by Amy Lillard
“Close your eyes,” she called back to him.
“They’re closed.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Jenna turned slowly, one arm covering her bra. Buddy stood in the middle of the pond, eyes closed. He had taken off his shirt and it hung on a nearby tree branch along with his trousers. His socks and shoes were nearby.
She hung her dress and her kapp in a similar fashion, then pressed her hands to her naked belly.
“Are you coming?” Buddy asked. He was still in the middle of the pond waiting for her. “Jenna?”
“Jah,” she breathed. This was a big step, bigger than she had even realized a little bit ago. How could she face her fears?
How could she not? How could she ask her mamm to treat her like an adult if she let something like water hold her back?
The water was cold, colder than she had thought. But she wasn’t backing out now. The water softly lapped at her ankles, then her calves and thighs as she waded toward Buddy. He kept his eyes closed, and she kept her gaze on him as she went deeper and deeper into the water. She got in up to her bellybutton and stopped. She had gotten used to the temperature, but the fear had taken hold.
“Buddy?” Her voice was quiet and had a little crack at the end.
“Jah?”
“I can’t come out any more.”
He opened his eyes, then closed them. “Can I open my eyes?”
“You already did,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to.”
She moved one of her arms back into place over her bra and took a bracing breath. “Open them.”
He peeked one eye open at a time and reached out a hand toward her.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to come out any farther.”
“You’re afraid?”
“I died in water,” she cried. “They brought me back to life.”
“We shouldn’t have done this, Jenna,” he said. “Let’s go back in.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “I don’t want to, Buddy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Why can’t I learn to float again right here? Why do I have to go all the way out there?”
“Okay.” He waded back toward her and she noticed that he was wearing a T-shirt, the plain white kind that her own dat had worn underneath his church shirts. That would be better, for him to be covered. This was embarrassing enough. She had no idea why she agreed to it. Maybe she had a stubborn streak of her own.
He came up next to her. Having him close once again boosted her confidence. She wasn’t alone in the water; she had Buddy with her.
“Okay . . .” He took a deep breath and held his arms out, as if measuring and preparing for what was to come. “I think it’s best if you float first, okay?”
“Jah. Okay.” She remembered floating. It was one of the things that stayed with her. She would float on her back. Let the water support her. Floating was like magic. She couldn’t do magic. She took two steps back.
“Jenna? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. She could do this. She had to do this. She stepped back into place.
“Don’t worry. I’ll hold you up.”
There was that confidence she needed. Jenna nodded, bit her lip, then closed her eyes and allowed her body to sink into the water. Her feet were still on the bottom of the pond, her toes squished into the muddy bottom, but when the water hit her neck, panic filled her. She sucked in a deep breath.
“You’re okay,” Buddy said. He knew from her breathing alone that she was scared. “You can still reach the bottom.”
She nodded.
“Then lean back into the water. And I’ll help you float.” Her eyes flew open, and she nodded again, unable to talk. She was scared beyond anything she had ever felt before. But she wasn’t giving up. She could not. She had come this far. How could she convince her mother that she was ready to date and do all the things the other girls her age were doing, if she couldn’t even get into the water?
“Relax,” he said.
His voice was soft like a whisper, but it gave her strength. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Jenna. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
That’s right. She hadn’t.
Eyes closed once again, she did her best to relax, then leaned back into the water. Buddy’s hand was there to support her neck.
“I think I’m going to put my hand on your back and you raise your feet at the same time.”
Jenna opened one eye. “You think.”
He nodded. “Ready to try it?”
And if she said no? “Jah,” she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, then tried to relax once again.
“You’re not going to drown, Jenna. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Okay.” With his hand at the back of her neck, she pushed her feet from the bottom of the pond and allowed him to support her back with his other hand.
One heartbeat, then another. And she was suspended in the water.
“I did it!” She rose up, but that made her sink. Her face went into the water before she could regain her footing, but Buddy’s hands were there. He grabbed her arm and held her out of the water.
She sputtered, coughed as she swallowed a little of the pond water, then grinned at him. “I wanna do it again.”
He returned her smile with his own beautiful one and nodded. “You remember what to do, Jenna?”
“Jah.” Feet braced on the bottom, she leaned back and allowed him and the water to support her. Feet up and legs stretched out. Relax.
“I’m doing it,” she said in awe. She really was. She was floating.
“I’m going to take my hands away now, okay, Jenna?”
“Okay, Buddy.” She really didn’t want him to, she wasn’t quite ready for that. But she had been so brave today she had to keep going.
Buddy took a step back and his touch was gone. Still she was suspended in the water.
She carefully spread her arms and allowed them to position like the wings of an airplane. That’s what she felt like. So she had never been in a plane before and probably never would. But this was how it must feel to be there, floating in the sky.
From the bank, PJ barked as if rejoicing with them. He had made his way out, shaken himself to get rid of the water, and was now heading back in. Silly dog.
