An Amish Homecoming

by Rosalind Lauer

  “You knew enough to trust in Gott,” Harlan said.

  Essie asked Collette about her wedding to Jed Yoder, and Collette remembered the colors her bridal party had worn, along with the many pounds of chicken that had been prepared and served by family members. “Have you chosen your newehockers?” Collette asked.

  “Yah. My friends Sadie and Laura will be in the wedding, as well as my sister Annie.” Essie explained that she would have liked her three English cousins to be included, as she had grown close to them in the months that they’d been living here. But at least the English relatives would be allowed to attend the wedding.

  “They seem like nice girls,” Collette said.

  “They are,” Harlan agreed, warming Essie’s heart.

  “It turns out that cousin Megan is good on the sewing machine, particularly at pumping the treadle. She’s helping me sew my dress, as well as dresses for the newehockers.” Essie had chosen a deep royal-purple fabric for her wedding dress, which she would later use as a church dress. The attendants’ dresses would be sewn from forest-green cloth, and the female cousins and friends who would work as servers were being asked to wear burgundy red, with an overall look that would celebrate the Christmas season of Christ’s birth.

  Mem was helping Essie with the rest of the wedding planning. They had rented two tents, the bench wagon, and the wedding cook wagon and cooler. A large order of chickens would arrive days before the wedding.

  Meanwhile Essie’s friends Sadie and Laura had been helping her coordinate the auction vendors and donations. At first Essie had thought Sadie’s beau Mark would be a helpful resource since his dat owned the auction house where Mark was an Amish auctioneer. But in her dealings with Mark, Essie had grown disturbed by the way he treated Sadie.

  Just yesterday, when Sadie and Essie had visited the auction house, the exchange with Mark had been unpleasant.

  “You want a discount on the auction house fee just because the money goes to the Yoders?” Mark had railed at Sadie as Essie stayed a discreet distance away. “We’re in business to make a profit, Sadie,” he’d said.

  “I know that, Mark, but it’s for charity, for medical expenses.” Sadie’s green eyes had flashed upon Essie with a look of distress before she turned back to Mark. “Please. Can’t you help? Maybe you can donate your fees as an auctioneer for the day?”

  “Is this how much you value my work?” Mark had demanded. “Dat and I conduct auctions in two languages. Do you know the value of an auctioneer who can speak both English and German, rapidly?”

  “I do value your work,” Sadie had said, head down and gazing at the ground. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m just trying to help a family in need.”

  “Well, you want to think twice before you try to harm the business of my family because you want to do a good deed.”

  After that Sadie had apologized again, and Essie had tried to sweep her out of the auction house as quickly as possible. Their other errands in town had gone so well, as they’d convinced the baker and even Hostetler’s harness shop to make donations to the auction. Essie hated to end the day on a sour note.

  “Come with me to Smitty’s Pretzel Factory,” Essie had said once they were in the buggy. “We’ll offer Suzie a ride home, and I’ll buy you a buttery hot pretzel.”

  Sadie nodded. “You’re a good friend,” she’d said, then let out a sob.

  “Ach, I think I know why you’re crying, Schazti,” Essie said, using a Pennsylvania Dutch term of endearment. “Mark needs to treat you better.”

  “I love him,” Sadie had cried, leaning back into the privacy of the buggy. “I do love him, but I always do the wrong thing around him.”

  “From my view you did nothing wrong. It’s our way as Amish to help our neighbors and treat everyone with kindness. Mark is the one who’s not following the golden rule.”

  “But it’s his family business,” Sadie had lamented. “I was wrong to ask him a favor.”

  Essie didn’t agree, but she didn’t want to push her friend. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “Maybe if the bishop talks with him, Mark will come around before the auction. But for now, shall we get those pretzels?”

  Sadie nodded, trying to dry her eyes. “I can’t let my friends at work see me crying.” She had worked at Smitty’s since she’d finished at the Amish schoolhouse, and the place had become like a second home to her.

