Home on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Lois held both of Lily’s twins, and Dennis and Judy stood next to her surveying the damage.

  Jethro didn’t seem inclined to set her down. She didn’t mind. He nudged her forehead with his. “Are you all right? What can I do? Do you need a drink?” She could feel his heart banging against his chest and his breath escaping in ragged spurts. Was he more shaken up than she was?

  She clamped her arms more tightly around his neck. Shaken or not, he was her pillar. Strong, solid, and immovable. And safe. Forever safe. Why did she think she could live without him? Why did she think she wanted to? She was so confused she didn’t even know which way was up anymore. “What happened?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” It was plain they both needed something better to count than money. “I don’t know what I heard exactly, but I got out of my tent to investigate and your grandparents started yelling.”

  “I must have been sleeping hard. The sound of Mammi and Dawdi yelling usually wakes me up.”

  “They built the campfire too close to the canopy. It must not have been put out completely. The canopy started on fire and set your tent on fire too.”

  Mary Anne caught her breath and snapped her head around to look for Mammi and Dawdi’s makeshift bedroom. The canopy was gone. “Where are they? Are they okay?”

  “They’re okay. Judy and I pulled them out, and Aden, Dennis, and Moses put out the fire. I bought three fire extinguishers after the space heater exploded and stored them in the barn. There weren’t really any flames. It just sort of melted, like your tent.”

  She nudged herself away from Jethro, and he set her on her feet. Taking her hand, he led her to where the canopy used to be. Nothing was left but the metal poles that held it up and the charred remains of the vinyl still smoking on the ground. Miraculously, Mammi and Dawdi’s dresser, end tables, and bed sat right where they had been, seemingly untouched by the heat. The hat stand was covered with fire extinguisher foam, and it looked like a flocked Christmas tree, but other than that, it appeared Mammi and Dawdi had come out all right. Alice, in shorts and a T-shirt, was spraying the hot spots down with the hose, being careful not to get the bed wet, while Mammi and Dawdi stood to the side and stared glassy-eyed at the ashes. Mammi held Sparky in one arm and her last surviving chicken in the other. She wore a fluorescent pink knitted nightcap with her baby blue flannel nightgown. Dawdi was in his nightshirt and socks.

  Mary Anne ran around the burned edges of the canopy toward her grandparents. As best she could, she wrapped her arms around her mammi, Sparky, and the chicken. “Mammi, I’m so sorry. I should have checked the fire pit before I went to bed.”

  Mammi handed the chicken to Mary Anne. The chicken obviously knew who its mommy was, because the poor bird didn’t want anything to do with Mary Anne. She squawked and fussed until Mary Anne dropped her on the ground, and she half-ran, half-flew through the ashes and hid under the bed. Mammi rubbed Sparky’s head. “She’s so happy under there. We’re never going to get her back in that coop.”

  “Are you all right, Mammi?”

  Mammi reached up and patted Mary Anne on the cheek. “It’s a camping miracle, that’s what it is, and I should know. I’ve seen my share.”

  How many camping miracles had Mammi seen? Mary Anne had been camping for almost three months, and she’d never seen one, unless she could count finding that rock that looked exactly like Willie Jay.

  “We woke up, and the whole tent was on fire. But look. Our bed doesn’t have a speck of dust on it, and Sparky and Sharon are safe.”

  “Sharon?”

  Mammi pointed to the bed. “My chicken. It’s a sign that Gotte approves of our solidarity. As soon as the fabric stops smoking, we can go back to bed as if nothing ever happened.”

  Mary Anne was very froh to hear that Gotte approved of solidarity, but she’d feel better if her grandparents didn’t sleep out here tonight. Gotte might approve of solidarity, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get wet if it rained.

  Jethro came up behind her. He must have had the same thought. “You should sleep in the house tonight. I’d feel better if we got everything cleaned up before you got back into that bed. And you need a roof.”

  Mammi sighed as if she were trying to be very patient. “Now, Jethro. Gotte just gave me a sign that He approves of our solidarity. How ungrateful would I be if I moved back into your house?”

  “It’s just for one night, Mammi,” Mary Anne said. “And it looks to make down hard.”

