A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “You’re not a cripple,” Sam insisted, trying to stand up, but it was slow going disentangling himself from that desk.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Wally yelled, limping backward and overturning desks as he went. Everyone but Sam was on their feet as Wally swiped his arm across the top of the bookshelf and sent the stacks of books tumbling to the ground. “You think it’s such a big joke,” he wailed, pointing a shaking finger at Elsie. “Making fun of me behind my back. All the kids laugh at me. You told them to laugh at me.”

  Sam finally got himself out of his desk. “Wally, it’s going to be okay.”

  Wally’s face was wet with tears and as red as a beet. He glared at Sam, and his rage took Elsie’s breath away. “You lied to me. You and Miss Stutzman pretended to help me when you were really laughing at me.”

  “Wally, stop,” Elsie said, sidestepping four desks strewn across the floor to get to him. Before she could reach him, he hobbled down the stairs, snatching mitts from the stair railing as he went and hurling them in her direction.

  She dodged them easily—she was a softball player, after all—and caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. She wrapped her fingers around his forearm. “Wally, this behavior is beneath you. I will not stand for it.”

  “I hate you,” Wally said, spitting the words from his mouth like venom.

  Sam jogged down the stairs and wrapped his arms around Wally. Wally pounded on Sam’s chest until Sam let go of him.

  Wally gave Sam a shove for good measure. Sam barely budged. “I hate you. I hate all of you.”

  Wally might have slapped him for as wounded as Sam looked. “You don’t mean that.”

  Wally shoved the door open. “Leave me alone. Everyone leave me alone.”

  He ran outside, and Sam followed him, but he soon returned looking as low as a worm, even though he was standing up.

  “Where did he go?” Elsie said.

  “Perry had the pony cart all hitched up. He got on and drove away.”

  Elsie laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “It’s all right. You know he’s going to head straight home.”

  Sam wouldn’t meet her eye as he pulled away from her touch. “You don’t know that. How could you know that?”

  Elsie felt a dull ache right in the center of her chest. How could things have gone so wrong?

  Sam didn’t spare her another look. He took the stairs two at a time. “Mamm,” she heard him say, “I need to get you home and then make sure Wally is okay.”

  “Of course,” Hannah said.

  Elsie ascended the stairs slowly, then started righting the desks Wally had tipped over. Andy Mast and Abe Yutzy helped her as Benjamin Hoover and Menno picked up books. It all seemed so strange. Her heart was as heavy as an anvil, and she was straightening chairs.

  Sam helped his mamm on with her coat. “We’ve got to go find Wally.”

  Benjamin stood up with a pile of books in his arms. “I’m wonderful sorry. I didn’t think he’d be so upset.”

  The look on Sam’s face stabbed Elsie right in the heart. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “It’s mine. All mine.”

  Of course he’d blame himself. He’d been blaming himself for years. Elsie shook her head. “That’s not true, Sam.”

  Sam ignored her, took his mater’s arm, and led her down the stairs without another word.

  Elsie watched out the window as Sam led Hannah to their buggy and they got in and drove away. She could barely breathe from the weight pressing on her chest. She could barely swallow with the icy hand of sorrow clamped around her throat. She could only pray that everything would be all right. Wally would be right as rain in a day or two. He was young, prone to imprudent outbursts, but also resilient and adaptable. Wally would be okay, Lord willing.

  He had to be, or Sam would never forgive himself.

  * * *

  Elsie gripped her pan of lasagna and her basket of doughnuts as if they were the only things keeping her from falling over. Why was she so worried? Surely she could make everything all better with her famous lasagna made with both sausage and hamburger. And if that didn’t work, her assortment of baker’s specialty doughnuts would. Two old-fashioned, three jelly-filled, three apple fritters, and four chocolate with sprinkles. Everyone liked chocolate with sprinkles.

  She shouldn’t be feeling so nervous. Never mind that none of the Sensenig bruders had come to school today or that Rose Mast’s sister Lizzy Jane had said that Sam refused to talk to anybody—today was Friday, and Elsie tutored Wally on Fridays. Nobody had sent her a note or anything, so she was determined to carry on as usual, with a dozen doughnuts and a lasagna as insurance.