  “You have a few minutes to pull yourself together,” Essie said as they went on their way. But the incident had stayed on Essie’s mind, and she decided that Sadie would not be asked to deal with Mark again on auction business. Best to leave the two of them without tensions that might pull them apart.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Life with a broken heart wasn’t easy.

  Serena had learned that cookies were still sweet and the stars were still amazing gems in the night sky, but somehow the joy those things had once brought her was diminished by her loss. Occasionally she was able to distract herself in the woodshop or at school or goofing around with her younger Amish cousins. But most of the time Serena missed Scout with a physical ache, like a bad cramp. The past weeks without him seemed like ten years, and she was beginning to wonder if she would need to leave Joyful River behind to clear her mind of him. Since the thought of leaving her new home only intensified her grief, she tried to shake that idea off.

  Of course, everyone around her was trying to help. Megan let her talk about Scout and the foibles of relationships. Essie dragged her into the auction planning, sending Serena to solicit support from the English shopkeepers in town. Serena had to admit, she was pretty good at it. If the furniture thing didn’t work out, sales might be her thing. Grace was full of practical advice, and Aunt Miriam always made Serena feel good about herself by expecting the best from her. It was a quality that reminded Serena of her mother: that vision of her best qualities, the expectation of positive things. In Serena’s darkest moments, Aunt Miriam brought random rays of light.

  As planned during their cookie baking session, Aunt Miriam had driven her to Scout’s house, an appointment made under the guise of acquiring another piece of furniture from Scout’s mother. They’d gotten a mile or so from the house when rain began to pour from the sky, dancing on the street and slanting through the air. Aunt Miriam had showed Serena how to put the plastic sheets down over the buggy’s side openings, but water dripped inside, forming a puddle on the floor.

  Aunt Miriam had moved her feet from the water in good humor. “We’re so fortunate it’s just rain. In a few months, snow will be coming down, and that would make for a challenging ride being pulled by good old Comet.”

  At Scout’s house Serena had gone to the door and rung the bell as Aunt Miriam waited in the buggy. Serena smoothed back her hair and shook out her hands, a bundle of nerves at the prospect of seeing Scout.

  But Bonnie had answered the door and told her Scout was at the firehouse. “Sorry to disappoint you, honey, but he made it clear that he didn’t want to be here when you came around.”

  Another stab through the heart.

  Serena had braced herself to keep breathing as she followed Bonnie to the garage. The space was still crowded with furniture, but now there was at least a narrow space to walk through to the back.

  They had considered the possibilities and Serena had chosen a console table, along with a low dresser that she would donate to the auction.

  “I’ll throw in the dresser for free, since it’s for charity,” Bonnie said. “My advice on that is to keep it as simple as possible if you want to appeal to the Amish. Color is okay, but no patterns or fancy knobs.”

  “Good advice,” Serena said. “Thanks.” She had hoisted the console table, and then put it back down again. “Before I go, I just have to ask. Did Scout tell you what happened?”

  “He did.”

  “Can you help me understand? Or maybe you can help me get a message to him. I really need to talk to him.”

  “I’m sorry.” Bonnie had tilt
ed her head to the side, her eyes sad. “Let’s keep this as strictly business. I think you’re a remarkable young woman, Serena. Creative and energetic, with a good head on your shoulders. But I can’t tell my son how to live his life.” She winked. “Much as I’d like to try. He’s got to figure his own path.”

  Serena had nodded as if she understood. In truth, she felt more lost than ever.

  “Now, can I help you load this into your buggy? It looks like we have a little break in the rain.”

  “I think we can handle it.” Aunt Miriam was suddenly beside Serena, taking one end of the skinny table.

  Serena had lifted the other end of the table and they had carried it easily to the back of the buggy. The dresser was a little heavier, but Aunt Miriam made it seem light as a feather. As they were loading the rain had begun again, and Serena had been relieved to have an excuse to wave good-bye to Bonnie and duck into the buggy.

