Phoebe's Gift

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “It’s okay,” he comforted her.

  She shook her head. “I’m so ashamed of myself. I lost all my courage and all my wunderbah plans for the evening. I couldn’t finish the story or tell them to quit or bring out the Monopoly game after that. They tore about the upstairs until all kinds of hours this morning, and I still didn’t dare say a word—as if they would have listened. I can usually sleep through anything. What is happening, David? Is this all some horrible mistake? How am I to deal with what these boys have seen?”

  “The Lord will help us.” He squeezed her limp hand.

  She didn’t even try to smile. “I can say that, too, but how is that possible? I feel so…oh, it’s so awful.” Her hand withdrew to her lap.

  “The Lord takes care of such things, Phoebe,” he assured her. “We must believe that, and we must pray.”

  “I guess so,” she said, but she didn’t appear convinced. She stood. “Will you help me eat this breakfast? The boys certainly aren’t getting up, and I can keep warm what’s left over.”

  “I already…” he began but stopped. “Of course I will. It looks delicious.” He turned his chair to face the table.

  “Will you pray, then?”

  He nodded and bowed his head. This was more than a prayer. It was a test, perhaps, or a cry for help, and this was his chance to come to her aid. He sent a silent cry heavenward before he opened his mouth: Help me, dear Lord. Never before had he prayed out loud in his own words, let alone in front of Phoebe Lapp. If he passed out, he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

  “Lord, come to our aid this morning,” he began.

  “Amen,” Phoebe muttered from the chair beside him.

  “Forgive us where we have sinned in thinking too high thoughts of ourselves,” he continued. “In thinking we could do things which are too high and mighty for anyone but You, O Lord. Comfort our hearts this morning, especially Phoebe’s, after all the things she heard last night that are not pleasing to You. Give us fresh grace today and mercies anew with the dawning of a new sun. Rest our weary bodies and minds, and restore what has been lost through a sleepless night. We will rest again today, confident that You will still be with us. And bless this food and all the many other blessings You are giving us with this day. Be with Phoebe, and give her great blessings for preparing this food after a weary night, and let her find favor in Your eyes and confidence that all will be well in the end. Amen.”

  “Amen,” she whispered, raising her eyes to him. “Thank you, David. That was so kind of you.” She passed him the plate of eggs. “This is small thanks. I just wish they were still warm from the frying pan.”

  “They are perfect,” he said as he helped himself to three of them.

  She passed him the bread plate and the butter.

  “You should eat,” he said. “Don’t just serve me.”

  Her smile flickered, and she turned to her own plate. He watched while she took one egg and hesitated.

  “Yah,” he told her. “You need two at least.”

  Her laugh was soft. “Now you’re spoiling me, but I do need nourishment after a night like…” Her voice faltered again, but she ate without comment in the stillness of the kitchen, the hiss of the gas lantern above them.

  David kept his gaze away from her face. It was enough that he had been granted such access to her heart this morning. He’d sat at Phoebe Lapp’s kitchen table and not only listened to her troubles, but also had been able to soothe her ruffled spirits. And where had the stumbling words of that prayer come from?

  David lifted his head as he heard buggy wheels in the driveway. Phoebe leaped to her feet and raced to the kitchen window. “Uncle Homer!” she exclaimed. “He’s come to check on things.” She smoothed her apron twice and checked the kitchen window again.

  “You’ll be okay. Just tell him it was a rough first night. He’ll understand.”

  “Certainly nothing about Poltergeist.” Her laugh was nervous.

  “Certainly not,” he agreed as she hurried to the front door. He stayed at the table and continued to eat.

  A moment later he heard Homer’s booming voice from the kitchen doorway. “Goot morning, young man. I see you’re on the job bright and early.”

  “Just trying to help out.” David offered his best smile. “But I think Phoebe has things under control.”

  “Had a difficult night, though, I hear,” Homer said. He pulled out a chair. “Care if I have some breakfast, Phoebe?”