  Mammi looked up at the sky. There was a little bit of a moon and a thick blanket of clouds. “Maybe rain is Gotte’s way of testing us.”

  “Jah,” Dawdi said. “He’s testing to see how smart we are, and a smart man would go in the house.”

  Mammi shrugged and smiled in surrender. “Now, Felty.” She set Sparky on the ground and held out her hand. “Jethro, would you be kind enough to get me my toothbrush? It’s in the top drawer.”

  Jethro waded through the canopy ashes and pulled a toothbrush and toothpaste from the top dresser drawer. He handed them to Mammi and picked up the dog. “I’ll carry Sparky. She likes me.”

  Moses and Lia were standing with their heads together, each holding a fire extinguisher. “Lia,” Mary Anne said, “we’re taking Mammi and Dawdi into the house to sleep.”

  Lia nodded. “We’ll make sure everything is good and doused. I’m froh you’re safe.”

  “Praise Gotte Jethro was there.”

  “Indeed,” Lia said, smiling a weary smile.

  They went in the back door and through the kitchen. It was too dark to see much, but were the chairs missing? Her exhausted mind must be playing tricks on her. They went into the bedroom, and Jethro lit both lanterns while Mary Anne turned down the covers. Mammi took one lantern to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  Dawdi sat on the end of the bed and took off his stockings. “I like this bed. It’s only ten steps to the bathroom.”

  Jethro was still breathing as if he’d run a race. “I’ll go help the others get things cleaned up out there. Will you be okay to see your grandparents to bed?”

  Dawdi gave him a wry smile. “We’re perfectly able to tuck ourselves in, thank you very much.”

  “I just meant that Mary Anne can help you find anything you need, like dental floss or toenail clippers.”

  Dawdi chuckled. “If I need to floss my teeth at midnight, I’ll know who to ask.”

  Jethro didn’t seem to find anything amusing tonight. “Jah, whatever you need, Mary Anne can help.” He reached out and took Mary Anne’s hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, his expression a mixture of fear and determination. Her heart skipped three beats. “Come find me when you’re done.”

  His measured footsteps echoed down the hall, and before Mammi had finished brushing her teeth, Mary Anne heard Jethro close the back door behind him.

  Mary Anne met Mammi in the hall when she came out of the bathroom. Mammi smiled as if she’d already had a very gute night’s sleep. “Ach, Mary Anne. There is no one who will ever love you like that boy does. What a treasure.”

  Mary Anne knew it as sure as the sun would rise in the morning. She felt his love with every breath she took. She lowered her eyes. “I know.”

  “I know he ate almost all your birthday cake and bought a four-hundred-dollar fishing pole, but there are worse things a man can do. And if he has a gute fraa to love him and teach him and stand by him even when he deserves to sleep in the barn, he’ll be a better man. Jethro loves you something wonderful. He’ll never stop trying to be a better man for you.”

  Mary Anne wrung her hands. “I’m afraid, Mammi. Things might be very gute for a while, but Jethro’s affection is bound to cool. Maybe he wasn’t ever in love with me. Maybe he just misses my kaffee or the way I do the laundry.”

  Mammi cupped Mary Anne’s chin in her hand. “Perfect love casteth out fear, Mary Anne. You can’t let fear rule your life. That’s no way to live. You have to trust somebody sometime. Like Gotte, maybe?”

  M
ary Anne hadn’t trusted Gotte for a very long time, but Mammi didn’t need any bad news to keep her awake tonight. “Maybe I’m the only one I can count on.”

  Mammi nodded with that wise look in her eyes. “You can always depend on Gotte. He’ll take care of you, but He’s not usually obvious about it.”

  “God moves in a mysterious way,” Mary Anne said, trying to appease Mammi, even though she was pretty sure Gotte didn’t notice her at all.

  “Ach,” Mammi said. “People say that because they can’t see it. His ways aren’t all that mysterious if you’re looking for them. He was obvious tonight when He saved our bed and our dresser, but usually Gotte works when we’re not paying attention. Think about how you and Jethro got together. You met at a wedding in Ohio. Jethro had never gone to Ohio, but Gotte got him there so you could meet. What about when you lost the baby? An Englischer with a car just happened to be at your house so she could drive you to the hospital. And Gotte saved your life that day. I’ll never forget how we prayed. Miracles haven’t stopped. We just don’t look for them anymore.”

