by Sarah Price
Once again, Anna had a fitful sleep, confused by the seconds of concern Freman showed for her well-being that seemed to live in the shadows of the minutes of intense focus on Leah.
For a moment she pondered if Freman was focusing his attention on Leah as a way of testing whether or not there would be some apparent reaction on her part. Mayhaps a reaction of regret, or even jealousy? And mayhaps the fact that he still showed some obvious concern for her well-being indicated that his interest in her was not a thing of the past but merely needed to be rekindled? Yet as soon as these thoughts crossed her mind, Anna immediately felt ashamed, the heat coming to her cheeks. Am I letting myself believe that he would actually play Leah and me against each other, she pondered? Immediately, she chastised herself for entertaining such a thought. Freman simply was not capable of such a ploy. While not overly talkative during the trip and in the days preceding it, he had been a perfect gentleman so far.
It took Anna a long while to fall asleep, disconcerted by the fact that, if only for a moment, she had actually entertained the thought that his intentions and attentions may have been less than honorable.
Chapter Ten
THE SATURDAY MORNING drive to the horse auction, which took almost thirty minutes by van, wound through a series of small scenic back roads toward the south of Strasburg. Rows of Amish buggies filled the parking lot, and toward the back, Anna saw the trucks with long, metal trailers that had transported the horses to the auction and that would deliver them to their new owners’ farms later on.
As they approached the main building, two young Amish boys, no more than fourteen years of age, led a brown horse toward a wide door. The horse lifted its head. With wild eyes and twitching ears, it looked around nervously, appraising the unfamiliar surroundings. One of the boys tugged on the blue lead rope that was clipped to the tie ring on the halter. Immediately, the horse stopped walking and jerked its head backward in a defensive gesture.
Anna looked away.
When she was younger, she had always wanted to go to a horse auction. Her father, however, never took her. Later, after her mother died, he often took his three daughters to equipment and farmers’ auctions, but never to an actual horse auction.
As she grew older she often heard whispers about these auctions, as if discussing an ugly secret. Indeed, she soon learned that some of the auctions were nothing more than places for meat suppliers to buy unwanted horses. From that point forward, her desire to attend one vanished. The idea of a “kill auction” brought a terrible ache to her heart, and years ago she had once confessed to Freman that she could never attend such an event.
This auction, however, surprised her. Instead of being filled with Englischers who intended to purchase old, lame, or ill horses to sell to the slaughterhouses, the seats were filled with Amish. She breathed a sigh of relief and felt the muscles in her shoulders relax. Despite the fear in the eyes of the horse she had just seen outside, she could immediately tell that these horses were to be purchased by other Amish people for practical purposes.
To her further surprise, Freman noticed the change in her demeanor. As she passed by him to sit down, the other women already seated on folding chairs near the side of the room, he leaned over and, with a low voice, said, “I would never take you, or anyone else for that matter, to one of those auctions, Anna.”
She stopped walking and looked at him, noticing that he stared directly into her eyes. “I . . . I didn’t know what to expect,” she admitted, stumbling over her words. Regaining her composure, she glanced at the horse, the same brown one she had just watched. One of the young Amish boys led the horse for all the people to view, running up and down a fifty-foot track surrounded by metal fencing. “I am pleased, though, to see that these animals look healthy and well-cared for.”
No further words were spoken. He merely gestured toward the seats, indicating that she should join the others. Without waiting for her to move, he turned and walked in the direction Jonas and Benjamin had disappeared.
Settling into her seat, Anna watched as the horse, calmer now, ran back and forth, lifting its front legs high in the air. Two men were bidding on the horse, indicating their bids by lifting up a paper with a red number printed on one side. On the other side of the track, four men sat at a table on a platform.
One of the auctioneers held a microphone and spoke into it, uttering a staccato of words in a singing tone, practically impossible for Anna to decipher. His hands moved, gesturing towards the two bidders, enticing them to raise their stakes against each other, as he chanted a litany of numbers followed by “going once, going twice” only to be followed by a resounding “yup” as he turned, alternately, towards each of the two men. The longer she listened, the more she became mesmerized by his fast-paced, songlike words.