  “Help yourself,” she told him. She passed the eggs. “I’m afraid they’re a little cold.”

  “Goot enough for me.” Uncle Homer chuckled as he piled several onto his plate.

  Phoebe gave David a grateful smile as her uncle spread his bread with a thick slab of butter and topped it with a generous helping of jam.

  “Do you have any suggestions for getting the boys to bed earlier?” Phoebe ventured.

  “Hard work!” Uncle Homer proclaimed. “There’s nothing like physical labor to get unruly boys to bed at night.”

  “That sounds simple enough.” Phoebe turned toward David. “Do you think you can find chores for them?”

  “I’ll try.”

  Uncle Homer pounded him on the back several times. “You’ll do just great. I know you will. If you run out of tasks, bring them over to my place, and we can find plenty that needs doing.”

  Phoebe beamed at him as David nodded in agreement.

  Taking the boys to Uncle Homer’s place for work wouldn’t be approved of by Mrs. Broman, but he would consider it as a last resort. Anything to make the week more peaceful for Phoebe.

  EIGHTEEN

  On Friday afternoon Ruth paced the schoolhouse floor on Peckville Road. The children had left ten minutes ago, and a mound of ungraded papers lay on her desk. An experienced teacher would finish them in an hour, but she was new at the task. Dusk would fall by the time she completed her weekly duties. Last week she had trudged home, weary but satisfied with her accomplishments. Today was different.

  The emotions of the past had returned. The memories of bygone rejections from the community had bubbled to the surface. All week they had percolated, stirred by the things David had told her about the happenings at Grandma Lapp’s place.

  “Phoebe’s really holding up well,” he had said, and his eyes shone with happiness. “But George and Bill sure are a handful.”

  Ruth knew her brother well enough to know he wasn’t telling the whole story. David was in love with Phoebe. Where had he found the courage?

  How both of their fortunes had turned! She was the community’s schoolteacher, and he had designs on Grandma Lapp’s granddaughter. David was happy. His dreams would be fulfilled if Phoebe returned his affections. But was Ruth happy? Was her heart truly in this change? She told herself she was. She could smile and cheerfully answer any questions about her schoolteaching job, but David’s casual statement yesterday evening after supper had upset the applecart.

  “Keep us in mind,” he’d said. “Ethan’s picking up George and Bill. He’ll spend Friday afternoon at the farm to see how things have gone this week. We need a goot report to keep this going.”

  She and Mamm had been the only ones in the kitchen at the time. Mamm had smiled and nodded, and Ruth had studiously ignored the remark, though David must have noticed the sudden intake of her breath. Had he meant the words for her ears? Was there a subliminal message? Did David mean she should be there if she wanted to see Ethan? That’s what her heart whispered. Walk up and see him, Ruth. Show Ethan you still care.

  Only she didn’t…but she did. What a mess this was! Which was exactly why she should stay here in the schoolhouse until her work was completed and Ethan had driven safely away from Grandma Lapp’s farm.

  Ruth paused her pacing in front of the schoolhouse window and gazed across the road to the Yoders’ farm. She had to see Ethan. He was so close.

  A team of horses stood in front of the barn door attached to a wagon, and Emil Yoder or one of his boys would be
out any minute to drive them into the fields. With Emil out of the way, she could amble down the road and wave to women working in their kitchens. They would assume she had completed her work early and was walking down to see how things progressed with her brother’s new undertaking. No one need know about conversations with Ethan.

  Which was wrong and dishonest if she planned to end her rumspringa. Hadn’t she broadcast those intentions with her acceptance of the schoolteaching job, not to mention her plans to join the baptismal class this fall? That was all true.

