Lizzie's Carefree Years

by Linda Byler

  The characters and events in this book are the creation of the author, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  LIZZIE’S CAREFREE YEARS

  Copyright © 2019 by Linda Byler

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Good Books, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  ISBN: 978-1-68099-446-9

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-68099-449-0

  Cover design by Jenny Zemanek

  Printed in the United States of America

  To Debbie, Verna, and Mary

  Memories are made of ridges,

  of rivers and mountains,

  of snow and ponds,

  of ponies and cabins.

  But most of all,

  they are made of love,

  which formed the best memories

  of our childhood.

  contents

  1. The New School

  2. The First Snowfall

  3. Christmas

  4. Learning to Skate

  5. Growing Up

  6. Springtime on the Ridge

  7. Playing on the Ridge

  8. Serious Matters

  9. The Twins

  10. The River

  11. Grape Kool-Aid & Chocolate Cake

  12. Building the House

  13. Ping-Pong

  14. The Fire

  15. Double Happiness

  16. Driving Bess

  17. Billy

  18. A Part of Growing Up

  19. The Renno Farm

  20. The Cow

  21. Doddy Miller

  22. Old Mary

  23. Sleeping in the Playhouse

  chapter 1

  The New School

  The mountain was awesome in its beauty as Lizzie Glick walked to school with her sisters, Emma and Mandy. She wondered if she would ever become accustomed to it, rising above the river and the line of trees along its base.

  There was a railroad track beside the river, before the mountain’s steep ascent, and the train which wound its way along this track always gave its low, mournful whistle at certain points along the track. Lizzie had asked Dat why the train blew its whistle at the same place each time. Dat said the engineer blew the whistle before small towns or railroad crossings to let people know it was passing through.

  The morning sun gave the mountain a yellow glow, and with the leaves having changed to flaming hues of orange, red, and yellow, it was almost unreal. Lizzie had never seen anything quite as beautiful or as awe-inspiring as the sight before her this morning. And, to think they lived here; she could walk to school every morning and see this.

  Lizzie skipped a little skip of excitement. Her covering bounced a bit, the bow which was tied loosely beneath her chin swinging to the side. She reached up and pulled her covering straight, or at least it seemed straighter to her. It was so unusual to be wearing a covering to school, because where they had lived before, they didn’t need to wear one until they were in the upper grades.

  This was in Lizzie’s first month of school in Jefferson County. They had all moved here from Randolph County the previous week. Lizzie was eleven years old, and lived with Emma, her older sister, Mandy, her younger sister, and Jason, her three-year-old brother. Her parents were called “Mam” and “Dat”, which is Pennsylvania Dutch for “Mother” and “Father.” But here in Jefferson County, their cousins called their parents “Mom” and “Daddy.” They didn’t pronounce “Daddy” the way Lizzie did. The a sound was more flat, which was the way her cousins spoke, because they all came from Ohio, where the Amish people’s language was a bit different than the way it sounded in Pennsylvania. Lizzie loved to hear her cousins talk, the way they rolled their r’s, using strange words that she didn’t know the meaning of.

  The girls were walking with their cousin, Edna, who was almost the same age as Emma. The older boys were walking ahead of them, but Danny, who was only six, tagged along with the girls.

  Emma’s dark brown hair shone in the sunshine. This morning they didn’t wet their hair and roll it back in the way they had done in Randolph County. That was because there were different church rules, or “ordnung” here, so they were allowed to comb their hair more loosely, without rolling it. Emma’s hair was so pretty—much darker than Lizzie’s. She always wished she could have hair the color of Emma’s, because lots and lots of people had hair the color of Lizzie’s. Plain mousy brown. It really had no blond streaks or waves or even curls in it. It was just flat brown.

  It was the same way with her nostrils. Emma’s were round and small, like ordinary people’s, but Lizzie’s were long, flat, and slanted to the side. She spent lots of time in front of her mirror on her dresser, trying to hold her head so that people wouldn’t notice them, but nothing helped. That’s just how her nostrils were. Her uncle, Marvin, who was only a bit older, had the exact same problem, except it was different. His nose had a bump on the top, where no bump should have been. He often pressed hard on this bump with his thumb, but it stayed exactly the same.

  Lizzie and Emma were not thin, like most girls who were their age. They were a bit chubby; actually, more than chubby, because Mam said it was time she put them on a diet. That hurt Lizzie’s feelings terribly, although she didn’t tell Mam, because Mam didn’t say it to be mean to her. Emma and Lizzie both loved to eat, and Mam made lots of wonderful dishes they enjoyed. Mam loved to bake, too, making pies, cakes, cupcakes, and cookies for Dat and her appreciative daughters.

  Mandy was small and thin, because she liked fruit and applesauce and Jell-O without cake and pudding to go along with it. She had beautiful large green eyes with yellow flecks in them, and her nostrils were normal, too. Her teeth stuck out in front the way Lizzie’s did, so that made them look a lot alike. The only thing—Mandy was so thin, that she seemed to be about half Lizzie’s size.

