by Sarah Price
But now, especially with the increasing debt due to David’s unexpected medical bills, they needed that field to yield some crops. Amish Aid only covered so much of David’s expenses. The rest came out of pocket. Daed’s pocket, anyway.
She had wanted to work in the market again this spring. The previous year, she’d had the chance to travel with the youth group that worked in Flemington, New Jersey, at the farmers’ market. It was a big, bustling place with multiple stores where Amish vendors from a variety of communities came to sell crafts, cheese, baked goods, and meats. Kate’s job had been to work at the market’s restaurant. She’d found that, despite the funny looks and sometimes silly questions from the non-Amish patrons, she’d enjoyed her time away from the farm and with her friends.
This year, she would not be returning to Flemington. Without David’s help to work alongside Daed, Kate had no choice. It wasn’t even discussed, just assumed. And while nary a complaint crossed her lips, her heart felt heavy when she realized that her contribution to David’s bills was not in tangible money but in providing surrogate labor for her daed—labor that was nowhere near as helpful as David’s had once been.
“He’s ready for Daed?”
Kate met her maem’s gaze and nodded. “Ja, he’s getting changed.”
Maem pressed her lips together but did not reply. She didn’t have to say a word. Kate could read her mind. God’s will was one thing. David’s attitude was quite another. Still, Maem tended to keep things to herself, refusing to share her thoughts aloud. The tension in the house said enough on her behalf.
The door slammed shut behind Becca as she raced into the kitchen. Her eyes shone bright and she quickly assessed the table. “Pancakes today?”
Maem smiled. “Thought your daed and Kate could use the extra something special for breakfast before fertilizing that field.”
Dramatically, Becca flopped into her chair and rested her head against her hand. “Shouldn’t going to school earn me something special?”
Kate tried to maintain a serious look, but a smile crept across her face. “Oh, Becca,” she said lightly. “Since you are having pancakes, too, seems mighty special for all of us!”
Just as Becca was forming a retort, a loud noise from the back bedroom interrupted their conversation. Kate glanced at her maem before hurrying toward the bedroom. This time, she did not knock as she flung the door open and peered inside for the second time that morning.
The wheelchair was on its side at the foot of the bed. David lay sprawled beside it on the floor. Incapable of moving his legs by himself, he was tangled in bedsheets that had fallen to the floor with him. He tried to lift himself up, pulling at the side of the bed for support.
“David!”
“Look what you’ve done now!” The fury in his eyes burned through her. “You left me alone. Once again, Kate! You left me alone!”
She turned her head, as if his words were a hand that slapped her cheek. Lowering her eyes, she took a step backward, her shoulders brushing against the door as her maem rushed past her and hurried to David’s side.
“Now, now,” she tried to soothe. “I’m sure that Kate had nothing to do with this.”
He glared at her. “It’s all her fault!”
Maem shook her head and gently clicked her tongue. “Just a little overzealous this morning, David. You should have waited for Daed.”
“Hurry up and wait! Hurry up and wait!” He pushed at her hand as Maem tried to help him. “That’s all I do anymore. What’s the point?”
“What’s done is done . . .” she started to say, ignoring his complaints as she righted the wheelchair. Then, with strong arms, Maem lifted David upright, placing him none too gently into the seat. Kate cringed as she watched, knowing the effort it took to move David’s dead weight. With deft hands, Maem quickly straightened his shirt, rebuttoning the top two buttons that he had lined up improperly, and then place a crocheted lap blanket across his knees.
“There! All set for breakfast!”
Kate lowered her eyes and turned around, not able to swallow the hurt in her throat from David’s stinging comments. She couldn’t imagine where Maem found the strength to sound so cheerful all of the time. Kate tried to emulate her, finding a solid role model in her maem’s attitude, but it was a journey Kate knew would not be completed overnight.