  “That didn’t go well,” Serena said.

  “She’s trying to protect her son,” Aunt Miriam said. “It’s difficult when each person is trying to solve their part of the puzzle, but the puzzle pieces just don’t fit.”

  “Well, thanks for helping me. Even though none of my puzzle pieces fit quite right.”

  Miriam had chuckled as rain tapped on the roof of the buggy.

  “I’m serious. Scout told me I’m pushy, and I know that’s true. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and now they’re all catching up with me.”

  “Dear Serena, love covers a multitude of sins. I know that’s true because it’s in the Bible.”

  Serena had followed a raindrop as it wriggled down the plastic window. “Then it looks like I’m going to need a lot of love.”

  * * *

  Day after day, Serena pushed herself to keep busy and lose herself in activities that gave her a temporary break from thinking about Scout. As autumn leaves swirled in the air and rested in thick, crunchy blankets along the lane, she felt the new season as a passageway. Leaves and flowers withered and died in the fall, but then, come springtime, blossoms and foliage would be reborn in splashes of color and sweet fragrance.

  Life went on. And though she dearly missed Scout, she couldn’t give up on love. As Aunt Miriam told her, there were so many kinds of love in God’s world. Serena was blessed to have the love of a wonderful Amish and English family.

  One afternoon in late October, Serena was riding the boxy yellow school bus home with her sisters when they were stopped in traffic and smoke. Since only a dozen or so kids rode the bus out to their area, most people scattered and took their own seats. Now a group of kids gathered at the windows on Serena’s side of the bus.

  “It’s a fire,” someone said.

  Serena had thought someone was burning leaves, but as the bus crept up in the traffic, she could see that the billowing black smoke was coming from a burning barn.

  “Guys, look at this,” Serena said, catching the attention of her sisters, who were tapping away on their cell phones while they were still in range of service.

  Grace crossed the aisle of the bus and squeezed in beside Serena, and Megan put her phone down to stare out the window.

  “Ooh. Looks bad,” Grace said.

  Two large fire trucks and a smaller red vehicle were there, and firefighters on the ladder truck pumped water onto the charred frame of the barn. The roofline still outlined the wall, but the second story seemed to have collapsed to the ground.

  As the bus moved up and stopped again, Serena studied each firefighter in search of Scout. It was hard to identify them, as they wore the same black helmets and khaki jackets with stripes of neon-yellow reflective tape. But she would know his distinctive swagger and broad shoulders anywhere. She watched the guys near the trucks, the guys on the ladder, the guys handling the giant hose, but none of them seemed to be Scout.

  Well, she could be grateful that he was safe.

  “That’s an Amish farm,” said one of the kids on the bus. A sophomore named Dustin with curly dark hair and glasses that magnified his eyes. “It belongs to the Graber family. My brother has done some work for them during harvest season.”

  The Grabers . . . Serena wondered if Aunt Miriam knew them. She couldn’t take her eyes off the scene as the bus moved slowly. Where was Scout? He would have been summoned to a fire this extensive. The image of the blackened barn stuck in her mind as traffic thinned and the bus finally picked up speed.

  She was talking about the fire with Grace when her phone buzzed. She grabbed it quickly, knowing they would be out of range once they passed the hills ahead.

  She was surprised to see Bonnie Tanner’s number.

  “Hi, Bonnie.”

  “Serena, I’m so glad I could reach you.” Bonnie’s voice was high pitched, strained. “Listen, Scout’s been injured, and he’s asking for you. Can you come to Lancaster Hope Hospital?”

  Panic fluttered in Serena’s chest. “I . . . Of course. Is he okay?”

  “I’m on my way, so I don’t have all the facts. The doctors say he’s being treated for smoke inhalation and a shoulder injury.”

  “He was at the fire!” Serena pressed a hand to her mouth. “We just passed the fire scene. The whole top of the barn collapsed.”

