A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  When they had first met, Sam had accused her of not having any human feelings. Well, she’d show him just how stoic she could be.

  Because he’d never know how much she loved him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sam blew into his hands before putting on his gloves and picking up the bucket full of milk. Would this hollow feeling deep in his gut ever subside? Not likely, when his thoughts were a jumble of Elsie Stutzman, pizza fractions, Wally, and a dairy that would never be.

  He dragged his feet out of the barn. His only two cows were producing well, but all dreams of starting a dairy had died after Wally’s episode at the school almost three weeks ago. For sure and certain the new windows had set Sam back a bit, but it wasn’t the money. He’d be selfish to start a dairy now when Wally and his other siblings needed so much of his attention. His most important priority was Wally—who seemed to be getting worse, despite all of Sam’s efforts to the contrary.

  When Wally had smashed their windows, Sam finally woke up and realized how much damage Miss Stutzman had done by trying to change his bruder. Sam had made the decision then and there that he wouldn’t send Wally back to school at all. He was in eighth grade, nearly done anyway, and Wally didn’t need the torture of seeing the other children every day, knowing that they had been tricking him all along—knowing that Miss Stutzman had been playing a game that Wally hadn’t been included in.

  Wally couldn’t have been happier about staying home. Sam had let him play Xbox all day, every day, except the Sabbath. It was a blessing that Perry and Danny hadn’t complained about having to go to school when Wally didn’t. They liked school, and they liked Miss Stutzman. At least she hadn’t done anything to damage his two youngest brothers. Sam was grateful for that.

  Wally had only been home for a week when Menno Kiem told Sam they’d be in trouble with the state if Wally didn’t go to school. Miss Stutzman must have told on him. Of course, he didn’t blame her for that. She was walking on eggshells with the school board. For sure and certain she was trying to follow the rules with exactness so as not to lose her job. Something sharp stabbed into Sam’s hollow innards. Miss Stutzman shouldn’t lose her job.

  If truth be told, Sam was almost relieved when Wally had to go back to school. Wally drove Sam crazy when he was home all day.

  Sam, will you fluff my pillow? I’d do it myself, but I have to finish this level.

  Be sure to bring a sandwich down right at noon, or I get really hungry and start to shake. And a cookie, please.

  Do you have milk chocolate chips? I don’t like semisweet.

  Sam pressed his lips together and shoved away the guilt. He shouldn’t ever think of Wally as a nuisance. Wally was his bruder. He loved him like his own self.

  None of his reasons mattered anyway. Two weeks ago, he had forced Wally to go back to school. Wally had been fit to be tied, but Sam had threatened a visit from the school board, and Wally’s arguments died on his lips. Sam had sent Wally with a note to Miss Stutzman warning her that under no circumstances was Wally to play softball or even be forced to go outside for recess. He insisted there would be no cleaning of desks after school and that Wally be allowed to put his foot on the desk and go to the bathroom whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted.

  If Miss Stutzman had had any doubts before, Sam’s note had made things very clear.

  His lungs seized up, and he had to cough to loosen them, just like he always did when he thought of Elsie—Miss Stutzman. He couldn’t understand it. He was so angry with her that he couldn’t see straight, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wondering what boys she was talking to at gatherings, wishing he could make her smile, wanting to see her eyes light up like springtime when he told her a joke. She had some sort of powerful hold over him, something he couldn’t put a name to, but something he needed to stamp out like a grass fire. He would not let thoughts of her consume him in flames.

  He hated her, didn’t he?

  He wished he hated her. His anger would have been so much easier to justify. His guilt would have been so much easier to swallow.

  He hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask the school board to fire her. The other children would suffer if Elsie left in the middle of the year. And he was honest enough with himself to admit that at least part of the fault was his. He held his breath as the pain washed over him. Elsie might have had the idea to help Wally, but Sam had gone along with it, despite his misgivings. He should have put his foot down with Elsie. He should have stayed away from those green eyes and that pretty smile. That was his fault. The responsibility sat squarely on his shoulders, and he thought he might break from the weight of it.

  Wally had gone back to school, but he refused the pony cart, so Sam drove him every day in the buggy. Wally didn’t do anything at school, just sat in his desk and said and did nothing—at least according to Perry. Danny said Wally went to the bathroom seven or eight times a day but didn’t stay for long. It was too cold, and the porta-potty was too stinky as a hiding place. Most likely, Wally’s goal was to irritate Miss Stutzman. Sam didn’t wonder but that it worked.

  Every day after school, Sam would bring Wally home, and Wally would play video games until bedtime. Sam had even bought him two new games. Wally probably got bored playing the same ones over and over.

  Wally had slammed his prosthetic leg into the wall on the same night he had broken the kitchen windows, so now he used his crutches, and there was never any talk of physical therapy or softball. It was better that way.

  On top of that, Sam was getting three or four pot holders a week from Anna Helmuth with notes like, “My granddaughter didn’t know what she was talking about on that bridge. Give her another chance, and I’ll knit you more pot holders.” Under no circumstances was he going to give this mystery granddaughter another chance, but Anna kept sending pot holders anyway. What had Carolyn said? He’d never be good enough for the granddaughter.