Jenna smiled up at the sky. Above her the trees made a large leafy border in the shape of an egg. In the middle, the blue sky looked down upon her and her accomplishment. She had done it.
“I could stay out here forever,” Jenna said.
“I don’t think our mamms would like that very much.”
Her mamm.
Jenna twisted to straighten herself and ended up under the water once again. She spit out the water but had been a little more prepared that time. At least she didn’t swallow it or suck it down her nose.
“What’s wrong, Jenna?”
“My mamm. She was going to the store. How long have we been out here?” She didn’t know how long, but she knew it was time to head home.
“I don’t know. A while, I guess. Why are you upset?”
“I’ve got to get dressed.” Any embarrassment she would have felt, fell away from her as she hurried onto the bank and over to the tree where her clothes waited.
“Jenna,” he called after her.
She knew he was looking at her. But she didn’t have time to worry about that right now. And she didn’t have time to argue with him. “I have to go.”
“What? Now?”
“Jah. I’m sorry.” She pulled on her dress, but it was hard going since she was wet, and the fabric stuck to her.
Behind her she heard Buddy come out of the water. He whistled for PJ. Judging by the sounds of splashing water she figured he had swum ashore.
Any other day she would have loved to see that sight, but today . . .
They shouldn’t have done this. She shouldn’t have come. Her mamm would be so worri
ed when she got home and found out she was gone. Now she had to get back to the house as quickly as possible. She wasn’t sure what she would tell her mother once she was there, but that only mattered when she got there. For now she had to concentrate on getting her dress pinned.
The material of her bra was soaked, and it made wet patches on her dress. Maybe it would dry before she got home, maybe it wouldn’t. She couldn’t worry; that wouldn’t change anything.
But if she could go back . . .
She couldn’t change anything. She had spent the afternoon with Buddy and she’d had a wonderful time. She had learned to swim! Well, float. She was no longer a prisoner of the water. Buddy had helped her and now she was free. But she couldn’t think about that now, didn’t have time to thank him.
She scrambled around trying to find her pins. She needed those to keep her prayer kapp in place. But the pins weren’t where she left them. She had put them on the fallen log. A squirrel or something must have come up and they hadn’t noticed. The pins were scattered all over the ground. She found two and would have to make do with that. She pinned her kapp to her dripping hair and crammed her feet into her shoes. Thankfully her shoes were slip-on and needed almost no help from her to get them on her feet. And they didn’t have to be tied. Another plus. Sometimes she was good at that and sometimes not. Just depended.
“I’ve got to go,” she said again.
Her hair was dripping down her back. She hadn’t taken it down for their lesson and it had mostly stayed in the bob. She would have to hang her head out the buggy window and hope it dried before she got home. But she didn’t have a brush or any baby lotion. She wouldn’t be able to redo it. She never did it in the first place. Mamm always did. Jenna would say a prayer about it when she got back to the house. They hadn’t done anything wrong, and Buddy was her friend, surely the Good Lord would be on their side.
“Okay.”
She turned around to find him fully dressed, shoes on and tied as he loaded up the basket with the remains of their picnic lunch.
PJ was off to one side eating something that Buddy had thrown to him. Judging by earlier, he was doing this to keep the pup occupied.
Buddy placed the towel in the top of the basket. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, though she wasn’t really. She could have stayed out there with Buddy forever.
“Let’s go.”
PJ trotted at their feet as they made their way through the copse of trees. Jenna’s heartbeat felt heavy in her chest. Something was wrong. She wasn’t sure what, just something. A dark cloud had descended onto the day even though the sun was shining.
When they got to the edge of the cornfield and could see the house, PJ took off running. Jenna stopped in her tracks. A familiar red and rust tractor with an old Ford truck bed hitched to the back sat in front of the Miller house.
“What is it?” Buddy asked. He had been in front of her as they walked in front of the cornfield. And he held out an arm to hold her in place as she came around him.
“That’s my mamm’s tractor.”
Chapter Twelve
“What’s she doing here?” Buddy asked, as he shifted his weight and stared at the tractor. “Did she come to pick you up?” But what he really wondered was if something bad had happened. They hadn’t talked about all their relatives, cousins, aunts, uncles, and the like, but he was worried now that there was bad news. No one seemed to just show up unless there was bad news to throw around.
“I didn’t tell her I was coming here,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t?”
She bit her lip. “I knew she wouldn’t let me come, and I wanted to see you. You’re my friend, Buddy. How can I go for weeks at a time without seeing my friend?”
He turned to her and wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to cuddle her close and rub a hand down the side of her face. But he wouldn’t. That wouldn’t be right. Not now. “You can’t.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Me either.”
“We’ve got to have a plan then.”
They talked it over and decided to tell her mother it was an impulsive picnic and the two of them went down to the pond. They took the dog because he liked to swim. They ate lunch. Now they were back.
“Do you think she’s worried about you?” he asked.
Jenna nodded.
“Then tell her you didn’t mean to worry her.”
She nodded again.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“You promise?”