  Ruth paced again. Ethan was still in her heart. He was an ache that wouldn’t cease. How did one pull such affections out and cast them aside as if they had never been? She had consoled herself that Ethan had never returned her feelings with the intensity she had felt for him. Her efforts had not convinced him to show her more than a passing interest. Did she hope to change that? Why take this risk? Why continue to expose her heart to pain? Was she unable to accept the kindness or acceptance the community offered her?

  Ruth sighed and stared across the road again. The wagon was still there. She was foolish to think that all would be well now that she was the community’s schoolteacher. The community’s approval was a balm for the soul, but she still loved Ethan. David might win Phoebe’s love, but no Amish man would take Ruth as his bride. Not in a thousand years. She was a Fisher. She was goot only for the status of an old maid, not as someone’s beloved frau. So what if she changed her mind or Ethan came to his senses? Shouldn’t the bridge back to Ethan be maintained? At least she could see if the link was still there. Perhaps that would decide the matter. If Ethan was cold and distant, her heart would receive the message and act accordingly.

  Ruth hurried back to her desk and straightened the stack of papers before laying a book on top of them. They would appear less formidable to anyone who should stop in while she was out. At the front door she paused. The wagon was gone. Was it a sign? With quick steps she made her way out to Peckville Road. Someone moved in the kitchen window of the Yoders’ home, and Ruth waved with a cheerful smile. She was a bold one, but her heart pounded.

  Ruth turned north at the intersection and approached the Lapps’ farm at a slower pace. No sense in arriving all breathless even if Ethan welcomed her—which was uncertain. A van was parked in front of the barn, so he was here. She would see him again after weeks of silence. Ruth slowed her walk further. What if he ignored her? Or her appearance disturbed the activities of the afternoon? The front lawn was empty, and so was the kitchen window. She would leave again if she wasn’t welcome and lick her wounds at the schoolhouse.

  Ruth approached the barn and pushed open the door. The dusty interior was lit by light from the barn windows, and the murmur of voices—laced with bursts of laughter—rose to the rafters. The past week must have been a success for the two boys and for Phoebe’s venture with David by her side. Ruth crept past the unused cow stanchions and tiptoed up to the cluster of people gathered by the back barn door.

  David noticed her first and turned with a smile. “You’ve come down for a visit.”

  “Yah. Is that okay?”

  “Of course it is!” Phoebe exclaimed, giving Ruth a quick hug. “Welcome to the end of our happy week.”

  Ruth tried for a light tone. “So everything went well like David claimed?”

  Phoebe laughed. “We followed Uncle Homer’s goot advice and kept the boys busy with work around the place, and they didn’t keep me up all night after that.”

  “Oh!” Ruth said. “So I guessed right. There were problems.”

  “Didn’t David tell you?”

  “You said you were handling things,” David muttered.

  “He undersells himself, I see.” Phoebe gave his arm a playful slap. “You shouldn’t, David.”

  Ruth stepped away from them to catch sight of Ethan out in the barnyard, where he and the two young Englisha boys stroked the necks of the ponies.

  “Are you done early at school?” Phoebe asked from behind her.

  Ruth jumped. “Not really. I just thought I’d slip down to see how things are going. I’m planning to run right back up again.”

  “That was so thoughtful of you. But like I said, David has been wunderbah, and I learned so much this week.”

  “I’m glad,” Ruth responded. “So this is George and Bill? I haven’t met them yet.”

  “Come, then.” Phoebe motioned Ruth forward and hollered through the barn door, “George and Bill! Come meet Ruth. She’s David’s sister.”

  Ruth kept her gaze away from Ethan’s smiling face as she shook hands with the boys. “Hi. Did you have a goot week?”

  They both shrugged.

  “It was different but okay,” George finally managed. “I’m looking forward to a good horror movie this evening.”

  Phoebe made a choking sound, but George didn’t seem to notice. “We’ve enjoyed the week,” he admitted. “But don’t get me wrong. Peace and quiet is…well, it’s been different.”

  Bill nodded his agreement, and the two turned their attention back to the ponies.