  He had to agree with her there. He wasn’t good enough for anybody.

  Sam shut the barn door tight against the wind. November had turned out to be extra cold.

  “Sam, wait!”

  He lowered his head, clasped the edges of his collar around his throat, and marched with renewed purpose toward the house. His legs were longer than Rose’s, but he also had to go slower than she did so he didn’t spill the milk.

  Rose jogged through the snow to catch up with him. “Sam, please let me talk to you. You’ve been avoiding me for three weeks.”

  “It’s too cold.”

  “Then let’s go in the house.”

  “I don’t want you in my house.” It was rude, but he meant it. As Rose would say, “best friends” always told each other the truth.

  Rose grabbed his coat sleeve. He had to stop or spill the milk. “Please won’t you listen? I’m not even going to say I told you so.”

  “You just did.”

  “Well, I was right, wasn’t I? I told you Miss Stutzman would make things worse for Wally. You have to admit I tried to warn you.”

  Sam trudged up the porch steps. “It was also you who got Benjamin Hoover to go to the school board.”

  She followed close behind. “I did not. I just mentioned to his wife how concerned I was for the poor little children Wally was bullying.”

  “My bruder. Wally is my bruder. You wanted to hurt him, and when you hurt Wally, you hurt me.” He opened the door and went into the house, with Rose hot on his heels. He didn’t even protest. Rose was going to follow him whether he liked it or not, and it really was too cold to stand outside.

  Rose pouted with her whole face. “I was trying to protect Wally, Sam. I warned you. Remember, I warned you about the teacher. I know you don’t believe it, but I did what I thought was best for everyone.”

  He placed the milk on the floor next to the table. “It wasn’t what was best for Wally.”

  She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. He flinched and drew away. “Sam, you care so much about Wally that sometimes you ca
n’t see your own hand in front of your face. The teacher wanted Wally to fail from the very beginning. It was clear she didn’t like him. She wanted to prove what a bad kid he was by filling his head with all sorts of impossible dreams and then making him fall—and that’s what happened.”

  Sam furrowed his brow. Is that what had happened? He had been rude to Elsie that first time they met. Had she held it against him all this time? Even Maggie was concerned that he’d gotten on the teacher’s bad side on the first week of school.

  He pressed his lips together. He couldn’t see it. He just couldn’t see it. Elsie was not about getting even. She cared about her scholars, even ones as troublesome as Wally. She’d simply gone about things the wrong way. She’d made mistakes, but Sam knew just as well as he knew that she had green eyes that she hadn’t purposefully tried to hurt Wally.

  That didn’t mean he’d ever let her talk him into anything again, but he knew Elsie wasn’t as bad as Rose made her out to be. Of course, he wasn’t about to defend Elsie to Rose. He’d done that once with disastrous consequences. Besides, they were Elsie’s sins. Let Elsie defend herself if she was so clever.

  Rose seemed to forget that they were having a serious conversation. She clasped her hands in front of her and flashed a shy smile. “Did you taste the pretzels I sent over last night?”

  “Nae.” He had refused to eat any of the cookies and cakes and goodies Rose had been bringing over for three weeks. Eating any of her treats felt as if he would be accepting her apology—which she still hadn’t given him.

  She stuck out her bottom lip like she was seven. “My pretzels are so much better than Carolyn Yutzy’s. They’ll make you forget every other pretzel you ever ate.”

  Sam turned away from her and slowly hung up his coat and hat. The only pretzels he remembered well were the ones he had shared with Elsie Stutzman in Yutzys’ barn. They’d been warm and delicious and sweet as honey, and he could have eaten a whole plate of them. He loved those pretzels.

  He washed his hands at the sink, then turned to Rose and gave her a look that made it plain she had overstayed her welcome. She slumped her shoulders and shaped her lips into a troubled frown. She looked truly miserable. “Sam, I have accepted that you don’t want to be my boyfriend, even though I’m almost twenty years old. But your schwester is married to my bruder, and we are next-door neighbors. We are spending Thanksgiving together tomorrow at Mark and Naomi’s house. Can’t we be friends?”

  “I suppose,” Sam said, not really meaning it. If he agreed to be friends, like as not she’d go away and leave him in peace. And they were spending the next day together at his sister’s house. It would be easier to pretend he was her friend than to hear her whine about it. “I suppose I can still be your friend as long as you know that’s as far as it goes.”

  She burst into a smile that could have broken a mirror. “Of course, Sam. I’m sorry I made you mad, but best friends always forgive each other in the end. I knew you’d come around.”

  Sam ground his teeth together.

  He didn’t like the sound of that.

  Didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I am a little star,” Linda Sue recited. “I have a little light. And when I share my schumerer, my light is extra bright.”

  Elsie gave Linda Sue a big smile as she sat down next to the other children. Whenever Linda Sue forgot her part, she mumbled unintelligible words—like schumerer—to fill the silence. She’d never gotten it right in rehearsal. Why should the program be any different? Not that anybody cared. The parents were just pleased to see their children in a program. Nobody expected perfection. Not even Elsie.

