An Amish Buggy Ride

by Sarah Price

  Once they arrived at the mailbox, Samuel seemed to walk a little slower. She wondered if he slowed his pace intentionally. “I feel bad you have to walk back alone.”

  “Why, I have an idea!” He seemed excited and stood facing her in the darkness. Even though it was dark, she could sense that he was smiling. “You could walk back with me! And then I’d bring you home in the buggy!”

  She couldn’t help herself from laughing. “Oh, that would be silly now, wouldn’t it?”

  He nudged her gently with his shoulder. “I’m teasing you, Kate.” He leaned down and, with a lowered voice, added, “Although I will confess that if you said yes, I wouldn’t have been disappointed!”

  She blushed, glad for the second time that evening that the darkness hid her reaction.

  “You take care now, Kate Zook.” He reached out a hand and gently touched her arm. She felt a tingle of warmth and stepped back. He chuckled, so soft that she almost didn’t hear him. “And I’ll be seeing you around, then.”

  She nodded, uncertain whether he could see. “Danke, Samuel,” she said.

  With his hands thrust into his pockets, he walked backward for a few steps before turning around. She noticed that he picked up his pace, walking faster and taking the longer route, the route that bypassed the broken buggy on the side of the road. Something about that decision warmed her heart, and as she walked into the house, she realized how relieved that choice made her. Finally, she thought. Someone who understands . . .

  CHAPTER SIX

  The following Saturday, she noticed it was missing right away.

  With temperatures climbing into the midfifties during the week, the snow had completely given way to soggy fields and dull brown grass with hints of green. Although the trees remained bare, their gray limbs stretched toward the blue sky. The activity of the birds increased as they flew from branch to branch, chirping and singing. As she walked to her aendi’s house to help with the boppli, the fence rail remained broken as always. But the buggy was now missing.

  Despite immediately realizing that something was amiss, it took her a moment to recognize the empty place where the buggy’s twisted frame had lingered, a constant reminder of David’s poor decision making and her sin in hiding his secret. It was gone.

  She stopped walking and stared, blinking several times in disbelief. No one had spoken about moving the wreckage. Daed certainly never mentioned it. In fact, during the prior week, he’d spent most of his time in the fields, tilling the soil and then spreading manure to fertilize it in preparation for the planting of corn seed. Kate knew this because she had worked alongside him.

  She felt a welcome lightness inside her chest. The buggy was gone. Simply . . . gone! Since it had been situated on private property, the local law enforcement refused to remove it. In fact, they hadn’t been called until well after David reached the hospital and Ruth was already being tended to by the funeral director. The bishop had stepped forward, refusing to allow the police to intervene, stating that it was merely an accident—something to be dealt with by the family and church.

  No one had ever tested David’s blood alcohol level. No one had attempted to prove that he had been intoxicated. In fact, the question of what caused the accident never was discussed. No one knew about the involvement of alcohol.

  Only Kate knew. Well, and David knew, of course. If Daed suspected it, he never said. Kate did notice that in the days after the accident, an empty whiskey bottle had appeared in the rubbish bin. Certainly Daed had retrieved it from the wreckage. But no one ever spoke of David’s misconduct in causing the accident. Less said, soonest mended, Maem often said. Unfortunately, in this situation, only saying more, not less, could have brought mending and healing.

  So without any criminal charges filed, the buggy was not considered evidence. And so it had sat there, on private property, throughout the long winter. The owner of the field, Amos Lapp, hadn’t bothered to fix the fence or remove the buggy’s remains because it bordered along the road near the Zooks, far back on his own property.

  Of course, with so much snow and ice, there had been weeks where the buggy simply could not be removed. But now, now that the snow had melted, someone had finally addressed the constant reminder of that night.

  It was gone.

  Curious, she walked the rest of the way with her head spinning, realizing that her dozens of questions would likely never get answered. When had it disappeared? It could have been anytime during the week. Who had removed it? Was it Amos Lapp or Daed? Perhaps it was Ruth’s family, tired of avoiding that road in their travels?

