peeked around the banister at the top of the stairs and wrinkled his nose. “What would I want with your schtinkich [smelly] old sneaker?”

  “It is not smelly!” Rachel frowned. “And I can’t go to school today with only one shoe on my foot.”

  Rachel’s mother poked her head through the kitchen doorway. “Then you’d better plan to go barefooted, because if you and Jacob don’t leave soon, you’ll be late for the first day of school.”

  “Not if I ride my skateboard. Then I can get there in half the time.”

  As Mom stepped into the hallway, her silver-framed glasses slipped to the end of her nose. “No skateboard, Rachel! It’s much too dangerous for you to ride that thing to school.”

  “I’ll stay on the shoulder of the road, I promise.”

  Mom shook her head. “Absolutely not. You and Jacob will walk to school, same as you’ve always done—with or without your shoes.”

  Rachel stared down at her feet, her right foot bare with the aching toe, and the left foot clad in a black and white sneaker.

  This isn’t good. Not good at all. She wished she had asked for a bicycle for her birthday instead of a skateboard. But she was sure her parents would have said no. Rachel had seen English children ride bikes to school, but none of the Amish kinner [children] she knew owned bikes. Even if she did own a bike, Mom probably wouldn’t let her ride it to school.

  Mom, and everyone else in the family, treats me like a boppli [baby], Rachel thought.

  “If you can’t find your other sneaker, why don’t you wear your church shoes?” Jacob suggested as he tromped down the stairs in new black boots Pap had bought him.

  Rachel looked at her mother.

  “Jah [yes], sure,” Mom said with a nod. “Hurry to your room and put them on. Be sure to fix your kapp [cap], too, because it’s on crooked,” she called as Rachel dashed up the stairs.

  “Always trouble somewhere,” Rachel mumbled, straightening the small white covering perched on her head.

  Rachel hurried to her bedroom closet. She usually kept her black leather church shoes on a wooden bench underneath her dresses. She bent to get them and discovered they both were missing.

  Rachel blinked and scratched the side of her head. “Was in der welt? [What in the world?] Now where have my church shoes gone?”

  Rachel looked around the closet but only found a box of small rocks she planned to paint so they looked like ladybugs, a stack of games and puzzles, and the wooden skateboard Jacob and Henry had made for her birthday. She gazed at the skateboard longingly, wishing she could ride it to school.

  With a frustrated sigh, Rachel ran to her bed. She dropped to her knees and peered underneath, but no church shoes were under her bed. She just saw the same dust balls she’d seen when she’d looked for her sneaker, and an old faceless doll with one missing arm.

  Rachel clambered to her feet and raced to her dresser. She pulled open each drawer and rummaged through the sweaters, socks, and underwear. No sneaker or church shoes there, either.

  “I don’t need this kind of trouble,” Rachel wailed as she banged the bottom drawer shut.

  “Rachel! Jacob’s ready to leave for school, so you’d better hurry,” Mom called from downstairs.

  “I can’t find my church shoes!” Rachel shouted in
return.

  “Then you’d best go barefooted.”

  Rachel sucked in her lower lip. She couldn’t walk to school in her bare feet. Her toe still hurt from where she’d stubbed it. Besides, too many pebbles lined the shoulder of the road between their house and the one-room schoolhouse. She thumped the side of her head. “Think, Rachel. Where did you put your shoes last Sunday after church?”

  She took a seat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. Let’s see now … She remembered coming to her room to change out of her Sunday dress. Then she’d taken off her shoes and—

  Rachel jumped up and raced out of the room. “I know where my church shoes are!” she hollered, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “You’d better slow down or you’ll slip and fall,” Mom scolded, shaking her finger at Rachel.

  “You said I’d be late for school if I didn’t hurry. I know where my church shoes are, so I need to get them right now!” Rachel hurried past Mom and nearly bumped into Jacob, who had just stepped out of the kitchen with his lunchbox in his hand.

  “I’m heading out now, so if you’re not ready to go, then you can walk by yourself,” he said with a frown.

  She placed her hands on her hips and scowled. “Go ahead. I don’t need you to walk with me anyway!”

  “I would prefer that you walk together,” Mom said as she joined them near the back door. “There’s safety in numbers, you know.”

  Jacob tapped the toe of his boot against the hardwood floor. “Then hurry up, Rachel. Time’s a-wasting.”

  “I need my church shoes. I remember putting them in the utility room last Sunday so I wouldn’t forget to polish them before our next preaching service.” Rachel darted into the utility room and halted in front of Pap’s wooden shoe-shining box. There sat one of her good shoes—but only one. The other one was not there.

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. “Not another missing shoe.”

  Rachel grabbed the shoe and ran back to her brother. “Jacob, did you take one of my church shoes?”

  “Right.” He snickered. “Like I would want one of your schtinkich shoes.”

  “My shoes are not smelly, and if you’re playing a trick on me—”

  Mom held up her hand to quiet Rachel and then faced Jacob. “Do you have your sister’s church shoe?”

 

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