5
Before long, Katrina and Aunt Alma were seated on the porch with old Mrs. Miller. They worked together on shelling a basket of spring peas as they made polite conversation about the weather, inquired after Mrs. Miller’s health, and heard her sympathy for Mammi’s passing. Then the old woman set the bowl of peas on a bench and leaned forward to peer at Katrina with great interest.
“Ja, it is like I told Cooper. You are very much like your grandmother. You remind me of her when she was young. Even the way you speak is like her.”
Katrina almost mentioned the youthful image of Mammi on the record cover but stopped herself. Not only were photographs forbidden, but to reveal that Mammi had been a professional singer—well, that would be inviting trouble.
“Katrina says you have a sister who knew my mother,” Aunt Alma began.
“Ja, my sister Martha took your mamm into her home.” She explained how Martha and her family lived in another settlement about thirty miles away. “Martha was still a girl at home back then. I had gotten married and was living right here.” She smiled contentedly as she looked out on the green pastures and black-and-white cows.
“Is that the same settlement where Cooper’s Uncle Earl lives?”
Mrs. Miller’s pale eyebrows arched. “You know about Earl?”
“Only that he’s a good cabinetmaker.” Katrina felt her cheeks growing warm.
Mrs. Miller nodded. “Ja. Earl is Martha’s oldest boy. Been making cabinets for twenty years. It’s a good trade.”
“I know Cooper would like to apprentice with his uncle.”
“Ja, but that is a long way from home. Too far to travel each day. Cooper would have to live there with Earl.” She peered curiously at Katrina. “It is not easy to leave your home . . . to live in a different settlement . . . but sometimes it is necessary.”
“You did it,” Aunt Alma said.
“Ja. But it is a sacrifice to leave your parents, your sisters and brothers—to leave them all behind and start a new life.”
Katrina wasn’t sure if Mrs. Miller was trying to give her a subtle warning or simply reminiscing.
“Do you remember much about my grandmother?” Katrina asked. “About where she had come from before she lived with your sister and your family?”
“Oh, ja, sure. She came from a neighboring district.”
Katrina exchanged confused looks with her aunt.
“Are you saying she lived in a settlement?” Aunt Alma asked.
“Ja. I can’t remember which one. I think it was up near Fryburg.”
“So my grandmother was already Amish?” Katrina asked. “I thought I’d heard she was English.”
“No, no. Your grandmother grew up Amish, but she went her own way for a while. About ten years, according to what Martha told me. But I never heard a word about it from Starla’s own lips.” Mrs. Miller shook her head. “Starla and I were friendly, but she never mentioned her past to me. Not once.”
“But she grew up in an Amish home?” Aunt Alma still seemed confused. “Up near Fryburg, you say?”
“As best I can recall.”
“She never spoke of family,” Aunt Alma said quietly. “I always assumed her people were English and she’d left them behind to live here.”
“Martha might be able to tell you more about that,” Mrs. Miller said. “Although as I mentioned, she lives quite a distance away.”
They talked a while longer, but it was obvious they weren’t going to get any more information about Mammi. Besides, Katrina could tell Mrs. Miller was growing weary.
“Thank you for letting us come see you,” Katrina told her, “but I think we should return to our homes.”
“Ja.” Aunt Alma stood. “I must get dinner ready soon.”
Mrs. Miller reached out for Katrina’s hand, looking directly into her eyes. “Perhaps we should go visit my sister. I think Cooper could drive us there sometime. If I ask his father, I’m sure he will let Cooper go.”
“That’s such a long drive,” Katrina told her. “Are you certain you would want to go?”
Mrs. Miller sighed. “I do miss my sister.”
Katrina smiled as she gently squeezed Mrs. Miller’s fingers. “Then I would be glad to go.”
“I’ll talk to my son.” Mrs. Miller pushed herself up from the chair. “Cooper can let you know.” She pointed to Aunt Alma. “You might like to come along too.”
Aunt Alma nodded eagerly. “Ja, if I can get away for that long, I would.”
They said their goodbyes, and as Aunt Alma and Katrina walked back toward home, Katrina admitted how astonished she was to learn Mammi had grown up in an Amish home. “Knowing about her singing and the things in that box . . . I truly believed she was from an English family.”
“What about the young men with her?” Aunt Alma said suddenly. “Do you suppose they were Amish too?”
“They did have beards, but that would mean they were married. Why would married Amish men be out making music like that? Besides, they weren’t trimmed properly.”
“Ja, that’s true.”
“I wonder if those men are still alive.” Katrina saw the Lehmans’ house up ahead now. “Aunt Alma, do you want me to walk all the way back with you, or do you mind if I stop to see Bekka?”
“I am fine to walk by myself.” She patted Katrina’s back. “You go and visit your friend.”
“Bekka knows how to find out things. She might be able to help me find out more about Mammi.” Katrina quickly explained about how the items from Mammi’s box were being stored there. “For safekeeping.”
“Thank you.” Aunt Alma looked relieved. “I knew you would take good care of those things.”
Katrina waved goodbye, then headed over to the Lehmans’, going straight around back to where Bekka was actually working again. “I don’t want to bother you,” Katrina told her after they said their hellos.
