Sunday was the Lord’s Day, but not a church day this week for the Zook family. The Amish attended church in one another’s homes every other Sunday. On the “off” Sundays they rested, did only necessary chores, and read from their German Bibles.
As soon as I arrived home from church and ate dinner, I carefully placed the next two letters from Joseph Lapp into the wide pocket of my backpack. I hoped Rachel and I might have a private moment together so she could translate them for me.
When I arrived next door, Rachel was getting ready for a walk and was delighted that I had come. Together, we headed for the woods behind the barn.
“Simple things are best,” I said as we walked into the deepest part of the woods together.
She understood fully and lifted her rosy cheeks to the sun as its warm rays filtered down through the branches overhead.
“Would you mind reading some more of my great-great grandfather’s letters?” I asked later when we stopped to catch our breath.
“Did ya bring ’em?”
“They’re right here.” I took them out of my pocket, plastic and all. We sat on the ground with the forest animals, squirrels and birds, skittering around us.
Rachel began to translate. “ ‘My dear Samuel, brother and friend.
I have thought to change my given Christian name. I wish not to bring sadness and shame to my family. I will not legally change my surname, but I have chosen to be called Levi Lapp. You will address me as Levi from this day forward.’”
“Levi?” I asked, confused. “Why a biblical name if he was leaving the Amish?”
Rachel scanned the next lines. “It says here that Mary Smith picked out the name for him. Maybe she was a Mennonite.”
“That’s strange,” I said.
She hung her head sadly. “I had almost forgotten about his changing names.”
“Maybe he needed a clean slate to start over.”
“Maybe so.”
We talked about other possible reasons, but the discussion eventually led to Levi, her brother.
“Grossdawdy wants Levi to be baptized this fall,” she said.
I wondered about that. Did her elderly grandfather feel he could die in peace if Levi was safely baptized into the church?
“Grossdawdy is afeared for Levi,” she went on, looking into my eyes. “He suspects that Levi is running with a rough crowd. Maybe even the Mule Skinners.”
I didn’t dare tell her that what she said was true.
“Such things could give Grossdawdy heart failure,” she said softly. “Me too.”
Was she worried that history might repeat itself? That her own brother might become as rebellious as Joseph Lapp from so long ago?
We stood up and began walking again. Then, coming to a patch of wild clover, we bent low and filled our pockets. I thought of Joseph changing his name to Levi for Mary, his bride-to-be. It seemed strange that their names matched Levi’s and mine.
Monday after school, Rachel showed me how to make a crossstitch design without a pattern. On Tuesday, we worked on quilted pillow coverings for her hope chest. And mine.
Of course, Rachel didn’t know that I owned no such thing as a hope chest. And as I sat beside her at the kitchen table hand sewing the quilted pillows, it struck me that if I were Amish, I would be steadily filling my hope chest, just as she was. In fact, if I were Amish, I’d probably be engaged to be married a few years from now. A startling thought.
Spending time at the Zooks’ helped me keep my mind off Lissa and Jon. They were showing up everywhere together. At school, at church. It was unbearable.
Because stress always made me hungry, I was exactly where I needed to be. Esther Zook always had warm, fresh bread and homemade jellies on hand, not to mention oodles of pies. After all, food was an Amishman’s middle name!
All the time I was spending with Rachel unfortunately posed an unforeseen problem. I hadn’t realized it at first, but Levi was beginning to mistake my reason for being there. He kept coming around, paying more attention to me than ever. It was one thing for him to flirt with me out in his potato field, but right under his parents’ noses?
I had to admit, Levi was making me nervous. Because, friends or not, I certainly didn’t want Abe and Esther Zook to think I was contributing to their son’s reluctance toward Amish baptism. Not now, not ever!
Chapter
15
On Thursday after school, two days before the ninth-grade church picnic, Rachel and I moved all the furniture off her front porch—three rocking chairs and several plant tables. Both of us were sweeping, stirring up a cloud of dust, when the subject of Joseph Lapp came up.
Rachel got it started. She stopped sweeping and leaned on her broom for a moment. “I asked Grossdawdy more about Joseph Lapp.”
I perked up my ears. “You did?”
“Jah.” She tucked a strand of light brown hair into the bun at the back of her head. “Joseph Lapp refused to return and repent to his family and the church. He must’ve loved his Mary a lot to give everything up for her.” She sighed. “He even lost the farmland his father had planned to give him.”
I was silent. Has Levi heard this part of the story?
“It doesn’t make sense,” Rachel observed. “Why would Joseph Lapp bother kneeling for baptism if he was just gonna turn around and leave?”
“It would’ve been better for him in the end if he hadn’t taken the baptismal vow, right?”
She nodded solemnly and slowly began to sweep again. “Baptism is sacred and permanent. If you don’t take it, you never have to worry about the Meidung…the shunning.”
“So right now you’re not really in or out of the church.”
“Jah. But most Amish teens who don’t take the baptism pledge end up leaving. Usually they end up Mennonites.”
“Why, because Mennonites allow cars and have electricity?”
“Jah.”
I swept my pile of leaves and debris under the porch railing and watched it fall to the ground. “Do you think Levi will be baptized this fall?”