  It wasn’t until later that afternoon that she managed to broach the subject with her maem. David was sitting on the porch, a lap blanket over his useless legs as, at Maem’s request, he took in the afternoon sun before the supper hour. Kate set the table, making certain to remove one chair as usual to make room for David’s wheelchair.

  “Noticed something different today,” she started, setting the chair in the corner by the cupboard.

  “Oh ja?” Maem barely looked up from where she stood at the counter, cutting into a fresh loaf of bread. She set the slices on a plate and handed it to Kate to put on the table. “And what was that, then?”

  “The buggy,” Kate said softly. Her eyes flickered toward David, hoping that he couldn’t overhear her. Since he continued staring out into the distance, she presumed he could not. Returning her attention to her maem, she lowered her voice. “It’s gone.”

  For a moment, Maem did not reply. She pursed her lips and inhaled deeply. The silence lingered, just long enough to tell Kate what she wanted to know: Maem knew nothing about the removal of the buggy. Yet, from the expression on her face, her maem clearly felt relief. The same thing Kate had experienced earlier. With the visual reminder finally gone, perhaps some healing might begin.

  “Wasn’t Daed then, I reckon,” Kate said as a way of asking the unspoken question that had lingered on her mind all day, ever since she first walked past the empty spot earlier that morning.

  “Nee.”

  “Then who?”

  Maem shrugged her shoulders in a way that indicated sorrow rather than lack of interest. “Surely the bishop arranged it.” She turned her back to Kate and poured some homemade applesauce into a large bowl. “Won’t hurt anyone to have it gone,” she said under her breath. Kate thought she heard her mother whisper “finally,” but she couldn’t be certain.

  No one spoke further about the buggy, although Kate suspected Maem mentioned it to Daed in the privacy of the washroom. He seemed even more withdrawn than usual during supper, glancing occasionally at David with a look in his eyes that spoke of sorrow and disappointment. David kept his eyes on his plate, never once looking up at anyone seated around the table.

  “Saw Samuel Esh today,” Daed said, glancing in Kate’s direction. The announcement was clearly important, so everyone stopped eating and looked up. “Stopped by to visit with David.”

  Silence.

  Kate felt compelled to respond since everyone stared at her. “Did he now?” She looked at her brother. “That sure was nice of Samuel to visit you, David.” At the mention of Samuel’s name, her heart beat rapidly and she hoped that her cheeks didn’t take on obvious color.

  David grunted, but said nothing.

  “I sure hope you were more pleasant than that when he came calling,” Maem said tersely.

  Kate could tell when her mother was annoyed. Clearly, this was one of those times. Her usual way was to speak in a soft tone and never raise her voice to her children. However, that seemed to be changing as of late. Her even temperament disappeared more frequently, especially in the past two weeks.

  David didn’t respond but scowled at his maem for the reproach.

  “I thought I heard a buggy earlier,” Maem said, directing her statement back at Daed.

  “Fine young man, that Esh boy.”

>   If Kate hadn’t blushed before, she knew her cheeks bloomed pink at that last statement.

  “Was driving by and stopped in to see how David was doing.” Daed nodded his head. “Been a while since any of the young men have come around. Wondered about that myself.”

  No one needed to remind Daed that David had all but chased away any visitors. His negative moods didn’t create a warm, inviting atmosphere, that was for sure and certain. There had been a flood of visitors after the accident, especially in the days immediately following David’s return from the hospital. He’d turned away every one of them, choosing to stay in his dark room and wallow in his misery rather than socialize. It didn’t take long for the visits to stop.

  “We were outside,” Daed continued, ignoring David and concentrating on Kate. “He asked if you were home.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows, ignoring the giggles that escaped from Becca’s mouth. “Me?” She glanced at her maem and noticed that she was still eating. Clearly she already knew whatever Daed was going to say. “Whatever for?”

  “He your boyfriend, Kate?”

