The Narrow Path

by Gail Sattler

  In the gap waiting for the operating system to boot up, Miranda tugged at her skirt, for all the good it did.

  "Don't worry about me embarrassing you like this again.Lois offered to sew me a few new skirts. I didn't want her to go to all that trouble, but she insisted."

  "Ja, Lois likes to sew. She used to sew with her daughter."

  "Where is her daughter now? I wasn't introduced to her this morning."

  "Deborah had gone to one of the Christian universities to become a teacher. She used to come home most weekends, but she met a man and they got married. They are both living on campus, and they will both graduate in September. They do not know where they will live, but everyone doubts that it will be here."

  "Is Lois okay with that?"

  "She misses Deborah, but she is waiting for grandchildren.Lois dislikes travel, but she will do it to see babies."

  "I can imagine her on the plane; she's so warm and friendly.Everyone near her would do anything to help her relax. In exchange, Lois would probably mail them cookies."

  "Ach, no. She would mail them pasching puffa." Ted closed his eyes and sighed, making Miranda imagine how good Lois's peach fritters must be.

  Even though she had only been in their home a couple of days, she'd never experienced such an example of oldfashioned domestic bliss. Lois truly enjoyed keeping the house clean and performing all the domestic duties the hard way and accepted that as her contribution.

  Being the pastor's daughter, Miranda had developed a sense for people. Usually she could tell when someone was acting happy on the outside, but inside they were miserable. Lois wasn't miserable. She seemed genuinely happy, inside and out.

  The graphics program finally finished loading, so Miranda set the photos to slideshow mode, then sat back to allow the men room to watch.

  "For the last cantata, we had two soloists, and the choir behind them."

  Ted pointed to one of the costumes in the photo. "I see that someone in your church also has a talent for sewing."

  "Actually, people were responsible for their own costumes.Most of them were bought at shops."

  The next photo was of the band. From behind her, she heard a few sharp intakes of breath, making her wonder what the men found more shocking—that the drummer was a woman, or that the woman drumming wore pants. Or that she was using a computer to show photos.

  "I brought a DVD of the concert." As the words came out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. There would be no electronics in John and Susan's home. Not even a television.

  "There is a DVD player at the church," Ted said. "We will have to plan for a meeting to listen to it. But some of your songs from this were on what you mailed, were they not?"

  "Yes. Here are a few more pictures from last Christmas. The tickets went so fast we had to put on an extra performance.Which is what I hope will happen here."

  "Tickets? We are not going to charge for tickets. This is to be by open invitation."

  "The tickets will be free. They're just to reserve seats—so we know how many people will be there each night, and we won't have more people come than we have seats and need to turn people away." Although from the looks of things so far, I doubt that will happen. But she could dream. And pray.

  Almost like a domestic parade, all the ladies appeared from the kitchen. Lois set a cup of tea beside her laptop, and Susan carried a plastic container filled with a variety of leftovers, which she placed near the edge of the coffee table. "For you, Ted."

  He smiled graciously at her. "Danke shoen, Susan. I am always grateful for your leftovers, and one day when I am fat, I will know who has done this to me."

  Miranda smiled. This one thing was the way it was at home. Many of the older married ladies gave handouts to the single men. Ted, being the only single man in attendance, probably would receive enough food for a few days, and be happy for it.

  She turned to ask if anyone in the congregation ran a print shop and was stopped by the sight of John grinning and patting his rounded stomach. "Ah, Ted, my friend, this truly is what will happen to you when you get married. This is also why I am going to get only one sandwich for lunch all week long."

  Beside him, Len laughed. "You are doing fine until your wife starts packing a salad for your lunch."

  The men's smiles dropped, as if Len had proposed a fate worse than death. Behind them, most of the women giggled.

  For the first time that day, Miranda felt herself relax.This was a similarity that her church shared with this one— in Mennonite circles, one did not entertain without mass quantities of food.

  Maybe the culture shock wasn't going to be so bad, once she got a new wardrobe. She had already texted her father to stop the shipment of all but one box of her clothes, and her piano.If she wanted to look at the bright side, this was a good reason to go shopping. Yet, no matter what she wore, she still feared that she would never truly fit in with the women here. She was university-educated and fully immersed in the business protocols of the modern world, as were many other women in her church, certainly all of her friends. Here, the lines were distinct. The men were the providers and head of the house.The women took care of hearth and home. Yet no one seemed unhappy. In fact, Miranda suspected the divorce rate here was almost nil. In some ways, she almost envied them, while at the same time she knew that she could not be happy here on a long-term basis.

  For one short year, she could do it, and probably enjoy it. It could be like a working vacation. Except she wasn't exactly on vacation, she was doing two jobs—first writing and directing the church's Christmas drama, plus the job she couldn't leave behind in Seattle. The key would be settling into a routine.

  Tomorrow, when all was calm and everyone went back into their weekday activities, Lois would allow Miranda the privacy she needed, which she would use to full advantage. She wouldn't have an Internet connection, so she planned to walk to the church and visit Kathleen, who could discreetly answer many of her questions.

  Once more, she studied the group, while they were all busy studying the display on her laptop.

