Anna's Healing

by Vannetta Chapman

  Sally sat quietly. She didn’t smile, and she avoided looking directly at them.

  Chloe guessed that the younger woman was about her age, probably in her early to mid-thirties. Around her, scattered throughout the sitting room floor, were four youngsters in addition to the one she was holding. The oldest boy proudly proclaimed himself four years old by holding up the corresponding number of fingers. The twins were in the middle at age two and a half, and there was another toddler that looked to be a year, if that.

  Five children under five years of age. Chloe couldn’t imagine.

  Naomi had gray in her hair and a few extra pounds around her middle. She was the quintessential grandmother, and Chloe’s fingers itched to pull out her camera and snap a few photos. She didn’t, of course. She understood the rules. Naomi had a slow, genuine smile that lit up her face.

  But there was a profound sadness about Sally. Her expression was grave, and she only interacted with them if asked a direct question. Her face was drawn tight, perhaps owing to her thinness. Dark circles under her eyes indicated she wasn’t receiving nearly enough sleep.

  Naomi corralled the twins toward the kitchen table, where she placed crayons and sheets of paper. Bending down, she asked the oldest, the four-year-old, to watch over his baby brothers.

  “Don’t let them eat the crayons,” she reminded the boy as she turned back toward her guests.

  “I apologize if this is a bad time.” Chloe couldn’t imagine a good time. Maybe in six years when they were all in school?

  “One time is as gut as any other,” Naomi assured her, walking her guests to a back porch that had been converted into another sitting area. Two chairs were positioned by the windows with a small table between them. On the table was a checkerboard. The room was full of sunshine and warmth. Chloe found herself wishing Sally would come out with them, but she’d said she needed to finish nursing the baby.

  Naomi was bustling about, opening the back door to let in the breeze and raising one of the shades to allow even more sunshine into the room. “Sally has other kinner who are older and in school now. It’s a bit busier when they’re home, though they are gut helpers. When they’re gone for the day, the house seems somewhat quiet and empty. Sally and I are ready to see them by the time they return in the afternoon.”

  Chloe glanced at Anna, who waved four fingers at her.

  They had four more at school? That made for nine.

  “You look surprised.” Naomi smiled and patted Chloe’s arm. “Nine kinner is not unusual for an Amish family.”

  “So I’m learning.”

  In a corner of the room was a full-sized bed, and Naomi motioned toward it. “Here’s where we keep the quilts. We don’t have closets in our homes, and this is an easy way to show the quilts to Englischers who stop by.”

  On the top of the bed was a sheet, which Naomi removed and folded. Under it was a quilt that looked plain until Chloe stepped closer to examine it.

  “This is a polished cream double wedding ring quilt,” Naomi explained.

  “It’s stunning. And this was all done by hand?”

  “Ya. None of the women in our district use treadle machines, though some Amish do.” Naomi folded back the top quilt, revealing another off-white quilt, but this one was designed with black squares set off diagonally. “This is a black-and-cream nine patch.”

  Chloe glanced at Anna, who smiled and turned to Naomi. “Chloe would like to take a picture of the quilt with her phone if that’s okay with you.”

  Naomi’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m afraid that would be quite prideful of me. Though I enjoy the work Sally and I do, and I’m grateful we are able to do it, I wouldn’t want to be bragging about it.”

  “We’ve visited several homes today, and all of the quilts have been lovely. I’d like to list your address in a sidebar, and perhaps that will bring more people out to see what you have for sale.”

  “Listing our address would be all right, I suppose.”

  “How about if I include a few photographs but don’t put your name beside the photos?”

  Sally had finished feeding her youngest and was now standing in the doorway of the little back room. “I saw photos of Rebecca Byler’s shop in the paper once. It was a few years ago.”

  “I suppose it’s okay with our bishop then.” Naomi reached forward and pulled back the next quilt, revealing another of the same pattern, but this one was pastel blue and cream. “All right. As long as you don’t mention my name—only the family name to the side, where you list our address. That would be allowed, I’m sure. Rather like an ad.”

