“That I did,” Dora said, shutting the basement door behind her. “They needed me to help with chores right early. And they almost killed me.”
“Now, now. No pity parties.” Mamm laughed, but her voice was firm. “I’ll take over supper from here. It’s Dora’s turn to be outside choring tonight. Daett and the boys will be in from the fields soon. Take Clara with you. Show her what she must learn.”
Ella led the way upstairs to change into chore dresses. Clara and Dora followed close behind. When they were on their way out to the barn, Clara asked, “Do you think I can do this? Is it hard?”
“Of course, you can.” Ella gave her a sideways hug for encouragement. “Just think of all the things you can do. You can draw. You can write. You’ve got Paul’s eye now. After all that, why couldn’t you be milking a cow?”
“What’s that about Paul?” Dora asked, a few steps behind them.
“It’s none of your beeswax,” Clara said, marching forward.
Ella laughed heartily.
“She’s kind of young for that sort of thing,” Dora said dryly.
“Old enough or not, that’s how these things go,” Ella said.
“Ugh,” Dora said, “I don’t think Clara’s going to like this at all.”
“That’s just because you’re so black about things,” Ella teased. “And say, how are you and…let’s see—Norman, isn’t it—getting along?”
“You don’t have to make it sound worse than it is,” Dora said, grinning. “He’s not all bad.”
“Can we talk about something else besides boys?” Clara asked.
“I suppose we could,” Ella said.
“If I’d caught someone like that Aden of yours,” Dora said, “I’d be cheerful too.”
“Ach, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. And you’re not getting my Aden,” Ella said, trying to put a warning in her voice but failing. “Da Hah’s only made one of Aden, you know.”
“You think he’s a dream, that’s what you do,” Dora said. “But let me tell you, no boy’s a dream. There’s always trouble hidden in there somewhere. Aden probably snores all night, I’d guess, and you’ll never be getting any sleep. That and the house will soon be full of babies.”
“I really wish you two would be quiet,” Clara said a little louder this time.
“Don’t worry about Dora,” Ella said, holding open the barn door. “Just remember what you felt when Paul was looking at you. That’s the real thing.”
“You’ll be turning the poor girl’s brain to mush yet,” Dora said with a laugh.
Inside the barn, the low ceilings of the first floor surrounded them. Cobwebs hung on the rafters, and bits of hay fell from the mow. The cows—the first batch already in the stanchions—greedily scooped up the small portion of feed in front of them.
“Needs a good sweeping in here,” Dora said and saw Ella nod in agreement as the girls took down their stainless steel milk buckets and three-legged stools.
“Evenin,” Eli, the oldest of the boys, hollered. “Late as usual, I see. Someday I’ll be findin’ me a girl who knows how to come to choring on time.”
“We’re not late,” Dora said with a glare. She stood at the water bucket behind the cows and dipped the washrag in. “See, I’m ready to wash the cows.”
As Eli turned to leave, Ella said, “Now, Clara, pay attention to what Dora is doing. That’s the first thing to do. You have to wash the underside of the cow’s udders because they’re in the field mud—and even worse—all day.”
Ella got her own washcloth, motioned Clara closer, and pressed her shoulder against the cow’s side. “Sometimes you have to push the cow like this to get in. Then, once they’re over like this, you scrub hard. Always watch out for the tail. It gives a person a nasty whack.”
As if to demonstrate, the cow brought its tail around in a solid thump across Ella’s back. “See,” Ella said, “I think she must have heard me.”
Clara bent over to look at the udder of the cow and noticed little droplets of water, leftover from the wash, clinging to it.
“You then do this,” Ella said as she sat down on the three-legged stool. “You stroke the side of the cow a couple of times and wait a little bit for the milk to come down. If that doesn’t work, then you have to try something else to relax her. Once the udder is full, you set your bucket on the floor, holding it tightly between your feet. That’s just in case old Bossy tries to kick. They usually don’t, but they do seem to know when someone new comes along. Now, with each hand squeeze and pull down. Don’t just pull straight down. Do it with a roll. Start with the top fingers and move downward.”
