by Price, Sarah
There was a long pause. Too long for Steve’s comfort. He watched as John took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Ja, I see,” he said softly. “I think I do see, indeed.” He sighed and looked over Steve’s shoulder, seeking out the two men that were walking down the aisle toward the counter. “Let me take care of these two customers then we can close up shop and go check on the women,” he said. “Mayhaps you might go put the CLOSED sign in the front door, ja?”
An ominous feeling washed over Steve as he walked toward the front of the building. John’s reaction seemed a bit apprehensive, as if thinking of something far more important than Mimi working at the store one or two days a week. In due time, he figured as he reached for the sign on the door and flipped it over so that the words CLOSED faced the other side, I reckon I’ll learn what’s not being said.
Katie stomped into the stable, her eyes piercing and her lips pressed together tightly. Two hours, she thought angrily. Two hours to fix a silly old gate! She frowned as she looked over her shoulder toward the barn. Her anger was at her daed, that was for sure and certain. Fixing the gate had turned into needing to straighten some fence posts, which had led to completely repositioning the opening to the paddock because it simply didn’t line up and that meant it wouldn’t shut.
“I’m sorry, Butterscotch,” she said to the pony as she opened the door to the stall. “It’ll have to be a fast grooming if we want to go riding, I reckon.”
The grooming tools were contained in a small quilted bag that hung from a hook overhead, just high enough that Butterscotch couldn’t get into it. Katie withdrew the currycomb and began to brush broad circles in the pony’s creamy coat. With the cold weather, Butterscotch had grown fuzzy, her hair almost two inches thick. It made her look rotund and healthy, as if she had been out grazing instead of cooped up in the stall.
Tossing the currycomb back into the bag, she next pulled out a hard brush and ran it over the pony’s back. The bristles of the brush left little patterns in the hair, the dirt lifting to the surface so that she could then sweep it away with a softer brush.
“There!” she said triumphantly.
She didn’t have much time. Her mamm had told her earlier that she would need to help with the younger kinner when they would go to market after dinner. Thanks to the cow kicking in the fence, most of Katie’s riding time was already gone.
“May as well hay while the sun shines, ja?” she said out loud as if talking to the pony.
Grabbing the bridle from the hook on the wall just outside of the stall, Katie wrapped her arm under the pony’s head and slid the bit into its mouth. Expertly, she lifted the headpiece and slipped it over Butterscotch’s ears, starting with the right ear first, while standing on the left side of the pony’s head, as should be. She didn’t bother to buckle the throatlatch and tighten the girth, leaving these for later, choosing to grab the reins instead and led the pony outside.
“Be careful now,” her daed called from the barnyard. “And it’s almost dinnertime! Don’t be out for long, you hear?”
Katie waved her hand. She knew what that meant. It meant she didn’t have a lot of time to spend with her pony. After dinner, her mamm would have plenty of chores for her to do such as folding laundry and washing the kitchen floor. Then it would be time to help Daed with the afternoon chores.
Frustrated, she began walking toward the field, eager to escape before her daed found yet another chore for her. With Steve married and living on his own farm, her daed sure did rely on her more and more. When would Benjamin step up and take over as the eldest son?
When she was finally in the field, she mounted Butterscotch and, holding the reins in one hand, gently kicked her, urging her forward and away from the house. She needed time to think after being busy all morning, not to mention the day before at the Yoder’s barn raising.
Her confrontation with Melvin had been easier than she had thought. At first, she had been reluctant to say anything to him about the Bible verses and the fact that she recognized Mary Ruth’s handwriting. After all, it was the thought that counted…at least that was what Mamm told her all of the time.
Still, after praying long and hard about it, Katie realized that Melvin was living a lie and that was sinful, perhaps just as bad as stealing. He needed to confess to his parents in order to cleanse his soul. Otherwise, she had told herself, he was not following the practices of their church and community. The last thing she wanted was to see Melvin suffer in eternity over something that could so easily be corrected.