Breakfast was a solemn affair. Daed sat quietly at the head of the table, lowering his head for the premeal prayer. Everyone else followed his example. Everyone except David. Kate snuck a peek at him as she feigned closing her eyes and noticed that he stared straight ahead, defiant and angry. It did not bode for a happy day in the Zook house. Suddenly, fertilizing the back field didn’t seem like such an unpleasant chore after all.
CHAPTER THREE
By the time Friday rolled around, the temperatures had risen and spring seemed fully under way. The air felt warm and dry, a welcome respite from the awful cold winter they had just survived. Everyone was anxious for spring this year, Kate especially.
It was not an ordinary weekday because Becca and Miriam were home from school. There was only one teacher who taught in their one-room schoolhouse, and, on this occasion, she’d left to go visit relatives in Ohio for a few days. The girls had happily accepted an extralong weekend, even thought it meant they’d have to spend the spare time doing farmwork.
At the breakfast table, Daed gave the assignments, making it clear that he was going to take advantage of having extra hands at home to assist him with his work. It had been expected, of course. A day off from school didn’t mean that Becca and Miriam would be idle. That, however, did not stop their mouths from dropping when Daed told Kate that the two younger girls, not Kate, would help with the fence repair in the fields that afternoon. Kate felt overjoyed at the announcement because it meant she’d get to work in the garden. To her, nothing was better than time spent tending the crops.
“Fixing the fence?” Becca repeated in disbelief. “Yuck!”
“Becca!” Maem scolded, a disapproving look in her eyes.
Kate tried to hide her smile. Leave it to Becca to get away with such talk. Sassy back talk was Becca’s specialty, that was for sure and certain. Kate knew that her maem would never have accepted such lip from herself or her older bruder, Thomas, when they’d been that age. Time had softened her parents, apparently, and the result was Becca’s tendency to say what everyone was thinking but refrained from sharing.
From the pout on Becca’s face, Kate knew that her youngest sister wasn’t finished. “Fixing fences is hard! And boring!” She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. “Besides, that’s man’s work!”
Kate caught her breath. Of course it was man’s work, she thought. And it took two men to do it properly, one to hold the boards or wire while the other nailed it to the posts. The problem at the Zook farm was that there was only one man to do everything. Becca’s reminder hit home for everyone.
Discreetly, Kate glanced in David’s direction and saw his face twist into a disgusted expression. He narrowed his eyes at Becca’s proclamation and pushed himself away from the breakfast table, struggling with the wheelchair as he tried to retreat to his bedroom.
“Now look what you did,” Miriam whispered harshly in Becca’s direction.
“What?” She looked genuinely confused. “What did I say?”
Miriam rolled her eyes while Maem shook her head. “Becca, you need to mind your words. ‘Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue, keeps himself out of trouble.’ ”
Without a word, Daed stood up and disappeared out the front door, leaving his plate half-finished and the women to deal with David. Kate watched him leave, his shoulders slouched over and a forlorn expression on his face. Her heart hurt as she shut her eyes, praying silently that God would ease Daed’s pain.
After helping her maem clean the dishes, Kate hurried outside. She didn’t want to miss one minu
te of time spent alone in the garden, her hoe in hand, as she picked at the soil, turning it over and pulling out any rocks and roots that rose to the surface.
Not five minutes had passed when she heard the porch door open and saw the two younger girls emerge from the house. Becca jumped down the steps in one big leap, falling to her knees. Scrambling to her feet, she made a face in Kate’s direction before calling out, “Lucky!”
Kate rolled her eyes, trying to not let Becca’s jealousy bother her.
While Becca ran toward the barn, Miriam took the long route, walking up the slight incline to the garden plot. She lingered by the edge, her bare feet digging into the freshly tilled soil where she stood. There was a look of longing in her eyes as she watched Kate work the soil.
“I’d help you, Kate,” Miriam said, a sense of sadness in her voice. “But Daed wants us to help with the fencing.”