Ella squeezed, and a stream of white milk shot into the bucket with a loud metallic sound. Across from her, Dora started at the same time. As the spurts of milk made a fast tat-tat-tat sound, two cats dashed out of the shadows and paused in the aisle to stare at the girls.
“Good evening, kitty cats,” Dora said, giving each a spray of milk. The liquid stream flew across the concrete floor and landed in the cat’s mouth with practiced perfection.
“You’re spoiling them again,” Ella said, her voice a gentle chide. Then she turned and added her own stream to the mouths of the cats.
“Now who’s spoiling whom?”
“I couldn’t help myself,” Ella said, “as cute as they are.”
“Soon they’ll be having kittens,” Dora said dryly. “That’s how these things go. We’ll have to spray milk all night long.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ella said, laughing, “but can’t you just see the little fuzzy balls with milk running off their whiskers?”
“You’d be spoiling the whole world if left to yourself,” Dora said, giving another shot of milk to the two cats before brushing them away with her foot.
Ella turned her attention back to Clara and handed her the three-legged stool. Clara reached for it, took a deep breath, and gingerly sat down.
“That’s a big cow,” she said, looking up at the hairy side that rose above her. “What if this thing falls on me?”
“Cows don’t fall,” Ella assured her. “Just take your hand and squeeze like I showed you.”
Clara squeezed hard with both hands. “Oh no,” she said as only a dribble of milk came out, “this will take a year.”
“Harder,” Ella said, encouraging her. “We all learn by doing. Squeeze. Pull. Squeeze.”
Clara worked her hand as the cow, its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth, turned to look back at the young girl.
“She doesn’t like me,” Clara said in panic. “She’s getting ready to kick.”
“Oh, she likes you,” Dora said from her stool. “Cows don’t care who milks them as long as you don’t pinch them.”
“She’s not pinching,” Ella said. “Quit scaring her. She doesn’t even have long fingernails.”
Clara managed to get a longer squirt of milk out.
“I did it,” she squealed.
“You’ve got a long ways to go there, litde girl,” Dora muttered as she got up to empty her bucket into one of the larger milk cans. Dora slowly poured the milk through the strainer and into the can, pausing momentarily when the strainer reached the overflow point. Moments later she emptied the last drops.
“Keep going, Clara,” Ella said. “You’re doing fine. I have to go milk my own cow now.”
Clara worked slowly while Ella and Dora finished their cows and then two more apiece.
“My hands burn like fire,” Clara said in despair, “but I think I’m finally done. No more milk comes out.”
“That’s all you need to do tonight,” Ella said, walking over to her. ‘One cow’s enough. Tomorrow night you can try again. It takes time for your muscles to grow stronger. Now, let me check how well you’ve done.”
Clara stepped back from her cow, and Ella sat down. She quickly began with long even strokes and, to Clara’s surprise, soon covered the bottom of her pail with milk.
“So I didn’t finish the cow,�
�� Clara said, her face fallen.
“Don’t be feeling bad,” Ella said. “I had to check. It wouldn’t be good for the cow if you left milk in it.”
Three
With all of the others having already disappeared inside the house, Ella raced across the yard. Eli met her at the utility room door. “I thought I was always last,” he said with a teasing tone. “So how come you’re the tail tonight?”
“I was helping Clara,” she said, then stopped, and waited outside while he washed at the washbasin. The evening had grown quiet. The noise of the cows in the barnyard was muffled. In the west the sun had set, and the deep shadows settled across the valley, replacing the light of day. Yet even the nighttime had its comfort and strength in the repose that came after a hard day’s work.
She heard Eli splash around in the washroom. He would have the water dirty by now and wouldn’t think to step outside to empty the contents. He was a fine enough young man, as was her younger brother, Monroe. They just needed to be taught some manners.
