The Tinderbox

by Beverly Lewis

  This made sense to Rhoda, and after accepting a second cup, she thanked Ella Mae for the delicious tea—and the heartfelt advice.

  Presently, Rhoda shifted the basket on her arm, realizing she had been smiling during her reverie. Why haven’t I visited Ella Mae more often? she wondered, already knowing the answer. Once she’d married Earnest, her life had become a happy whirl of tending the house and cooking and spending time with him. And once the babies started coming, things had gone smoothly enough that there was no need to seek counsel from the Wise Woman. Rhoda’s Mamm assisted her whenever needed, and she had no reason for solace, because her life seemed to be altogether joyful.

  Just then she spotted David Beiler’s white clapboard farmhouse and headed down the driveway. At the flower-lined walkway, she made her way around to the back of the house, where the Dawdi Haus was connected, and the small square back porch came into view. It had changed little over the years, what with fresh white paint and the same clay pots with new red geraniums each springtime. Something else was new, though—a delicate silver metal wind chime that hung on the far side, away from the door.

  The thought of Ella Mae’s delicious peppermint tea made Rhoda’s mouth water. But today the celebrated tea would not be enough to lift her spirits. Truly, even if Rhoda were visiting for her own sake rather than for her sister’s, nothing short of a miracle could solve the mess she and Earnest found themselves in. Keeping his awful secret . . .

  Rhoda knocked and Hannah came to the door, her face tear stained. She reached to hug her, then stepped past to set down the basket on the kitchen counter, pulling back the tea towel that covered the goodies. “See what I brought,” she said, mentioning that Curtis had encouraged her to drop by. “Since I missed ya back at your place.”

  Ella Mae rose from the table to peer into the basket. “I don’t know ’bout yous, but my taste buds are doin’ the two-step.”

  Hannah laughed. “Well now, how do ya know ’bout that?”

  “Don’t forget that I was young once.” Ella Mae’s smile was mischievous. “Could’ve gotten myself put off church.”

  “Truly?” Hannah said with a glance at Rhoda, who was lifting the lid from the pan of fudge.

  “Oh, let’s just say I came to my senses in the nick of time.” Ella Mae motioned them both toward the table.

  Hannah and Rhoda giggled at that.

  “Would ya like to put the goodies out so we can see what ya brought?” Ella Mae asked as she sat back down.

  Rhoda and Hannah carried over the fudge and the raisin bread and placed them in the middle of the table, alongside a sharp knife for each pan.

  After she had unwrapped the bread, Hannah pointed to the stuffed bear near the door with her things. “I’ve been carrying him around now and then, but talking regularly to Ella Mae has helped me even more. Prayer too.”

  “Oh, sister, I’m awful glad to hear that,” Rhoda said, offering her a piece of fudge.

  “I do cradle the bear sometimes, though, when I can’t sleep at night . . . and I’m up walkin’ around the house.” A tear trickled down her face, and Hannah wiped her face with a hankie. “These ain’t sad tears, in case ya wondered,” she told Rhoda.

  Ella Mae spoke up. “Tears can be mighty healing.” Her eyes were on the moist raisin bread, so Rhoda cut her a thick slice.

  “Well, it looks like I came at the right time,” Rhoda said. “Wasn’t sure if I’d be interrupting yous.”

  Hannah shook her head. “Not at all.”

  Going to the fridge, Ella Mae poured some iced peppermint tea into a tumbler for Rhoda. “Goodness, I think we might just ask a blessing for this unexpected treat.” And she did, right out loud, and Rhoda bowed her head and respected Ella Mae’s way.

  Sylvia poured her energy into uprooting the pesky little weeds in the family vegetable garden that had sprouted in just the last couple of days. She was anxious for her younger brothers to finish up their school year so they could help more in the garden, too. With five of them weeding and harvesting, Mamma wouldn’t need to tend to it. And, thinking of Mamma, Sylvia was glad to have seen her head over on foot to Hannah’s after breakfast. Maybe they’ll cheer each other up, she thought, unsure if her aunt was still ailing.