He started to open his mouth and vow to her that everything was going to be okay, but how could he know that for certain? He wanted it to be okay. He wanted her mother to accept him and see him for the person he was and not the child he had been or whatever else his mother had been telling Charlotte since she had been there.
“Maybe they just came for a visit.”
“I don’t think so,” Jenna said. “Do you think we’re in trouble?”
“We shouldn’t be.” And that was the truth. They hadn’t done one thing wrong. And there was nothing wrong with that.
He slid his fingers down the length of her arm and held his hand in hers for a moment. Then he squeezed gently and let go.
“Come on.” He motioned her forward. “Let’s see what this is all about.”
He wanted to keep that contact with her, hold hands all the way to the house. He loved holding her hand. Her hands were so soft compared to his. He knew she worked hard, but a woman’s work didn’t build up calluses and other tough spots on the palm. And he had plenty of those. Holding Jenna’s hand was like holding a piece of silk. But he couldn’t do that with everyone watching.
He knew they were watching. He felt them watching, like he was on display somewhere. He had seen a movie on his rumspringa about a town that eventually found out they were part of a model town of a giant or something like that. They knew he was up there watching them. That’s how Buddy felt—small, exposed, and watched.
Jenna didn’t speak. She just walked along, hand across her torso as if she was protecting herself. She had placed her hand on the opposite shoulder while the other arm was wrapped around her middle. Maybe she was trying to conceal the wet splotches on her dress. She might succeed in that, but there was no hiding the wilting prayer covering. Normally it stood out a bit from the back of the head, forming a perfect circle with a small hole and a bow at the bottom. But hers looked like ice cream melting in the sun. All the shape had gone out of it. A covering was important, near sacred to the girls. He had seen where she had put hers when they were in the water. She had hung it carefully in the branches of the nearest tree. They had talked about their clothes, but they had never talked about wet hair and what it would do to her prayer kapp. And he didn’t say anything now.
They were halfway to the house when the door opened. His mamm and dat, her mamm and mammi, Prudy and Jonathan, all filed out onto the porch. They watched silently as Buddy and Jenna approached. PJ made it there yards before them. He bounded up on the porch and braced his legs on the nearest person. That just happened to be his father. When PJ got no attention, he wound through their legs until he found someone who would.
When they got to the steps they stopped. For a moment no one moved.
“Jonathan, Prudy,” Dat started, “get this dog and take him to the barn. Make sure he has food and water.”
“Jah, Dat,” Jonathan said.
“I want you to stay there until someone comes and gets you.”
“Da-at,” Prudy whined. “I want to stay. Is Buddy in trouble? I want to hear what he did. What did he do?”
“Jonathan.” Dat said only the one word, but his brother knew what it meant.
“Come on, Prudy. Let’s go to the barn.”
“But—” She turned and looked back as Jonathan led her off the porch and toward the barn. He whistled over his shoulder for the dog. PJ bounded after them.
“I think it’s time we all sit down and talk,” Dat said, and he led th
e way back into the house.
The women followed behind him. Once they were in the house, Jenna climbed the steps and let herself in. Buddy followed.
He could tell everyone was mad. But he didn’t know why he was in trouble. He hadn’t done anything wrong. And in his opinion, neither had Jenna.
“Sit down.” Dat motioned to the dining room table. Coffee cups were already sitting in front of four of the places. It seemed the two families had been talking a while. But he had no way of knowing how long.
Buddy slid into the seat that wasn’t his normal. It felt odd to sit where Aaron usually sat. He didn’t feel like Aaron. Just Buddy in Aaron’s chair.
Jenna slid in across from him. Prudy’s seat. “I know you’re mad.” Her head was down. He couldn’t see her face, just the wilted back of her covering. She had her hands in her lap, and if he was figuring right, she was picking at her nails.
“Mad?” Her mother let go of a short bark of laughter. Not quite laughter, but Buddy didn’t know what else to call it.
“And I’m sorry,” Jenna continued without looking up.
“Mad?” her mother said again. This time she didn’t laugh. “You take the buggy and leave with no note and no clue as to where you might have gone, and you think I’m mad?”
Buddy started to ask how she found her if she had no clue as to where she had gone. But he didn’t. Somehow he figured that Jenna’s mamm wouldn’t appreciate the question.
“I just wanted to see Buddy.”
“Why are you wet?” Charlotte asked. “Your hair. Your”—she waved a hand in Jenna’s general direction—“your underclothes.”
By now Jenna’s makeshift swimsuit had bled water all over her dress. She had a huge patch on her chest that looked like a sideways number eight. He had seen the splotch on the back when they were coming to the house. It looked like an H. Sort of. And the circle just below her hips that went all the way around.
“Buddy taught me how to swim.”
“He what?” Charlotte’s words were more like a screech. She jumped to her feet, her chair slid out behind her with a screech of its own.
“Okay,” Dat said, finally joining in the conversation. “Let’s all just calm down.”
