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Look Out, Lancaster County

Page 17

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “What’s inside the yogurt cup?” Orlie asked.

  “That’s Speedy … my woolly worm.”

  “Speedy, huh?” Orlie slowly shook his head. “I’ll bet I can make any worm in that cottage cheese carton beat yours anytime.”

  “Bet you can’t.”

  “Bet I can.”

  “Bet you can’t.”

  “Bet I—”

  Her cousin Mary stepped between them. “You’re wasting time arguing. Just race the worms and see who wins.”

  “Good idea.” Rachel marched across the schoolyard to the fence. With a few quick snips of the scissors she’d put in her pocket, she cut several pieces of string.

  “Who wants to pick a worm?” she asked, opening the cottage cheese container.

  Aaron jumped up and down. “I do! I do!”

  “Me, too,” Mary echoed.

  “I’ll take one,” Phoebe said with a nod.

  Soon, several other children had chosen a woolly worm to race.

  “How about you, Orlie?” Rachel asked. “Aren’t you going to pick one?”

  He nodded. “Jah, sure. I was just waiting for everyone else to choose so you didn’t think I’d gotten the best one, that’s all.”

  Rachel opened the lid on the yogurt container. “As far as I’m concerned, Speedy’s the best. He’s fast! You’ll see.”

  “Jah, well, I’ll bet my worm can beat him.” Orlie reached into the container and plucked out a fat woolly worm. “This critter’s name is Tiger. He’s gonna beat every woolly worm here.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Rachel held up her hand. “Now, the rules are this: You can clap, sing, whistle, or blow on your worm to get him to move. But you can’t touch him with your hands.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “Okay, now, let’s tie those strings to the fence and start the race!”

  A few minutes later, ten children had lined up along the fence with woolly worms. Many of the scholars who had shown no interest in the contest now watched on the sidelines.

  “Want me to signal when to start?” Jacob asked, stepping up to Rachel.

  She shrugged. “Someone has to, so it may as well be you.”

  “All right then.” Jacob cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed deeply. “One … two … three … go!”

  Rachel put Speedy at the bottom of her string, tipped her head, and blew on his furry little body. “Go, Speedy. Get up that string, and be quick about it.”

  Mary clapped her hands and hollered, “Dummle [Hurry], slowpoke. Hurry now, please.”

  Aaron King sang a silly song to try and get his worm to move. “Woolly, woolly, ding-dong-ding; woolly, woolly, you make me sing. Woolly, woolly, now do your thing; woolly, woolly, I’ll soon be king.”

  Rachel’s worm was halfway up the string when she heard several children shouting and clapping. “Go, Tiger, go! Schnell—quickly!”

  She stopped blowing on Speedy to glance at Orlie and almost gagged. He had his mouth open and was nudging the woolly worm with his tongue.

  Rachel wrinkled her nose. “That’s so disgusting. Besides, you’re cheating, Orlie.”

  “Am not,” he said in a muffled voice. His tongue was still out. He sounded like a baby trying to talk. “You said no touching with your hands, not your tongue.”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

  Rachel wasn’t sure if Orlie’s worm was crawling so fast because Orlie was coaxing it with his tongue, or if the woolly worm moved along quickly in order to get away from Orlie’s garlic breath. Rachel leaned over and blew so hard on Speedy that he nearly fell off the string. “I’m going to win this race, and I’ll do it fair and square!” she shouted.

  “That’s what you think.” Orlie wore a satisfied smile as he prompted his worm with the end of his pointy tongue.

  The children clapped and hollered—some cheered for Rachel, and others shouted for Orlie’s woolly to win. Rachel was so busy blowing on Speedy and watching Tiger that she didn’t even notice how the other children’s worms were doing. Not until Aaron sang out, “My woolly won! My woolly won! We made it to the top. Jah, we’re done!”

  Rachel looked and her mouth dropped open. Sure enough, his woolly had reached the top of the string, two inches ahead of Rachel’s, and at least one inch in front of Orlie’s. “But—but I was sure my woolly would win,” she mumbled.

  “Oh, how sad.” Orlie pretended to wipe tears from his eyes. Rachel gritted her teeth.