  Their cousin, Edna, was a bit heavy, too. She had wavy brown hair, twinkling brown eyes, and the most adorable flat little nose. Her teeth were perfect; they didn’t protrude one tiny bit, so Lizzie knew that was another thing she couldn’t fix. Teeth grew either straight or crooked—you could never tell which way they would grow when you were a baby.

  Mam had often told the girls their teeth were perfect. They looked like little rabbits, and rabbits were just as cute as a button. That was fine when they were small, but Lizzie was growing up, and sometimes she wished her teeth were straight. Weight was something she didn’t worry about too much, because she didn’t look too bad, she always thought. Besides, it was too hard to go without food. How were you supposed to have energy to walk to school or play baseball, or anything, really, if you didn’t eat? There was no sense in going without good food.

  They had to cross a fairly busy highway, which made Lizzie nervous. They all looked out for Danny, because he was only six. They looked carefully both ways before dashing across the road. The rest of the way to school was all downhill, not a steep incline—just a gentle slope leading down toward the river and the moun
tain. There were rolling pastures and houses dotted along them, until they turned a bend in the road and saw a small white schoolhouse tucked behind a hill. It was smaller than Lizzie had imagined.

  There were a few boys there, throwing a baseball back and forth. Their cousins, Ivan and Ray, who walked ahead of them, had already put their lunchboxes inside and were running across the playground. They opened the gate carefully, causing Lizzie’s heart to do a flip-flop, because she was nervous about meeting her new teacher. Edna had assured them she was really nice, although strict, so you could never tell, Lizzie thought nervously.

  The teacher was so friendly, they had no chance to feel apprehensive about meeting her. They had barely opened the door, before she said, “Good morning!” in a loud voice.

  Edna answered in the same loud voice, but Lizzie only spoke quietly. Emma smiled and Mandy only whispered, “Good morning,” so Lizzie knew they were nervous, too.

  The teacher’s name was Barbara Renno. That was a name Lizzie had never heard of; Renno—not Barbara. There were lots of Barbaras in Randolph County, but not one Renno. There were Glicks, Fishers, Eshes, Kauffmans, Stoltzfuses, and lots of other Amish names, but not one Renno. So Lizzie thought they would probably meet completely different people, with different names and homes and personalities.

  They sure were friendly. Everyone smiled and spoke kindly. Even the children Lizzie had never seen before walked over to the newcomers, smiling warmly. There were two girls in Lizzie’s class named Salina and Becky. They asked Lizzie how old she was and when Lizzie told them, they were so excited, because they were almost exactly her age.

  Salina did not really look like an ordinary girl. She had dark skin and coal black hair with lots of little waves in it.

  Becky was black-haired, too, only her hair was straight. She had large brown eyes and a friendly smile. She lived just down the road a bit, almost at the river. They all lived together on a farm, with lots of children who were all dark-haired with brown eyes. Her sister, Sadie, was older, but was still in the same group of friends at school.

  When the teacher rang the bell, the procedure was much the same as in Lizzie’s previous school. The singing was much more boisterous; in fact, everyone sang so loud and with such rhythm that Lizzie almost had a giggling fit. She never once glanced at Emma, because if she would have, they would have had to laugh. That would not be polite on the very first day of their new school.

  Once they were seated at their desks, Lizzie was delighted to find exactly the same arithmetic book they had used before. Even her spelling book was the same small yellow one that said “Fifth Grade” in black letters across the front. So she did not have to be afraid of not being able to do her lessons well, since the workbooks were much the same.

  One thing was very different here. That was the huge cast-iron woodstove. It sat in the middle of the classroom, like a big black elephant. Before you came to the front door, you had to walk through a woodshed. There were three or four steps down from this room, which was filled with big piles of wood. The wood had bark on it and was cut in the proper size for the black wood-burning stove inside.

  No one used coal in Jefferson County. Everyone heated their homes with wood, because there were lots of wooded ridges and sawmills, and the wood was very inexpensive.

  Lizzie felt a bit awkward when the teacher tapped the bell for first recess. The children promptly got their lunchboxes from the shelves and proceeded to eat a cookie, or a small bag of pretzels. Lizzie said something to Emma about her lunchbox, and Edna informed them they called lunchboxes “buckets.”

  “Really?” Lizzie asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “Why ‘buckets?’” Emma inquired.

  Edna shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess because Mom and Daddy always said ‘bucket.’”

  That answer was good enough for Emma, and she said nothing further. But after Edna went outside, Lizzie whispered quietly to Emma, asking if she was going to call her lunchbox ‘bucket.’”

  “Are you?” Emma asked in return.

  “Not bucket!” Lizzie burst out. “A lunchbox is not a bucket!”

  “Sh-shh!” Emma warned. “Someone will hear you.”