“Who’ll give me a six hundred dollars? Six hundred dollar bid, beautiful mare, six hundred dollars, six, now seven, now seven, will ya give me seven? Seven hundred dollar bid!” He pointed to another man. “Now, eight, now eight, now eight hundred, will ya give me eight? Even your women can drive that eight-year-old! Eight hundred? Seven and a half, seven-fifty. How about seven-fifty? Fifty? Fifty? Fifty? I got it!” The original bidder had lifted his paper and the auctioneer pointed in his direction. “How about eight hundred? Eight? Eight? Will ya give me eight? I’ve got seven-fifty. Eight? Eight? I got eight! Eight hundred!”
This continued until the bidding stopped climbing, each man outbidding the other. The auctioneer slammed the gavel down on the table and yelled, “Sold! Nine hundred and fifty dollars to Abe Stoltzfus, here, bidder number 107!” Within seconds, the Amish boy led the brown mare off the track, someone crossing off the number on the horse’s croup with a thick red marker, while another horse was led in.
Hannah leaned against Anna’s arm. “I can’t understand one single word that he said!”
Anna laughed. “You need to really listen. It’s rather interesting, I think.”
Mary was quick to offer her opinion. “Sounds like jibber-jabber to me!”
There was no more time for talking as the auctioneer began again, describing the horse, a black Morgan cross with a flowing mane and easy gait. Once again, the rhythmic chant began, and within seconds, white card-boards began to signal bids.
Enthralled, Anna watched the gorgeous horse as it pranced along the track, neither pulling on its lead rope nor pushing against the boy. Its muscles rippled as it moved, and a thin layer of sweat made its coat shine. Anna thought it was the most gorgeous horse she had ever seen.
“Sold!” The gavel slammed down once again and the auctioneer pointed toward an Amish man seated in the front row.
When the men returned, six other horses had already been auctioned. Jonas handed each of the women a thick package of papers, each stapled in the corner. It was the listing for the horse numbers and descriptions.
Thanking him, Anna accepted it before she eagerly looked up at the horse that was currently pacing the track.
“Enjoying yourself, then?”
Anna smiled at Jonas. “Oh ja!” Her eyes flickered back to the auctioneer. “It’s like listening to and seeing poetry in motion all at the same time!”
Jonas laughed at her words as he sat in the row behind the women. Benjamin took the seat directly behind her while Freman moved farther down the aisle, sitting behind Hannah. Cris, however, had not returned with them.
Mary scanned the crowd, searching for her husband. “Where did he go?” she asked, irritation showing in her voice. Her eyes continued searching, but to no avail. As for the others in the group, no one responded to her inquiry, wisely choosing to pay attention to the auction and not her complaints. When she realized that she was being ignored, she huffed and quickly got to her feet, her quest to find Cris more important than the activity around her.
If anyone noticed or minded Mary’s departure, they did not comment about it. Instead, Freman explained to Hannah about how the auction worked while Leah talked with Benjamin about the list of horses
.
“A Dutch Harness horse!” Benjamin exclaimed. “Number two thirty-seven!”
His excitement caught Anna’s attention. “Is that a special horse?” she asked.
Turning his attention away from Leah, Benjamin nodded, leaning over the back of the folding chair so that she could hear his words over the din in the large room. “A fine breed of horse, indeed! They are high steppers and quite smooth under harness. Even under saddle.”
Anna smiled at his enthusiasm. “I should like to see that one, then!”
“Ah, high steppers,” Freman said. “I should not be so affected by a horse’s gait, no matter how poetic it may look, especially when the manufactured gait can often lead to issues with the hooves at a later stage. Their temperament is much more important to me.”
Anna tore her eyes away from the prancing horse that was currently being auctioned. “Manufactured?”