  She placed the pan and the basket on the bench that sat on the porch. She and Sam had sat on that bench several times after tutoring sessions and talked about Wally and the dairy Sam hoped to have someday and the lessons Elsie was teaching at school. She was very fond of that bench. She hoped there would be many more evenings spent sitting on it.

  After freeing her hands, she knocked assertively on the Sensenigs’ door as if she were certain they’d give her a warm welcome like they always did. Wally might even have gotten over his tantrum of the day before and be eager for a lesson, especially since he’d missed the introduction to geometry today.

  It wasn’t likely, but she held on to that hope as if it were a basket filled with doughnuts.

  Maggie answered the door. “Ach, Elsie,” she said, throwing herself into Elsie’s arms.

  “How are you, Maggie? How is Wally?”

  Maggie pulled away and wiped her eyes. “It’s like when Fater died, only worse. Wally won’t say a word to anybody, and Sam paces around the kitchen like a tiger at the zoo. You know it’s bad when Mamm has taken to trying to cheer everyone up.”

  “At least Wally’s home. I was terrified he’d run away.”

  Maggie blinked, and a tear trickled down her face. “He came home and smashed our three kitchen windows with rocks. That was before Sam got here to stop him.”

  Elsie gasped. “He broke your windows?”

  “I was in the kitchen when he did it. I thought someone was trying to rob us.” Maggie lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “I got scared and crawled under the table.”

  Elsie slid an arm around Maggie’s shoulders. “I would have done the same thing. Did you get hurt?”

  Maggie pursed her lips in an attempt not to cry. “A couple of cuts on my hands when I got under the table.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry.”

  “I think he would have broken every window in the house if Sam hadn’t come when he did. He tackled Wally to the ground, then wrapped his arms around him so tight he couldn’t breathe.”

  Elsie stopped breathing herself. Sam would hate himself for doing what had to be done. “He did?”

  “Wally struggled something wonderful and whined that he couldn’t breathe, so Sam finally let him up. You know how it says in the Bible that the wicked gnashed their teeth? Wally looked like that when Sam let him loose. He kept yelling over and over again that he hated Sam, then ran into the house and down to the basement. Me and Perry cleaned up the glass while Sam went downstairs to try to talk to Wally, but Wally won’t budge. He won’t talk to any of us. He doesn’t even turn on his games. He just sits there and stares at the TV, like he’s never going to move again.”

  Elsie motioned to her lasagna. “Will he eat?”

  “Ach, he’ll eat all right. Rose brought over a plate of cookies last night. He ate the whole thing.”

  Elsie bit her bottom lip and tried not to think bad thoughts about Rose. Rose had told Mark Hoover’s mamm about the bullying. If it hadn’t been for her, none of this ever would have happened. Her heart got that heavy feeling again. It wasn’t Rose’s fault that Wally had reacted badly. The school board had taken him by surprise.

  Maggie frowned and turned her face away. “Wally likes to make everyone else uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t dream of making himself uncomfortable. He’s selfish that way, but Sam can�
��t see it.”

  “Sam feels responsible for Wally. He’s the big bruder.”

  Pain flashed across Maggie’s face. “He feels guilty.”

  Elsie nodded. Sam took too much on himself. He thought everything about Wally was his fault, as if he could make everything all better for Wally if he just tried hard enough.

  “Wally has always been lazy.” Maggie sighed. “I’m sorry to speak ill of my bruder, but it’s true. The day of Wally’s accident, Sam had insisted that Wally help with the corn. Wally would barely lift a finger after Dat died, and Sam thought it was time that Wally pulled his weight on the farm. Sam thinks it’s his fault Wally lost his leg.”

  Elsie’s throat tightened. It didn’t surprise her that Sam blamed himself for Wally’s accident, but it did make her very sad. No wonder he was afraid to demand anything of Wally. “I don’t wonder that it’s a nightmare he plays over and over in his head.”

  “Sam feels terrible about it. He thinks if he hadn’t insisted Wally help, Wally never would have gotten in that accident.”

  “But Maggie, you don’t believe it’s Sam’s fault, do you?”