The noises in the washroom ceased, and Ella stepped inside and, as she expected, found the water dirty, Eli gone, and the soap bar skidded all the way to the back corner of the counter. With the water basin in her hand, she held the door open with her foot and threw the water into the yard.
“Supper, Ella,” Mamm called from inside. “The boys are hungry.”
Perhaps she ought to go on in, sit for the prayer, and then come back out to wash. But, no, they could wait. Eli could have dumped the water out if he had wanted to. That would have saved some time. She refilled the washbasin from the water bucket beside the cabinet and quickly washed her hands.
“We’re hungry,” one of her brother’s roared from the kitchen as she splashed water on her face. There was a general murmur of voices and then silence.
Slowly she dried her hands and face on the towel. That would teach them. She smiled in the semidarkness and then opened the kitchen door with a great rush.
“She wouldn’t be makin’ Aden wait like that, now would she?” Monroe said. “Not when he’s starvin’ from a hard day’s work in the fields like we are.”
“My, my,” their father said with a grin. “You boys will all make it—even as hungry as you are. And just remember this. If you get half as good a wife as Ella, you’ll be doing real good. That’s the kind of wife she’ll make for Aden. Yah.” He nodded his head sharply, his beard jerking with the motions of his chin.
“Ach. She’s only so-so,” Monroe said, waving his arms around. “Can’t she hurry now? And Aden just wouldn’t be a-knowin’ any better, that’s all.”
Ella sat down, ignoring them.
“Are we ready to pray?” their father asked.
Both boys nodded vigorously and then followed the rest, bowing their heads in prayer.
Daett led out in German, “Our grosser Gott im himmel, You who never rest or grow weary, we now pause to give thanks and to bless Your great name. Your name is worthy of honor and glory and praise for as long as the earth stands and heavens shine. Even unto all eternity, You are and were and will forever be. Bless now our home and those who live here. Bless the food that is prepared. Be with those who hunger tonight in other lands and even in our own land. Give them grace, and when we meet them, give us compassion for their needs. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
“Pass the mashed potatoes quick! I’m starving, and I won’t last much longer,” Eli blurted, motioning with both hands toward Dora who sat directly in front of the bowl of white, fluffy, mashed potatoes.
Unmoving, Dora stared at the bowl.
“Potatoes!” Monroe roared.
“Let’s see now,” Dora said slowly, “do I want one spoonful or…maybe I want…two. Or, then again, I think…I’m gaining too much weight. Do you think I should have any at all?” She pondered the question while staring at the bowl with great intensity.
“If you don’t be passin’ that bowl, I’ll be throwin’ a cow on your head,” Eli bellowed, “like right now.”
“Ach! Yah, he will,” Dora said to the others in mock fear. “The great man has spoken, and shall I pass the potatoes, then?”
“I think you’d better,” Daett said. “I could use some myself.”
“Then I suppose I should,” Dora said, taking a spoonful with a sigh. With a sweet smile on her face, she passed the bowl.
“We have to be warnin’ the poor boy who gets her for a wife,” Monroe whispered to Eli. “I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy.”
“You’re a little late,” Dora said with a smirk. “He’s already smitten with my charms.”
“Then he’ll need Da Hah to help him!” Eli declared.
“Children, children,” Daett said, “let’s leave Da Hah out of this. He’s helping all of us.”
“Some more than others,” Eli said with a smirk.
“I will pray for you when it comes time to find a girl,” Dora said. “I’m sure you’ll be needing lots of help.”
“A good wife might help you boys,” Ella said in defense of her sister. “She might show how you are to conduct yourself.”
The boys shook their heads at each other.
“Somebody just drove in,” Mamm said as she rose from her chair to look out the living room window. “It’s Aden’s daett. I wonder what he wants.”
“He might be wantin’ that Belgium for tomorrow,” Daett said. “I told him he could have the horse for a day or two since I know he’ll be careful with it.”
“Maybe you’d best go see, Noah,” Mamm said. “I hope your food won’t be getting cold before you come back in.”