Rachel shrugged her shoulders and her blue eyes grew sad again. “I doubt Levi will do it. I heard him tell Dat that he wants to get his hair cut.”
That got my attention. I wanted to ask her if she’d told Levi about the letters from my great-great grandfather, but instead, swept another clump of dried leaves away from the house.
All day Levi had been cultivating the cornfield, and I wanted to see him, especially after Rachel’s remark about his hair. It was hard to think of Levi with a contemporary haircut. Harder still to think of being his girl. As I headed for home that evening, I went out of my way to say hi.
Instead of stopping everything and greeting me like he usually did, Levi waved. “Hullo, Merry! Come ride with me.”
“I better get going,” I replied. “Mom’ll have supper waiting.”
He grinned, looking cuter than ever. “Come back after,” he said, pushing his straw hat forward, hiding his eyes.
I snickered at the cockeyed hat and walked along the row of corn to keep up with the mules and the cultivator. “What for?”
“Ach, just come, Merry. Will ya?” He said it playfully, but there was that underlying take-charge tone indicative of the Amish male. He took his hat off and shook the dust out of his hair. “Well?”
“I might,” I teased, turning to go. Why was my heart beating like this?
“Will you have your answer for me tonight?”
I turned around. This boy wasn’t giving up. What should I do?
He was grinning again. “You can come back, Merry,” he urged, putting his straw hat back on. “No one’ll mind.”
“Your grandfather might.”
He frowned suddenly.
“I know he wants you to be baptized soon.”
“Himmel,” Levi said. “Rachel’s been talkin’ out of turn.” And by my silent response I was acknowledging the truth.
I felt like a traitor. Rachel had confided in me, and here I was spilling th
e beans.
He waved as I stepped gingerly between the rows of corn, heading for home. Obviously, there were no hard feelings between us for what I’d said. Levi had always been one to forgive and forget. It was the Amish way.
Scurrying over the field to SummerHill Lane, I could hardly wait for supper. Not so much from hunger, but from mere curiosity. This was the night I would discuss Levi with my parents. I could only hope my brother wouldn’t make things difficult for me. Wishful thinking. Ridiculing his “little Merry” was one of the things Skip did best.
“You’re right on time,” Mom said as I breezed into the kitchen. “Hurry and wash up for supper.”
It bothered me that she was still saying the same things she’d said to me all my life. At fifteen and a half, I wasn’t a kid anymore. Why didn’t she realize that?
I glanced around the kitchen. Usually my brother was stuffing his face nonstop with junk food before and after each meal. “Where’s Skip?”
Dad strolled in from the living room carrying the newspaper under his arm. “He’s busy at church. The senior banquet’s tomorrow night.”
I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. So obvious was it that Mom frowned and glanced at Dad. “Your brother will be involved in many senior activities between now and graduation day,” she said. “He’s excited, and I hope you’re happy for him, too.”
“Sure, Mom, I’m happy.”
I’m happier for me, though. I headed down the hall to the powder room to wash up. Come next fall, I’d have the run of the house.
“I always knew that boy had it in him,” Dad remarked as I came back into the kitchen. “Skip sure had us fooled in junior high, though.”
Mom said, “High school seemed to make the big difference for him. I guess change is good sometimes.”
Her comment reminded me of Jon Klein. That’s exactly what I’d said to him—change is good—the day I worried out loud about going to high school next year. It was also the last day we’d played our alliteration word game together. Thirteen depressing days ago!
Dad refolded the newspaper and slid it into a large wicker basket under Mom’s square antique plant table in the corner of the kitchen.
She had succeeded in coaxing a multitude of African violets to life in that corner; now they were thriving to beat the band.
Dad offered to carry the platter of fried chicken to the table and sat down, waiting as Mom filled our glasses with iced tea. He looked at me from the head of the table. “You’re awfully quiet, Mer. Something on your mind?”
I wondered whether to spring Levi Zook on them now or later. Opting for later, I reached for my napkin and shrugged. “We can talk about it during dessert.”
“Which reminds me,” Mom said, observing me, “I made chocolate chip cookies this morning.”
I sniffed the air. “Can’t wait. Smells great!”
Mom smiled and bowed her head.
Dad said a prayer of thanks for the food, and I ate while the two of them chatted about his day at the hospital. Evidently, a woman in labor had come to the emergency room. “She looked large enough for twins,” Dad said, grinning at me, “but it turned out she gave birth to one very hefty baby boy.”
“I wonder how everything’s going with Aunt Teri,” Mom said. “Haven’t talked to her for over a week.”
“She’s certainly no spring chicken,” Dad said, chuckling. “You have to hand it to her, wanting to start a family at her age.”
I could hardly wait for the chocolate chip cookies. My parents were simply rambling, enjoying their conversation about absolutely nothing while I sat here stewing, thinking through my plan of attack.
Mom started to clear the table, and I hopped up to help. Anything to get things rolling.
At last, the ice cream was dished up and the heaping plate of cookies placed on the table. Dad smiled almost sweetly at me, leaned back in his chair, and waited. Waited silently with his arms folded across his chest.