  Elsie sat in the center chair at the very front of the room with her script in hand, just in case one of the scholars needed help with his or her part. She nodded to children when it was their turn and started all their songs and prompted timid performers to give their parts.

  The desks had been cleared out to make room for benches to accommodate all the parents and siblings and grandparents who’d crowded into the classroom to see the annual Christmas program. Elsie and the children had spent a good portion of class time in December learning their parts and making decorations for their special evening.

  Every child had a part—some of the older children had memorized long poems or passages of scriptures. Ida Mae had learned the entire Christmas story from Luke 2. For the grand finale, she was going to recite the scriptures while the rest of the children acted out the nativity as shepherds, sheep, wise men, and of course, Mary and Joseph. Elsie had chosen Ellen Zook to be Mary because Ellen’s mater had let them borrow the new baby to be Jesus.

  Elsie glanced out the corner of her eye at Wally Sensenig. Everybody had a part but Wally. He had refused to say one line, sing one song, or even be one of ten shepherds. And Elsie had no power to make him do anything. Wally’s bruder had made that very clear.

  Elsie breathed deeply to drive back the pain and led the children in singing “Silent Night.”

  Wally came to school every day, sat at his desk, and glared at her for six hours until it was time to go home. He didn’t speak—except to Reuben Schmucker—didn’t associate with the other children, and certainly didn’t do any work. He went to the bathroom over and over again, no doubt hoping to irritate Elsie beyond endurance. It was gute that he didn’t know the truth. She’d rather he not be in her classroom. He was a constant reminder of her failure, and a constant reminder of his handsome older bruder.

  The only person who seemed to affect him at all was Maizy Mischler. Every day after the bell, Maizy would stumble down Wally’s row of desks, lay her hand on Wally’s arm, and give him a kiss on the cheek. She never said anything, and neither did Wally, but he never pulled away from her touch and he always looked like he was thinking deep thoughts after Maizy left.

  Sometimes Elsie would stand at the window after school and catch a glimpse of Sam in his buggy when he came to pick up Wally. Sam looked as miserable as his bruder. Would he ever open his eyes wide enough to see the truth of his own life? Her heart hurt, and not just because she was forced to watch Wally waste his life away. Sam Sensenig hated her, and that thought was a sharp sting to the heart. Ach! It would have been so much better if Wally and Sam had never come into her life.

  She didn’t wonder but Sam felt the same way, but maybe for different reasons.

  Her eyes started to sting, and she pulled herself back to the school Christmas program. It wouldn’t do for her to burst into tears during the carols. Of course, everyone would just assume her tears were because she’d been so moved by the performance. Crying wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

  After the song, she pointed to Johnny Wengerd and Jethro Glick. Their job was to turn the wooden flats that Toby’s dat had built for scenery. The flats were covered with cardboard, and Elsie and the children had decorated both sides for the Christmas program. Elsie had covered the first side with red butcher paper, and the children had painted a fireplace and hearth, complete with a roaring fire and a pile of wood. The back had been covered in midnight blue paper. They had glued cotton balls to the bottom to look like a field of snow, and each child had made a special star to hang in the paper sky. Elsie had even allowed for some glitter, even though glitter was a teacher’s worst nightmare.

  There was a collective gasp as Johnny and Jethro carefully turned the flats around to reveal the night sky full of sparkly Christmas stars. But the gasp wasn’t for the stars. Written across the entire space in sharp, garish yellow letters were the words “Miss Stutzman stinks.”

  Elsie froze in place, and she thought she might be sick. She didn’t care what names her students wanted to call her or whether one of them hated her or not, but to hurt the other children like this was more cruel than even she could have imagined. If she hadn’t already guessed who had done such a thing, Wally would have given himself away in a heartbeat. He and Reuben sat in the back row with their heads together, hands covering their mo
uths, giggling as if they’d been sucking in laughing gas at the dentist. There was a tiny drop of yellow paint on Wally’s shirt that she hadn’t noticed earlier. No wonder it had smelled strange when she came into the classroom this evening to get ready for the program. Wally must have spray painted the flats right after she’d gone home.

  By now, most of the children had looked behind them and seen what had happened to the beautiful sky and stars they had spent so many hours working on. Some of the younger children started to cry. Susie Miller screamed.

  Martha Raber hugged her little sister. “Who did that, Miss Stutzman? Who did that?”

  Almost in unison, the children turned to look at Wally. He folded his arms smugly across his chest, as if daring anyone to accuse him. It was obvious he wanted a big scene. He wanted to be known as the boy who had ruined the Christmas program, the boy who hurt so bad inside that he wanted everybody to hurt with him.

  Elsie wouldn’t stand for it.

  Sam Sensenig jumped up from his bench on the back row, no doubt to drag Wally out and give him what for. Elsie’s heart stopped. She didn’t want to be bossy, but this was an emergency, and she would not let Sam ruin everything. She pointed to the space on the bench where he’d been sitting and forced a semisweet smile onto her lips. “Please don’t trouble yourself, Sam.”

  Sam furrowed his brow and slowly sank to the bench, probably because he didn’t want to make a fuss with his brother.