  Everyone cheered, and Aaron bowed. “What’s my prize for winning this woolly worm race?”

  Everyone looked at Rachel. Her forehead wrinkled. She’d been so busy planning the race and thinking she would win that she hadn’t even thought of a prize. “Well, I—”

  “How about some chocolate chip cookies?” Elizabeth asked. She stepped up to Aaron and touched the top of his head.

  His dark eyes widened, and he licked his lips. “You got some, Teacher?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Sure do. I brought chocolate chip cookies as a treat for the class today. Since your woolly won, I think I’ll give you a few extra.” She smiled at Rachel. “The woolly worm race was a good idea. How about if we do it again some other time?”

  Rachel nodded. The race hadn’t gone quite the way she’d wanted, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. Even though Speedy hadn’t reached the top of the string first, at least Orlie and his pointy red tongue hadn’t won.

  Chapter 10

  Substitute Teacher

  When Rachel entered the schoolhouse one Friday morning, she was surprised to see Aaron King’s aunt, Lovina, sitting at the teacher’s desk. Lovina was a tall, thin woman who had never married. She still lived at home with her elderly parents. She had dark brown hair and almond-shaped eyes that were also brown. Rachel knew Lovina could be very stern. She wondered what Lovina was doing at the teacher’s desk, and where Elizabeth was.

  “Good morning, boys and girls,” Lovina said after everyone sat down. “I’ll be your teacher for the next several weeks.”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open. No, this couldn’t be. She didn’t want a substitute teacher.

  When Lovina opened her Bible for the morning reading, Rachel raised her hand.

  “What is it, Rachel?”

  “Where’s Elizabeth?”

  “Her grandmother in Tennessee is ill. So Elizabeth has gone to help out.” Lovina leaned slightly forward, with her elbows resting on the desk. “I’ll be teaching your class until she gets back, sometime after Christmas.”

  Christmas? Rachel couldn’t believe Elizabeth would be gone that long. What about the Christmas program? Would that be canceled if Elizabeth was still in Tennessee? Rachel felt badly that her teacher’s grandmother was sick, but she wondered why Sharon Smucker, Elizabeth’s helper, couldn’t teach the class in her absence. However, she didn’t ask the question. No point in saying something that might upset Lovina.

  Rachel looked at Mary to get her reaction, but Mary gazed straight ahead.

  Rachel sighed. She hoped Elizabeth’s grandma would get well very soon, so Elizabeth could return to Pennsylvania before Christmas.

  Rachel felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around. “Little bensel, didn’t you hear what the teacher said?” Orlie asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “I—I guess not. What’d she say?”

  “We’re supposed to stand and recite the Lord’s Prayer.”

  “Oh.” Rachel pushed her chair back and stood. She had not only missed hearing the Bible reading, but she hadn’t even heard Lovina announce that it was time to recite their morning prayer.

  Rachel had a hard time concentrating on the prayer. It was even harder to keep her mind on the songs after that. It didn’t help that Orlie stood beside her, blowing garlic breath in her face. Finally the scholars returned to their seats.

  “This morning, before we begin our lessons,” the teacher said with a nod, “I want to give everyone their parts for the Christmas play next month.”
/>   Rachel thought about the program the scholars always put on for their families shortly before Christmas. Last year, she had recited a poem. The year before that she’d sung a song with some other children. She wondered what her part in the program would be this year. She hoped she would be given something easy to say.

  “Since Elizabeth won’t be here, I’ll be in charge of the program this year,” the substitute teacher said. “We’ll have some singing, recitations, and a few of you will act out the Nativity scene. The play I have written includes parts for Mary, Joseph, five shepherds, and two angels.”

  “What about the baby Jesus?” Lovina’s nephew Aaron hollered without raising his hand. “Won’t there be a part for Him, too?”

  “We won’t use a real baby,” Lovina said, shaking her head. “And from now on, please raise your hand if you have a question.”

  Aaron’s face turned cherry red and he slunk low in his seat. Rachel was glad she wasn’t the one getting in trouble with the teacher or being embarrassed in front of the class. She’d had enough of that in the last few months.

  Phoebe Byler lifted her hand.