From Melvin’s reaction to her words, she knew that he would do as she asked. It was more than clear that he had felt the burden of his actions. Confessing would bring him enormous release.
Pressing her heels against Butterscotch’s barrel, Katie clicked her tongue and loosened the reins. “Come on, pony,” she said, feeling her own release as she rode across the field, urging the pony from a canter into a full gallop. “Let’s enjoy what little time together we have, ja?”
The kinner were seated at the table, each with a cup of fresh milk and a large cookie. Mary Ruth had allowed them to each have one, even though they hadn’t eaten the noon meal yet. She was at the counter, folding some towels that she had washed earlier that morning before leaving for Leah and Rachel’s. They had dried quickly in the mudroom, the wood-burning stove creating a smoky warmth.
“Melvin,” she said as she turned around. “Would you mind taking these upstairs when you are finished? And girls, I’ll be needing you to set the table.”
He nodded his head and, after shoving the last of the cookie into his mouth, wiped his hands on his black pants before reaching for the folding towels.
“Such a big help,” Mary Ruth said with a smile and gently touched his shoulder. “Danke, Melvin.”
A shadow crossed across his face and he averted his eyes. Immediately, she wondered what she had said that made his shoulders slump over in such a manner. Puzzled, she watched as he headed toward the stairs, his steps slow and his attitude so suddenly deflated.
Mary Ruth glanced at the girls but not one of them had seemed to notice the change in their older bruder’s mood. As he disappeared up the stairs, Mary Ruth frowned. Everything had been going so smoothly these past few days, she thought. What on earth was bothering Melvin all of a sudden?
“Suzanna, can you help the little ones with the table then? I need to check something upstairs,” she asked.
He was standing inside of the bathroom putting the towels into the cabinet by the bathtub. When she appeared in the doorway, he jumped and dropped them on the floor.
“Ach!” Melvin quickly knelt down to begin picking up the towels as Mary Ruth did the same. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, avoiding her eyes as she picked up the towels and made certain they were still folded properly.
“It was an accident, Melvin,” she said lightly. “Nothing to worry about. I didn’t mean to startle you and there is no reason to apologize.”
He reached up and grabbed her hand. “Nee, Mamm,” he said, his voice quivering as he stared at her. “I’m…I’m sorry about a lot of things.”
Ah, she thought. So that’s what this is about. She braced herself for the confession, wishing that Menno were here with them. It was time, she told herself. Time for the burden to finally be lifted from the child’s shoulders. “Something you want to tell me, then?”
The young boy blinked his eyes, tears starting to well up, clearly mustering up the courage to share what was on his mind when they were interrupted by Menno’s booming voice.
“Mary Ruth!” He was calling for her from the bottom of the stairs.
A frown crossed her lips. She started to turn around, to call out that she was talking with Melvin in his bathroom. But, as she did, she could hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs. There was a sense of grave urgency to his approach that caught her off guard and before she could answer, he was standing in the doorway.
“What’s wrong, Menno?”
“You best come down
stairs,” he said solemnly. “A driver’s come to fetch you.”
“Fetch me?” She jumped to her feet. “What’s happened?”
Menno glanced at Melvin. Clearly Menno did not want to share whatever bad news he had in front of his son. “There’s been an accident at your parents’ farm,” he managed to say. “Katie fell off the pony.”
“Katie’s hurt?”
Mary Ruth turned back to Melvin and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she reassured him, although from the way Menno was staring at her, she wasn’t entirely certain if that was true. Then, as if having a second thought, looked back at Menno. “Right? It’s nothing, ja? She’s not hurt, is she?”
“You best be coming,” he said, a serious look in his eyes and Mary Ruth knew that whatever had happened, it was most definitely more than just a simple fall from a pony. Without another word, she stood up and followed her husband down the stairs, her heart in her throat as she wondered just how bad it really was.
