“What’s wrong, Dee?” He didn’t try to get fresh with me like he would’ve in the past when we was alone but sets down a grocery bag and then just holds me tightly.
“I was so worried.” I sniffed a little and realized I had a few tears rolling down my face.
“You don’t need to worry, Dee. I’m careful and this ain’t Montgomery.”
We let go of each other but stood close.
“What about Mr. Coleman’s daughter and the Carter boy? You saw how mad Mr. Coleman and Butch were. What’s going to happen? And Kenny.” I made my voice real quiet. “He’s in the basement. Why did you tell him he could come here?”
He pressed his finger to his lips, then kissed me before he went down to the basement. He came back up a few minutes later and promised me Kenny’d be gone by morning.
“He’ll have to figure this out with his parents. It’ll give the local authorities some time to cool down.” Then he showed me the groceries he had picked up for us and Granny, since we had to leave in a hurry. He’d gathered up what we might need.
He done good. I told him so with a smile, and then I started to cry.
“Hey, hey, hey, Dee?” He came to stand next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m all right, see?”
“It ain’t that, Mal. It’s this. It’s us. It’s like old times.”
He tried to tell me that it was okay and it was good. And I knew he was right. It was the best evening we’d had since Carver, and while it felt good, I also felt like vomiting all at once. What would happen if anyone found out that Kenny was in our basement? I thought of his mother when I made him a plate of food and Malachi took it down to him. He needed to be fed. I wouldn’t be able to look Marlene in the face if I didn’t feed her son.
I was relieved when I woke and he was gone. The whole night before I’d dreamt of him but then he turned into Carver. I tried so hard to see his little face, but it was like I was looking through water. I tried to wipe it all away but it didn’t change. I could just hear a giggle that sounded so close, but I couldn’t get to him.
SPARROW
I didn’t tell nobody that I dreamed of Carver—but he was dead in every one of them. I didn’t tell Emma, even though I saw her a few times every week. I didn’t know why she liked me. I didn’t tell Johnny neither, even though we were still meeting at daybreak on Sundays. I didn’t know why he showed up every time. There were six tally marks on the birch tree. Every time I went out there I expected to sit there alone. But he came every time.
“I brought some salve,” he said this week after he put his hat on my head. Something he’d started doing a few weeks ago. He handed me a small circular tin.
“What is that?”
“It’ll help with the blisters.” He sat down close to me.
I was ashamed of myself. Every Sunday morning he would ask and I couldn’t lie to him. But I couldn’t stop with the nettles neither. Then he’d want to see the blisters. His eyes would be sad and he’d ask me again to stop hurting myself. But I couldn’t stop.
I put some of the salve on the outside of my left thigh without lifting up my skirt too high. It was from late the night before because George had started crying at bedtime, calling out for Carver. Then he ran to Mama’s room and wanted to see her bag. We all knew it had Carver’s dirt in it. George took handfuls of the dirt and threw it everywhere. Mama closed the purse before he got too far.
While Mama and Daddy dealt with George, I ran outside. Didn’t take much to find nettles. I’d already made sure that everything around the house was pulled because I didn’t want the little kids getting stung. So I went toward the woods and started pulling up patches.
“Did you hear about what happened in town?” Johnny’s voice was soft and brought me back.
“You mean Kenny Carter?” It was July now and the whole Kenny situation wasn’t much better.
“I don’t know his name. Just know that a couple of fellas found him and beat him up.”
He was beat up, all right. After a few days they stopped looking for him and then things cooled off after a few weeks. But somebody saw him sneaking around town one night and he got jumped.
“The Carters come to our church.”
“He’s not in jail, at least.”
“Well, he didn’t do nothing against the law. But Mama said he probably should’ve left town. Might make it better for the rest of us.”
“What’s he going to do now? I heard they’ll arrest him if they find him around town.”
“For what?”
He shrugged.
“I think he’s going south to family.”
He nodded and we were both quiet.
“I wouldn’t have beat him up.”
I looked Johnny right in the eyes, trying to untangle his words.
“I just wanted you to know I wouldn’t have hurt him.”
We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few hefty moments as his words hung there in the air between us like ornaments on a Christmas tree. If we was found together I figured I’d be the one in trouble, not him.
He finally said something. “Have you ever gone dancing?”
“Dancing?” I was confused.
“We’re not allowed to dance but I’ve always wanted to.”
I took his hat off and put it on the ground, then stood. “Come on.”
When I put my arms out, he stood and took my waist and my hand and didn’t hesitate none neither.
“I never went to a real dance, but Daddy used to dance with me now and then before—” I swallowed back the rest of my words and I started moving how Daddy used to, even though I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t care, and by the smile on his face, Johnny seemed to enjoy our dancing.
His hand was so warm on my hip, and our swaying back and forth was nothing special except that we was together. I didn’t know when it happened, but our swaying got slower and we were much closer than Daddy and I danced. He’d dropped my hand so both of his hands were around my waist now.
“I can’t stay long. Church is at our house today so I have to help set up.” We were so close I could feel his breath on me.