  Lovina nodded at Phoebe. “Yes?”

  “How about using a faceless doll to play Baby Jesus’ part?” Phoebe suggested. “I’ve got an old doll we can use.”

  “I have one, too!” Becky Esh shouted. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oops … sorry for not raising my hand, Teacher.”

  Lovina nodded, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “We can talk about that later. Right now I want to assign your parts. Then, after lunch, we’ll begin practicing for the program.”

  She walked to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote the words “CHRISTMAS PROGRAM” in capital letters. “If you don’t see your name on the blackboard, that means you’ll either have a poem to recite or you’ll be part of the group that will sing a few songs.”

  Rachel watched with interest as Lovina wrote “Angels” on the board. Under that, she listed: “Phoebe Byler, Mary Yoder.” Next, Lovina wrote “Shepherds,” followed by five names: “Jacob Yoder, Aaron King, Harvey Esh, Abner Clemmons, and Noah Stoltzfus.”

  Jacob will be happy to get the part of a shepherd, Rachel thought. She looked across the room and noticed that he was smiling. He likes petting Grandpa Yoder’s sheep. Maybe he’ll be allowed to bring a sheep to the program so the play will seem more realistic.

  Rachel felt a nudge in her back, and she turned sharply. “Quit poking me, Orlie,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Looks like we’ll be workin’ together,” he said, pointing to the blackboard.

  Rachel looked at the chalkboard and nearly choked. The word “Mary” was written there, with Rachel’s name underneath. But even worse was what was written beside that. It said: “Joseph,” by the name “Orlie Troyer.”

  Rachel slunk farther down in her seat than Aaron had. Playing the part of Mary with Orlie as Joseph was the worst thing she could imagine. She had to figure a way out of it quickly. She raised her hand and waved it.

  Lovina nodded at Rachel. “Yes?”

  “Can’t I do a recitation like I did last year? I’ll even write my own poem if that would help.”

  Lovina shook her head. “I chose the parts based on who I thought would fit the roles best, and I picked you to play Mary.”

  “Oh, but my cousin’s name is Mary, so shouldn’t she be the one to play the part of baby Jesus’ mother?”

  Lovina took a seat behind her desk. “I’ve made my decision on who gets what parts. Now it’s time to begin lessons, so please open your books.”

  Rachel went through the rest of the morning feeling as if she had a bale of hay sitting on top of her head. She couldn’t play the part of Mary in the Christmas program! Not with Orlie as Joseph! Orlie didn’t like her; that was clear as glass. And she didn’t care for him, either.

  Rachel had seen other Christmas programs where the Nativity scene was acted out, so she knew what would be required of her in the role of Mary. She would have to sit on a stool behind a small wooden manager, and Joseph would be expected to stand right beside her. Just the thought of practicing every day with Orlie and sitting beside him during the program twisted Rachel’s stomach in knots.

  Maybe I could let old Tom step on my toe again, she thought as she returned to the schoolhouse after lunch recess. Then my foot would be too sore to come to school. She shook her head. That wouldn’t work. When Mom heard that Rachel had been given the part of Mary, she would probably drive her to school in one of Pap’s buggies every day, just so she could be there to practice, sore toe or not.

  Rachel tapped her chin with the end of her pencil as she pondered the predicament she was in. If she prayed real hard, maybe Elizabeth’s grandma would get well soon. Then Elizabeth could return to teaching school before the program. Surely Elizabeth would let Rachel out of being Mary. Or maybe Rachel could figure out some way to get exposed to the chicken pox or measles the week of the program. Then she’d be home sick in bed that day, not sitting beside Orlie in front of everyone she knew, feeling nervous about the possibility of forgetting her lines. What if Orlie decided to play a trick on her during the program? Why, the kids in class would make fun of her for weeks.

  “All right now, scholars,” Lovina announced. “I’m going to separate you into groups in order to practice for the Christmas program.” She pointed to Mary and then to Phoebe. “You two angels can practice over there.” She motioned to the left side of the room, and when Phoebe and Mary stood, Lovina handed them each a slip of paper. “Here are your lines, girls. They aren’t hard, so you should be able to memorize them easily.”