Kate nodded, her eyes still focused on the dirt and her hands on the wooden handle of her hoe. There was so much work to do, she thought, that Miriam’s help would have been most welcome. Still, she didn’t mind doing it alone. “Danke, Miriam.”
She knew that either of her younger sisters would have switched places with her in a heartbeat. Repairing fences was hard work that brought little gratification. There was no breeze, and the sun would be hot on top of the hill by the upper field where the cows grazed. Daed tended to focus on work, so there would be no singing of hymns or idle chatter as they worked. His serious nature did not lend itself to jovial pastimes, especially since the accident.
In the garden, however, Kate could breathe freer without the stern eyes of her father upon her. There was ample shade from the nearby oak tree. Birds played in the branches, chirping in spring delight as they readied their nests for babies. The more remote location meant that she wouldn’t have to listen to cars racing down the road or stop to chat with visiting neighbors. It also meant that she didn’t have to see the place where the broken and battered buggy remained. From the top of the grazing paddock, where they’d be tending the fence, a view of it was unavoidable.
No one spoke much about that night or how it had affected their lives. But surely her family knew that it bothered her to see the wreckage, a constant reminder of what had happened on that snowy night in December. It dawned on Kate that, mayhaps, Daed excused her from the fencing repair chore to save her from having to see the damaged buggy. Initially, she thought he’d asked her to work on the garden because he knew how much she loved doing it. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Leaning against the hoe, she stared down at the freshly tilled soil. Her mind worked rapidly as she tried to determine whether that was important. Was Daed actually trying to protect her from the memory or merely avoiding her presence? Probably the former, she decided. As Maem always said, “What’s done is done. Best to move on.”
“Kate Zook!”
Startled from her thoughts, she looked up, surprised to see her friend, Verna Lapp, walking around the barn and toward her. With her dark-blue dress and black apron, Verna looked older than Kate remembered. After all, they had grown up together, attending school as young girls and their first singing as young adults. Their friendship seemed grounded in their ability to balance their differences. Verna’s blond hair and blue eyes contrasted against Kate’s dark ones. Verna was outgoing and adventuresome while Kate preferred staying close to home. Yet their friendship had persevered throughout the years.
Indeed, Verna had always been Kate’s special friend, a sister on a different level than Miriam or Becca could ever achieve. However, as Kate watched Verna approach, she realized that she hadn’t seen much of her friend since December. By whose choice, she wondered, and then realized that it had most likely been her own.
“Wie geht’s?” Verna reached out her hand to shake Kate’s, a common greeting among friends.
Kate tried to smile, fighting her own sense of culpability in having ignored her friendship. Where had the time gone? How many months had gone by without any visits to her friends’ homes or excursions to youth gatherings? The guilt caused her to look down at her feet, ashamed that she had neglected others in such a manner.
“Getting the garden ready for planting,” she said, gesturing to her hoe. As soon as she said it, she felt foolish, realizing that was not the answer to the question Verna asked.
“I can see that, silly,” Verna laughed, her eyes bright and freckles already covering her nose. “I meant in general. How are you doing?”
Kate shrugged, unable to verbalize a response to the question. How could she share with Verna the burden of guilt that weighed on her shoulders? It seemed impossible to explain. So she remained silent.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Just saw your daed up yonder,” she said, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the top field. “Said you were down here, so thought I’d pop in to see you.”
“Right kind of you,” Kate managed to say.
An awkward silence fell between them. Kate wasn’t certain whether she was happy about Verna’s surprise visit. It was easier to not see her friends, she realized . . . part of her wasn’t ready to admit that life continued on, even though Maem continually reminded her of this. No matter what happened, God’s plans continued to work for the betterment of His creation. Hiding at home would not stop that, she scolded herself. “Been a long winter, ja?” Verna didn’t wait for an answer. “Mayhaps time to get you back into the fold for singings.”
Kate shook her head. “I . . . I’m just not ready yet.”