“What do that mean? Your daddy preaching?”
He released a guttural laugh at the same time he said, “No. My dad doesn’t preach. It just means that church is held at our house. Our whole district will come for church and lunch and then the Singing tonight.”
“Singing?”
He looked away with a shy smile and I didn’t know why—but he was still holding me close and we were still swaying just a little.
“It’s for the young people. Like us. The girls and boys my age get together. We sing. Play some games. Eat pie.”
I understood—it was dating for the Amish.
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want him to sing, play, and eat pie with some white Amish girl. I cleared my throat. “Kind of like a date at church?”
He had that shy smile again and laughed it off. “I better go,” he said but didn’t take his hands off of me. “I wish you could come.”
“Me too.” I had what felt like a dopey smile on my face.
“See ya later, alligator.” He still held me.
My smile grew. He knew the song too and it made me giggle.
“After ’while, crocodile,” I said back in the tune of the song and it made us bounce to the beat a little.
He smiled and looked at me for a long moment. “You’re the prettiest girl I know, Sparrow.” His words were raspy and my heart flopped around like a fish. He squeezed my waist and it made me wiggle and I missed his warmth when he stepped away. He bent down to pick up his hat and put it on his head, then turned to go home.
“Johnny?”
He turned and walked backward, waiting for my words.
“I’m gonna try to stop for you.” I held up the salve, but I was sure he knew what I meant without that gesture.
He smiled and tipped his hat at me, then turned and jogged off. I didn’t walk away until I c
ouldn’t see him anymore.
Hours later I went back in the woods. I had done my best to be as invisible as possible during church. All everybody talked about was Kenny Carter having to leave town. Lots of people was crying over it. Daddy preached how David had to flee Saul’s kingdom but how he was still protected and chosen by God. Kenny’s mama and sister cried the whole service. I almost felt bad for Belinda, even though she’d been so mean that first Sunday and never talked to me after that. I thought about smiling at her, but when our eyes met she clenched her jaw and looked away. I didn’t try again.
During lunch I had stayed out of Mama’s hair and washed the dishes without sticking my head in the water. I just didn’t want to get any attention today because I wanted to slip away later. I wanted to see what an Amish Singing looked like from the woods.
Right now I was on the other side of Johnny’s pond. The windows of their house were open and I could hear them singing. Similar to our singing, one person led into the song with a few words before everyone joined in. But the speed of the song was different. Their singing was slow and sounded a little sad. They held their notes for a long time and their voices were loud and strong. There were a whole bunch of voices, but it all sounded like one big voice.
I listened to a few songs and then I heard the sound of scraping and footsteps. They came out to the porch. A line of boys, then a line of girls. They were all about my age. I couldn’t hear everything that was being said, and even if I could, I didn’t think they’d be talking in English. Everyone was paired up and in a long line. They had their arms around one another. Some were closer than others. The long column of people came my way so I hid a little deeper. It wasn’t very dark yet, being just after eight, so I had to be careful. Before the group was very close they made a turn and passed in front of the pond.
In the fading light I saw him. Johnny. He was near the front of the line. As they snaked around the yard, he tapped the shoulder of the boy in front of him and all the boys advanced forward by one girl. The boy at the front of the line went to the back. Johnny did this again until he was the one forced to the very back of the line.
When he paired with the girl in the back, he held her closer than he had the other girls. He walked slower. He didn’t keep up with the rest of the long row of couples. He didn’t tap the shoulder ahead of him, and when someone else did, he and the girl he was with were so far behind, they didn’t change partners.
When they came around again in a wide circle, he moved closer to the pond. The sun was setting and everything was blue and purple. They were whispering. I heard her giggle. She had brightorangey hair. I imagined she had freckles. What was her name? Probably something nice and normal instead of a dang bird.
Johnny had lied to me. I wasn’t the prettiest girl he knew. This girl was.
I didn’t want to burn my skin with the nettles though. I wanted—needed—more. I knew where I could go and I wouldn’t even have to leave the woods. As soon as I could move from my spot without being noticed, I did.
There was just enough light that when I came to Johnny’s clearing where he and his friends would smoke, drink, and look at naughty pictures, I saw the glint of a tawny-brown broken glass. My relief. My salvation.
EMMA
The cicadas’ song mixed with the voices of my community at the Singing. It had been a long day—which was typical when hosting church. The excitement of that first time was, however, significant for an Amish couple, suggestive of their maturity and sensibilities. Our first turn came even before we had Johnny.
And now I watched the young couples walk about the yard, pulling one another close. Johnny was well liked and favored among the young people. I fought pride in knowing that many girls found him handsome. He was so like his dat at sixteen when I’d fallen in love with him. I was fourteen and had to watch him from a distance, however. How I wanted to play Walk-a-Mile with the young folks and have him tap enough shoulders to get to me.