  Next, she pointed to Jacob and the other shepherds. She instructed them to take their parts and practice at the back of the room.

  Finally, Lovina nodded at Rachel and Orlie. “You two can practice your lines over there.” She motioned to the corner of the room where the woodstove sat.

  Rachel forced herself to walk to the teacher’s desk. She took the slips of paper with hers and Orlie’s parts and plodded across the room. She stared at the stove, wishing she could open the door and toss the paper into the burning flames. She figured that probably wouldn’t do any good. The determined substitute would probably print another set of lines for Rachel and Orlie.

  Orlie sauntered over to stand by Rachel, wearing a smug expression. “It’ll be fun to have the best parts in the Christmas program, won’t it?”

  Fun for you maybe, because you can make my life miserable. Rachel plastered a smile on her face. For her, playing the part of Mary would be sheer torture.

  As Rachel walked home from school that afternoon, she could only think about how awful it was to have a substitute teacher and how miserable she felt knowing Orlie would play Joseph. Throughout their practice time, Orlie had made wisecracks and messed up his lines just to confuse Rachel. While walking home, she usually enjoyed listening to the birds in the trees, looking for unusual shrubs, and watching the cars zip past. Not today.

  “Why do you look so disagreeable?” Jacob asked, punching Rachel’s arm. “You look like you’ve been sucking on sour grapes.”

  “I’m not happy about playing Mary in the Christmas program.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you really have to ask?” Rachel groaned. “Orlie’s playing Joseph, and you know Orlie and I don’t get along.”

  “Maybe that’s because you don’t try hard enough to like him.”

  “I’ve tried every way I know to be nice to that ornery fellow. He always does something to get me riled,” she answered.

  “I’m sure that’s why he does it.” Jacob jabbed Rachel again. “I still think Orlie has a crush on you.”

  “He does not.”

  “Does so.”

  Rachel started to run. “Does not!” she called over her shoulder.

  “Hey, wait! You know you’re not supposed to walk home alone.”

  “I’m not walking; I’m running.”

  By the ti
me Rachel reached home, she was panting, but she felt a little better about things. Maybe it was because she’d gotten her adrenaline pumping. Teacher Elizabeth had said once that exercise was healthy. She said it could help relieve stress because exercise released pain-killing hormones called “endorphins.”

  Maybe on the day of the Christmas program, I’ll run to the schoolhouse, Rachel thought. Then I’ll have plenty of endorphins and won’t feel so nervous.

  Chapter 11

  Unexpected News

  The sweet smell of sausage cooking on the stove drew Rachel into the kitchen one Monday morning in late November. “I’m so hungry I could eat a whole hog,” she told her mother, who was cracking eggs into a bowl. “Will breakfast be ready soon?”

  Mom nodded.

  Rachel stepped close to the stove and sniffed the sausage links in the iron skillet. “Umm … those sure smell wunderbaar. Don’t you just love the taste of sausage, Mom?”

  Mom let out a feeble cry, covered her mouth with her hand, and darted out the back door.

  Rachel stared after her mother and shook her head. “Now that’s sure strange. I wonder what Mom’s problem could be?”

  A few minutes later, Jacob entered the kitchen, carrying an armload of kindling. “Mom’s on the porch. She said to ask you to watch the sausage cooking on the stove,” he said. He dropped wood into the box beside the woodstove they used for heat during the winter months.

  “Why do I have to do it? Isn’t Mom coming back to finish cooking breakfast?”

  “I think she’s got a bauchweh [stomachache].”

  “Mom’s got a stomachache?” Rachel asked, feeling sudden concern.

  Jacob shrugged. “I think so. She was holding her stomach, and her face looked almost as white as that snow coming down.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “It’s snowing?”

  “Sure is.”

  Rachel rushed to the window and peeked through the frosty glass. Sure enough, big flakes dropped from the sky like fluffy cotton. “Oh, boy, maybe it will snow so hard we won’t have to go to school today,” she exclaimed. Then she remembered what Jacob had said about Mom having a stomachache, and her concerns returned. “I hope Mom’s not getting the achy bones flu. She hardly ever gets sick.”

 

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