  “Please, will you come to the hospital? I promised him I’d reach out to you.”

  “I’ll figure out a ride.”

  “Call me when you’re close, and I’ll come find you in the ER.”

  * * *

  Within a half hour Serena was on her way to the hospital, sandwiched in the buggy between Essie and Megan, who had insisted on coming along for moral support. Aunt Miriam had hitched up a second buggy upon hearing of the fire on the property of her friend, Rose Graber. “At a time like this, everyone needs help,” Miriam had said.

  Tension filled the buggy, but Serena couldn’t let herself be gripped by fear. She had the support of her sister and her cousin, and her faith in God. She kept taking deep breaths to calm her racing pulse.

  As they approached the hospital she sent Bonnie a text, and the older woman met her at the emergency room entrance.

  “Thank you for coming!” Bonnie greeted Serena with open arms and folded her into a hug. “He’s okay. The doctors think he’ll be okay, but it was so close.”

  “What happened?”

  “The fire was in the hayloft. They’re still investigating it, but two boys have admitted to playing with firecrackers. Once a fire sparked, the hay bales fueled the fire quickly. One of the little boys escaped, but a second one was stranded up in the loft. The firefighters put the ladder up, and Scout climbed in. He got the little boy to the man on the ladder, but before Scout could get out, the hayloft collapsed. He was pulled from the embers after they freed him from a heavy beam that fell and hit his shoulder.”

  Essie clapped her hands together in a prayerful gesture. “Thank Gott they got him out.”

  “It sounds like he’s a hero,” Megan said.

  Serena could only shake her head, mesmerized by Bonnie’s account.

  “It’s a miracle he survived this,” Bonnie said. “Scout has always kept it a secret, but the farm accident left him with a metal plate in his skull. It took him more than a year to come back from head trauma, but he was left with a very vulnerable part in his skull. If that beam had landed a few inches toward his head, he might not be here now.”

  “A miracle,” Serena whispered, tears in her eyes. Oh, thank you, God. I may not have Scout in my life, but I couldn’t bear it if he weren’t in this world. Thank you!

  They were still standing in the lobby, blocking part of the entrance. Seeming to snap back to the present, Bonnie motioned them to come into the waiting room. She put a hand on Serena’s shoulder. “Scout asked me to bring you in as soon as you got here. They have him on oxygen right now, but he can talk. Do you think you can handle seeing him?”

  Serena nodded.

  Megan squeezed her hand. “We’ll wait right here,” she said, and Essie nodded.

  After watching her
mother die, Serena hated the smells and sounds of a hospital. The beeping monitors and shiny tile floors. The antiseptic odor. The feeling of being one small, unremarkable bee in a buzzing hive of activity. She tamped down her discomfort and followed Scout’s mother to his room, pausing in the doorway.

  The beeping monitors and screens were there, with tubes attached to the young man resting in the hospital bed. A clear plastic mask covered much of his face. His chest was bare, one shoulder wrapped in white bandages and resting in a sling. Red blisters rose along one side of his neck, and his hair had been buzzed off on the sides, revealing the beginnings of the red scar he had always tried to hide.

  You don’t know me. He’d once told her that, and now, standing here, she wondered if she’d always been projecting the man she wanted on Scout Tanner.

  He opened his eyes, blue as a summer sky, and the entire room changed. He pulled the mask down below his chin, and once again, she knew him.

  “Scout.” She came to the edge of the bed, wanting to touch him but wary.

  He lifted his right hand, and, even with the clip on his index finger, he took her hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I needed to see you.”

  She squeezed his hand, energized by a jolt of relief. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better, but I’d rather be here with burns and torn ligaments than not be here at all.”

  She nodded. “I’m glad you’re here. You changed your hair.”

  He laughed, rolling his head to the side until the laughter turned into a coarse cough. “I have undergone a style change. Some of my hair got singed, so I told them to go for it and buzz the sides. Now you can see the real me. The good, the bad, and the wounded.”