“Wait, Levi—don’t say anything! Please!” I had to stall him. There was no way I was ready to be proposed to—not two months away from turning sixteen. Sure, if I were Amish, maybe a guy might soon ask me such a question, but I’d made it clear to Levi that I was years away from that. Or so I’d thought.
“There’s nothin’ to worry about, Merry,” he said, his voice mellow and sweet. “I would never wanna hurt you. You see, I love ya, Merry. Plain and simple. Always have.”
He sounded terribly convincing, even without a full moon to enhance the setting. Sincerity and honesty were two of Levi’s many good traits. And the way he looked, wearing modern clothes—dressed like my own brother or any other boy in town—made me more inclined to want to believe him.
I started to speak, but his finger gently touched my lips. “You don’t have to say it back. We have lots of time ahead of us.”
“Time?”
“I want some more book learning. Maybe I’ll go to a Bible college somewheres. But I will not be a farmer.”
“What will your parents say? How long can you live at home?” I worried that he was deciding things too quickly.
“Mam and Dat already know some of this,” he explained.
“Rachel too?”
“Jah, Rachel…and my other sisters and brothers.”
“You know, Rachel thinks I’m to blame for this. Can’t you explain the reasons why you want to leave? It would help things between Rachel and me if you did.”
“I can if she’ll believe me.”
“Please don’t quit trying,” I pleaded. “It’s important for me to have her as my friend. Little Susie, too.”
He smiled, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “Susie loves ya, Merry,” he said. “She thinks you’re her special playmate—her firefly friend.”
I remembered the dimple in her left cheek and the similarities between her and my twin, Faithie. “I love her, too.”
He leaned back against the lattice frame. “I s’pose she’ll wanna read lots more books than Mam and Dat can offer. Just like her big brother.”
I told him what she’d already said about wishing there were more books in the house.
“I think maybe Susie and I are cut from the same cloth.” We talked awhile longer, then he pulled some keys out of his pocket.
“Wanna go for a little spin?”
I gasped. “You have a car?”
“A couple of my cousins and I went together and bought a real nice one.”
My heart sank. “Won’t this bring more trouble for you?”
He didn’t respond to my question, jingling his car keys instead. The sound brought Abednego, my fat black cat, out from under the gazebo. “Here, kitty, kitty,” Levi called.
Abednego arched his back, showing instant dislike.
“Don’t mind him,” I said. “Abednego has an obvious disdain for most all of the human male species.”
He chuckled, then changed the subject. “Shouldn’t ya ask your parents’ permission to go for a ride?”
I knew he’d gotten his driver’s license, but I was also familiar with the way he handled a horse and buggy. “I don’t call you Zap ’em Zook for nothing,” I said, laughing.
He didn’t seem to mind the joke. “We won’t go too far up SummerHill,” he coaxed.
“I better not, Levi.” Then I asked, “Are you still running around with that wild bunch of boys?”
“I’ve sowed my wild oats, Merry. More and more I go to Bible studies at my Mennonite friends’ house.”
I knew some of the Amish didn’t allow independent study of the Bible. They viewed the bishop as the dispenser of spiritual wisdom and truth. And certain Scriptures were used as examples over and over in the preaching services, often to the exclusion of others.
“I wanna know more. I…” He paused. “I wanna be a preacher, Merry, a minister of the Gospel.”
Levi, a preacher? I thought. How truly exciting!
I wanted to hug Levi, but I only squeezed his hand. “That’s wonderful,” I said.
“The Bible, it’s so plain about showin’ the way,” he said with shining eyes. “I wanna share the Good News with everyone I meet!”
I leaped up out of my chair. “Go into all the world and tell the good news. You’re following the Lord’s command, ‘Reverend’ Levi Zook!”
He chuckled. “Merry Hanson, you’ll make a fine preacher’s wife someday.”
“That’s what you think,” I said, laughing.
Chapter
9
The next day was Sunday.
