by Sarah Price
"Part of me is, part of me isn't," she replied softly, again feeling uncomfortable discussing such personal thoughts with Emanuel. Yet, when she looked up and glanced into his face, she saw that genuine sincerity that reminded her of his father and made her realize that his curiosity wasn't meant as prying.
"Some kids get married too young out here," Emanuel told her. "Nineteen, twenty. That's too young. Don't know if I'll ever marry."
Shana laughed at his announcement, raising her hand to push a stray hair away from her face and over her shoulder. She noticed him watching her movement, staring at her loose, brown hair. He shifted his weight and diverted his eyes as though suddenly uncomfortable with speaking to her. Shana guessed his discomfort came because he was used to speaking with the plain Amish women with their tightly plaited hair and balding parts down the middle of their scalp. And here he stands, she thought, speaking to a young Englischer woman with long, wavy hair and wearing makeup.
"You say that now, Emanuel. We all say that at some time or another. You'll marry. Wait and see. I'm too young right now, but I plan on marrying someday after I have time to focus on my career."
It was Emanuel's turn to look startled. "Too young? Why, I'd guess you to be twenty-six or so!"
Lucky Monday nuzzled at Shana's hair. Another laugh escaped her lips and she turned around to stroke the horse's neck. "Emanuel, you'd have me an old maid before my time," she teased. Then, sobering, she said, "I turned twenty-two last April."
A frown crossed his face for a split second but, as quickly as it was there, it vanished and he stared at her, his eyes large and approving as though seeing her in a new light. "What a big girl to venture out here on your own!"
She'd been called many things in her lifetime but never a "big girl." The approval in his eyes and the awe written across his face made her suddenly feel very young and alive. The color rose to her cheeks and she had to look away, ashamed at her pleasant embarrassment. "Hadn't thought of it that way before," she heard herself whisper in response, almost too overtaken by the feeling inside her chest to speak at all.
An awkward silence fell between them again. Shana focused her attention on Lucky Monday but her mind raced. How odd we must look to an outsider, she thought. The young Amish man in his dowdy work clothes and the young Englische woman in her business attire. Whatever could they have in common, an observer might have commented, to share such innocent intimacy? But Shana knew otherwise, that even though Emanuel's offering of friendship was rather racy and bold, the one thing they had in common was curiosity about the other's world.
But even though Shana felt certain that Emanuel was considered a rebellious Amish man by his church, his curiosity about her world was so innocent that she knew his loyalty remained faithfully planted within his religion. She found herself feeling sorry for him, mostly for being ignorant of all the things he didn't even know he had missed. How controlled their lives are, she thought as she scratched Lucky Monday's nose again. From the straw hat tilted back on his head to the people he associated with, everything he said and did had to follow the Ordnung, rules of the Amish church. Yet, she couldn't help realizing as she watched Emanuel for a moment, he seemed happy enough.
"Ach vell, I must finish my chores," he finally announced softly, breaking the peaceful silence. He lowered his eyes away from hers and, for a second, Shana wondered if he had read her thoughts. Emanuel shuffled his feet as he reached out to tug at Lucky Monday's ear again. For a moment, he hesitated as though considering something. "Perhaps tomorrow when I ride into town you would like to come along." He glanced at her. "Have you ever ridden in a buggy before?"
Slowly, they walked out of the barn. "Can't say that I have," she smiled, almost regretting his departure. While the thought of having the next few days off from work pleased her, she suddenly realized that, unless she accepted his invitation, she would be spending her long weekend completely alone.
He smiled as he started to walk toward the cow barn. "Perhaps in the early evening, then?"
The setting sun cast orange shadows across the driveway as they parted. Slowly, Shana walked back toward her house, watching Emanuel disappear into the barn, straightening the straw hat on his head. At the doorway, he glanced over his shoulder and spared her a final smile. She responded with a good-bye wave and continued walking up the driveway.
Several kittens scurried under the tool shed at the edge of the yard in front of the farmhouse. As Shana passed it, she noticed Katie kneeling in her garden. In the past, Katie had always greeted Shana with a warm smile. Now, when Katie looked up, a dark frown crossed her face and she merely nodded at the Englische woman. The apparent interest her son had taken with the pretty Englische woman obviously displeased her. Certainly Katie had overheard the end of their conversation. While Shana knew that it was against the Ordnung for an Amish man to be so friendly with an Englische woman, she wasn't about to worry about it if Emanuel wasn't.
Chapter Three
When the gray-topped buggy stopped in front of her house, Shana pushed back the curtain and, steadying herself against the upstairs windowsill, stared at it for a long moment. She watched as Emanuel slid back the buggy door and quickly emerged. He straightened his straw hat and brushed some dirt off of his black pants. Before he walked toward her front door, he paused long enough to give Lucky Monday a reassuring rub on the nose. Then, he quickly disappeared under the window and she heard him walking across her small porch.
All morning, Shana had lounged around her house, cleaning and organizing the few things she had brought with her. She had enjoyed the tranquility of doing nothing for a while. But, as she grew restless, later in the afternoon, she had ventured out of her house and began to explore the farm.
