SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1

by Beverly Lewis

  “Don’t forget we’re having that river hike Saturday,” she reminded me. “Maybe you and I can team up.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t go. My aunt and uncle are coming with their new twin babies.”

  “Lucky for you,” she said pensively. Then, “I’ve really missed you, Mer. It seems like ages since we’ve really talked.”

  “I know what you mean.” I was curious about what had happened between her and Jon, but I didn’t dare ask.

  After she left, I pulled a chair of equal height up to the big, comfortable chair, making a little bed for myself. When I had both chairs situated so I could stretch my legs out slightly, I positioned the pillows, then reached for the Bible.

  Susie and I were going to have a Bible study. She was going to know what God’s Word said about miracles.

  I propped my pillows up so I could see her from my chair-bed. My plan was to talk until I fell asleep. Maybe I’d even talk in my sleep!

  Long after midnight, the super-friendly nurse came in for a routine check. “Everyone ought to have a friend like you, Merry.” Her words were the very last thing I remembered as I fell, exhausted, into a deep sleep.

  Sometime before dawn, I awoke with a start. The Bible had slid off my lap, inching its way down against Susie’s bed. The hard edge poked into my legs.

  Drowsily, I reached for it, putting it on the table. Then I began the flow of words to Susie’s brain. “It’s almost morning, and can you believe it—I’ve been here all night! This is my very first hospital sleepover.” I chuckled to myself. “Sleepovers are supposed to be full of excitement. People aren’t really supposed to sleep at these things, you know. So, c’mon, Susie, won’tcha ple-ease wake up?” I stretched a bit, trying to get the kink out of my neck.

  Then I felt it. Something powerful. My heart beat a little too fast, and I looked over my shoulder, wondering if an angel had come to call.

  Rubbing my eyes, I heard a tiny sound. It came from Susie’s bed. My arms froze in place as I turned around.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes, half expecting to see her guardian angel.

  “Wo bin ich?” came her husky voice. “Where am I?”

  I sat up, nearly falling out of my makeshift bed of chairs.

  Chapter

  17

  “Susie! You’re back!”

  I was afraid to hug her, but I leaned over the bed, smiling, not sure what to do.

  “What happened?” she asked, sounding groggy.

  “There was an accident. But you’re going to be fine now.”

  “Come one, come all…” Her voice was weak.

  I grinned down at her blue, blue eyes. “Susie…could you hear me reading to you? Did you—”

  The door opened and the morning nurse breezed in. Her face burst into a surprised but delighted expression. “Well, what do you know!” She grinned from ear to ear, looking first at Susie, then at me.

  “This is my friend Susie Zook,” I said.

  From that moment on, there was a flurry of activity. Almost more than when Susie had been in the coma. Her Amish friends and relatives came from miles around to witness the truly amazing change in her.

  “Jah, it’s a miracle,” Grandfather Zook said later, stroking his beard. He touched Susie’s forehead lightly.

  I noticed his hand tremble as he did.

  “Well,” he continued, “you shoulda seen them fireflies last night.”

  I explained to Susie that he’d brought a jarful to keep her company.

  “Jah?” she said, eyes bright. “Ya brought ’em here? To the hospital?”

  Grandfather nodded. “Right here, child.” He showed her where the jar had sat on her chest, nearly touching her chin.

  “Ya didn’t let ’em die, didja?” she asked me.

  I spoke up. “I set them free—right out in front of the hospital.”

  A smile spread across her thin face.

  “And I read ya the last verse of my poem,” Grandfather said. He didn’t exactly sound proud, as in arrogant, but there was a hint of pleasure in his voice. “My work is done now, little one. My work is done.”

  His words gripped me. What did he mean?

  “I wanna hear what you wrote, Grossdawdy,” Susie said. “Can ya say it by heart?”

  Grandfather reached into his black coat. “My mind’s not what it used to be.” He unfolded the paper, and I saw it shake as he began to read. “’Tis the night of the fireflies, ’Tis the night of God’s call. Dusk comes and is gone, and now…true light shines on us all.”

