Home on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  He scrunched his lips together. “Nah. Mamm’s got Dat to keep her warm.”

  The space heater was definitely warming up. A low, hissing sound from the bottom of the machine got louder and higher the longer they stood there. Jethro held out his hand to test the airflow. “It’s coming out harder now.”

  “Very nice,” Mary Anne said, loud enough so Jethro could hear her over the screeching noise coming from the space heater. She wouldn’t be able to sleep with all this racket. Being warm enough was one thing; being deaf was quite another. Did Jethro have earplugs in his tackle box?

  A loud pop from inside the space heater made them both jump. “What was that?” Jethro bent over to get a better look at the machine. He went to touch it, and a tiny spark jumped from the grill to his finger. He snatched his finger away and shook it vigorously. “Ach du lieva!”

  Mary Anne gasped as a tendril of smoke curled up from the space heater. “Is it supposed to do that?”

  Her question was answered when they heard another pop and the space heater burst into flame. Mary Anne squeaked in alarm. Jethro jumped back so fast, he fell backward onto Mary Anne’s cot. The force of his fall and the awkward angle at which he hit the cot caused the whole thing to collapse.

  Thick black smoke started pouring from the space heater along with the flames. Her Ritz Cracker mobile was going to catch fire if she didn’t do something, and then the whole tent might go up in flames. “Put it out. Put it out,” Mary Anne yelled, with no idea how to do it. She’d burn herself if she touched it.

  Jethro quickly fought his way out of the tangle of Mary Anne’s sleeping bag and got to his feet. “We need to get it out of here.” He grabbed the long-handled potato masher from the shelf. “Open the flap!”

  Coughing and gagging at the smoke, Mary Anne quickly unzipped the tent door and held it open for him. Jethro took aim, swung the masher like a bat, and whacked at the blazing space heater. He’d always been a gute athlete. The space heater flew out the door as if it had wings, bounced just outside the tent, and rolled for another ten feet on the ground lightly dusted with snow.

  The trip hadn’t managed to put out the fire. They followed the space heater out of the tent. “I’ll get the hose,” Mary Anne said.

  Jethro held up his hand to stop her. “Nae. If it’s an electric fire, you’ll get zapped.”

  “Is it an electric fire?”

  “I have no idea.” Jethro decided to deal with it like any cook worth his salt would do. He raised the potato masher over his head and brought it down on the space heater with a heavy blow. Again and again, he struck the heater until he’d reduced it to a pile of smoking rubble. He’d managed to put the fire out, but there was no hope for the space heater. It was nothing but a pile of scraps.

  The potato masher, on the other hand, had done Mary Anne proud. It was made of thick stainless steel with an extra-long handle for reaching into big pans. She had bought it right before they were married for “all those times when we have family over and I need to mash a lot of potatoes.” Jethro had laughed and told her they’d never need to mash that many potatoes, but she’d tied a ribbon around it and given it to him as an early wedding present. He hadn’t been so stingy back then.

  “What’s going on?” Emma said, drying the last of the dishes. “Did something catch fire?”

  “All is well,” Mary Anne said, giving Emma a reassuring smile. Emma was a little accident-prone. She was extra-cautious around fire.

  With the masher securely in his fist, Jethro raised his hands over his head in a victory sign. His hat had fallen off somewhere back in the tent, and his dark hair stood out in unruly tufts all over his head.

  Mary Anne laughed at the look of pure exultation on his face. “Congratulations. You killed it.”

  He pumped his fists in the air again. “I killed it.”

  She couldn’t resist teasing him. “And you thought we’d never have use for that masher.”

  He studied the masher in his hand, as if checking for injuries. “I take back all the bad things I ever said about it.” He nudged the remains of the space heater with his toe. “Do you think I can get my money back?”

  “Did you keep your receipt?”

  Their eyes met, and they laughed in relief and maybe a little bit of shock. She loved Jethro’s laugh when he wasn’t trying to force it. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I smell like smoke and so does the tent.”

  “Ach, vell, we all smell like smoke, and you know a tent has gotten some gute use if it stinks inside. Painted butterflies are even better.”