  “They’ve gotten more out of the week than they know,” David whispered in Ruth’s ear. “Don’t let them fool you. Phoebe impressed them both deeply, and so did their stay on the farm.”

  “Shh,” Phoebe whispered. Her face reddened as Ethan approached them.

  “So who have we here?” Ethan proclaimed. “Ruth, the Amish schoolteacher, I hear.”

  Ruth’s heart pounded. All of her boldness seemed to have flown far away.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Ethan teased. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m quite impressed with the farm. This idea of yours, Ruth, was an excellent one. The boys say their week was very enjoyable, and I sense a peace about them. I think the stay was good for both of them.”

  What did you expect? The sharp retort died on Ruth’s lips. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “That’s kind of you to say. But I knew Phoebe was up to the task.”

  “Seems you were right,” he agreed.

  “And this wasn’t all my idea,” she corrected him.

  “That’s not the point. This is working, and I’m glad. We’ll do a physiological analysis on the boys next week, but I suspect the findings will only confirm my instincts. Farm life and exposure to animals in a peaceful setting will improve a lot of things. All you need is a dog, and this place will be perfect.” Ethan laughed.

  “That’s not impossible,” David told him. He joined in the laughter.

  “I’m thinking a dog and a couple of cats would be goot for girls when they come,” Phoebe added. “There are some coming, aren’t there?”

  “Perhaps. Mrs. Broman makes those choices, and I don’t interfere.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Can we take a ride on the ponies?” Bill called from the barnyard. “One more before we leave?”

  “Help yourself,” Ethan hollered back. “I’m here for another hour or so.”

  “They’re becoming experts,” Phoebe commented as the boys mounted and rode out of the barnyard. Everyone stepped outside to watch them leave.

  “I think I have to agree,” Ethan said. “Good job, Phoebe and David. I’m glad to see it.”

  As they watched the boys ride, Ethan eyed Ruth sideways. “How’s schoolteaching going? Somehow I can’t picture you—”

  “Don’t say it,” Ruth snapped. “I know I don’t have a degree, but Amish don’t have things like you do. Be thankful we can read and write, unlike some of your students I’ve heard about.”

  “Careful there!” Ethan chuckled. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I’m impressed. Not everything in the world must be done according to formula. Abraham Lincoln split rails and learned to read by a stone hearth.”

  “There you go,” Ruth said. “Don’t forget that.”

  Ethan laughed. “You are touchy today…but you’re here.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ethan motioned with his chin over his shoulder. “Can I have word with you? In priv
ate?”

  Ruth nodded and avoided David’s and Phoebe’s glances. She shouldn’t do this, but neither should she have come up here. It was too late to turn back.

  “What?” she asked once they were out of hearing distance. She had no right to snap at Ethan, but she had to mask her feelings.

  “Where have you really been? What’s going on with us?”

  She looked away. “I think you know. I’ve been—”

  “What does this mean?” he interrupted. “Why haven’t I seen you in town?”

  “Did you want to?” She sneaked a glance at his face.

  “Of course, Ruth. I miss you.”

  “Really?” Her cynicism was also unnecessary, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I thought our relationship was—” He stopped. “Well, never mind. I guess I was wrong.”

  “Ethan.” She reached for his arm. “I…we…” How could she say this?

  His gaze pierced her. “I thought we were going somewhere. That you were trying to…”

  “Reach you?” she finished. “Yah, I was. But I never knew if I was getting through. I guess I gave up.”

  “So you’re gone for good? After all that?”

  Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Maybe not, Ethan. I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “If I can change things now, or rather…maybe I should have changed them to begin with.”

  His smile was grim. “Typical female, I see.”

  “That wasn’t nice. I tried. I did, and I was given a chance by the community, which—”

  “Doesn’t include me.”

  “I wouldn’t say it quite like that, but—”

  “But it’s the truth?”

  “Yah, if you insist.”