Freman nodded. “Ja, manufactured. Some trainers use painful chemicals on their hooves to teach the horses how to lift their front legs. A horrible practice called soring. It’s been outlawed but . . . ” He hesitated and looked at the other two women. “It’s still being used, no doubt.”
Benjamin nodded, then added, “Others simply attach chains or put really heavy shoes on the horses’ hooves to force them to lift their legs higher, something they eventually do out of habit, then. It’s a bit more humane, don’t you think?”
Anna thought no such thing. “Oh, how awful!”
Both Hannah and Leah nodded in agreement with Anna, expressing their own dismay at the description of such a practice. For such a fine animal, one of God’s creations, to be purposefully put in pain, strictly in order to have a pretty gait, was a horrible thought for all of the women. Anna doubted she would ever again look at a high-stepping horse without thinking about what Freman and Benjamin had just told them.
While she was still pondering this, Cris and Mary returned, their arms carrying trays filled with sodas and bagged snacks for everyone.
“What do we each owe you, then?” Jonas said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
Cris held up his hand. “Nee, Jonas. It was nothing, especially after all of your generosity.”
Jonas shook his head, taking out a few single dollar bills and thrusting them at Cris. Benjamin and Freman did the same. “Nee,” Jonas said. “Fair is fair. Take the extra for the women, ja?”
It was the way of the Amish. Fair was fair. Had Jonas not offered, Cris would have thought nothing of it. However, once he had handed the money forward, Cris had no choice but to accept it. Anna understood the foundation of fastidiousness for fairness that flowed under every exchange: nothing was given or accepted for free. It was a token of goodwill and kept disagreements over money at bay.
For the next hour, the small group watched the auction, some with more genuine interest than others. Anna remained transfixed, watching the horses with an intensity that made Jonas laugh, teasing her that she might want to purchase one for herself. Blushing, Anna smiled and returned her attention to the front of the room.
Occasionally, she would look at the people surrounding her. While most were men, all dressed in black pants, white shirts, and black jackets, there were a few women beside them. Anna noticed a young man and woman, clearly not married, for the man wore no beard upon his chin, seated toward the back. She wondered if they were courting. With the wedding season so near, they might have snuck away under the guise of attending the auction to spend some time together before their betrothal would be announced in another few weeks.
In the row next to them, a woman in a dark green dress with gray rubber shoes on her feet held a baby. Dressed in a little pink dress, her blond hair tucked under a tiny white prayer kapp, the baby couldn’t have been more than a year old. Her big blue eyes stared back at Anna, and upon realizing that she was being watched, the baby smiled and squirmed, struggling to push up so that she could peer over her mother’s shoulder. Anna laughed, and when the mother glanced in her direction, curious to see what her daughter found so amusing, they exchanged smiles.
“Such a cute boppli,” Leah said.
Anna nodded. “Oh, ja, she’s a precious little one, indeed.”
After several hours had passed, Anna sensed that the other women were ready to leave, although no one would have suggested such a thing. For Anna, she could have stayed there all day and well into the evening. She suspected that the men too were enjoying themselves. A few times, Jonas had excused himself to greet someone that he knew: a friend, neighbor, or relative. Always, he would bring the person back to introduce his son’s guests.
“Oh, look, Anna!” Leah nudged her gently. “Is that the horse you wanted to see?”
Anna glanced at the white numbered tag on the horse’s croup and then checked it against the paper. “Number two thirty-seven! Oh, look how beautiful she is!” For the moment she forgot the controversy over high-stepping horses. The black mare trotted down the track, her mane braided along the arch of her neck into tiny, rosebud-like plaits, her front legs lifted high in the air.
Benjamin leaned forward and pointed over her shoulder at the horse. “She’s a nice-looking mare. Look at her conformation!”
Not wanting to admit that she wasn’t familiar with what a horse’s conformation should or shouldn’t be, she merely nodded.