  Hoeing harder, Sylvia recalled sitting with Dat on the back porch last night, and with everything in her, she wanted to help fix whatever was happening between her parents. Though it wasn’t her place to be their peacemaker, it bothered her to sit idly by and watch them fall apart. And from the continuing silence and stiffness at breakfast, they certainly seemed to be.

  Hearing a horse and wagon pull into the lane, she looked up to see Mamie Zook’s grandson Andy, who waved as he halted the horse. “Lookin’ for my Dat?” she called to him, leaning on the hoe.

  Andy nodded, his white blond hair blowing in the wind as he removed his straw hat. “Is he around?”

  She pointed in the direction of his grandparents’ farm. “Jah, over at your Mammi Zook’s.”

  At that, Andy laughed a little. “Ya know, I had a feelin’ he might be helpin’ prepare for the auction. It’s awful hard thinkin’ of Dawdi Zook’s things bein’ sorted through already. ’Specially his lifetime farm tools.” Andy sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. “If I had a bushelful of money, I’d buy up most of it.”

  “Well, I can’t blame ya,” she was quick to say.

  “So, are you the only one home?” Andy asked, still sitting there in his wagon.

  Sylvia wondered why he was asking. “For now. I don’t mind keeping the home fires burnin’.”

  “I stopped by to look at some of your father’s chiming clocks, if he has any in his inventory.”

  “Sure, I can show ya what’s available,” she said, always happy to look after Dat’s customers, though most weren’t quite as handsome as Andy.

  With a smile, Andy hopped down from his wagon and tied the horse to the hitching post. She carried the hoe with her and propped it against a tree near the back walkway to her father’s shop.

  “You won’t say anything, will ya?” Andy said, walking with her. “It’s a surprise for my sister.” His blue eyes were questioning.

  “Oh, trust me, I can keep a secret,” she said opening the door to the showroom. “Here we are,” she said, eager to make a sale for her father. “Dat’s the best clockmaker around, as ya know. . . .”

  Rhoda, Hannah, and Ella Mae were still nibbling on treats and drinking their iced tea when Ella Mae turned her attention to Rhoda. “Are ya feelin’ all right, dear?”

  Surprised, Rhoda drew in a quick breath.

  From where she sat beside her, Hannah turned to glance at her now, too. “Ya looked a bit peaked when ya came in.” She lifted a piece of fudge out of the pan and handed it to Rhoda. “Maybe more goodies will help? That’s what you always tell me.” She smiled.

  Ella Mae was quiet now, observing.

  Rhoda peered out the window. “I wish it were that easy,” she said, reminding herself that this was Hannah and Ella Mae. Neither of them was known to gossip.

  Hannah slipped her arm around Rhoda’s shoulders. “We’re here for ya, sister. Whatever ’tis.”

  All this kindness was going to bring her raw emotions to the surface, and Rhoda couldn’t have that. “I appreciate bein’ here . . . for each other,” Rhoda managed to say, hoping for a change of topic.

  “Preacher Zook’s death has caused lots of sadness in the Hollow,” said Hannah, reaching for her teacup. “Curtis is feelin’ glum, an’ so are a lot of other folks, too.”

  “I’ll say.” Ella Mae looked longingly at the little bit of fudge left on her paper napkin. “Mahlon Zook was a true man of God, one with a servant’s heart.”

  “Curtis has been draggin’ around like one of his own kin passed on,” Hannah told them as she patted Rhoda’s arm. “So I understand, dear sister.”

  Nodding, Rhoda was thankful their conversation had redirected into safer territory. Even so, she promised herself she would be more careful in the
future. No need to stir up even a chance of tittle-tattle.

  Before they parted ways, Ella Mae looked right into Rhoda’s eyes and said softly, “Remember, we’re connected to our heavenly Father by threads of love we can’t always see.”

  Rhoda carried that wisdom in her heart as she walked toward home, thankful she’d gone to Ella Mae’s and hoping against hope that neither of them would think twice about her awkward hesitation earlier.

  CHAPTER

  Eighteen

  That evening Rhoda spent time in her room embroidering a doily while the children did their outdoor chores and Earnest worked in his shop. He’d seemed quite pleased that another chime clock had been sold, thanks to Sylvia minding the store while they were gone.