  Maggie widened her eyes. “Of course not, but the guilt eats at Sam all the same. It’s why he quit demanding things of Wally the day Wally lost his leg.” She gave Elsie a sad smile. “Then you came along, and they were both improving—until yesterday. Wally has gone back to pouting and playing the cripple to get his way, and Sam is like a machine. He won’t listen to me or Mamm when we tell him that Wally needs a gute kick in the seat of his pants.”

  Elsie wasn’t prone to cry, but she wanted to weep for Sam and Wally. They were both fighting hard battles in their heads, coping any way they knew how, making themselves more miserable than they had to be. “Do you think I could talk to Sam?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s wonderful upset.”

  “I brought lasagna,” she said.

  Maggie’s frown sank farther into her face. “He disappeared into his bedroom when Rose brought cookies last night.”

  Elsie pressed her lips together. A lasagna was more powerful than a plate of cookies, wasn’t it? Mammi always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Elsie caught her breath as she realized how badly she wanted to find a way to Sam’s heart.

  She really, really liked him.

  Maybe she even loved him.

  That thought sent her head reeling. How could she love Sam Sensenig? He was ill-tempered and rude and certainly didn’t like her. Then again, he had made a point to tell her he didn’t have a girlfriend, and he often sat in on tutoring sessions. Elsie got the feeling it wasn’t just so he could supervise Elsie’s teaching.

  “Cum,” Maggie said, picking up Elsie’s basket. “There’s no harm in trying.”

  Elsie retrieved her lasagna from the bench and followed Maggie into the house. It was cold and drafty in the living room and downright frigid when they got to the kitchen. Someone had boarded up the windows, which kept out critters and light, but it did nothing to stop the cold air. The room was dark and gloomy, even though two propane lanterns glowed on either side of the room.

  “Sam ordered new windows today. They’ll be here next week. I just hope the pipes don’t freeze before then.”

  Elsie set the pan of lasagna on the table and surveyed the damage. The windows were gone, of course, but there were also scratches in the linoleum where the glass had hit. Three pieces of a red canister sat in the sink. “The cookie jar?”

  Maggie nodded. “Hit by one of the rocks.”

  This was a setback for sure and certain. Sam was trying to save money for milking equipment, but he wouldn’t get anywhere if he had to keep paying for broken windows and shattered cookie jars—not to mention the fact that Wally seemed to be back at square one, or maybe even worse than square one. She had to do something to help.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Elsie turned to see Sam come up from the basement and shut the door quickly behind him. He wore a day’s growth of whiskers on his face and a scowl as threatening as a wolverine’s.

  It was all Elsie could do not to take a step back at the raw hostility on his face, but if she knew how to do anything, it was hold her ground. “Sam, I’m so sorry. How is Wally today? I missed him at school.”

  The muscles of Sam’s jaw twitched. “You shouldn’t be here. If Wally sees you, he’ll get even more upset. You need to go.”

  Elsie’s heart flipped over itself. “I . . . I just came to see how—”

  Sam took two big steps that brought him close enough to loom over her, as he seemed so fond of doing. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and tugged her in the direction of the living room. She was so shocked, she didn’t even try to resist as he pulled her past the sofa and out the front door. “I mean it, Miss Stutzman,” he hissed. “If Wally sees you, he’ll start throwing things.”

  Elsie couldn’t have been more unnerved if he’d slapped her. “Okay, Sam. Okay. I’m not your enemy.” She moved onto the porch and drew in a quick, horrified breath as Sam stepped back and tried to shut the door. She reached out her hand and pressed it against the door to keep it from closing. Sam had muscles, not to mention the fact that he weighed at least a hundred pounds more than she did, and it took all her strength to keep him from slamming it in her face. Sam stopped trying to close it when she resisted. No matter how mad he was, he didn’t want to hurt her. Probably.

  “You need to go,” he said. “I just got Wally calmed down enough to play a video game.”

  “We need to talk.”

  He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. “Why won’t you go? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

  Elsie’s pulse raced with a mixture of anger, hurt, and desperation. She tried to push away the thought that maybe she loved him so she wouldn’t melt into a puddle on his porch. Her tears would not help him. He needed her strength if for no other reason than he was desperate for something solid to lean on. “Sam, listen to me. I am not here for a fight.”