Lissa and Jon sat together during Sunday school and church as if they were a regular couple. It was becoming less difficult for me to see them together, maybe because they were always together. Still, sometimes I missed Jon—and our secret alliteration game.
During the singing, I thought about Levi and the long talk we’d had last night. He seemed determined to follow God’s plan for his life.
I remembered the verse in Second Chronicles that Dad had read to me: “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged.”
Now that Levi had a goal in mind, he seemed stronger than ever. I liked unwavering strength in a guy. But…I also liked Jon Klein and the way we’d hit it off during our junior-high years together. Why did things have to be so complicated?
After church, Jon and Lissa came up to me in the parking lot. Lissa was all ears—eyes, too—when Jon asked if I was ready for the Alliteration Challenge.
I gulped, trying to hide my delight and surprise. “Are you serious?”
“When’s a good time for you?” he asked.
“I’m out of practice,” I told him, nearly dying of embarrassment as Lissa’s eyes started to bulge. “Maybe we should wait.”
“What’re you talking about?” Lissa demanded.
He still hadn’t told her!
“It’s, uh…” Jon glanced at me, his eyes begging for assistance.
“It’s just a thing,” I blurted.
Lissa’s eyes widened. “A thing? Like what thing?”
I had no intention of filling her in on Jon’s and my private word game. But it was Jon’s problem now—he’d gotten it started. I stared at him, hoping he’d take my lead and say something amazing to appease his girlfriend.
He tried to explain. “You know how some friends have inside jokes?” He sounded terribly patronizing. “Well”—and here he glanced at me with the most endearing look—“Merry and I have an inside game, I guess you could call it.”
“Merry and you?” she echoed.
Jon nodded. “It’s just something we—Merry and I—do.”
I could see this vague explanation wasn’t going to suit Lissa at all. She whirled around and stormed across the parking lot, not looking back.
“Uh, maybe that wasn’t the best approach,” I said, slightly concerned. “She’s obviously upset.”
The corner of his mouth wrinkled up, and I suspected that he’d set this up on purpose. “Lissa doesn’t understand that people can have more than one good friend at a time,” he said.
I noted that he’d almost said girlfriend!
“Well, I hope she gets over it,” I said.
“Say that with all e’s!” he teased.
“Okay, I will.” I paused to think, feeling lousy about Lissa leaving like that. Seconds passed, then it came to me. “Eventually, endurance evolves to an end.”
Jon wore a quizzical expression. “Huh?”
“I told you I was out of practice!”
“That wasn’t so bad, really.” He flashed his wonderful smile. “Just didn’t make any sense.”
“I’m sorry about what happened just now with Lissa.”
He shrugged as though it wasn’t something to worry about. “She gets overpossessive sometimes.”
I struggled with mixed emotions. It was exciting being with Jon again—like old times. The passion for words was still strong between us. But Lissa was also my friend, and I’d played a big role in making her
very upset.
After dinner, Lissa called. “Why were you flirting with Jon like that?” She sounded more accusing than interested in a genuine answer.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, making an attempt at courtesy. “I didn’t think I was flirting.”
“C’mon, Merry, you were!”
I sighed. “Well, I guess if you say so, then I was.”
“So…you’re admitting it?”
“Isn’t that what you want to hear?” Frustration was a way of life with this girl!
She exhaled into the phone. “What I want is for you to stay away from Jon. He’s my guy, and that’s the way it’s gonna stay.”
“Well, I understand how you feel, Lissa. I’m really sorry you misunderstood. And I’m sorry about hanging up on you yesterday.
Honest.” I must’ve sounded a tad too sweet, even though I meant to be sincere.
Anyway, my words obviously backfired on me—now it was her turn to hang up on me. Except Lissa didn’t simply hang up. She slammed down the phone.
What was going on? Was Lissa really and truly afraid of losing Jon? And if so, why?
Chapter
10
The Sunday evening service was canceled so people could spend time with their families since it was the night before the Fourth.