The silence wiped me out, and I took a deep breath, hoping I could pull this off. “Mom, Dad”—I looked at both of them—“what would you say if I went out with Levi Zook?”
Silence followed. Absolute, complete silence.
Hilarious laughter would’ve been welcomed at this point. Anything.
But Dad’s face was as blank as Mom’s.
Chapter
16
“Well?” I ventured, still waiting for some kind of response from them. “Levi is a good friend, and we’ve known each other since childhood.”
Dad took another cookie, held it in midair, and turned it around in his hand as if it were a buggy wheel. “So it was you in Levi’s buggy two Sundays ago.”
I gasped. “What?”
His face broke into a broad grin. “Miss Spindler just happened to mention it to me the other day when I was mowing the lawn.”
“I should’ve known,” I muttered.
“Don’t be upset, Mer,” Dad said, surprising me. “You know how the old lady is. She makes mountains out of molehills.”
I nodded. “It’s her livelihood.”
Mom hadn’t commented on the matter yet, and her aloofness made me nervous.
Dad continued. “Where did Levi ask you to go with him?”
“He talked about the Green Dragon.” I shrugged my shoulders.
Mom spoke at last. “I hope you won’t go out on the highway in that buggy of his.” She stared at me, her eyes penetrating. Then she cut loose with her real concern. “Merry…what could you possibly have in common with an Amish boy?”
Now I was the one leaning back in my chair. I needed space all of a sudden, and Mom wasn’t helping things by inching her face closer and closer to mine. I slid my chair away from the table.
“Merry, I—”
Dad interrupted her. “Look, I don’t see any harm in Merry’s spending some time with her friend. Levi’s a great kid. Good manners, as far as I can tell.”
Mom argued. “But Merry’s only fifteen.”
Dad reached for her hand. “Darling, our daughter will be sixteen soon. It’s not like she’d be going out with some stranger. The two of them have literally grown up together. Besides, Levi’s only a year older, and he’s family, in a very distant way.”
That wasn’t good enough for Mom. “But he’s Amish. Next thing, he’ll be looking for a wife.”
Dad nodded, sneaking a wink at me. “You’re absolutely right. You’ve gotta watch those Amish boys. They ride around in those noisy courting buggies all hours of the night, snatching up pretty young things, going off to the bishop, and getting married.”
I stood up. “Marriage is the last thing on my mind!”
Mom smiled sympathetically. “You have many more years ahead of you to decide such important things.”
“So…you don’t mind, then?” I asked, looking first at Dad, then at Mom.
With true reluctance, Mom managed to utter, “I guess one time won’t hurt.”
“Promise not to tell Skip?” I said. “That is if I decide to go.”
Dad put his fingers together like a boy scout. “I promise.” He was such a tease sometimes.
I loaded the dishwasher for Mom, insisting that she relax with Dad in the living room. The Levi discussion was behind me!
Now there was only one thing left to do.
Suddenly unsure of myself, I pictured Levi working the cornfield with his mule team and cultivator, loosening the soil. Waiting for my answer.
When the kitchen was spotless, I headed outside to the gazebo. I sat on the railing, dangling my legs over the edge, facing the willow grove. I stared at the graceful trees that blocked my view of Zooks’ farm. The willows were like a barrier between the Amish world and my own.
I closed my eyes and imagined what life would’ve been like if Faithie, my twin, were still alive. She would be sitting here on the railing beside me, encouraging me not to shut Mom out the way I had…to hang on to my feelings for Jon Klein even though he’d hurt me. She would tell me to pray about going out
with Levi. And she would hug me and tell me I was her best friend.
Best friend. How I missed her!
A half hour later, the back door opened and Dad called to me, “Merry, someone’s on the phone for you.”
I leaped off the gazebo and ran into the house to the kitchen. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mer. It’s Chelsea.”
“What’s up?”
“Just thought I’d check something out.” She paused. “Look, I can’t believe this could be true, knowing you, Mer, but my mom ran into your nosy neighbor at the post office today.”
Gulp!
“Old Hawk Eyes said you and Levi were out riding in his courting buggy.”
I laughed. “That lady gets around.” Then I explained about the rain. “It was just a neighborly gesture. Really.”
“C’mon, Merry,” she persisted. “You were always so…so, uh… attracted to the guy.”
“Attracted?”
“You know how you always watch him when we ride past his house on the school bus.”
“But it’s not what you think—I mean, I’m not ready to join the Amish or anything.”
“You’re sure?”
I took a deep breath. To tell the truth, I had been toying with the thought. “Look, Chelsea,” I said. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell a single soul?”
“Now what?”
“Levi asked me to be his girlfriend.”
She gasped—and kept doing it. Finally, when she caught her breath, she said, “Are you kidding?”
I felt an overwhelming sense of confidence. Even more so than when I’d shared the news with my parents.
“What did you tell him?” She sounded dramatically serious. The way I usually sounded under similar circumstances.
“I haven’t told him anything yet,” I replied. “I was just on my way over there.”
“Oh, Merry, please don’t do anything stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“Merry, don’t be weird about this. Please.” She sounded desperate.
“You’ve never met Levi Zook, have you?”
SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 Page 25