“What’s happening?” Steve asked as he stopped short in the doorway. He was too aware that Mimi’s daed was behind him, peering over his shoulder at the sight of Mimi seated on the bench by the table, her hands covering her face as she wept. Quickly, Steve hurried to her side. “Mimi?”
He caught a look that passed between her parents. It was a look that he had seen before, only between his parents. It usually meant that they knew something, shared a moment of understanding between the two of them.
“John? What’s going on here?” he asked, putting his arm around Mimi’s shoulders and pulling her so that she was pressed against his chest.
No one responded.
“Is Mimi ill?”
“Steve,” her mamm began slowly. “Mimi is not feeling well, it’s true.”
“What is it?”
Her mamm averted her eyes and seemed to contemplate how to respond. It took her a few seconds to formulate her words and when she did, he was stunned.
“Mimi hasn’t been taking her medicine,” her mamm said softly. There was a sorrowful expression on her face as she explained this to Steve. “She suffers from depression and needs her medicine.”
“Depression?” He felt Mimi’s shoulders shake as she cried, her hands in her lap rather than holding onto him. She felt like a lifeless doll in his arms. “I don’t understand.”
John cleared his throat and stepped forward. “We thought you knew.”
“She told me that she’s stopped taking the medicine after you were married,” her mamm admitted. “That she was feeling so happy and wonderful, she felt she was cured.”
Stunned, Steve held the weeping woman in his arms and tried to digest what he had just been told. Depression? He had known older people who suffered from it but never anyone close to him. He replayed the events from the past few weeks since they had married: her anxiety over not living with him, her displeasure with the grossdaadihaus, and her annoyance at the milking schedule. He had thought it was just a young woman getting used to married life. After all, he had continually told himself, she had not been raised as a farmer’s daughter so she had an even bigger adjustment than usual, and one that she needed to make progressively.
For weeks, he had been doing what he could to show her patience and understanding. He had let her sleep late in the mornings, only asked for her help in the barn when he really needed it, and tried to encourage her to do the things that he knew she liked doing, such as baking bread or making pies. He had never thought that she was suffering from an underlying mental illness.
“Why didn’t she tell me?” he asked, more to himself than to anyone else in the room. He didn’t expect an answer because he already knew what it was: fear. She had been afraid to tell him before they were married and she certainly was even more fearful to explain herself afterwards, for fear that he would think that she had deceived him on purpose in order to get married to him.
Placing both hands on her cheeks, Steve stared into her face, wiping the tears from her skin with his thumbs. He tried to smile at her, even though his heart was breaking for the pain that he knew she was feeling.
“Fraa,” he said softly. “We will get through this together, as a married couple…as a family, ja?”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, trying to look away but he forced her to keep eye contract. “I should have told you.”
“First things first,” he responded. “If there is medicine you need to be taking, we must get it. We can talk about the rest later…when you are feeling better.” And he meant it. Now that he knew what had been bothering her, he wanted to help her. But he also knew that they would have to address the fact that she had hidden this from him. A marriage’s foundation could not be built upon deceit and, surely, she had deceived him. There would come a time to reconcile with that but only after she was well enough to explain herself.
There were four buggies and three cars in the Fisher driveway when Mary Ruth arrived. The entire way to the house, she had fretted in the back seat, rubbing her hands together nervously while Leah sat up front, worrying aloud. Her sister’s constant flow of worry was making Mary Ruth feel even more distressed and she wished that she could ask her older schwester to stop talking.
It had been almost an hour ago that Rachel had received the phone call in the telephone shed. She had been walking outside, headed toward the mailbox for yesterday’s mail when she heard the phone ring. To her surprise, it had been Ella on the other end of the phone. When she heard the news about Katie, Rachel had immediately called for a driver before heading over to Leah’s house across the lane.
They had quickly decided that Rachel would watch Leah’s kinner while she would fetch Mary Ruth to return to the Fisher farm across town. With Elijah being so poorly, it was agreed by both of them that it was best if Rachel stayed behind. Surely there would be a need for prayer and support at the Fisher’s.