  So Lizzie wandered outside to watch as the older boys picked teams to play baseball. She leaned against the white wooden siding of the schoolhouse, putting one foot up against the concrete wall beneath it. She held a small plastic bag of potato chips in one hand and smoothed back her loose hair with the other. Strands of hair had already come loose from beneath her covering and were blowing in the breeze. That would have been considered terribly unkempt in Randolph County, but here it was quite ordinary.

  Lizzie thought her hair looked much nicer, and it even felt a bit English. She had watched a few girls who had their hair cut in bangs at the grocery store, and thought that it would be so nice to have bangs. If she crossed her eyes upward, she could see her loose hair, and it seemed almost like she was English. I had better never tell Emma that, she thought wryly.

  Lizzie was surprised to see the girls were being picked to help play baseball. She had often helped play, but thought maybe these girls wouldn’t play, because their skirts were longer and they wore coverings. Ray called over to her, “Lizzie! Come on over!”

  Lizzie shook her head. “No.”

  “Come on.”

  “I’m eating chips.”

  “Well, hurry up and finish them.”

  So Lizzie walked over and stood beside the other girls, stuffing the last of her potato chips into her mouth. She crumpled the plastic bag, lifting her apron to put it in the pocket of her dress.

  “Lizzie!”

  Ray had already picked her! Lizzie was thrilled. That was really nice of him, she thought, as she hurried over to stand on his side. She couldn’t wait to show these children how well she could play, because she actually could play baseball quite well.

  The bell rang before they could play, but each team had the same amount of boys and girls, so it would turn out alright, Lizzie thought.

  They had reading the second period, which kept Lizzie’s mind fully occupied every second, listening to every new person read. She pretended to be studying her story and listing the new words, but she was actually watching each new pupil read. They were all shapes and sizes, with loud voices and quiet voices, low voices and high ones. There were tall children and small ones, and each one read in their own individual voice.

  Her attention turned to Ivan and Ray, who were not studying or doing any writing. They were laughing with Jonas and Harvey, watching something outside the window. Lizzie decided big boys were all the same—it didn’t matter where you went to school. They never behaved very well, because for one thing, they were bored, and for another, they knew they could worry the teacher. It seemed to Lizzie these boys were not too fond of Barbara Renno; but then, the big boys in her old school always made trouble for Teacher Katie, too. Not really serious trouble—just annoying little things that made her correct them in class.

  Suddenly, Ray slid out of his seat with his ruler. He leaned over as far as he could and stuck it against the wooden baseboard of the floor. There was a sickening crunch that turned Lizzie’s stomach, and she put up both hands to cover her mouth, her eyes wide in alarm.

  The boys snickered and whispered, while Ray sat covertly back in his seat. Teacher Barbara turned slowly in their direction, keeping her white face absolutely impassive. She didn’t say one word. She just walked slowly over and peered at the baseboard along the floor. She stooped and picked up the decapitated grasshopper, throwing it out the window.

  “You could have caught it and took it outside,” she said firmly, her mouth in a straight, tight line.

  “Sorry, Teacher, but his time was up,” answered Ray sorrowfully. Jonas, Ivan, and Harvey hid their wide grins behind their reading books, ducking their heads to keep from looking at one another.

  Teacher Barbara resumed her class, turning her back as the boys laughed quietly. Lizzie had to smile in sp
ite of herself, although she decided boys were the same wherever you went to school—they really were.

  After they had eaten, they all went outside to play baseball. Their ball diamond was slightly uphill, so that Lizzie worried about making it to first base fast enough when it was her turn to bat. Emma had a good solid hit, but the pitcher caught it and threw it swiftly to first base. Emma stopped running and turned back toward home plate, her face flaming.

  “That was a good hit,” Salina said kindly.

  “Yes, it sure was,” Sadie chimed in.

  “But I still made an out,” Emma said shyly.

  Lizzie’s heart hammered in her chest and she felt dizzy—she was so nervous. She hoped with all her heart she would not strike out, because this was a new school, and it was terribly important to her that everyone could see she was a good ball player, especially for a girl.

  She grasped the bat firmly, leaning forward slightly, planting her feet solidly on the ground. Ivan was the pitcher, and he smiled a teasing smile in her direction, pitching a fast ball over the plate. Lizzie bit down on her tongue and swung the bat with all her might. She twisted her whole body as the ball went sailing past, undeterred. Oh dear, Lizzie thought wildly. I simply CANNOT strike out. Another pitch, which she let go to the backstop, mostly because she was losing her nerve. She was afraid to strike at it, fearing she would miss it like the first one.

  After a slower pitch, Lizzie felt the bat connect solidly with the ball, which went flying in a high arc over the pitcher’s head. She threw down the bat, flying along the dusty grass to first base. Her covering lifted off her head as the pins pulled dreadfully in her hair, but she kept running. Just as she reached the base, there was a solid “whack” as the outfielder threw the ball to first base. He reached over and tagged Lizzie solidly, just as her foot touched down on base.

  “Out! Out!” yelled the opposing team.

  “I am not!” Lizzie shouted, without thinking about being at a new school. She definitely was not out—there was no other way, because her foot was on first base when he tagged her.