  Susie’s face shone. “It’s so-o pretty!”

  He smiled. “It’s your poem, child. ’Tis for you.”

  A soft, distant look crept into her eyes. “I had a dream about beautiful lights. Lights…everywhere.”

  I thought of the many Bible verses I’d read about God’s light. Maybe Susie had heard my words.

  Be strong and take courage. The words buzzed in my head as I left Susie’s room. Filled with absolute delight, I headed down the hall to call my mother. In spite of the excitement, I knew I was worn out. My adrenaline was depleted; it was time to go home.

  Susie would be coming home, too. Sooner than anyone ever expected.

  “What a wonderful thing for you to witness firsthand,” Mom said as she drove away from the hospital. She was cheerful and full of questions.

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” I said. “Somehow I knew that I was supposed to be with Susie last night. And when she woke up…it was so-o incredible. It was the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “In your whole life?” Mom was smiling.

  “In my whole, entire life!”

  Mom was dressed up—her best white summer suit and pumps. I wondered if she was headed somewhere important. But when I asked her about it, she said she was celebrating life.

  “Me too!” Actually, I couldn’t wait to get home to SummerHill Lane. I needed a shower and a change of clothes. I’d been wearing the same ones way too long.

  Mom came into my bedroom to chat after I was dressed. Honestly, it was like old times. The tension between us had disappeared. She was relaxed about everything. Even when I told her Levi’s plans to attend a Bible school. She didn’t second-guess me the way she’d been doing the past few months.

  “Guess we’ve all seen it coming,” she said about Levi.

  I cuddled both Abednego and Lily White. “For as long as I remember, he’s been pushing the rules over there.” I glanced out my bedroom window.

  It was truly good to be home. The smell of the country and the sounds—it sure beat the hospital all to pieces!

  “It’s good to have you here, Merry,” Mom said. The way she said it made me wonder. Had Susie’s accident changed things for everyone?

  Susie came home on Friday, and the next day my aunt and uncle arrived with their six-week-old twins, my new cousins, Benjamin and Rebekah.

  Miss Spindler showed up for the occasion. Her blue-gray kink of hair was done up all prissylike. “Oh, aren’t they the most adorable little precious things ever!” she exclaimed when she saw the babies.

  They were precious all right. Baby Benjamin wore the tiniest blue suit I’d ever seen. Petite Rebekah was dressed in one of Faithie’s fanciest pink lace dresses—looking like a real live doll.

  Mom took Rebekah from Aunt Teri, and Uncle Pete placed Benjamin in Miss Spindler’s skinny arms. I stood back, observing Uncle Pete as he began signing rapidly for my deaf aunt’s benefit. She broke into a big smile as Mom and Miss Spindler oohed and ahhed over her darling babies.

  I don’t know why, but it took me several hours before I could get it together enough to hold them. I’d heard it was important to feel truly confident when holding an infant, and I certainly didn’t feel that way now. Their teensy bodies, so fragile and delicate, could fall right through my fingers.

  So for my first encounter with Ben and Becky, I sat on the living room sofa and held them. One at a time.

  I half expected my new bab
y cousins to cut loose crying when they sensed my uncertainty, but thank goodness, both of them slept right through their initial visit with me.

  After lunch, I called Chelsea Davis to see if she was back from her Disneyland vacation. When Lissa Vyner answered, I was completely thrown off.

  “Uh…is Chelsea there?”

  “Oh, hi, Merry,” Lissa said, recognizing my voice. “Just a sec.”

  Chelsea got right on the phone. “What’s up, Mer?”

  “How was California?” I asked.

  “Hot, hot, and guess what?”

  “You met a guy,” I replied.

  “How’d you know?”

  “I have my ways,” I said secretively.

  “Well, how are you and Levi?” she asked.

  “You won’t believe everything that’s happened.” I filled her in on Susie’s accident and miraculous recovery.

  “Really? She pulled out of it, just like that?”