  “But I’ve asked Gotte again and again for a baby, and He doesn’t care.”

  “Oh, my dear, Gotte hears our prayers, but He answers them in His way and His time. He’s not our personal wish granter.”

  Mary Anne had never looked at it that way. Did she think she was entitled to anything she asked for? Vell, what about all those other women who had babies whenever they wanted?

  Mammi leaned closer. “I may be old, but I have a gute enough memory to know how babies are made, and you won’t ever get a baby while you and Jethro are sleeping in separate tents. Gotte is a Gotte of miracles, but He’s not likely to help if you and Jethro don’t do your part.”

  Mary Anne ignored the heat that traveled up her neck. Sometimes Mammi said the most outrageous things—true, but outrageous. “That still doesn’t solve the problem of Jethro. If I moved back in with him, how do I know he won’t lose interest again?”

  Mammi nodded. “Ach, people will let you down. It might even be Jethro who does it. But you can’t stop loving him just because you’re afraid he’ll disappoint you. You forgive, you work it out, and you pull each other along. Sometimes you’ll have to carry Jethro, and other times he’ll have to carry you.”

  “I was doing all the carrying.” Mary Anne slumped her shoulders. “And I was so tired.”

  Mammi patted Mary Anne’s arm. “Of course you were. Moving out was a wonderful gute idea.”

  “You think it was?”

  “Jethro’s problem was that he got stuck and you got stuck, and you had to do something dire to make him see it. If anybody knows how to be brave, it’s you. You moved out because you wanted a better life. Maybe you’ve found it again, right where you left it.”

  Her heart swelled until she almost couldn’t breathe. Was that what her journey had been about—three months of camping only to find what she’d been looking for just inside these walls? “I . . . I don’t know,” she said.

  Mammi gave Mary Anne a swift kiss on the cheek. “Ach, Mary Anne, you’re one of my favorite granddaughters, but it wonders me when you’re going to stop punishing Jethro for his mistakes.”

  It was a horrible thing to say, but Mammi said it with a grandmotherly smile, so Mary Anne tried not to take offense. Punish Jethro? She’d never wanted to punish him. She had simply wanted to live her life her own way, without Jethro telling her what she could and couldn’t do. She had been so angry at him for not caring, for being so unfeeling and taking her for granted, for not loving her the way she deserved to be loved. So angry and so hurt.

  Ach.

  Her cheeks suddenly got hot, as if she was still in that tent with her face to the burning bookshelf. At the time she never would have admitted to such resentment, but buried deep inside her had been the desire to see Jethro suffer, to make him sorry for what he’d done to her.

  And he had suffered. The most terrible thing an Amish fraa could do to her husband was to move out. It embarrassed him in the gmayna and made him a laughingstock among the men. They no doubt questioned his righteousness and gossiped about him as if he were a sinner himself. She had known what would happen, and she secretly had rejoiced when it did.

  This terrible truth about herself nearly knocked her over, and she reached out to the wall for support. Hopefully, Mammi didn’t notice. “Do you need anything else, Mammi?” she said, trying to appear undisturbed at what she had just discovered about herself.

  “Do you have an extra pillow for my feet?” Dawdi called from the bedroom.

  Mary Anne pushed herself from the wall, glad for a reason to turn away from her mammi’s searching eye. “There’s one in here.” She turned the knob on the spare bedroom door, but it wouldn’t budge. Had Jethro put a lock on this door too? Was he trying to keep her from stealing more furniture? That couldn’t be it. Even though she hadn’t set foot in here for weeks, Jethro had told her she was welcome to get anything she wanted from the house.

  “Is it stuck?” Mammi said.

  Mary Anne jiggled the knob again. It was definitely new and there was definitely a lock on the other side. “Maybe somebody locked it accidentally.”

  Mammi yawned. “Felty will be all right without an extra pillow this once.”

  “Nae, I won’t.”