“This can’t take too long,” Daett said. “The Belgium’s in the barn already.” He got up, grabbed his hat, and went out the front door.
There was silence around the table except for the sound of forks and spoons on ceramic plates.
The front door soon opened, and they clearly heard two pairs of footsteps on the floor.
Mamm raised her eyebrows and said, “They must want something from the house.”
Noah appeared in the kitchen doorway and cleared his throat. His left hand gripped his beard tightly. He looked directly into Ella’s eyes across the table.
“I thought he’d best tell you himself,” he said and stepped aside to let Aden’s father, Albert, through the doorway. He stood there, his head bowed, silent tears streaming down his face.
Ella rose from her chair, but Mamm motioned for her to sit back down.
“He has news for us,” Daett said. “Da Hah has seen fit to move with His hand in ways we cannot understand. Yet we know that He is still God, and in this time of trouble, we must not question His ways. Yah, let us always remember that.”
“Is it Lydian,” Mamm asked as she scooted her chair away from the table, “or one of your girls, perhaps? Is there trouble with them?”
Aden’s dad breathed deeply, his hands clasped together in front of him, and then he pulled his blue handkerchief out of his pocket and loudly blew his nose. His lips trembled as he spoke, the words a mere whisper. “Ella, our Aden passed away this afternoon. We only heard an hour ago ourselves.”
“Aden?” Mamm rose to her feet. “But he was not ill.”
Albert shook his head as sobs now racked his body. “I had to come…to tell Ella at once. She is like family to us, like a daughter. Yah, but now this is all lost, and Aden has passed to his reward.”
“What happened?” Mamm asked. All heads turned to Ella, who sat in stunned silence.
Albert didn’t answer but walked slowly over to Ella. He placed his free hand on her shoulder and sobbed into his handkerchief The moments were long before he found his voice again. “I have lost my son, the son whom I loved, but your pain will also be great. You have lost what you never really had.”
“Da Hah will be with us,” Daett said from across the table. “His grace is always enough—even in these times.”
Ella tried to speak but found no words.
Albert gathered
himself together, intending to finish his story. His voice caught, but he tried again. “Aden became ill some days ago. A real hard side ache, he said. We did the usual things for him. We thought he might have overworked himself. They’d been framin’ a house with the work crew. Aden didn’t want to go to the clinic. I guess I should have insisted, but he’s a man now. He just stayed home from work a few days and seemed better after that. It looked as if he knew best…like he’d done the right thing. I didn’t pay much attention anymore. Then he told us he ran a fever last evening. By this morning Laura told him something had to be done. He looked so bad. We took him down to the clinic right away. Doctor sent him right to Tri-County Hospital, and I guess they went to surgery. That’s where he was when we came down. But he never woke out of it, and they told us the appendix had burst. It had burst a day or so ago. It was just too late.”
Albert wiped his eyes. “It’s just so unexpected. Yah, I never would have thought Aden—of all my boys—would go so soon. He was the best of them, and now Da Hah has taken him.”
Mamm stood to her feet and walked over to stand behind Ella. Albert stepped aside. Ella knew her face must be white as she struggled again for words, but not a sound came out. It was useless to try.
“You want to come to the living room?” Mamm asked. “It might be easier there. Yah, come?”
Why was her blood so cold and the whole kitchen so out of place as if she had never seen it before? Ella tried to stand, to allow Mamm to lead her, but she didn’t have the strength. Surely this isn’t true. Aden’s dead? The words must be from a bad dream, but if they are, why can’t I wake up?
“Is Aden…really gone?” she asked, finally finding her voice.
Mamm nodded. “But you shouldn’t talk about it here. Come into the living room.”
What does the living room have to do with anything? I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to hear it. I would rather scream, run out the door, and go find Aden. I want to see that he is alive, feel his arms around me, hear him say everything is okay, and listen to his laugh. He would say someone had misunderstood. He would say that I’m still the most wonderful girl who ever lived and tell me not to be frightened.
A Wedding Quilt for Ella (Little Valley 1) Page 2