  “Ya, except this advertisement will be free,” Anna said brightly.

  In all, Naomi and Sally had twenty-two quilts for sale, a staggering number in Chloe’s opinion.

  She’d taken pictures of three of them and hoped that Eric would agree to run the photos with her piece and the sidebar with driving directions.

  Naomi invited them to stay for tea, but it seemed to Chloe the woman had her hands full. Sally had returned to her rocker, still holding her baby and staring off into the distance.

  They said their goodbyes, with both Chloe and Anna thanking them.

  Though the home had been clean and orderly, Chloe took in a deep breath when they walked outside. There was an oppressive atmosphere in Naomi’s home, something Chloe couldn’t quite put her finger on. She waited until they were once again on the main road, and then she began to pepper Anna with questions.

  CHAPTER 14

  Anna wasn’t surprised Chloe had a lot of questions.

  “So many children. Is that normal? If so, when do they find the time to quilt?” They were once again traveling through Cody’s Creek, headed back to Anna’s. “As you said, there’s plenty of work to do on a farm, and with all of those babies…”

  “Ya, but quilting is one of the ways we relax.” She pulled one of the strings from her prayer kapp forward and fiddled with it. “What do you do when you go home in the evening?”

  “Microwave a dinner, watch some television, and maybe work a little.”

  “We can’t bring the field work into the house at night, we don’t watch television, and we never microwave dinners.”

  “Cooking for all of those people and then doing the dishes by hand?” Chloe gave a fake shudder. “That must take forever.”

  “Hardly. Remember, we have lots of little helpers.”

  “Huh.”

  “But my point is that our evenings are very different from yours. There’s not much to do after dinner other than sit on the porch or play a game of checkers. Maybe read a little, though most Amish only read the Budget.”

  “You read other things. I saw the book you had tucked under the receipt pad at your produce stand.”

  Anna’s face warmed, but she laughed along with Chloe. “I do like to read the occasional story, and no one mentions it because I’m relatively young and unmarried. But Englisch newspapers? Few Amish read those.”

  “I’m offended.”

  “Ya, I thought you might be.”

  “Surely you can sell subscriptions of my paper to your neighbors.”

  It seemed funny to Anna that she didn’t have to wonder if Chloe was kidding. She knew her that well after only a few times together.

  “So quilting is a nice way to rest.”

  “It doesn’t sound restful.”

  “Many Amish women also work on a quilt at odd moments during the day. Remember when we went by Mary Beth’s?”

  “She’s the bishop’s wife?”

  “Ya. She keeps a quilt on a stand in the corner of her sitting room. That way, if she has a free half hour, it’s easy enough to take a break and quilt a bit.”

  “You’re suggesting that if I gave up television, I could learn to quilt?”

  “Probably anyone can learn, but not everyone is as talented as Mary Beth or Naomi.”

  “And you?”

  “My mamm taught me well enough, but my mind often wanders. It’s not unusual for
me to find I’ve sewn the wrong two pieces together.”

  “Great!”

  Anna looked at her in surprise. “Great?”

  “Yes. There are at least two of us in Mayes County who aren’t quilters.”

  She pulled into the lane and followed the gravel road to the side of the house. Before Anna could hop out, Chloe reached over and stayed her with a touch to the arm.

  “What was wrong with Sally? Why was she so… sad?”

  Anna removed her hand from the door handle and placed it in her lap. “It happened before I arrived, in June. Sally had the twins—”

  “Twins?”

  “Her second set. Ya, but one, a little girl, didn’t make it.”

  “She died?”

  “The doctors assured Sally that it wasn’t the midwife’s fault. They said whether Sally had been at a hospital or at home, the baby would not have been born breathing. Apparently, it had not developed correctly.”

  Chloe thought about that a minute. “All the children I saw were boys.”