  Rhoda glanced at Earnest’s bedroom slippers on the floor, peeking out from beneath the bureau across the room, and recalled how peculiar last night had been. They had shared the bed and not even kissed each other good-night. ’Tis best, she thought, looking out the window as a group of birds flew high over the meadow. Earnest had picked up on her unspoken desire that he not embrace or touch her in any way. When she thought now of lying in his arms, or even of simply hugging him, hurtful thoughts of Earnest’s former marriage and divorce pushed into her mind.

  Rhoda shivered as a sudden gust blew in through the open windows, and she set her jaw, uncertain of her future.

  If anyone noticed Sylvia hurrying along Hickory Lane, they might have guessed she was on her way to meet a beau early that Saturday evening. As she walked, she spotted two yellow tulips gleaming against the dark tree trunk where she and Alma had planted them last fall during a Sisters Day event hosted by Mamma. All of Sylvia’s girl cousins and her mother’s sisters had come for the day, and one of the activities had been to plant tulip bulbs in a secret place, going two by two . . . a floral hide-and-seek of sorts. Mamma had joked that the best fertilizer was the planter’s shadow, so Sylvia had made sure her shadow fell on the ground every other day or so after planting the bulbs, which also gave her a chance to make sure that no critters had dug them up for a snack.

  Looking forward to seeing Titus, she wondered what he had planned tonight, since she rarely knew ahead of time. Who will we double-date with? she pondered as she watched for his father’s gray enclosed carriage to appear.

  Rhoda was content to wash and dry the supper dishes on her own, quite sure Sylvia had rushed off to meet Titus. She hoped that her daughter would be able to have fun on her date. Considering the tension in this house, Rhoda thought, going over to wipe off the green-and-white-checked oilcloth on the big table. She prayed silently that all would go well tonight with Titus . . . and continuing forward to the November wedding.

  The minute she was finished in the kitchen, Rhoda took off walking through Curtis’s field to Mamie’s with a batch of cookies she’d baked, hoping Mamie didn’t already have more food than she knew what to do with. Of course, with her granddaughter now spending the nights, Mamie might be glad for extra sweets.

  Looking back at her own house, Rhoda wondered if Earnest would feel slighted that she hadn’t said where she was going. He hadn’t done so either the last few times he’d left for errands or whatnot, so she guessed it didn’t really matter. O Lord in heaven, be ever near us and our family during this wretched time, she prayed as she hurried along.

  She glanced toward Hickory Lane just then and noticed a gray carriage stop. A young man jumped down to greet a young woman, who was hoisted up in a flash . . . and they were off.

  Must surely be Titus coming for Sylvia.

  Seeing them together, Rhoda hoped with all of her heart that her daughter’s relationship might be spared.

  “It’s wunnerbaar to be with ya again,” Titus said as he winked at Sylvia before picking up the driving lines. She was impressed to see he wore the attire normally reserved for Sundays—black broadfall trousers and black vest, his long-sleeved white shirt crisp and pressed. “I’ve sure missed ya this week, Sylvie.”

  She smiled to hear it. “I missed ya, too. Your letter was a nice surprise.”

  The horse turned the corner, and they headed up a back road. As they approached Preacher Zook’s former home, Sylvia spotted her mother walking briskly, a basket over her arm. “Looks like Mamma’s goin’ to see Mamie.”

  Titus glanced over with a nod. “No one’s friendlier than Mamie, ain’t?” he said. “And I’ve heard my Mamm say she can work rings around her daughters and granddaughters, even at her age.”

  “Seventy-six ain’t so old,” Sylvia countered. “Lots of folk round here live well into their nineties and older.”

  “True, but losin’ a spouse can take the wind out of a person.” Titus mentioned that he’d observed this happen to his own Dawdi Kauffman.

  “Jah, people in love are bonded to each other,” she said softly. Or should be . . . She sniffled a little and looked away.

  He reached for her hand. “Say there . . . are ya all right, Sylvie?”

  She wasn’t feeling so good at the moment, but she didn’t dare spoil the evening by acknowledging it. “I just don’t want anything to come between us,” she said, thinking of Dat and Mamma and whatever hardship they were going through. It was all so perplexing—and frustrating, too.

