by Linda Byler
Nobody answered, so Lizzie stood in the middle of the crowd and put her face in her little black apron and cried. Sobs tore at her throat and hot tears poured down her cheeks.
“Hey! Hey! What have we here? What’s wrong, little one?” A huge white cowboy hat, with a darkly tanned face with piercing blue eyes was down at Lizzie’s level as the cowboy hunkered down in front of her.
Lizzie was scared and so embarrassed, but she peeped over the safety of her apron and sniffed.
“Did you lose your dad, little girl?” He smiled kindly at her, and Lizzie thought his teeth grew from his mustache.
“Ya,” Lizzie nodded her head.
“Ya?” He laughed, and straightened up, taking her trembling little hand. “I guess that means ‘yes’.”
“Yes. I cannot find him,” Lizzie replied in her best English manners.
He smiled down at her and said, “I think I know who your dad is. Do you have another sister?”
Lizzie nodded her head again.
“Okay, then, here we go.” And he pushed through the crowd, holding her hand safely in his.
“Lizzie!” Dat came hurrying through the crowd. “Thank the Lord someone found you!”
Emma ran up to Lizzie, holding her hand firmly. Dat told the cowboy he was very grateful to him for bringing his daughter back.
“She must’ve been with the ponies too long, huh?” he asked Lizzie.
Lizzie smiled shyly through the last of her tears, and Emma got her handkerchief and wiped Lizzie’s face, just like a little mother. Lizzie was so glad to see Emma, she didn’t even care if she acted bossy.
Dat and the cowboy talked a while longer, then he told the girls goodbye. “You’d better stay with your dad and sister, little one,” he told her, patting her head.
“Tell him thank you, Lizzie,” Dat said.
“Thank you,” Lizzie said quietly.
“Be good, sweetheart,” the cowboy said with a smile, and he walked slowly away, his boots making a dull, clapping sound.
Dat asked Lizzie quite seriously what happened that they became separated. Lizzie told him about the gray pony and how much she wanted that one.
“But, Dat, do you think you’ll have enough money?” She stood on her tiptoes, twisting her black apron in her fingers. Her eyes were so anxious, and she looked so pale, Dat’s heart was touched. That’s my Lizzie, he thought. When she wants something, she really, really wants it.
When it was time for the ponies to be sold, in the very front row stood Dat, with Emma and a very anxious little Lizzie.
As the bidding started, and the first pony was led into the ring, Lizzie’s knees began to shake. Her teeth chattered, and she clenched the iron rail in front of her. She looked nervously over at Emma, who stood calmly watching the people and chewing her gum.
Lizzie tried hard to stop her teeth from chattering, but the auctioneer’s singsong voice gave her goose bumps. So her teeth chattered even more, and just when she thought she couldn’t take one more minute of suspense, the gray pony was led to the ring.
“D-d-dat!” Lizzie tried to talk but she just pointed instead.
“That one?” Dat asked.
Lizzie only nodded her head yes, looking wildly at Dat with huge, terrified eyes.
The auctioneer told the crowd about this nice little gray mare, how old she was, and that she was broke to drive or ride. Lizzie understood some of it, but she only knew that never in her life had she wished so hard for something.
The auctioneer kept going, and Dat kept nodding his head. Lizzie’s heart beat loudly in her ears, and her cheeks hurt from biting down on her chattering teeth. Suddenly Dat held up a card with big black numbers on it and he let out a loud breath.
“She’s ours, girls—we bought her!” he told them.
Lizzie beamed and beamed. She laughed out loud, and skipped only a little bit, because people were watching them. As they made their way through the crowd, Lizzie found Emma’s hand and squeezed. “Emma, we have a pony,” she breathed.
“It’s a girl pony, even. She’s so pretty. We’re going to drive her and ride her and feed her apples,” Emma said.
“Yep!” Lizzie hopped on one foot. “Hey! And we have all those apples in our yard!”
Emma frowned. “But, Lizzie, you can’t give our pony too many apples or she’ll get sick. Just one or two.”