First, she wandered over to Katie's large garden, admiring the neat and organized rows of bushy lettuce, overgrown zucchini, and luscious red tomato plants. Most of the corn stalks were already stripped, although Shana was certain that, with such a large field of corn, the family never wanted for any. Then, she had wandered up the hill, breathing in the sweet smell of the recently cut hay as she watched the activity in the fields. Far in the distance, several silhouettes, hurrying behind a mule driven wagon, lifted large bales of hay up to another figure riding on the back of the wagon. As she watched, she could occasionally hear the wagon driver shouting out a command, but to whom, the mules or the men, she could not tell.
On her way back from her walk, Shana noticed Sylvia lugging a large bucket of milk to the calves. When the young girl stumbled, milk spilling over the edge of the dented, metal bucket and splashing her plain brown dress, Shana quickened her pace to come to Sylvia's aid.
Together, quietly, they carried the bucket to the far side of the mule shed where, in little wooden lean-to's, the weaning calves hungrily awaited the milk. Shana held the bucket to one calf's face while Sylvia's took care of the second calf. Shana laughed as the calf hungrily drank the milk, wearing most of it on its face.
"Messy eater," Shana said, mostly to herself, but, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sylvia smile.
And, when the calf stepped on Shana's foot and refused to move, the two girls shared a laugh together. It was Sylvia who finally pushed the calf off of Shana’s foot before they finished feeding the rest of the calves. During all of this, Shana hadn't thought much about the buggy ride Emanuel had promised to take her on later that evening.
But now, as she heard Emanuel knocking twice at her door, her stomach tightened into a knot. She let the curtain fall back into place and took a deep breath before leaving the bedroom to hurry down the narrow staircase. She shut the doorway to the staircase and glanced around the house.
She had meticulously cleaned that afternoon, making certain everything was put away and organized. She didn't know why. It isn't as though I must impress him, she had reprimanded herself. Now, as she saw him standing patiently behind the open screen door, she was glad she had made the extra effort.
Emanuel smiled when he saw her. He wore
the same outfit she had seen him wearing the previous day except now his shirt appeared freshly washed. "Enjoying your day off?"
"So far," she replied, swinging open the door, uncertain whether she should invite him inside. She waited, hoping to take some direction from him, but he continued standing outside. She propped the door open with her foot and said, "It's a beautiful day again, isn't it?"
"Ja," he replied cheerfully. Silence.
The horse neighed softly, shaking its head. The rest of the farm was quiet. He stood before her, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. Shana fought the urge to smile, pleasantly surprised at the formality of his fetching her to ride into town. Emanuel shuffled his feet as he glanced over his shoulder at the horse and buggy then looked back at her.
Finally, he broke the silence and, his eyes meeting hers, he asked, "Would you care to go into town? I have to stop at Zimmerman's for some things."
"I'd love to." She heard herself say before she retreated inside for her purse, taking an extra second to glance in the mirror at her face, flushed with excitement. Running her fingers through her hair, she gave herself an encouraging smile. "Your first buggy ride," she whispered to herself. The excitement she saw in her face suddenly made her feel ridiculous and like a young schoolgirl. It would be no different than if you gave him a ride in your car, she scolded herself as she turned off the light and hurried outside.
As she started to open the door again, she noticed Emanuel staring at the closed book situated on the corner of the kitchen counter. Her cheeks reddened and she found herself explaining, "I thought I might as well get to know the people I'm living with." Somehow, the words sounded dry and flat, only an echo of the truth. She wished she had thought to take the book upstairs to hide her curiosity about his way of life from his wandering eyes.
A frown clouded his face. He didn't reply as he walked toward the buggy and waited for Shana to lock the door to her house. Then, he helped her step inside before climbing next to her and shutting the door to the buggy. He didn't speak as he slapped the reins on the horse's back. The buggy lurched forward and Shana grabbed awkwardly for the side, laughing uneasily as she tried to decide whether she liked the loud rumbling of the metal wheels against the macadam. But Emanuel didn't laugh with her. Instead, his face remained solemn for the ride into town.
Trying to lighten his somber mood with carefree chatter, Shana commented on the beautiful fields of ripe corn and the different herds of Holstein cows grazing in the brilliant green pastures along the road. Still, Emanuel refused to say anything as he drove the horse along the narrow roads. Taking his silence in stride, Shana finally sat back and tried to enjoy the ride.
The store was crowded with people, mostly tourists, the women with oversized battered purses and the men with cheap straw derbies shading their heads from the sun. Several dared to take pictures of Emanuel as he pulled up to the hitching post. Shana glanced at him, noticing the crease in his brow deepen. She wondered why he didn't say anything to the people. But, not questioning his silence, she quietly climbed out of the buggy without his assistance and followed him past the staring tourists into the general store.