  “Well, it wasn’t really all that fast. I mean, she was out for almost three days.”

  “Man, I’d hate to think what I’d be missin’ being stuck in the hospital that long,” Chelsea said.

  “Wouldn’t we all,” I whispered.

  “By the way,” she continued, “what’s the deal with Jon Klein?”

  “Better ask Lissa.”

  “She’s not saying much. Are they—”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So does that mean you and—”

  “Don’t say anything! Promise me?” I said.

  “Yeah, okay. But you better hurry and snag that boy before Ashley Horton does. I saw her eyeing him at the river hike today.”

  “You went on our church hike?” This was unbelievable!

  “Now, don’t go getting all excited,” she said.

  It’s a beginning, I thought, thrilled that my atheist friend had found her way to a church activity.

  “Well, so what do you think?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  “About Ashley, your pastor’s daughter? Does she have a chance with Jon or not?”

  I honestly thought Ashley was a thing of the past. At least for Jon. “Probably not,” I said.

  Chelsea started laughing. “So…sounds to me like you’re still interested in you-know-who?”

  “Aw, Chelsea, for pete’s sake.” I groaned. “Is Lissa hearing all this?”

  “She’s in the kitchen raiding our cookie jar. Mom made brownies this morning.”

  “Bring some over,” I teased.

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Hey, you’ve gotta see my baby cousins,” I said.

  “Oh, so now you tell me!”

  I peeked around the corner at the portable bassinets in the dining room. “They’re sound asleep, but they’ll be waking up soon to nurse.

  You should come see them before my aunt and uncle leave.”

  “Lissa too?”

  “Sure, that’d be great.” I went on to explain that Lissa and I had made up at the hospital.

  Chelsea was confused. “What was she doing there?”

  “Trust me, it’s fine.”

  I happened to glance out the window as I hung up the phone. Looked like a parade of buggies parked next door. Was there a work frolic going on?

  Stepping out on the back steps, I strained my neck to see, but the willows blocked the Zook house from view. Still, the lineup of buggies and all the people made me wonder.

  Surely, Rachel would’ve invited me if they were having something special for Susie. But it wasn’t like the Amish to throw parties. Unless…

  Fear clutched my throat. “Mom!” I raced inside.

  Mom was sipping iced tea at the kitchen table with Uncle Pete. “Mom,” I said softly. “Can you come outside a sec?”

  I guided her out to the backyard.

  “Look.” I pointed to the Zooks’ front yard and their long dirt lane. “Have you ever seen so many buggies?”

  Mom frowned. “I hope Susie’s all right.”

  “Me too!”

  We both heard the phone ring, and Mom rushed inside to get it. In a few minutes, she was back outside, standing in the grass beside me. “Honey, that was Miss Spindler calling. She just saw the Amish funeral director drive away.”

  My hand flew to my mouth. “No! Not Susie!”

  Chapter

  18

  I ran faster than ever before down SummerHill Lane and through the willow grove. Over the picket fence and into the meadow.

  My heart pounded ninety miles an hour. Susie…Susie…Susie.

  The Amish expected visitors to enter the house without knocking at a time like this. I caught my breath as I stepped through the front door and surveyed the large gathering of Plain folk. The partition between the large living room and the kitchen had been removed, and relatives and friends were seated in a wide circle of somber faces.

  Women scurried around in the kitchen, all of them dressed in black—washing dishes and busy with food preparations. Men were seated, silent and resigned. Only an occasional word was spoken by Abe Zook, who invited me to join the others.

  Soon, Rachel came in and sat beside me on the wooden bench, briefly touching my hand. Her face was solemn and pale.

  My throat was dry, too dry to speak. I coughed down the tears. “What happened?” I whispered. “What went wrong?”

  “He died in his sleep.”

  “He ?”

  “Grossdawdy,” she said softly. “He sat down in his rocking chair after lunch and…was…gone.”

  I was overcome with emotion. Grandfather Zook? How could it be? I thought back to how he had come to the hospital Tuesday night…read his poem to Susie and…and…

  Then I remembered his trembling hands. The way he’d said that his work was done.