  “They were, and the older ones are as well. The one who died was her first girl.”

  “That’s so sad, Anna.”

  Instead of reminding her that it was Gotte’s wille, Anna opened the door of the car and climbed out.

  She gave Chloe a little wave goodbye and started toward the porch, but she turned when she heard the window of the car slide down. Chloe called out to her, so she walked back.

  “I don’t visit my mother nearly enough.” Chloe was leaning across the seat, so she could see her better. “My mom’s a quilter too.”

  “Is she now?”

  “It’s a different kind of quilting, but you might find the things she makes interesting. We could go and see her next Tuesday if you want. Same time?”

  Anna pretended to hesitate, crossing her arms and tapping her right index finger against her lips. “It seems that… I might be free next Tuesday afternoon. Ya, I suppose I am.”

  Chloe laughed. “Thanks for checking your schedule. I’ll see you then.”

  She made a three-point turn, and then she started back down the driveway. As Anna stood and watched her, Chloe stuck a hand out the window and waved.

  She had an Englisch friend.

  She hadn’t ever considered such a thing, but she supposed it was—as her aenti was apt to say—Gotte’s wille.

  Which might be the best thing that had happened to her since moving to Oklahoma.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jacob never intended to show up in Mayes County, Oklahoma. His plan had been to keep moving south, slowly curving toward Florida. If he’d written out a travel route, it would have been something like Kansas to Missouri, then Arkansas to Tennessee. From there he could work his way through Georgia and on to Florida. He’d never envisioned Oklahoma in his future.

  But the situation at Saul Yoder’s had thrown a hitch in his buggy, figuratively speaking. He didn’t actually own a buggy, but his mind and emotions were still reeling from what had happened. He had walked out of the meeting with the bishop, picked up his single bag, which he’d left on the front porch, and headed to town. To give Saul credit, the man had stopped him before he reached the end of the lane.

  “I stand by any decisions made by my bishop.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “He’s a fair man.”

  Jacob didn’t answer that. Was the bishop a fair man? Maybe, but it seemed that he’d landed on the wrong side of the situation with Miguel Garza. Jacob wouldn’t attempt to argue that, though. There was no point, and he could see it in the set of Saul’s jaw. He’d expected as much. What he hadn’t anticipated was the look of misery and compassion in the older man’s eyes.

  “You saved a young man from harm.” Saul looked incredibly older to Jacob, older than the day he’d picked him up near the bus station. He had aged in the last few days, a fact evident in the extra lines around his eyes and the slope of his shoulders, as if the world had suddenly become a weightier place. He set a weathered hand on Jacob’s arm. “I can’t be approving of what you did, but I love you for it.”

  With those words, he turned and began walking back to his house.

  Jacob called out before he was three yards away. “Gotte’s blessing on your family, Saul.”

  “And you as well, Jacob.”

  The walk into town had been an easier trek because of those words of grace and forgiveness shared between the two. But when Jacob reached the bus ticket booth, he had no idea where he was going.

  “Pick a direction,” the middle-aged Englisch woman had said, a look of amusement on her face.

  “South,” he’d muttered.

  Without any other question, the woman had printed out a ticket to Oklahoma.

  Fair enough. What other Amish settlement was south of Kansas? None that he knew of. He’d temporarily forgotten that his ultimate destination for the winter was Florida.

  Feeling suddenly exhausted, he had boarded the bus and scrunched down on a seat that had no one near it. He’d pulled down the brim of his hat to cover his eyes, pushed away any thoughts of the last several days, and slept most of the trip.

  When he’d awakened he was rested but completely disoriented. Where had the woman with the short gray hair sent him? Oklahoma?

  A sign across the street proclaimed “Tulsa Pawn and Loan Shop.”

  Tulsa, Oklahoma. What would he do in a city the size of Tulsa? Situated on the Arkansas River, the area boasted more than a million people. Jacob had spent some time in large urban areas before. He couldn’t claim to like it very much, and he certainly didn’t want to be there during harvest. He needed to be working out in the fields.