For a short while, she browsed through the aisles, hardly noticing anything but her own turmoil of thoughts. The day before, he had seemed so young and innocent, his curiosity about the non-Amish world amusing her. Now, the way he quietly shuffled passed the gaping tourists, his mind oblivious to their curiosity, caused her heart to flutter. He seemed much older, much more in control, and much stronger than he had appeared the day before. Occasionally, Shana found her eyes seeking Emanuel, watching as he nodded to an elderly Amish couple, addressing them by name, or stopping to say hello to the young store clerk as she restocked the shelves. Then, afraid Emanuel might catch her, Shana would avert her gaze and wander further down the aisle away from him.
"Shana," Emanuel softly called out when he stood at the cash register.
The way he looked at her with his large blue eyes sent a wonderful chill down her spine. There was a softness in his expression and a hint of pride in her acknowledgement of his presence. She nodded her head and hurried to his side to wait for him to pay the clerk. She was in his world now, she realized, and needed to fall under his gentle protection.
After Emanuel had paid, she followed him outside. He held the door open with one arm, his other clutching the large grocery bag. He started to smile at her as Shana walked past him when a man abruptly shoved her aside. She stumbled into the doorframe, steadying herself against the side of a Coca-Cola machine. She spun around in time to see the tourist waving his camera as though to take Emanuel's photograph.
Aware of Emanuel's discomfort and feeling a sudden surge of anger at the tourist for having spoiled the moment, Shana quickly stepped between the two men and, pointing her finger in the tourist's face, snapped, "Shame on you!"
Startled, the man held his camera motionless. Seizing the opportunity for an escape, Emanuel grabbed her arm and quickly lead her back toward the hitching post. More than a few people had witnessed the scene and stood watching the Amish man with the Englische woman, surprised to see them both disappear inside the Amish buggy.
He had barely slid the door shut before he turned to face her. Immediately, his silence lifted. His soft, gentle eyes searched hers as though seeking some explanation for her outburst. "There are some things we get used to in our life. Many burdens we must carry while seeking our salvation, Shana," he said. "Tourists are one of them. But how can you chastise that man when you are no different?"
"I don't understand," she whispered, horrified at the solemnity of his words.
Emanuel shook his head. "You are living with my family, ja? If you want to learn about the Amish, you have only to ask. Buying those books only feeds the fire, Shana. And most of the books don't tell the truth, anyway. What do those books say about how we feel? How we think as individuals? If the tourists knew anything about those things, they wouldn't come here in the first place."
This time, it was Shana who sat in silence, her eyes downcast and her heart heavy. She realized that he was right. She was no better than the thousands of tourists who plowed through Lancaster County, each trying to learn as much as they could about the Amish from the wrong sources. They always left satisfied but just as ignorant as when they came. It was as if they thought they could bottle up the tranquility felt by the Amish and take it home. If only they could, she thought wistfully, her own sympathy falling with those tourists that sincerely wanted to learn but didn't know how because the tranquility of the Amish could not be learned in one day.
"Teach me," she whispered.
"Excuse me?"
Shana looked at Emanuel's surprised face. "Teach me about the Amish way of life."
The tension gone, Emanuel smiled at the seriousness of her request. "It isn't something you learn, Shana. It is something you believe. We are a people of faith."
"I have two months."
"Two months, ja?" Then, mockingly, he added, "Ach vell, where shall I begin?" But he lessened the blow of his teasing words with a smile.
For the next two hours, they drove back toward the farm along different, out-of-the-way roads. Emanuel, recognizing her desire to learn, spent his time showing her the tangible aspects of his life. He slowed down by the one-room schoolhouse he had attended until he was fourteen. She noticed the large outhouse behind the building and the rusty water pump in the play-yard. But it was summertime now and the dusty yard was overgrown with thin patches of grass.
"Amish children go to school up to the eighth grade," he explained. "Then, we have a year of vocational school. That takes place three hours a week and the rest of the time, we have to keep a journal of what we've learned on the farm. Sylvia, my sister, will finish school this spring and attend vocational school next fall."
"Why only eighth grade?"
Emanuel shrugged, slowing down as he gazed at the schoolhouse with its dark windows and closed front door. The children would not return to the schoo
lyard for another couple of months. "We learn what we must know to survive. English, reading, writing, a little geography, and mathematics. But our families need us on the farms. So, the government agreed that after eighth grade, Amish children are exempt from further education."
"Don't you ever feel cheated? I mean…well, there's so much out there. So much to see and do and learn."
If Shana had thought her question might have offended him, she was pleasantly surprised when he merely raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile lighting up his eyes. "Don't you ever feel cheated? We take care of each other here, help our family and friends. We have time to watch God bless the earth every season, with new plants and new cows. We have time to ride the horses, play with the kittens, enjoy our families. No one has to move far away to make a living. No one is ever alone." he paused, as if searching for the right words. "We live our lives, loved by our families and our community, Shana. We know exactly what we are going to do tomorrow because it's the same thing that we did today. But each night we pray that we do it better the next day. There is no pressure to perform, to succeed, because we already have. If your family and community accepts you, who else must you impress?" He waited for her response and when none came, he smiled. "Just yourself and God, ja?"