  Titus jerked his head back. “Puh! How could that ever happen to us?”

  “I don’t know.” Sometimes people fall out of love. . . .

  Titus adamantly shook his head. “Nothin’ short of death will separate us,” he assured her, squeezing her hand. “I’ll always love ya . . . be right by your side if you become sick or whatever as we grow old together. But that’s a long, long time away.”

  That wasn’t at all what she meant, but Titus’s comments were ever so dear, and she loved him all the more for them.

  Riding alongside him in his father’s gray carriage, she felt as if they were alone in the world, just the two of them, her hand in his. Is it true that we’ll never part? She tried not to think of the sadness that had so recently claimed Mamma’s face.

  They passed the pond on the far side of Zooks’ property; the way the sun shone against it, the pond looked like a mirror, glossy and bright. She pointed it out to Titus, who nodded. “I can’t wait till winter to take ya skatin’ there,” he said. “It’ll be fun playin’ crack the whip with the other Youngie.”

  “Just so I’m not at the tail end, like the time I went flyin’ and landed against the bank.”

  “When was this?” Titus asked.

  “Oh, before we were dating.”

  “Who were ya seein’ then?” he asked with a grin.

  “No one special.”

  He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

  Everyone before you is hazy, she thought fondly.

  They talked about several couples who’d just begun pairing up after Singings—couples Titus seemed to know of—and she wondered if any of them might be tonight’s mystery couple.

  “Is it a secret who’s doubling with us?” she finally asked. “Any hints?”

  His hazel eyes twinkled. “Well, let’s see . . . she’s kin to you.”

  “Could it be Cousin Alma?” Sylvia hoped her guess was right.

  Titus nodded. “You’re a gut guesser.”

  “But who’s her date?”

  “Uh, that you’ll never guess,” Titus said, keeping a straight face now.

  She wondered if word of Alma’s crush had somehow found its way to Titus’s ears. “Could it be Danny Lapp, maybe?”

  Titus turned to look at her, eyes wide. “How in the world did ya know?”

  “Well, she is my close cousin. But how’d you know Alma likes him?”

  “Her big brother thought they’d make a gut match, so I talked to Danny, and he was all for it.”

  Alma must be beside herself with happiness, thought Sylvia. “I wonder what Alma thought when Danny invited her to double with us.”

  “Can’t say.” He grinned at her. “I wasn’t there.”

  Now she was giggling. “Ach, I should
’ve known you’d say that!”

  Titus bobbed his head. “We’ll have lots of fun tonight.”

  “You can say that again.” Sylvia could hardly wait to see Cousin Alma with tall, golden-haired Danny.

  After picking up first Danny Lapp and then Alma—Alma and her date settling into the carriage’s second bench seat, behind Titus and Sylvia—Danny let it slip that they were headed to the Lapp Valley Farm in New Holland for some ice cream.

  No wonder Titus said it’ll be fun, Sylvia thought, delighted Cousin Alma was along. Sylvia could only imagine how excited Alma was, spending time with Danny, and by the perpetual smile on her face, Sylvia was certain her cousin would not forget this evening.

  When they arrived at Lapp Valley Farm Dairy and Ice Cream, there were a few buggies at the hitching posts and mostly cars in the parking lot. Titus came around to offer to help Sylvia down, while Danny did the same for Alma.

  Inside the dairy section, the familiar red benches lent a festive flair, and Titus led the way to the line-up of ice cream flavors. Both Titus and Sylvia ordered chocolate almond ice cream in a homemade waffle cone, still warm from the press. Sylvia had to smile at that, and Cousin Alma whispered and laughed, “Yous are twins.”

  Sylvia was still smiling as they all headed for the wraparound porch, where several very friendly cats were eating cat chow nearby. In the front yard, they could see a peacock spreading its feathers. “Lookee there,” Alma said, glancing at Sylvia, dark eyebrows raised.

  “Real perty, ain’t?” Titus said with a smile at Sylvia.

  Alma was quiet as she ate her butter brickle ice cream next to Sylvia while Titus and Danny sat across from them. From there, they could see the Jersey cows in the distance, and Alma commented how neat and tidy everything looked.