Dad knew he would probably be busy in the ER tomorrow. More accidents happened on a big holiday than at any other time, he often said. Kids mishandling firecrackers, people drinking and driving. He’d be working all day tomorrow. That’s how it was when your dad was the head honcho—the best—on a city hospital trauma team.
Dad was stretched out on his chaise lounge in the shade of the gazebo. He was taking it real easy this afternoon. Two bluebirds and three sparrows sparred over who got dibs on the birdbath in our side yard.
Things were quiet. Peaceful. Skip was out on a date with Nikki Klein, playing badminton at her house. Made me wonder if Lissa and Jon were making it a foursome. I tried not to think about them, though. Lissa’s response to my apology was troubling. I wondered how I could patch things up with her.
Mom was taking her usual Sunday afternoon walk. She liked to walk briskly several times a week. Did it like clockwork—especially on Sundays after dinner. The steep jaunt up Strawberry Lane, the road behind our house, was a workout for anyone, fit or not.
“It’s good for her,” Dad said, reaching for his iced tea. “Gets her heart rate up.”
“What about you, Dad?” I sipped on a tall glass of lemonade. “Shouldn’t you be exercising, too?”
He agreed with me. “Guess I’m getting old and worn out, though. Sometimes it’s easier to take a nap, especially on a hot afternoon.”
I poked him playfully. “Oh, Daddy, you’re not that old.”
“The big five-o is coming up fast,” he said, looking serious. Too serious.
“Oh, so what. Fifty’s just another number.” I hoped that would cheer him up. Lately, it seemed every time he mentioned his age, a cautious look crossed his face. It made me feel uneasy.
Later, we talked about Amish doctrine and how it was different from our beliefs. When Dad was close to dozing off, I mentioned Levi’s interest in becoming a preacher.
His eyes popped open. “Levi Zook?”
“Yep.”
“Well, if that doesn’t take the cake!”
“Will it be tough for him—leaving the Amish eventually?”
“Not nearly as hard as if he’d gone along with baptism and then left. This way, he’ll always have the fellowship of his family and friends. He won’t have to suffer the shunning.”
I was relieved. Levi didn’t need the stress of abandonment along with everything else. We talked more about Amish life and their tradition. Then, during a lull in the conversation, I glanced at Dad and noticed he’d given in to an afternoon nap.
That’s when I went for a walk. I decided my heart needed stimulation, too. Even though I was only pushing sixteen!
Many more cars were driving up and down SummerHill today than usual. Tons of tourists were in Lancaster County for the Fourth. And by the looks of the traffic, lots of them had discovered the best views of Amish farmland were out here off the beaten tracks.
Halfway down the road, past the willow grove and near the Zooks’ lane, two cars pulled over. Several people got out carrying pocket cameras. I could spot out-of-state tourists almost instantly by their throw-away cameras and the way they dressed. Especially the middle-aged men—floral-patterned Bermuda-length shorts and knee socks with sandals were a dead giveaway.
One tourist had a video camera. I watched out of the corner of my eye as I walked along the opposite side of the road. The man with the camcorder started moving slowly across the road, zeroing in on the large wagon-wheel mailbox at the end of Zooks’ lane. The closer I got to him, the more upset I became.
Then I heard Susie Zook calling my name. “Merry!” Somehow she had sneaked up on me and was running toward me. She came barefoot, the narrow white tie strings on her Kapp flying.
I shouted to her, “Quick, cover your face!”
It was too late—the heartless tourist aimed his camera right at my friend.
I ran over and stood in front of her. “Take my picture if you have to.”
“Move away there, missy,” he said, motioning me aside. “Just one more quick shot of the little Amish girl won’t hurt anything.”
I felt Susie’s arms slip around my waist. And for one fleeting moment I remembered another day, another time, when Faithie had put her arms around me this way.
We had been posing for pictures while riding a white pony. It was our seventh birthday, and Faithie was terribly frightened. She’d clung to me, with her arms around my waist….