  Even though Ted obviously shopped at the same store as all the other men and his trusty hat hung at the rack near the door with all the rest, he seemed to have a different way of thinking than everyone else. Something about him wasn't quite the same, but she didn't know what.

  When the last picture finished and the screen went to black, Miranda began the process of shutting down the computer. As she closed the laptop, Ted sat forward, capturing her attention."In the meeting, you had talked of demographics. I will help you familiarize yourself with Piney Meadows. I have taken tomorrow off work to show you around."

  Miranda's throat tightened. "Tomorrow? You took the day off work?"

  "Ja. All arrangements have been made for someone else to look after my duties, so I have booked a vacation day. I will pick you up at ten."

  5

  What I wouldn't give right now for a Starbucks," Miranda sighed from the chair.

  Ted turned his head to stare at the growing pile of boxes on the floor beside her. "Would that help you decide? You have tried on every pair of boots in the store. Soon we will be asked to leave."

  Whenever Ted bought boots or shoes, he picked the ones he liked best from the shelf, tried them on, and if they fit, he bought them. Within five minutes his transaction was done, and he was on to his next task.

  Instead of again taking off the current boot, she slipped the matching one onto her other foot. One eye narrowed as she contemplated both booted feet side by side, then she tapped the heels together.

  "I'll take these." She turned to look up at the poor clerk, who sagged visibly with relief. "Can you put my tennis shoes in the bag, and I'll just wear these out? I'll put that on my credit card."

  When her transaction was complete, Ted stowed her package in the trunk of his car. He checked to make sure the lock was engaged, then turned to see Miranda digging for something in her new purse, which was serviceable, large, and a good neutral color.
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  "Will Lois need her coat back today? I need to know, in order to plan what time we need to return."

  She shook her head without looking up. "No, she said she has no plans for herself, or her coat. But I need a trip to Walmart as soon as possible to get my own."

  While she continued to dig, a gust of wind whipped up her hair. Ted pressed his hat down to his head until the gust stilled.

  Even with Lois's coat, he knew Miranda would still be cold because she wasn't used to Minnesota winters. He was cold.Her jeans would keep her legs warm, which, even though he hated to admit it, was a wise choice. Some of the young ladies the same age as Miranda wore pants in casual situations away from church, although none of the ladies over the age of forty ever did. While he valued tradition to the core of his soul, he often thought those ladies would be very, very cold with the winter wind blowing, and had concluded that was why all ladies' winter activities were held indoors.

  Miranda pulled something out of her purse, stuffed it in her jacket pocket, and raised her head to look at him. "Are you going to start my tour, now that I have my boots? Before I freeze to death?"

  He cleared his throat. "As you can tell, this is the main street in town."

  She pulled the smallest camera he'd ever seen out of her pocket, aimed it at the street sign, pressed the button, and turned to smile at him. "Ya think? After all, the sign says we're on Main Street. Before I forget, on our way home, can we drive in the same way as we came from the airport? I'd like to take a picture of the welcome sign with the population count for the opening page of my album."

  "You take pictures of signs?"

  "Of course. They're like a road map, directing me through my photo albums."

  He'd already seen too much of her camera. Everywhere she went, she took photos, often when she thought no one was watching. She had taken a few at the church on Sunday, plus Len and Lois caught her taking photos of their antique piano.As if she wouldn't see it enough in the coming year.

  He looked at the camera again. At least it wasn't red, but it was pink. "My friend Brian also has a digital camera, although it is larger." It was also black and looked like a camera."Whenever he shows me his photos, we have to turn on his computer, just like you and your laptop. I like to hold photographs in my hand when I look at them."

  "Tsk. And you call yourself a Mennonite."

  Ted reached up to straighten his hat. He had always been proud of his heritage. Above all, he was never ashamed. He didn't stop wearing his hat when he was in the city on business, even though people often stared at him, and sometimes they whispered and pointed. But God was gracious. When he was away on a business trip, the way he carried himself and his refusal to dress like the city people identified him with Onkel Bart's furniture business, which their purchasers liked. His success at marketing told him God had blessed their business.

  She smiled a little too sweetly. "I am being a good steward with my digital camera because it doesn't take film, and it uses a rechargeable battery."

  "Taking many pictures does not make you a good Mennonite."

  "Still, they help me remember where I've been."

  Ted had been many places in North America, and even though he didn't own a camera, he remembered them just fine.

  She snapped more pictures. "This area is so quaint. I like it."

  "This is the older area of our downtown. We do not have a mall here. We chose to keep the atmosphere friendly with the traditional shopping area."

  He wondered if she had visited the Mall of America.

  She lifted her camera and snapped more pictures. "I've seen pictures like this in books. All these stores look so old."

  "That is because they are old."

  Ted started walking at a reasonable speed, but Miranda slowed her pace to take more pictures as she continued on.He slowed so she could catch up, but the more he slowed, the more she did, until she was at a dead stop in front of Bess's store. "Can we go in here?"

  "It depends. Do you want to take pictures or buy something?"

  She smiled as if he'd made a joke. "Buy something. I need to buy some yarn to knit myself a scarf."