Lizzie was too happy to even think Emma was bossy, so she just agreed nicely.
So later that evening, in their little barn in the back yard, the Glick family all worked together, spreading fresh straw and building a little wooden trough for the pony’s oats. Lizzie ran in circles and swept the floor wherever Emma hadn’t swept.
And when a trailer pulled in the drive, and a small gray pony found a new home, Lizzie’s world was full to overflowing with happy thoughts.
chapter 9
School
Emma and Lizzie stood on the porch, their hair freshly done, and wearing brand new lavender dresses with black aprons. Their new shoes were not brand spanking new anymore, but they still looked very nice.
Emma clutched a little metal lunchbox in her hand. Lizzie held one exactly like Emma’s, except Mam had tied a piece of red yarn on the handle, so Lizzie would know which one was hers.
It was the first day of school. Emma was six years old now, but Lizzie was only five. Actually, Lizzie was almost too young to go, but Mam wanted them to start together. They were only a little over a year apart in age, so it was good to start their first grade the same year.
They were waiting on the neighbor girl who they were supposed to walk to school with. She was a lot older, and her name was Lavina Lapp. The girls had met her since living in their new house above the harness shop, and she was always friendly and talkative. Lizzie liked her.
“Here she comes,” Emma breathed nervously.
“Does she?” Lizzie looked around for Mam and Mandy, but they had gone back upstairs. She dashed to the door of the harness shop and yelled, “Dat! We’re leaving now! Goodbye, Dat!”
His head appeared around the saddle tree. “Oh, Lizzie—are you going now? Be good girls, and I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Bye, Dat,” they called in unison.
“Bye, girls,” Mam waved from the kitchen window.
“Bye, Mam!” They turned their eager faces up to the kitchen window as they waved to Mandy. Lizzie wasn’t sure, but she thought it looked like Mam wiped away a tear. Lizzie felt a lump rise in her throat, but she soon felt better when Lavina Lapp smiled at her.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hi!” Emma said brightly.
“All ready? Good, let’s go, because we don’t want to be late the first morning, do we?”
So they started up the road at a brisk walk. Lizzie was too excited to think about getting tired. Lavina Lapp chattered on about school, and Emma walked beside her, answering her questions and asking some of her own. Lizzie didn’t say much. She just kept walking and was careful to get off the road when a vehicle passed.
They passed a farm, cornfields where heavy ears of corn hung on brown stalks, and a herd of black and white cows grazing.
The little white one-room schoolhouse came into view, and Lizzie’s heart did a complete flip-flop. There was a porch, and a fence with a gate that was pulled open. A horse shed and two outdoor bathrooms stood in a corner of the school yard. There were already lots of children at school and Lizzie felt very afraid.
She bit down hard on her lower lip and watched the children as they walked through the gate. Some of the boys were throwing a baseball, but others turned to stare at them. Lizzie just kept walking, clutching her lunchbox tighter in her hand.
“Good morning!” The teacher stood on the porch, watching them approach. Lizzie hid behind Lavina as she said, “Good morning,” to the teacher.
Emma said, “Good morning,” too, but not very loud. Lizzie didn’t say anything. She just stared at the teacher. She was very thin, with a long black dress. Her for
ehead was wide, and she wore glasses, and her white covering was bigger than Mam’s. She looked friendly enough, but she also looked scary. Lizzie wondered if she spanked little first graders. She looked like she could really spank.
The teacher bent down and smiled at Lizzie. “So, you must be Emma Glick’s sister? Is it Lizzie?”
Lizzie nodded her head yes. She looked up at the teacher’s face and tried to smile, although her mouth was shaking a bit.
“So you are both in the first grade this year? And Lizzie, you are not quite six years old yet. Do you think you will be able to pull your share?” She smiled at Lizzie and continued, “My name is Sylvia King. But you may call me Teacher, or Teacher Sylvia.”