  My heart ached, remembering how I’d embraced the old gentleman. Overwhelmed, I let the news slowly soak in. Little Susie was alive…Jacob Zook was dead.

  “He wanted to die at home,” Rachel whispered. “If it was to be, it’s best this way.”

  I nodded, my brain hazy. “How’s Susie?”

  “She’s resting upstairs. Wanna see her?”

  I nodded, and we tiptoed through the sitting room to the steep wooden stairs. When we arrived in Susie’s room, she glanced up from her bed.

  A smile swept across her rosy-cheeked face. “When are we gonna catch fireflies again, Merry?”

  I hurried to her and smoothed the handmade quilt at the foot of the maple bed. “As soon as you feel better.”

  “I’m gut, really I am,” she insisted. “Mam wants me to rest up so I can go to Grossdawdy’s funeral.”

  I looked at Rachel. “When will it be?”

  “Monday.” She folded her hands and stared at the floor.

  Susie pleaded, “Oh, Merry, you must come.”

  “Sh-h!” Rachel warned. “Keep your voice down.”

  Susie nodded her head slowly, looking repentant.

  Rachel moved across the uneven floor to a framed piece on the wall above the bed. Carefully, she took it off the nail and showed it to me.

  It was the firefly poem, beautifully framed in solid pine. “Your grandfather made this?” I stroked the wood, feeling its silklike smoothness.

  Rachel nodded. “After breakfast Grossdawdy was out in the barn hand-rubbing the wood.”

  I studied the poem, written in Jacob Zook’s own hand. “ ‘Night of the Fireflies,’ ” I said thoughtfully. “He finished it just in time.”

  “Read the last verse to me,” Susie said, leaning forward slightly.

  I turned the framed poem so she could see it. Pointing to each word, I began, “’Tis the night of the fireflies, ’Tis the night of God’s call. Dusk comes and is gone, and now…True light shines on us all.”

  Tears filled Susie’s eyes as she chanted the refrain. “Come one, come all, to the firefly ball…”

  Suddenly, Rachel’s face grew serious. “Ach! Grossdawdy must’ve known.” She peered over my shoulder. “Look, it says, ‘’Tis the n
ight of God’s call.’ ”

  It was hard to put into words, but looking at the last verse, it almost seemed that Grandfather Zook had known—that he was preparing us.

  After a silent moment, Susie spoke. “I like this line best.” She pointed to the last line. “ ‘True light shines on us all.’ ”

  “Jah,” Rachel whispered. “Jah.”

  Three different clocks chimed nine times in the Zooks’ house on Monday morning. When the last clock stopped, the Amish bishop removed his hat. At once, all the other Amishmen took off their straw hats in a swift, precise motion.

  Benches had been placed parallel to the length of each of the three large rooms. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were packed with nearly two hundred fifty people, as many as had attended Curly John and Sarah’s wedding last November. They, along with the other Zook family members, sat facing the unpainted pine coffin at the end of the living room with their backs to the ministers.

  I noticed Esther glance at Susie once during the thirty-minute first sermon. The speaker made reference to the fact that God had spoken to us through the death of a brother.

  “We do not wish our brother Jacob back, but rather we shall prepare to follow after this departed one. His voice no longer is heard amongst us. His hand is absent at the plow; his presence—’tis no longer felt. His bed is empty, his chair…”

  I tuned the minister out. Hearing the way these people solemnly accepted the death of this dear, dear man made me even sadder than his passing. Where were the words of comfort, the words describing his beautiful, joyous life? The joy, the love he’d passed to others? The way he loved God?

  Fidgeting slightly, I wondered how Levi felt about all this now. Was he feeling the pain, too?

  A second minister stood to his feet and began to say that a call from heaven, a loud call, had come to this very assembly. “The holy Scriptures admonish each one of us to be ready to meet our death. We do not know when it is that our own time will come, but most important—we must be ready!”