“Oh fiddle-faddle!” Verna dismissed Kate’s confession with a wave of her hand. “There’s nothing to be ready about, Kate. I told your daed that there’s a singing at the Yoders’ after worship on Sunday. Sure would be nice if you came.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You are missed.”
“I can’t face everyone,” she managed to reply.
“Whatever for?” Verna laughed. “Everyone asks about you.”
Everyone? The thought of people wondering about her, asking how she fared, struck Kate as odd. Surely they all had heard the story by now. Surely they all knew that she, Kate Zook, had not stopped David from killing Ruth. That she, and she alone, could have prevented the accident. Oh, she lived each day remembering that she had wisely removed herself from the seat of danger, while knowingly permitting another to go in her place.
“I’m sure,” was all she managed to say.
“Well, your daed said he’d talk to you about it.”
Oh, Kate could only imagine that he would. She didn’t reply.
“Sadie Esh took your place at market,” Verna said, changing the conversation. “Her other schwester is working there, too. At the bakery, I heard.”
Samuel’s sisters? Kate tried to ignore the stab of regret she felt to hear her place had been taken. She missed her days working at the market’s restaurant and felt a momentary wave of resentment that she had been so easily replaced. Immediately, she shoved that thought aside. After all, she shouldn’t have been surprised. With Kate unable to work, the restaurant had to fill a spot. Amish markets like the one in Flemington were increasingly popular with the Englische, many of whom drove long distances to purchase Amish goods. It was only natural that Kate’s absence created a void that needed to be filled.
“Elmer asked me first, but I just didn’t feel right taking your job. Sure would have been fun if both of us could have gone.”
“Ja,” Kate responded, a longing tone in her voice. The early morning drives to market had meant she didn’t need to help with chores. At night, when she had returned, she always had such fun stories to share with Miriam and Becca. Maem, of course, never wanted to hear anything about the Englische and markets. She’d turned her back on them twelve years ago after Jacob died. No one ever challenged her on that, especially Kate.
“Oh vell,” Verna said, waving her hand dismissively. Leave it to Verna to always see the bright
side of things. “I have enough to do at home, what with helping my maem and working on my tie quilts for donating to the Mennonite Central Committee. And to sell, of course.”
“That’s nice,” Kate said, a wistful look in her eyes.
Last year, they made over fifty quilts for the MCC, which sold them in order to fund their efforts helping communities in need. Using a foot-operated sewing machine, Verna and Kate pieced quilt tops made from old clothing that people donated to the cause. Dresses, shirts, aprons, and pants were cut into four-by-four squares and sewed together, making simple patterns. Unlike many of the quilts that the tourists sought and bought, the simple nature of these tie quilts lent themselves to more functionality in the Amish home. Besides being easier to make, they were plain and warm, with thick fleece backing and plump batting inside.
“You should come over to help. I’m tying a bunch of quilts on Monday and Tuesday. We could spend the afternoon on it.” Verna smiled before she added, “Like old times.”
“I’d love to help, Verna,” Kate admitted, meaning it on more than one level. “But Daed needs my help here. We just fertilized the back field last week. I reckon we’ll begin tilling the soil before planting corn week next.”
Disappointment crossed Verna’s face, a sincere look that spoke volumes about her affection for Kate. “Ah vell,” she said, lowering her eyes. “If anything changes, you just come on over, ja? And I’ll be working on the quilts on Mondays throughout the spring and summer. The invitation remains open, Kate. You know that.”
“I know that, Verna.” Oh, how she would have loved to be able to help Verna with the quilts. Just like the old days—the days before the accident when life held some semblance of normalcy.
In hindsight, Kate wasn’t certain that life had ever really been normal on the farm. Too much was left unspoken. It had been for years. The only one who seemed to enjoy being honest about the family’s difficulties was David, but, despite his apparent delight in constantly rehashing painful memories, even he knew what line not to cross in the sand.