“You’re no bother,” Bekka assured her. “I would love some company.” She held up a box of order slips. “I have all these to enter into the computer, and it gets very boring.”
“Not as much fun as playing games or watching that singing show.”
“American Star.” Bekka’s eyes lit up. “They finally picked this season’s winners—it’s always a boy and a girl. Honestly, the girl’s voice is not nearly as good as yours, Katrina.”
Katrina waved her hand as she took out the bag so she could finish going through it and sat on the stool next to Bekka. “You just say that.”
“Have you learned any more songs?”
“Sure. Lots of them.”
“Please, sing one,” she pleaded. “It will make my work go faster.”
“I wish I could hear ‘After the Wind’ a few more times. I’d sing you that one. It’s really pretty.”
“‘After the Wind’?”
“It’s on this.” Katrina held up the record. “Remember?”
“Ja—ja! That’s right.” Bekka jumped up from her chair. “I cannot believe I forgot about this.”
“What?”
“When we were in Cleveland, after the conference ended, Peter and I did some shopping in a secondhand store.” She pointed to the stool beneath Katrina. “I need that.”
Katrina watched as Bekka moved the stool next to the shelf, climbing onto it to reach up to the top shelf and retrieve what looked like a small blue suitcase. “Help me with this.” She handed the heavy case down to Katrina.
“What is in this?”
Bekka hopped down and took the case from her, set it next to her computer, and removed the lid to reveal some kind of machine.
“Is that to play records?” Katrina asked hopefully.
“Ja.” Bekka pulled a cord out, plugging it into the power strip that was connected to a large battery pack.
Katrina handed her the record, so excited her hands were trembling. “I can’t believe you did this, Bekka. Just for me?”
“I want to hear it too.” Bekka slid the record down a small metal holder, then fli
pped a switch to make it start spinning. “The woman at the store showed me how it works.”
Katrina watched with interest as Bekka moved another piece, saying it was the needle, although it looked like a stick. She set it carefully onto the outer edge of the record. There was a click-click sound but still no music. Katrina hoped it wasn’t broken. And then, just like that, a song began to play.
Katrina closed her eyes to listen, soaking in each word, each note, each sound of the guitars playing. It was all so beautiful. When the song ended, she looked at Bekka with misty eyes. “Thank you so much!” But already another song was beginning to play.
By the third song, Bekka had returned to her computer, but Katrina, mesmerized by the music, could only sit and listen. She hardly moved until the needle had traveled all the way across the record. “That was so wonderful,” she said as she moved the needle back to its resting spot. She turned the knob to Off and shook her head. “Mammi had a beautiful voice.”
“Ja, she did.” Bekka was still working at the computer. “But not as beautiful as yours.”
“Now I know you’re just saying that.” Katrina took the record off the player and was reverently slipping it back into its case when she realized it had words and the little lines on the other side as well. “Do you think the back side plays too?”
“One way to find out,” Bekka said over her shoulder.
Sure enough, the back side played too. But Katrina was getting worried over the time and knew she couldn’t listen to every song. “I wish I could hear all of it, but I have to go,” she told Bekka as she put everything away.
“I have an idea,” Bekka said suddenly. “See if you can ride to the group singing with me and Peter tonight. Then ask if you can spend the night here afterward. By the time we get home, everyone will be asleep, and we can sneak back to the office and listen to it.”
“What about Cal?” Katrina asked. “He usually drives me to the group singing.”
“Invite him to come with us.” Bekka’s eyes twinkled merrily, and Katrina just laughed. Bekka had been eyeing Cal for some time now. Of course she would want him to join them.
As it turned out, the Yoders did ride with the Lehmans, picking up Cooper along the way. Peter had been allowed to use his parents’ larger buggy, the one with a backseat where Cooper, Katrina, and Cal sat. And instead of just one horse, Peter had a pair of gleaming black Percherons pulling tonight. Katrina knew that pride was wrong, but she sensed that Peter was very well pleased with himself as he drove them through the settlement. She knew that the Lehmans’ soap and candle business was prosperous, and she suspected the buggy and horses were a result of this.
“The group singing is at the Nashes’ barn tonight,” Peter told them. “Clear on the other side of the settlement . . . so we might be late.”
“Let’s start singing now,” Bekka suggested, “to warm our voices up.”
Cal looked a bit uneasy with this idea, and Katrina suspected that he, like her, still grappled with the idea of singing for enjoyment. What if Daed found out they were singing out here on the road?
But already Bekka was starting a song and Peter and Cooper were joining in as if nothing whatsoever was wrong. Katrina gave her brother an apologetic smile, and then she began to sing as well. By the second verse, Cal was singing too. By the time they came to the end of the tune, they were all singing boisterously.
“Very good.” Bekka clapped her hands, then turned around and pointed to Katrina. “You should sing your dragon song.”
“Katrina knows a dragon song?” Cooper asked.
Before she could respond, everyone—except for Cal—was begging her to sing the dragon song. She looked at Cal, and he just shrugged.
“Come on,” Bekka urged. “It’s such a pretty song.”