  She smiled at him, not even trying to guess if he was sincere about the butterflies. It was a nice moment. She wouldn’t let her suspicions ruin it.

  He touched his hand to his head. “What happened to my hat?”

  “I think you lost it when you did a somersault over my cot.”

  She followed him back into the tent. The air was smoky, but with the flap open, it was quickly clearing out. The small bench had a three-inch scorch on the seat, but other than that, it had come through the disaster all right. Her cot was tipped on its side, and the sleeping bag and blanket were in a heap on the floor. “Oy, anyhow,” Jethro said. “I made a mess.”

  They both heard the honk. Jethro glanced at Mary Anne. “Oh, sis yuscht. It’s the van. I have to go.”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t take but a minute to put back together.” She eyed him and scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “You might want to comb your hair before you go.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and pulled a comb out of his pocket. “A comb is a wonderful exciting thing to keep in your pocket.” He grinned and winked at her, and she didn’t even try to ignore the butterflies that took wing in her stomach. He combed through his hair and smoothed it with his hand. “Okay?”

  She made a face, as if she was less than enthusiastic about his combing job. “Eh. Keep your hat on.”

  He chuckled while he searched through the rubble to find his hat. “Gute suggestion.”

  The van honked again. Jethro tapped his hat onto his head and gave her a serious look, as if he wanted to say something important or big or . . . mushy. She quickly pushed open the flap and stepped out of the tent. It was too stuffy in there.

  He followed her out. “Good-bye, Mary Anne. I hope you have a gute day at the senior center. Will you tell the RV man denki for letting Anna and Felty use the RV?”

  She nodded. “Dawdi was even singing this morning.”

  “Jah. I heard.”

  She grabbed his arm and stopped him before he walked away. “Denki for the space heater. It was wonderful thoughtful of you.”

  His smile was warmer than a space heater on fire.

  * * *

  It was a strange dream. Mary Anne couldn’t see anything, but someone was eating breakfast—cornflakes, it sounded like—and he was chewing very loudly, right next to her ear. Didn’t he have any consideration for people who were trying to sleep? She rolled over, only to get slightly tangled in her sleeping bag, but the chewing didn’t stop.

  She opened her eyes to the soft light of the moon filtering through her tent window. Jethro had brought her another space heater two days ago, but she hadn’t used it once, and not because she was afraid she’d catch fire in her sleep. May was finally behaving like spring, and the weather the last few nights had been perfect for sleeping. The tent wasn’t perfect for sleeping and the cot wasn’t perfect for sleeping, but the weather was definitely ideal.

  Mary Anne closed her eyes. It was just a dream. She rolled to her other side to untwist her sleeping bag.

  It had been just a dream, except she knew she was awake and she still heard the chewing. Her heart leaped into her throat. Was there a bear out there looking for a snack? Nae, it didn’t exactly sound like a bear. It sounded more like the steady chomping of a beaver.

  She sat up and reached for her shawl. Might as well investigate. She wouldn’t be able to sleep until she found the source of the noise. If it was
a bear, she could probably scream loudly enough to wake the dogs. Pilot was big enough to scare a bear away, but maybe not before the bear had taken a big chunk out of Mary Anne’s leg.

  Clutching the shawl to her chest as if it would give her some protection, she unzipped her tent and stepped outside. She squinted into the darkness. The sound was coming from the direction of Mammi and Dawdi’s RV. Mary Anne caught her breath as she realized the sound was tire on gravel—as in the tires of the RV crunching along the tiny pebbles that covered the driveway. Bob Hennig’s RV slowly, ever so slowly, rolled down the gravel path that ran from Jethro’s barn to the road. It was nearly three hundred yards from the barn to the road, but the path ran on a slight downward slope, and the RV was picking up momentum. Blissfully unaware, in untroubled slumber, Mammi and Dawdi were headed straight for the road and the gulley on the other side.

  Mary Anne dropped her shawl and ran as fast as her legs would take her. She stumbled as she stubbed her toe on something hard and sharp, but she barely felt the pain. She had to save Mammi and Dawdi. Reaching the RV, she tried to open the side door, but it was either locked or stuck. In hopes of waking someone inside, she slapped her hand several times against the wall of the RV. Did either of her grandparents know how to stop a moving vehicle? RVs had brakes like buggies, didn’t they?