Unlike the previous horse, which was auctioned for only six hundred dollars, this horse created a stir among the attendees, and as the bidding began, new energy and excitement filled the atmosphere.
“What say you, Freman? Four thousand?”
All of the women gasped.
Freman, however, leaned back in his chair and shook his head, laughing. “Nee, Benjamin. For just four thousand, I’d buy her myself and ship her back to Indiana!”
“Then what will be the high bid?”
For a moment, Freman stared at the horse, his eyes gazing over Anna’s head toward the front of the room. While all of the other women waited expectantly for his response, Anna felt the color rise to her cheeks, uncomfortable in his line of vision.
“For such a godly creature,” Freman said slowly, his eyes momentarily flickering to Anna’s before he turned to look at Benjamin. “Just under seven. Sixty-eight hundred.”
At this announcement, Cris balked. “That’s a king’s ransom.”
“Indeed,” Freman replied. “And worth every penny.” He paused as if thinking of something. “There is no value to be placed on a faithful partner that will carry you along many a journey. In addition, she will produce many nice foals.”
Hannah and Leah shot amused glances at each other as Jonas clapped him on the shoulder. “Well said, Freman. Now, let’s see which of you fellows is right and which one will have egg on his face.”
Anna focused on the rapid-fire words that the auctioneer spoke into the microphone, his voice droning into a lull-like, hypnotic leitmotiv. Hands with white papers were being raised on both sides of the room, quickly at first, the auctioneer pointing toward them as he sang numbers. Slowly, as the amount of the horse increased, the volume of rising hands decreased. When the bidding passed four thousand, Benjamin leaned forward as if anticipating the offers to cease. But to everyone’s amazement, the bids continued until only two men were left in the competition.
“Oh, I hope the better man will win the horse,” Anna said, more to herself than to anyone else.
Jonas, however, had heard her words. “They’re both right gut men, Anna,” he reassured her. “And for this kind of money, that horse will be well cared for, that’s for sure and certain!”
“Sold!” The auctioneer’s gavel slammed down on the table and he pointed toward the man seated to the right of the room. “Sixty-six hundred dollars to bidder eighty-six, Gid Peachey!”
A murmur went around the room and heads nodded, clearly expressing pleasure, not just with the purchase itself but with the free entertainment that the bidding war had provided.
It was close to four in the afternoon when they a
ll returned to the Eshes’ farm. While the men tended to chores, the women offered their assistance to Rebecca. The table, however, was already set and the food already placed upon the white tablecloth, pieces of aluminum foil covering the heated items.
Instead of helping her, Rebecca insisted that the women sit and tell her about the auction.
“Oh, my word! Sixty-six hundred dollars for a horse?” She shook her head, a look of disapproval on her face. “Such extravagance!”
Mary immediately agreed with her. “Seems a bit prideful to me . . . driving around with a fancy horse when any Standardbred will do!”
“Oh, Mary!” Hannah said. “It’s a personal preference, no doubt!”
“Ja vell, that’s not for me!” Her hand fluttered in the air dismissively.
Anna wondered if she might remind her sister of her generous offer to purchase her own father’s new buggy, complete with the self-generating battery and fancy mahogany dashboard, despite already having one.
Over the supper meal, the men relished retelling the stories from the day, Jonas making certain to update his wife about all of the people he had caught up with. But the highlight of the day was, unanimously, the story of the Dutch Harness horse. Benjamin took his time to describe the mare and the bidding war that ensued in great detail. There was, undeniably, a sparkle in his eyes, one that hadn’t been there before that day. For the first time Anna understood that, beneath the layers of mourning, there was a lively young man hidden there. And, from the joy that radiated from his parents, she suspected that he was long overdue to unlock the door so that his true self could be freed.
After supper, over pecan pie and homemade vanilla ice cream, plans were discussed for the following morning. Jonas suggested that they leave no later than a quarter after seven. The worship service would start promptly at eight o’clock in the morning. Since it was being held at a farm not too far from theirs, he also suggested that they walk.