  “Nee!” Kate frowned as she scowled at Becca who sat opposite her at the table. But from the grin on Becca’s face, she clearly did not believe her older sister.

  “A youth group is taking a ride over to the park on Stumptown Road to try their hand at fishing. Asked if you might want to join them.”

  Once again, Kate found herself speechless. First the rides home on the previous two Saturdays after she worked at Susan’s house and then he’d walked her home from the singing last week. Now fishing? She didn’t know this young man, had barely exchanged a dozen words with him in the past five years and now, suddenly, he seemed to be everywhere.

  “Too cold to go fishing,” she said quickly. “Besides, I’m needed here.” She couldn’t believe that she needed to point that out to her parents. After all, without her help, who would assist Maem with David on Sunday afternoon?

  “Nonsense.” Daed shook his head. There was a determined look on his face, one that worried Kate. “Time you get out and about, Kate. He’ll be here to fetch you at one o’clock.”

  “At one?” Becca groaned. “Means more barn chores for me, then,” Becca pouted, the grin quickly disappearing from her face as she slapped her hand against her forehead. “Great.”

  Maem shook her head, disapproving of Becca’s reaction.

  “I don’t like the cold,” Kate said softly.

  Daed clenched his teeth. “You’ll be going, Kate. Won’t be having two of my kinner sitting around moping about the past!”

  David snapped to attention, clearly aware that he was the other kinner being referenced by Daed. “I wouldn’t be moping if someone had gotten in the buggy and driven it!”

  “Oh hush, boy!”

  Kate bit her lip and stared down at her hands, folded neatly on her lap. She didn’t need to look at her daed to know that his eyes flashed with anger, the extent of his emotions mirrored by the harshness of his voice.

  “It’s time to get on with your own life and let Kate get on with hers!”

  “Is that what you told Jacob?” David snapped, his eyes narrow and glaring at his daed.

  Maem gasped, her hand lifting to cover her mouth as she fought the tears that immediately flooded her eyes.

  “Oh wait, you couldn’t tell him that because he died, didn’t he?” He rolled his eyes to look at Kate. “And whose fault was that, I wonder?”

  Daed pounded his closed fist against the tabletop, the plates rattled, and Becca’s water glass fell over. She hurried to right it, dabbing at the puddle of water on the table with the edge of her dirty apron. “I’ll have no more of that talk!” He pointed a finger at his son. “No more of that out of your mouth, David.”

  Kate trembled, her appetite vanished, and her hands shook so hard that she lowered them to her lap. Twelve years may have passed, but the pain was still fresh. She blinked her eyes rapidly, willing herself to remain strong. David’s harsh reminder stung and she wished that she could just stand up, leave the table, and cry in peace.

  She caught Becca steal a glance at her. Kate averted her eyes, but not before she saw the questioning look on her youngest sister’s face. Becca was the only one who hadn’t been born yet when Jacob passed away. Of course, Miriam had been just a small baby, so she clearly didn’t remember that difficult year. No one spoke about it, so only whispers of comments from other people had informed her younger sisters about that summer day that ended in tragedy.

  Kate pushed the memory as far away as possible. There was no use rehashing it. Move on, she thought, repeating Maem’s words.

  For the rest of the meal, everyone ate in silence. David picked at his plate, a scowl on his face. Kate’s appetite was gone, but she knew better than to waste food. Forcing herself to finish her plate, she escaped into her mind, repeating the Lord’s Prayer three times as a way to calm down.

  Oh, she knew David felt pain. His anger was a mask for his true feelings of loss and grief. That didn’t excuse his horrible words to her, however. After all, words hurt. Still, she reminded herself, not for the first time, that the pain she felt from his verbal abuse could not compare to David’s memory of waking up in the hospital with a severed spine and a broken arm to hear the news that his girlfriend was dead. If alcoholism was truly a disease, Kate knew David had been sick with it, which made it hard to blame him. She had not suffered from a disease. No, she’d simply failed to speak up, and she felt the burden of guilt for it.