  Mary Anne didn’t even have to walk particularly fast to keep up with the rolling RV, but it wouldn’t take long for it to reach the road, and it didn’t sound like she’d managed to wake anyone inside.

  She raced for the driver’s side door, caught her foot on a rock, and fell flat on her face. She gasped as a pair of strong arms grabbed her around the waist and wrenched her back and away from the tire that would have rolled over her leg. She didn’t have to say a word. Jethro had already released her and was reaching for the door to the cab.

  “Ach du lieva, Felty! We’re moving.” Mammi had finally woken up, and Mary Anne could hear her squealing through the open window. “We’re being kidnapped!”

  “Mammi,” Mary Anne called, “can you go to the front of the RV by the steering wheel and press on the brake?” There was too much commotion going on in there. Mammi didn’t hear a thing Mary Anne said.

  Thank the gute Lord the cab wasn’t locked. Jethro opened the door and, in one fluid motion, jumped inside and grabbed the steering wheel. Jethro had never driven a car, but he must have known something about them. He immediately pressed on one of the pedals, and the RV came to a shuddering halt.

  His ragged breathing matched her own as their eyes met in shocked silence. If Jethro hadn’t been there, it could have been a terrible disaster.

  The ruckus inside the RV made up for the deathly stillness outside. “Felty, go up there and find out who kidnapped us.”

  “I think it was our imagination, Banannie. We’re not moving.”

  Mary Anne knocked on the side door. “Mammi, Dawdi, are you okay?”

  She heard some shuffling, and the RV rocked from side to side like a boat on calm waters. After a few tries at the doorknob from the inside, Dawdi finally opened the door and stuck his head out. Strands of gray beard stuck out from his face like the branches of a creeping juniper bush, and his eyes were glazed over, like someone who’d been rudely awakened in the middle of the night. “Why, hallo, Mary Anne. Do you need to borrow a cup of sugar?”

  Jethro climbed out of the cab and sidled close to Mary Anne. His breathing came fast and hard, and his hands trembled so violently, he folded his arms.

  Mammi, with her hair covered in a pink knitted nightcap, nudged Dawdi aside, stepped down from the RV, and pulled Mary Anne in for a stiff hug. “You saved us from the kidnappers.”

  “Nae, Mammi. There weren’t any kidnappers.”

  Mammi tugged herself out of Mary Anne’s embrace and studied her face in confusion. “There weren’t? Was someone trying to steal our RV?”

  “I woke up and saw your RV rolling down the lane.”

  Dawdi’s expression matched Mammi’s. “By itself?”

  “I don’t know,” Jethro said, his voice as shaky as his hands. “Maybe one of you accidentally put it into gear or released the emergency brake before you went to bed. A slight movement could have started it rolling.”

  Mammi clapped her hand over her mouth. “Last night we sat in the two seats up front because we wanted to know what it might feel like to drive the thing. We let temptation get the better of us, Felty.”

  “It’s okay, Banannie. I don’t think Gotte was mad.”

  “Of course He was,” Mammi said. “He tried to kill us.”

  Mary Anne pulled her mammi in for another hug. “Gotte doesn’t work that way, Mammi. He loves us. He’s not out for revenge.”

  “Of course you’re right,” Mammi said. “I know that better than anyone. Still, I think I’d better go repent right quick, just in case.”

  Mary Anne kissed her mammi on the cheek. “All is well. Jethro stopped it before it went into the road.”

  Dawdi nodded his approval. “Jethro is very strong.”

  Jethro let out a shaky chuckle. “I hopped in the cab and hit the brake, that’s all.”

  Mammi patted Jethro’s arm. “Ach, Jethro, I’ve always thought you were a little thick, but you’re also very brave. We could have died.”

  They paused to eye the RV and where it had ended up. It wasn’t more than ten feet from the road. A shudder tripped down Mary Anne’s spine. If Jethro hadn’t been there...

  Jethro tapped the side of the RV. “I set the emergency brake. As long as you don’t touch anything near the steering wheel, it shouldn’t roll again. We’ll move it back closer to the barn in the morning. You’re far enough from the road tonight.”