  He spent three nights at a local mission that provided housing for those in need. One of the counselors informed him that there were only two Amish communities in Oklahoma—one in Cody’s Creek, an hour to the east. The other was in Clarita, more than two hours to the south.

  “It’s quite small.”

  They were sitting at one of the long tables where volunteers had served dinner an hour earlier. Jacob had insisted on working to pay for his room and board, but he realized this was not a place he wanted to stay, so he’d sought out the counselor.

  “Exactly how small is Clarita?”

  “It’s a one-church district.” The older man rubbed a hand over the top of his bald head. “Your best bet is to head east to Cody’s Creek. It’s bigger with four church districts, and I’m sure you can find some work there. They’re only now pulling in their harvest, or so I’m told.”

  The man had then offered him bus money, which Jacob refused. He had more than enough left from his work in Yoder for the bus fare. It was a short ride to Cody’s Creek, and the cost reflected that. So he once again boarded the bus on a Tuesday evening. There were times, like this leg of his trip, when he wondered why he didn’t go home, settle down on the family farm, and become an active member of the church. But each time that thought passed through his mind, he would experience a feeling of being trapped, much like a hog he had seen in one of the fields in Yoder. Wild hogs were a problem, and Jacob understood why the farmers felt the need to trap them. However, he wasn’t ready to be that settled. Best to head east as the man at the mission had suggested.

  By the time the bus pulled into Mayes County, Jacob was no longer certain he had made the right decision. The place looked deserted, but then it was nine thirty in the evening.

  He remembered reading something about the area, but he couldn’t recall any of the details. Stretching, he grabbed his bag off the empty seat next to him and walked out into a dark evening. There weren’t a lot of businesses in Cody’s Creek—though the town’s name was proclaimed boldly over an Englisch bank. The few businesses that existed were closed.

  Shouldering his bag, he followed the signs to a local park, made himself a passable bed on a wooden bench, and set in for a long night. The hours on the bus from Yoder followed by the days in Tulsa had left him restless. The last thing he wanted to do was waste time on
a park bench, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in Cody’s Creek. Perhaps in the morning he would board the bus again and continue heading east.

  He pulled out his wallet and counted the money he had left from his work at Saul’s farm. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to last him a couple of weeks if he was careful.

  Then again, his last phone call home had revealed that his parents were struggling financially. It wasn’t something his mom had said, but rather what she didn’t say. No references to a good harvest. No mention of fall clothes for his brothers. There must have been some problem, though when he asked after their health she’d assured him everyone was fine. Perhaps the crop hadn’t produced as well as they had hoped. There were dozens of things that could go wrong with a crop. Jacob felt he’d seen every one of them in the last few years. Suddenly he was tired and dreaming of home. He drifted off for an hour or so. When he woke, the moon was high and the stars shone like so many fireflies.

  He sat up, fetched his water bottle from his bag, and drank deeply from it.

  He realized as he studied that darkness that he couldn’t say why he went where he went, or how he made his decisions. He knew Sarasota was a good winter community. At this point he was drifting through his life. He realized that truth, though he didn’t know exactly what to do about it.

  Did God have a plan for him? He couldn’t say, but Jacob did know right from wrong.

  As he stowed the water bottle, he was sure of one thing. He wouldn’t be boarding the bus in the morning. He’d go to the bank and wire the bulk of his money home. Then he’d find work. If God was guiding his path, there would be something he could do here in Cody’s Creek.

  CHAPTER 16

  The next morning Jacob had no luck finding what he was looking for.

  He asked about work at the small grocer and the restaurant. He hung out at the feed store, hoping an Amish farmer would drive up, but the place was dead.

  Finally he gave up and walked down to the dry goods store.

  Owned by an Amish couple, the woman listened to his situation, nodded in understanding, and called her husband from the back room.