They turned to enter the schoolroom, and Lizzie opened her eyes wide in astonishment. She had never seen a blackboard of that size. It was huge and black, with rows of letters on a white board above it. In front of the blackboard stood the teacher’s desk, with a neat row of books stacked on top. Beside the desk was a shiny brown coal stove, with a stainless steel teakettle on top and a hod of coal beside it. The walls were painted a pale blue color, with white blinds hanging at the windows. But the most amazing thing was the row after row of wooden desks. The sides were black wrought iron, and each desktop had a small hole on top, with a crease to hold your pencil.
Lizzie walked shyly over to the first desk and touched it. She felt the crease along the top and wondered what the hole was for.
Along the back wall were rows of bright gold hooks mounted on pale brown boards. There was a piece of adhesive tape above every hook, with names written in black letters. Lizzie wondered if her name was anywhere, but it was too far to walk by herself. She felt safer to stay against the big desk, close to Emma.
Teacher Sylvia walked to the back of the room and pulled on a long rope that disappeared into a small hole in the ceiling. Lizzie heard the sound of those wonderful bells for the very first time. She never tired of the deep, “dong-dong” sound after that.
Suddenly, a herd of children, all ages, sizes, and descriptions, burst through the door. Their metal lunchboxes clattered as they set them on the low wooden shelf. Lizzie looked down at hers, still clenched tightly in her hand. She punched Emma in the ribs and whispered, “Aren’t you going to put your lunch away?”
“Oh.” Emma looked as scared as Lizzie felt. “I guess. Come with me.”
Lizzie marched bravely after Emma and they put their lunches on an empty shelf. They watched as the other children looked on the top of every desk. Emma whispered to Lizzie to just stay with her. Teacher Sylvia came to the back of the room and put her hand on Lizzie’s shoulder.
“Come, girls, we’ll find your seats. You’ll find your name written on the piece of tape. Let’s see if you can find your seats. Can you write your own name?”
Emma nodded her head. Lizzie was too shy to do anything except walk along under that hand on her shoulder. It seemed so far across the classroom and she felt like every pair of eyes was staring at her. She hoped her dress was buttoned properly and her bob was not falling down.
“Here we are—first grade,” Teacher Sylvia said. Lizzie looked around and saw two small girls and a boy who also looked a bit shaken. They all found their desks and slid into them, sneaking shy glances at each other.
Lizzie’s desk was the first one before the teacher’s desk. When Teacher Sylvia sat down, Lizzie was really close to her. It was comforting to know the teacher was nearby, and this way she could easily see the blackboard.
She squirmed a little to make herself more comfortable on the slippery varnished seat. She tucked her legs underneath, and her new shoes crinkled at the toes. She laid her arms on the desk, and clasped her hands together. She sighed a little, trying to relax enough to listen to what Teacher Sylvia was saying.
First she said loudly and clearly, “Good morning, boys and girls!”
Most of the children answered, “Good morning, Teacher.” Some of the little ones didn’t say it at all, and others whispered it shyly. But everyone kind of said it all together, so you couldn’t really tell.
After that, the teacher started reading from the Bible in her loud, clear voice. Lizzie tried to follow carefully, but she kept stealing glances at the girl beside her.
She was about the same size as Lizzie, and she was wearing a dark green dress that had little bumps in it. Lizzie wished her lavender dress was as fancy as hers.
Now the teacher closed the Bible and they all rose and stood beside their desks. They all said the Lord’s Prayer, except Lizzie and Emma didn’t know it, so they just stood quietly and listened.
After the prayer was finished, they took turns to file to the front of the room. Lizzie didn’t know how they could all know what to do, because the teacher didn’t tell them.
She stood by the blackboard and turned some students around, or changed the taller ones with some who were shorter. Lizzie and Emma were put in the front row, where all the little children stood. Lizzie wished she could see behind her, but she was much too shy. So she just blinked her eyes and tried to stand up straight beside Emma.
Teacher Sylvia handed out blue songbooks to some of the children. Lizzie wondered why they didn’t all have one until the teacher showed them how to share. She smiled and said, “Now we’re going to take turns to pick a song. Elam, you are the first one in the back row, so you may pick first.”