  “Then let me close the door.”

  “Come out here and talk to me.”

  He glanced behind him, pressed his lips together, and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. He couldn’t have looked stiffer if he were made out of wood.

  “You need a coat.”

  He wouldn’t look at her. “I won’t be out here long.”

  She wished she’d had the presence of mind to bring the basket of doughnuts out with her. An apple fritter might have cheered him up a little. At the very least, he wouldn’t have been able to scowl with a mouthful of doughnut. And he was scowling. At her. The thought sent a shard of glass right into her heart. “Sam,” she said, unable to keep the plea out of her voice. “We’re friends. Aren’t we friends?”

  “I trusted you,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and looking anywhere but at her. “I trusted you when you said you wanted to help Wally.”

  “I do want to help Wally.”

  He snapped his head around to glare at her. Another shard of glass to the heart. Did she really want to torture herself with this conversation? “Do you? Or were you so impressed with your own cleverness you didn’t stop to think how your actions would hurt my bruder? Rose warned me, but I wouldn’t believe her.”

  “Sam, Wally is not a lost cause.”

  “Do you think if you say that enough times it will be true?”

  Elsie almost wilted beneath his stare. Oy, anyhow, he was mad. “Give him a few days to calm down.” Wiser words had never come out of her mouth. She should have given Sam a few days. She simply hadn’t expected him to be this angry. “All this time he thought he’d gotten away with bullying the other children, and now it turns out that we knew about it. He’s upset that he didn’t fool us into believing he was a better kid than he was. In a strange way, Wally thinks we betrayed him. Like we were laughing at him behind his back.”

  “We were.”

  “Nae, we weren’t.”

&
nbsp; Sam grunted. “Not laughing at him, but we tricked him. I let you talk me into tricking him.”

  “We didn’t trick him, Sam. We did what we thought was best for him. Just because he’s mad doesn’t mean it wasn’t a gute idea.”

  “It wasn’t a gute idea, and I trusted you to know what was best for him.”

  “I’m not giving up,” she said.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Jah, you are giving up.”

  “Nae, I’m not.”

  “You will give up. I won’t let you hurt Wally ever again.”

  Elsie’s mouth felt as dry as a bale of hay. “I would never hurt him.”

  Sam hesitated, drawing his brows together and studying her face. “I should have stood firm the first day I met you. It’s my own fault for letting you persuade me. What a fool I was to fall for a pretty face. I’ve hurt my bruder.”

  He looked so miserable that she reached out to touch his arm. He pulled back as if she were a rattlesnake. Anger clawed at her throat and helplessness crept into her bones. “This is not your fault, Sam.”

  “Of course it’s my fault.” He turned on her as if moving in for an attack. “For not protecting him from you.”

  This couldn’t be happening. How had they gone from sitting in the barn sharing a pretzel and talking about his dairy to standing on his porch arguing about what was best for Wally? Did he even understand how deeply his words wounded her? “Please, Sam. I am not your enemy.”

  He seemed to sputter to a stop, as if he’d lost too much steam for a fight. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” he said softly. “You’re right.” He turned and opened the door. “You have meant a great deal to our family, and I am very grateful to you for tutoring my bruder. But from now on, Wally’s well-being comes first. I know Wally better than a stranger like you does, and I see that you are not gute for him. Please don’t come over again, and please leave my bruder alone. He’s had enough trials for one lifetime.”

  She didn’t try to stop him as he turned his back on her and went into the house.

  Not even in Charm had she ever been called a trial. Elsie took a deep, shuddering breath and ambled to Dawdi’s buggy as if she had just spent a pleasant evening at Sam’s house. She would go on pretending she had skin as thick as a bear. Sam would never know how his words stung, especially after how hard she had tried with Wally, the nights she had paced the floor worrying about him and the days she had prayed for Gotte’s guiding hand. She’d never let on how deeply she cared for his family, how seriously she took her teaching, or how much she craved a kind word now and then from the parents. And he certainly would never know that her heart had crumbled like one of Mammi’s chocolate and white bean cakes.