  Mary Anne’s curiosity got the better of her. She had to open the door just to discover why Jethro had locked it. “Let me see if I can open it.”

  “Ach, vell. I’m going to lie down before I fall over. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  Mary Anne took Mammi’s lantern and went to the kitchen to search the cupboards. Many of her pots and pans and pitchers and spoons had been taken outside. Except for her stoneware, her cupboards were mostly bare. But there was a small box of toothpicks on the top shelf. She got a toothpick out of the box and took it down the hall to the spare bedroom. She didn’t often have cause to pick a lock, but when she was growing up, her mamm had a small room off the kitchen where she kept all the goodies. She locked it every night, but Mary Anne and Mandy had figured out how to open it with a bobby pin.

  After setting the lantern on the floor, Mary Anne inserted the toothpick into the hole and felt around for the little mechanism that would unlock the door. She heard a satisfying click, and the door popped open. Raising the lantern, she shined it into the spare bedroom where Jethro kept his fishing pole. She took a tentative step into the room and gasped.

  Eight white chairs surrounded the bed, each with a different scene painted on the seat. She didn’t need to look closely to know exactly what was on each chair. She had painted them herself and sold them on Etsy for fifty dollars apiece. The bench Jethro had repaired and sanded sat below the window where the curtains were drawn so no one would be able to look in and spy what was in this room.

  Mary Anne moved a chair aside and stepped closer to the bed. Folded neatly on top of the bedspread was a beautiful nine-hundred-dollar quilt with appliquéd butterflies rising into a white sky. Even by the light of the lantern, it was breathtaking.

  Unable to support her own weight, Mary Anne sat down in one of her chairs—one of her own kitchen chairs—and stared numbly at the expensive quilt sitting on the bed where Jethro’s fishing pole used to be. She thought she might burst with pride and love, shame and confusion.

  What had he done, and why had he done it?

  Mary Anne knew the answer even though her mind almost couldn’t comprehend it. Jethro had sacrificed the kitchen chairs for her painting projects. He’d fixed and sanded a bench he already owned so he could buy it back from her. He’d special-ordered a quilt because he knew how much joy she’d get from sewing butterflies on it. All this time she’d been telling herself that Jethro didn’t deserve her, but now she knew the truth. She didn’t deserve him, even if she lived to be a thousand years old.

  She hung her head, buried her face in her hands, and wept.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jethro closed the door behind him an
d looked into the woods without really seeing. Moses and Lia and Alice and some of the others were still cleaning up from the fire, but he barely paid them any heed as he stumbled in the darkness and felt his way around the side of the house where no one would notice him.

  With his back to the wall, he doubled over and squeezed his eyes closed, burying his face in his hands as if he could shut out the world if he just pressed hard enough. His hands trembled, and he balled them into fists. It didn’t do any good. Every muscle in his body was taut with energy. With every breath, he felt like he might disintegrate into a pile of sand.

  He trembled as the memories washed over him. He’d almost lost Mary Anne once before, and every one of those terrifying emotions came rushing back to him. He had just helped Anna up from her bed and out and away from the burning canopy when he noticed Mary Anne’s tent was on fire too. The panic had gripped him so tightly, he nearly lost the ability to move. But move he did, almost knocking Moses over in his desperation to get to Mary Anne in time. He hadn’t cared about anything but saving his fraa, getting out of that fire, and holding her in his arms.

  How could he bear to let her go? How could he possibly hope to survive her leaving him?

  Jethro scrubbed a shaking hand down the side of his face. He’d have to find a way, because he couldn’t stand the thought of Mary Anne camping in the woods for one more day. It wasn’t safe. She had nearly caught fire and barely missed being run over by a runaway motor home. It was only a matter of time before she caught pneumonia or was attacked by a bear. He shuddered at the thought.

  No matter how desperately he wanted to keep her close or how devastated he’d be by her leaving, he needed to get her out of the woods, and she needed to go now. He’d have all the arrangements made by morning, and Mary Anne could be somewhere safe by tomorrow night.

  The despair weighed so heavily on him that he could barely put one foot in front of the other. Still, he hiked across the back lawn and into the woods, where he draped a tarp over the hole in her tent. It could all be sorted out in the morning.