During the short car drive, Mary Ruth repeatedly asked Leah to explain what Ella had told Rachel but Leah never quite answered. Instead, she wiped at her wet eyes, expressing her sorrow that sweet little Katie should have been injured and why she was on that wild pony anyway? After five minutes of listening to her and avoiding the question, Mary Ruth gave up and sat quietly in the backseat of the car, knowing that she’d have her answers soon enough.
“Mamm! Daed!” Mary Ruth could scarcely contain herself as she hurried inside the house. The bishop was seated at the table as well as three of Mary Ruth’s aendis and two onkels. In the corner, three Englische women stood, watching the scene quietly. Mary Ruth didn’t need to be introduced to know that they were the drivers.
Seated on the sofa, Miriam looked up as Mary Ruth rushed to her side. With wide and frightened eyes, Mary Ruth reached for her hands. “What happened? I can’t get any answers out of Leah!”
“She was riding the pony alone in the fields,” Miriam whispered, her hands wringing a handkerchief. Her face was blotchy, the color having drained from her cheeks. “Her saddle must have turned and she fell and hit her head.” She quickly explained that the pony returned by itself to the barn, without a bridle and with the saddle turned around, hanging from its side. It was Isaac who went to look for Katie in the big field. Wiping the tears in the corner of her eyes, Miriam practically sobbed. “He found her lying motionless and holding onto the pony’s bridle”
A gasp escaped Mary Ruth’s lips and Leah began crying once again. All too often, children were injured from hitting their heads. It wasn’t that long ago that one of their neighbors’ sons died from being kicked in the head by a horse. “Where is she now?”
“The hospital,” the bishop responded, his face long and grim.
“She wasn’t moving when they took her,” Miriam added, her voice barely audible. “You don’t think she might be…”
“Hush now, Mamm!” Mary Ruth scolded gently, reaching for her mamm’s hand and caressing it as she tried to reassure her mother. “We can’t think like that, can we?” She glanced around the kitchen, disappoint
ed in Leah for continuing to cry instead of helping. “Where are the kinner?”
“Ella and John David took them back to their home,” Elias said. “Felt it was best to distract them. Benjamin was the most worried and John David can put him to work to ease his mind.”
Mary Ruth nodded. Busy hands kept the mind occupied. “Will someone be taking us to the hospital then?” she asked, looking directly at the women standing in the back of her mamm’s kitchen. “Might be best to be there to hear first-hand how she’s doing?”
To her surprise, it was the bishop who first cleared his throat and answered. “Nee, Mary Ruth,” he said. “Anna and Isaac specifically requested that we stay put and pray. They need to focus on Katie’s needs now. We’ll just have to wait for them to contact us.”
The thought of sitting there and waiting, possibly for hours, was not something that sat well with Mary Ruth. She needed to know how the little girl was doing, to understand the extent of Katie’s injuries. No one knew anything besides the fact that she had fallen and hit her head. The lack of information was not something that Mary Ruth could accept for a long period of time.
Taking a deep breath, Mary Ruth started to walk to the basement stairs, pausing to grab Leah by the arm. “Help me, please, Leah,” she said as she dragged her older sister with her. “They’ll need more chairs from downstairs.”
Reluctantly, but without complaining out loud, Leah helped carry up folding chairs. They set them out in a semi-circle, knowing that more people would certainly arrive to pray with the family. For Mary Ruth, keeping busy was the only thing she could do to stop herself from constantly thinking and worrying about sweet little Katie lying in a hospital bed.
While her mamm’s sisters sat down and tried to comfort each other, the men drifted to the other side of the room. Their faces were long and drawn. Despite years of practice dealing with accidents and emergencies on the farms, none of the men seemed to know what to say to comfort Elias. Mary Ruth quickly realized that, until someone knew the exact status of Katie, there would be no comfort for anyone.