  He lowered his head. "This I must see," he grumbled to himself as he pulled the door open and waited for her to enter.He couldn't imagine her knitting, but if she truly did, maybe there was some hope for her after all. Maybe.

  He stood, waiting less than patiently, while she introduced herself to Bess, then bought all the yarn Bess said she would need for a hat and scarf. It shouldn't have surprised him that it was red.

  Once again, they returned to his car that was parked on the street. Not that he'd needed to drive the short distance. In fact, it had probably taken longer to warm the car up than it would have taken to walk. But he was glad he had brought it, because she had bought so many things they had to keep returning to the car to stow them. The trunk was almost full, and they hadn't yet been inside every store. Almost every store, but not all. However, he had to admit he was getting an education. Until today, he had never been inside a fabric store. He hadn't known there were so many components involved in the construction of a dress.

  For the fourth time, he rearranged the contents of the trunk so he could close it without squashing anything. "This shopping trip has taken longer than I had planned. I would like to stop for lunch."

  She looked up one side of the street, then the other. "I don't see any burger joints. I guess this means we're eating healthy."

  "Ja. A good meal should be wholesome and not rushed."

  Miranda's mouth opened as if she was going to ask a question, but instead she shook her head and turned in the direction of the only few stores they hadn't visited, which was also where Elena and Mary's restaurant was. "That sounds great.I'm starving."

  As they walked, Miranda continued to compare the main downtown area of Piney Meadows to the Pike Place Market in Seattle. There, the theme was variety in crafts, unique items, and collectables, as well as the markets for fresh fruit, vegetables, and delicious snacks. Here the theme was much the same, but it was Mennonite through and through. For the Mennonite people who lived here, these were their normal places of business.Therefore, the prices were modest.

  But good prices or not, after buying so much fabric, she didn't dare go inside any more stores. She had overspent her budget by about double, and needed to wait for her next paycheck before buying anything else, down to a pack of gum.

  On her next shopping trip, she wanted to spend more time, and money, at the craft store. That's where she'd seen most of the materials used in many of the handcrafted items she wanted to take home, and she knew that it was probably the ladies in the sewing group she planned to join who made these things. She would ask them to teach her how to make these things herself.

  That was a group she needed to join—the sewing group. It was the best setting to meet the ladies, learn to fit in, and make friends. Fortunately, no one had called her an "Englisher" as the Amish did with outsiders. Her last name assured them that she was one of them, and yet she had to earn the right to be welcome in any of their inner circles.

  "If one day you would like to get your hair cut and you do not want Lois to do it, here is where you can go."

  Miranda slowed to take a picture, again from the outside as they passed, since Ted had started to refuse to walk inside any more of the shops. "Are you sure? This looks kind of like a barbershop, but different."

  Ted nodded, slowing only slightly while she caught up. "Ja. It is more than a barbershop. Dave Reimer cuts the men's hair on the right of the shop, and his wife Gerta cuts the ladies' hair on the left."

  Even the hair salon was divided down the middle. She didn't dare ask if Gerta could touch up her roots. The next time she got her hair streaked, it would be back at Roxi's at home. Next January.

  "Here we are. You will enjoy this. Elena Rempel and her sesta Mary Dueck do all the cooking. You have met William Janzen, their brooda. He is the church treasurer. He works for Onkel Bart and me for four days a wee
k, and for one day he takes care of the restaurant."

  From the second the door opened, wholesome cooking smells tantalized her—onions, sizzling meats, the unmistakable aroma of roasting chicken, and something sweet that meant dessert. "Mmm!" Miranda closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "This smells just like my church's last potluck supper, only better."

  While Ted held the door open, Miranda stepped inside, then moved to let him pass.

  "I see a good table that is empty," he said as he stepped onto a burlap mat and stomped the snow off his boots. "We will go there."

  The door had barely closed behind them when one of the sisters called out from behind the counter. "Ted! Na woa laet et?"

  "It is looking good," he said, then smiled to return her greeting."As usual, it is a pleasure to see you."

  The woman didn't approach them but continued to speak loudly across the room. "I see you have brought our guest, Miss Klassen. Sit down. I will be there very soon."

  Ted removed his hat, then carried it with him, leading Miranda to a table beside the window. Instead of sitting, he pulled out one of the chairs and waited behind it.

  Miranda had almost aimed herself to go around the table to the other side before she realized what he was doing. "Thank you," she mumbled as she moved toward him, then lowered herself into the chair as he pushed it in for her to position herself comfortably.

  She draped Lois' coat on the back of her chair while Ted walked casually around the table, as if this was normal for him. She couldn't remember the last time a man had seated her at a table. Bradley had never done that when he'd taken her on a date.

  Ted deposited his coat and hat on the seat of the extra chair, then sat opposite her. "All this shopping has made me hungry," he said, as he rested one hand on his stomach.

  "What shopping? All you bought was a tin of shoe polish."

  "I needed nothing else."

  A lady with "Elena" on her name tag appeared with two menus in hand. "Enjoy! Of course we will give Miss Klassen's meal the same discount as we give you. I must run. The pies are coming out of the oven. I will be back."