So again Katrina sang “Puff, the Magic Dragon.” When she finished, they all clapped and insisted she teach it to them. By the time they reached the Nash barn, they all knew the chorus. The barn was alight with lanterns, and it sounded like there were several musical instruments playing tonight. Katrina could hardly wait to get inside. Soon they were all clapping and singing along with all their friends.
They hadn’t been there long before it was time to take a break and enjoy some refreshments. “Wait!” Cooper called out to the group. “Before you start the break, we have a song for you.” Naturally, everyone was interested, clapping and encouraging Cooper to sing. “My friends have to join me,” he said loudly. “Come on, Katrina, Bekka, Peter, and Cal. Come up here.”
Bekka grabbed Katrina by the hand, pulling her up to the front. Katrina exchanged glances with Cal, but he didn’t seem as concerned as he was earlier.
“The name of the song is ‘Puff, the Magic Dragon,’” Bekka yelled out. “Feel free to sing along if you know it.”
“Or you can just get your food if you want to,” Peter added.
“Go ahead.” Cooper nudged Katrina. “Start us out.”
Feeling nervous but excited, Katrina began to sing the chorus. It turned out that several others knew the song too. After the chorus, which her friends had learned nicely, she realized she was the only one still singing, and she nearly stopped. But Bekka kept nodding her head as if to tell her to keep going, so Katrina continued to sing all the verses, and everyone joined in on the choruses. It wasn’t until she’d finished the song—and everyone was clapping loudly—that she realized no one had gone to the refreshment table.
“That was great!” Cooper told her.
Even Cal slapped her on the back. “Well done, sis.”
During the break lots of other friends came up to compliment her or thank her for singing. Naturally, this made her feel even more self-conscious. What would her parents think? However, when it was time to return to singing, she was asked to sing them another song—simply so they could listen.
“Come on,” Cooper urged her. “Don’t keep that voice to yourself.”
The others clapped now, calling out encouragement. She went up front, and trying not to nervously twist the ends of her shawl, she told them that she liked songs that told stories. “I’m not sure, but I think this one is called ‘One Tin Soldier.’ I had to listen to it quite a few times before I understood its meaning.” It was one of the favorites of the radio station, and she’d probably heard it a dozen times by now.
The barn grew very quiet as she sang the opening words: “Listen, children, to a story . . .” She continued singing loud and clear, telling a story in song about a people who lived on a mountain and those who lived in the valley. For some reason the valley people were jealous, thinking that the mountain people had a great treasure buried up there. They insisted the mountain people should hand it over—or they would kill them. The people on the mountain offered to share their treasure, but the valley people refused. They wanted it all. So they went to war, killing all the mountain people. But when they pulled up the stone where the treasure was buried, all they found beneath it were the words “Peace on Earth.”
When she finished the song, the barn was so silent she wondered if they all hated the song and her singing. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I know that was a serious song. But it reminded me of what we believe . . . our history . . . and . . .” She looked to Bekka for some help, but then she realized Bekka was crying. In fact, a number of people had tears in their eyes.
Cooper stepped up beside her now. “That was the best song I’ve ever heard,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. They all began to clap and cheer, begging Katrina to sing another song.
Relieved that they hadn’t hated the song or her singing, she promised to sing another song after they did some more group singing. Before the night was over, Katrina wound up singing five more songs to her friends. When it was time to go, many of them begged to know if she would be back again next time. She promised she would try. But even as she promised this, she wondered, what if her parents found out?
6
“I don’t see why you worry so much about what you
r parents think,” Bekka said as they sat in the little office. They had just finished listening to the rest of the Willow Tree record, and it was well past one o’clock in the morning.
“We’re supposed to respect and obey our parents,” Katrina reminded her.
“You do respect and obey them,” Bekka told her. “More than most kids.”
“But my daed would not approve of me singing like I did tonight.” Katrina was just finishing going through the last of Mammi’s things, eager to open a sealed envelope she’d found. She hoped that it, like another envelope she’d just opened, might contain more photos of Mammi and her musical friends. She’d written “Willy and Larry and Starla” as well as the dates, all between 1962 and 1967, on the backs. When Katrina opened this envelope, she was surprised to see what looked like dollar bills. When she pulled them out, she was shocked to see that they were hundred-dollar bills. “Bekka!” she exclaimed, holding the fluttering bills in her hand. “Look at this!”
Bekka turned from her computer, where she’d been playing a game. Her eyes opened wide. “Where did you get that?”
“It was in Mammi’s things.” Katrina counted the bills. “Seven hundred dollars. Can you believe it?”
Bekka came over to watch as Katrina examined each bill carefully. “The dates are all before 1968. She must’ve put them in there when she got married.”
“And left them there this whole time?”
Katrina just nodded.
“What are you going to do with them?” Bekka asked.
“I’ll have to give them back to Daadi.” Katrina wondered how she would manage to do this without attracting attention from someone else—like Aunt Fannie.
“Why?” Bekka asked. “I thought Alma gave all this stuff to you.”
“She did, but we didn’t realize there would be money.” Perhaps Katrina could get Aunt Alma to help.
A Simple Song Page 5