Johnny did just that as he made efforts to get to Dinah. The bright, shining daughter of the new Lancaster preacher with a name those native to the valley considered fancy. She still wore her Lancaster heart-shaped kapp and attracted many young boys, but she preferred Johnny. She was pretty. Her eyes were almost lost in her smiles and she was covered in freckles. No one looked like her.
I watched as Johnny and Dinah’s walking slowed and soon they were far behind the rest of the group. Johnny had done this on purpose. I knew this because it was an old trick—one and the same John used when I started to attend Singings.
Then I saw movement from the woods. From my porch view, as the sun was starting to set, it looked like a girl running through the woods. Sparrow. I knew I shouldn’t go. But I knew I would.
I returned to the kitchen. A few older couples sat in the living room with John. They were talking about what had happened to the young Negro man and the grocer’s daughter. A situation we’d kept our ears open to for several weeks. We didn’t get involved in town matters, but it seemed everyone had an opinion about it anyway. I listened for a minute. It worried the bishop to have this type of conflict in town.
“Makes everyone suspicious of everyone else.” His old voice threaded the air. “We just need to leave it be and keep to ourselves. Tell your families. This is not our fight.”
Everyone agreed with him and not without fear in their eyes. He encouraged us to work among ourselves and patronize Englisher businesses, Negro or otherwise, as a last option. No one knew of my friendship with Sparrow and the desire I had to know Deedee. We were kind to everyone, but a real closeness should be with our own community members.
I was distracted from the conversation when I saw my husband’s agitation. More than normal. The stress of the day having caught up with him, he tapped his empty coffee cup. He looked across the room at me and his jaw clenched and unclenched.
I looked away. I didn’t care. But I did care. His enslavement to the drink was as strong as mine was to control my womb. If his unusual behavior made someone recognize his sin, then he deserved it.
Mervin and Lena had stayed along with several others. Lena smiled at me and started to get up, but I whisked the flashlight from the drawer and tried not to make eye contact. In a moment she sat back down. One of the older ladies whispered something to her.
As I reached for the doorknob, I saw John stand. He said something about not feeling well. His face was pale and moist and his hair glistened even from this distance. He looked at me again and pain filled his eyes. I didn’t let it affect me and lifted my chin and went out the front door.
I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so I didn’t turn on the flashlight until I was in the woods. There was still a little light left, but once I entered the woods, everything was dark.
I rushed headlong through the path. I knew it well. After a minute I stopped to listen. I could hear movement and night sounds and my breathing. I shut my mouth.
“Sparrow?” I called out in a loud whisper. “Sparrow?”
I didn’t hear any real words but was sure I’d heard a muffled gasp or a whisper or a cry. I didn’t know. It might have been an animal.
I walked farther in. My beam of light didn’t show anything out of the ordinary. I clicked off the light and stood and waited for several long minutes. Nothing but the usual rustling of nighttime in the woods.
Maybe it had just been my imagination. I turned back and walked past the youth who were moving on to another game, but Johnny’s eyes found mine. His brow furrowed and he turned in the direction of the woods where I’d come from and his stare lingered. He didn’t pay mind to the older boy who was explaining the next game. He didn’t notice that Dinah was smiling at him, awaiting his attentions. He just watched the woods.
By the time I went to bed, the youth had all left. Johnny wasn’t home yet from driving Dinah home. Of course, this was more than a drive. She would have pie or cinnamon rolls waiting for him when he arrived at her home. Because I knew the Masts’ house, I knew she would in
vite him to sit in a dating room.
For most families it was just the main living room. They would eat, talk, giggle, and likely kiss too much for the next few hours. I silently prayed he wouldn’t expect more from her and that there would be no detour to Arnold’s barn.
The bedroom was dark when I opened the door and I shielded my small kerosene lamp, not wanting to disturb John. I was careful to set it down and undress without a sound. Before I got my nightgown on I heard a rustling from the bed.
“Emma.”
His raspy, weak voice jolted me, and I shimmied the nightgown over my body and rushed over to him. He was covered in sweat.
“John? Bish du krank?” I asked without thought, but the moment the words left my mouth, of course I knew he was not ill. He was sober.
“I tried—to go to bed—without.” His breathing was rapid and he shook.
We had gone through this before, and no matter how often I despised his ways and distance from me throughout my waking hours, when he was like this, my heart filled with desperation to be that helpmeet I had married him to be.
“Vas kan ich du?” I asked what I could do. Though I knew.
“The cellar,” he said a few times. “I can’t. You can.”
In these moments I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to tell him that we could go back and start again with our marriage, before the alcohol and before my herbs. Before all our sin and begin again.
“I’ll help you.” I started to cry. “We can do this together. No one needs to know.”
“Emma.” He called out like he was not just in pain but in agony. “I tried—almost three days. You didn’t even know it.”
“What?”
“I tried for you.” His breathing was loud and he gripped my arms. My skin squeezed between his fingers. It hurt. “I know you hate me—Johnny does too.”
I shook my head and hot tears fell from my face fast. My conflicting love for him was like a weight so heavy I couldn’t even see clearly. “Let’s just leave this place.”
The Solace of Water Page 18