  After the family finished the meal and the after-prayer was said, Daed pushed back his plate and left the table. Moments later, she heard him walking across the front porch, his footsteps heavy on the stairs as he disappeared in the direction of the barn.

  Kate quickly hurried to clean the dishes while her younger sisters cleared the table. Gone were the days of laughing after supper, playing board games or going for evening walks. Daed’s propensity toward perpetual anger seemed to create a negative energy in the house, even worse than David’s sulking attitude.

  Kate busied herself in washing the dishes, wondering how her mother managed to hold everything together. Besides coping with David and the moodiness that accompanied his permanent handicap, she was forced to deal with Daed’s constant irritability as well. While Kate knew that God gave people what they could handle, she often prayed that He’d give her mother just a little less once in a while.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The sound of the buggy pulling into the lane interrupted Kate’s thoughts as she sat on the sofa, reading her Bible. The worn leather cover felt smooth and familiar to her hands. In Kate’s eyes, there was nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon than read the book of Psalms. The pages were marked with crocheted bookmarks and slips of paper that she had placed there as a way to remember her favorite passages.

  Today, however, she would have to put away her Bible and forego reading her favorite Psalms. When the horse’s hooves stopped and she heard the not-so-familiar sound of Daed greeting a visitor, Kate sighed. She shut the Bible and set it on the end table, her eyes glancing at the clock as her heart pounded. With impeccable punctuality, Samuel arrived at exactly one o’clock.

  Kate glanced at her maem, who, thankfully, did not look back. Kate knew that any sideways glances or raised eyebrows would have sent her scurrying upstairs and into her bedroom. She did not want to go with Samuel to the youth gathering. She wasn’t ready yet. Unfortunately, arguing with Daed was not an option.

  When he knocked at the door, Kate stood up. She brushed at the front of her navy-blue dress before sighing, just once more, and then walking to the door.

  He greeted her with a smile, his eyes bright and sparkly from beneath the shadow of his straw hat. “You ready for some fishing, then?”

  She responded with a simple nod and joined him on the porch. “I don’t have any gear or nothing.” She wasn’t certa
in why she said that; it wasn’t as though he would refuse to take her. She immediately felt embarrassed and stared at the door handle.

  “No matter,” he said, and gestured toward the buggy. She noticed the top of two fishing poles sticking out of the back window. “I brought plenty for both of us, I’m sure.”

  If he sensed her hesitation, he made no indication. Instead, he gave her a lopsided grin before he walked toward his buggy. The brown mare stood at the hitching post, rubbing her nose against the metal bar. Samuel untied the lead rope and waited until Kate placed her foot on the iron step and climbed inside the buggy. Then he joined her, careful not to jiggle the buggy when he did.

  “Sure do love this time of year.” At the end of her lane, he paused the horse, looking both ways before directing the mare to turn left. “I reckon spring is my favorite season. What about you, Kate?”

  She hesitated. She wasn’t used to engaging in such conversation. At home, most of the conversation focused on chores or things that happened within the community. With her friends, when she used to go out with them, most of their conversation focused on their families and any gossip. Personal questions soliciting her opinion didn’t seem to pop up too often.

  “Well,” she began, “there is magic in every season. I don’t think I have a favorite. Each season has something special about it. To pick one over the others? Why, I don’t think it would be fair to the rest.”

  He glanced at her, a smile on his face. “Why, that’s the most tenderhearted response anyone could have given!”

  She blushed.

  He cleared his throat and shifted the reins in his hands. “Was sorry to have missed seeing you yesterday when I stopped by to visit David.”

  The sudden change of the conversation startled her. Had he sensed her discomfort at his compliment? “That was right nice of you to visit him. I’m sure he appreciated it.”

  “Seems a bit improved.”

  Kate frowned. Had Samuel visited David before yesterday? If he had, she knew nothing about it. She wanted to ask, but felt awkward prying into his private business. Kate turned her head to look out the window. She wondered why Samuel had decided to visit at all. Everyone knew he was closer in age to Thomas than David.