There was an awkward pause, and some of the first graders did turn around to see who Elam was, but Lizzie kept looking straight ahead because she wanted to be a good girl on the first day of school.
A voice from the back announced, “Forty-eight,” and everyone noisily flipped through the pages of the songbook. Lizzie and Emma didn’t know how to find that page, so they just stood there. Lizzie felt scared and very, very lonely. She swallowed and tried not to feel so sad, but it welled up until tears pricked her eyes.
Teacher Sylvia walked over and helped Lizzie find the page. The singing welled around them louder and louder, and Lizzie bit her lip, trying hard not to feel lonely.
“My Lord, what a morning,
My Lord, what a morning,
My Lord, what a morning,
When the stars begin to fall.”
On and on the children sang, and lonelier and lonelier Lizzie became. She tried to think of happy things, of good things to eat, and of silly things, but the huge lump in her throat only grew bigger. She looked down and bit her lip, shuffling her feet, but the lump in her throat would not go away. She glanced at Emma, and Emma smiled a weak smile, trying to cheer her up.
In that moment, huge, wet tears coursed down Lizzie’s cheeks, and a harsh sob escaped her bitten lips. She was soon crying uncontrollably, wishing she could go home to Mam before the stars fell and the end of the world came. Wouldn’t it be awful, if the stars fell from the sky and she was in school, and Dat and Mam were at home?
Emma touched her arm, and Teacher Sylvia put her hand on her shoulder. Lizzie cast a terrified glance at the teacher, but she was whispering to Emma.
Emma took Lizzie’s hand and tugged gently. Lizzie followed Emma across that big expanse of schoolroom to the door while the singing went on. Emma led her across the porch and down to the little outdoor bathroom. They huddled together while Emma tried to console Lizzie in earnest tones.
“Lizzie, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”
Lizzie cried horribly. She couldn’t tell Emma about the deep black loneliness she felt when they sang that song. So she just shrugged her shoulders, and Emma wiped her eyes and told her to be quiet. She said Lizzie would have to be a good girl and grow up now, and not cry in school. So Lizzie gulped and choked and nodded her head. She would be all right, she assured Emma. And much to Lizzie’s surprise, she really was.
And she learned to love school, in spite of sad songs.
chapter 10
Going for Milk
One afternoon when the girls came home from school, Mam had made fresh molasses cookies, and the smell of the kitchen was warm a
nd cozy after the wind blew them home.
The cookies were all in rows on a blue tablecloth. They were dark brown in color, and little cracks ran across the top. Crystal white sugar was sprinkled over them, and some fell into the little “ditches.” Lizzie loved molasses cookies, especially when Mam made hot cocoa to dip them in.
Mandy came running to greet them, and Lizzie threw her lunchbox on the counter and hugged her. “Hi, Mandy!”
Mandy squealed with delight and hugged Lizzie back. “Hi, Lizzie!”
“What did you do today?” asked Lizzie.
“Made cookies,” Mandy told her proudly. “I helped put sugar on them.”
Mam went to the refrigerator to get milk to make cocoa. She rearranged a few pitchers and said, “Oh, no—we’re completely out of milk!”
Emma already had her mouth full of cookie. “Mmmm,” she mumbled.
“I know.” Lizzie hopped up and down. “We’ll go! We’ll hitch up Dolly and go to Uncle James’s for milk. We could, easy!”
Mam looked a bit doubtful, but when Emma chimed in, she got the little tin gallon jug ready for them.
“Alright, then. But you have to ask Dat to help you hitch up. Emma, you know you have to go the back alley, and don’t even think of going on the road.”
“We won’t, we won’t!”
The girls dashed down the stairs and burst into the harness shop. Dat looked up from his sewing machine. He never had a chance to say hello or smile before the girls yelled, “Dat, Mam said if you help us hitch up Dolly we’re allowed to go to Uncle James’s for milk. Are you going to?”
Dat put down his piece of leather and swiveled in his stool. He took his pipe from his mouth and set it beside the sewing machine. He got up and smiled down at them.