“Go away!” I yelled at the tourist. “These people are not zoo animals. They’re human beings!”
The man lowered his camera, staring at me. He reached into the pocket of his floral-patterned Bermudas and pulled out a wad of dollar bills. “Well, here, maybe this’ll change your mind.”
Susie’s arms tightened around me.
“Go away, please!” I said. But the man kept coming toward us. Closer…and closer.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid.
Susie and I inched backward a few steps at a time, but there was no convincing this guy. He wasn’t simply a rude tourist—he was downright mean!
Just then, I saw a jazzy red sports car flying down SummerHill, headed right for the cameraman. The way the car zigzagged on the road was enough to scare tourists out of the county—and right out of their Bermuda shorts!
“Yee-ikes!” I cried, pointing. “That’s our neighbor. She can’t drive worth beans!”
The man jumped the ditch and dashed to the other side of the road, wearing a look of terror. Not to be defeated, Old Hawk Eyes bore down on him.
It was clear as anything—Ruby Spindler was up to her old spying tricks. Somehow she’d seen exactly what was going on out here. She had come to rescue us!
Abruptly, she braked her car, sending billowy clouds of dust into the air. Then, jumping out of the driver’s seat, the old lady—with cell phone in hand—ran over to the guy with the camcorder. “Lookee here, mister,” she squawked. “I don’t know what yer business is, but as far as I can tell, you’ve been trespassing on private property.” She glanced over at me, still hiding Susie. “Now I’m tellin’ you—git!”
She backed up her words by dialing 9-1-1, reporting a harassment inches away from the tourist. It was as in-your-face as you get! And by the time she started to give pertinent information, the intruders had sped off down SummerHill.
Susie crept out from behind me. “You saved us,” she cried. “Oh, Old Hawk—”
“Uh…Miss Spindler, you were amazing,” I interrupted.
“How’s every little thing here now?” she asked Susie, leaning over to shake her hand. “Are you gonna be all right, darlin’?”
Susie nodded. “They were making Schpott of me, jah?”
“Not anymore, they won’t make fun,” Ruby Spindler said. “Not anymore, no indeedy!”
I stared in amazement at Old Hawk Eyes. Everyone knew she was a full-fledged busybody, but there was clearly another side to her. A very caring, almost parental side. I could hardly wait to report this aspect of her personality to Dad.
Much later, after the tourist ordeal was behind us, Mom decided to serve a light supper outside in the gazebo. Dad had slept the afternoon away, and Mom, fresh from her long walk and a shower, carried out a huge tray of chicken-salad sandwiches. There was potato salad made my favorite way with diced dill pickles, and a strawberry Jell-O mold with peaches hiding inside. Dad had to have his iced tea in a giant-sized tumbler, so I ran indoors for more ice and a pitcherful of tea.
I told my family about the adventure—about hiding Susie from the tourists and discovering the nurturing side to Miss Spindler. “It was actually scary there for a while,” I said. “Old Hawk Eyes saved the day.”
Skip snickered. “Man, what a snoop!”
“I have no idea how she does it—how she sees so far.”
“It’s gotta be some high-powered telescope set up in her bedroom,” Skip said, pointing at her house in the distance. “Hey, we should all wave at her right now and freak her out.”
“Skip Hanson, don’t you dare!” Mom reprimanded.
“Don’t worry,” he said, reaching for three sandwich halves. “But I bet anything she’s watching us.”
I stole a glance at the old house. Wondering…
We bowed our heads for prayer. And while Dad blessed the food, I prayed silently for Lissa.
Later, during dessert, Susie Zook showed up at the gazebo. “Can Merry play?” she asked my mom.
“Of course,” Mom said, winking at me. “As soon as she’s finished cleaning up the kitchen.”
“I’ll do the dishes,” Dad volunteered. “You two run along.”
I spied the canning jars in Susie’s hands. “Are we going to catch fireflies again tonight?”
“Lightning bugs,” she insisted, grinning. One of her front teeth was missing.
SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 Page 32