  Mammi’s lower lip trembled ominously. “What are you saying, Jethro?”

  Jethro obviously didn’t recognize Mammi’s distress. “You’re far enough from the road tonight. You’ll be fine to sleep right here.”

  “Ach, Jethro dear, I’ll freely admit that you’re brave and kind and quite handsome, but you’re still thicker than a slab of bacon. You must know I’m never sleeping in that thing again. When the gute Lord takes me to heaven, it won’t be in an RV.”

  “But, Banannie, what about your sciatica?” Dawdi said weakly. It was obvious he didn’t want to give up his comfortable bed, but he must have recognized it was a lost cause.

  “Now, Felty, you know very well I don’t have sciatica. I’ve never even had the measles, and I won’t get a wink of sleep in that thing ever again.” She pointed to the RV as if it was the cause of all her troubles. “We’re moving back into a tent.”

  Mary Anne knew better than to try to talk Mammi into anything. She was more stubborn than Mary Anne.

  “Why don’t you sleep in the house for the rest of the night?” Jethro said. “We can set up another tent for you in the morning.”

  Dawdi perked up at bit—at least as much as could be expected in the middle of the night. “There’s nothing else for it, Annie. We’ll have to take Jethro’s bed for the night.”

  Deep furrows lined the part of Mammi’s forehead that wasn’t hidden by her floppy pink nightcap. “Ach, Mary Anne. What should we do?”

  “Sleep in the house, Mammi. It won’t roll away.”

  Mammi wrung her hands in unnecessary distress. “I don’t want you to think for one minute that I’m not committed to solidarity, but it’s either the house or the cold, hard ground, and I think for Felty’s sake, we’d better choose the house.” She leaned in and whispered in Mary Anne’s ear, “He doesn’t have the stamina I do, and it smells like rain.”

  Mary Anne linked elbows with Mammi. “Cum. You’ve had quite a scare. You should be in a nice, warm bed, and I still count this as solidarity. I know you’ll never fail me, Mammi.”

  Mammi seemed satisfied. “Okay, but I’ll do my best to toss and turn all night and be miserable so you don’t feel abandoned.”

  Mary Anne grinned. “Denki. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “Do you
need anything from the RV before we go in?” Jethro said.

  Mammi formed her lips into an O. “Would you mind getting my toothbrush? It’s on the cupboard in that tiny bathroom. I can’t go back to sleep unless I brush my teeth.”

  Jethro climbed into the RV and soon returned with two toothbrushes, a tube of toothpaste, and Sparky, who was nipping at his heels, probably annoyed at being awakened in the middle of the night.

  “Ach du lieva,” Mammi said. “In all the excitement I forgot Sparky.” She bent over, picked Sparky up, and cradled her in her arms like a buplie. “Were you scared? I thought we were being kidnapped.”

  They slowly made their way to the house, which was a lot closer to the RV since the RV had rolled so far. Mary Anne and Mammi led the way, and Dawdi and Jethro followed close behind.

  Mary Anne winced every time she put weight on her left leg. She’d fallen hard back there, and she’d stubbed her toe before that. As soon as she remembered the toe, it started to sting something wonderful. She stole a glance at her foot. Ach du lieva. She couldn’t see her toe for the blood. She’d be limping for days.

  Mary Anne opened the back door, and she and Mammi walked into the kitchen. Jethro had left everything tidy, as he usually did. She had always been grateful she hadn’t married a slob. Mary Anne sighed. She loved this house, but she wouldn’t be living here ever again. What did it matter how clean Jethro kept it?

  Jethro and Mary Anne got Mammi and Dawdi settled in, which mostly consisted of Jethro putting out clean towels while Mammi brushed her teeth. When Mammi’s teeth were clean, Mammi and Dawdi shuffled into Jethro and Mary Anne’s bedroom, obviously exhausted from their ordeal, and shut the door behind them.

  Mary Anne gave Jethro a weary smile. “Denki for taking care of my grandparents again.”

  Jethro looked even more worn out than she felt. “I thank the gute Lord I couldn’t sleep. I confess I was strolling around your camp, wanting to make sure the space heater was working properly.”