Miriam’s Quilt (Forever after in apple lake™)

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Yost nodded, his eyes still glued to the floor. He had already experienced the humiliating consequences of that rule. Last Thursday, Miriam and Mamm had dragged Yost to a quilting bee. He sat in the corner of the kitchen at Mary Hoover’s house enduring the pitiful looks of the women and the curious eyes of the little girls. He had come home and barricaded himself in his room. From below, Miriam heard him pacing the floor and pounding on walls.

  Now, she followed the Englischer to the front door. He didn’t smile, and she didn’t smile. They simply nodded to each other before she closed the door and shut him out. Yost endured the humiliation because he had no other choice, but Miriam found it nearly unbearable.

  Upstairs, Yost stood in the spot where she had left him, carved from stone and sand.

  “Cum,” Miriam said. “I will help you tidy the room.”

  “I can’t stand this,” Yost muttered. “I can’t stand this.”

  Miriam didn’t know how to respond except with anger, so she chose to ignore his turmoil. “Tuck the sheet on that side.”

  Yost didn’t move. “I felt like I was on fire, like the flames would jump out of my hands and burn me up. I hate him for coming.”

  Miriam’s pulse raced with the urge to lash out at her brother. You brought this on yourself, you know. Mamm hides in her room in shame because you let greed overtake your virtue. My Ephraim hasn’t set foot on our property for ten days because your behavior has spread a stain of sin over our entire family. Our perfect, exemplary family.

  Get out! she wanted to scream. Go away and never come home again!

  Instead, she turned her back on him, adjusted the mattress on Raymond’s bed, and tucked the sheet into place. She smoothed the quilts on each bed—red, white, and blue pinwheel patterns. She had made them last year right before her baptism.

  Yost slumped his shoulders and leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m sorry, Miriam.”

  Miriam stood up straight and looked at her brother. The pain she saw in his eyes almost cracked the wall of her anger. “Straighten the drawers. And refold Raymond’s clothes too. You owe him that much.”

  She marched out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast for the family. Holding back self-indulgent tears, she pulled bacon from the icebox and arranged it in the skillet. Then she whipped up pancake batter and poured four perfect circles into the second skillet. When the batter began to bubble, she tried to turn the pancakes…only to discover that they were stuck like glue. She had forgotten the oil.

  Gripping her spatula with white knuckles, she scraped the pan vigorously until the first pancake surrendered its hold on the skillet and folded into a doughy heap. With the half-cooked pancake balanced on her spatula, she walked to the garbage can and flipped the pancake in. Of course, the ruined pancake wouldn’t go quietly. Dough splattered on the wall behind the garbage can and on the floor in front of it.

  Miriam slammed the spatula onto the counter, unrolled seven or eight sections of paper towel, and wiped up her mess. About the time she got rid of all the little drops of pancake batter, she smelled burning dough. Jumping to her feet, she snatched the skillet off the cookstove and burned her thumb. She hissed in pain and frustration as she looked at her cooking efforts thus far. Raw bacon and pancakes…doughy on one side, charred to a crisp on the other.

  She couldn’t help herself. She burst into tears and cried like a newborn buplie. Tears sizzled on the skillet as she scraped out the rest of the blackened pancakes and tossed them into the garbage.

  Mamm must have heard the screeching of metal against metal. She appeared at Miriam’s side, put her arm around her, and gently took the spatula from her hand. “Oh, leibe. You carry everyone’s sorrow in your apron pocket.”

  “Everything is all wrong,” Miriam said. “How can everything be so wrong?”

  Mamm held Miriam’s chin in her hand “You need to get out of the house, away from our problems. Go. Go take a walk.”

  Miriam didn’t argue. She longed for a break from the depressing atmosphere of the house. Because of their troubles, Martha had given her some time off from the quilt shop, but that only served to make Miriam feel isolated and trapped.

  “Go. I will see if I can rescue breakfast.” Mamm gave Miriam a half smile and nudged her out of the kitchen.

  Miriam retrieved her black bonnet from the hook and practically sprinted out the door. She knew exactly how she wanted to spend the morning.

  The walk to Seth Lambright’s ranch took almost a half hour. In her solitude, she found it impossible to think of anything but the dreadful circumstances of her family. Her mind jumped from Susie to Yost and back again, and the closer she got to Seth’s place, the heavier her steps became. By the time she turned into the lane, she felt as if she had an anvil in her chest instead of a heart.

  Even though she wanted to see the foals, Miriam dreaded the reception she would get from Seth. Would he lecture her as Ephraim had done? Or gloat over the stuck-up girl’s misfortunes?

  What did it matter? She deserved every unsympathetic look or cross word she got.

  This time she didn’t knock. She pushed open the stable door and took a tentative step into the dim space.

  Seth stood with his thumbs hooked around his suspenders, talking to an Englischer who wore jeans and a green button-down shirt. Seth looked up and flashed a genuine, if tentative, smile. The expression took her breath away. The comfort of a friendly face almost brought forth a fresh bout of tears.

  “Miriam, this is my friend Doug Matthews.”

  Doug, the Englischer, stepped forward as if he would run her over and took Miriam’s hand firmly in his. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I am sorry if I am interrupting,” Miriam said.

  Doug shook his head. “Not at all. I was just leaving. We’ll see you next Tuesday night, Seth.”

  “You go it,” Seth responded, as he watched Doug walk out the door.

  “I thought you might be at the mill this morning,” Miriam said.

  Seth hung a harness on a hook on the stable wall. “I work the afternoon shift. Come to see the horses?”

  Miriam nodded.

  “They are in the pasture. Cum.”

  With measured steps, she followed him behind the stable as she had before to where the foals played in the pasture with their mothers.

  “They have grown since last time.”

  “Jah, they grow so fast you can almost watch it before your eyes.”

  Miriam clicked her tongue and held her hand between the slats in the fence. The foals paid her no heed.

  Seth tapped the top of the fence. “I will fetch some apples.”

  He jogged back to the stable and reappeared shortly with some apple slices, which he handed to Miriam.

  She stuck her hand between the slats again and called to the horses. The bait worked. All four horses trotted her way. She spread her fingers and let the colt take the piece of apple out of her hand. She fed each horse one slice of apple and then rubbed the colt’s nose while he nudged her arm looking for more.

  Yost loved apples. Miriam had made him a half dozen fancy caramel apples for his birthday last winter. He had been so excited that he practically danced around the kitchen. That was the last time she saw him so happy.

  Miriam took a deep breath and tried to cleanse the dark feeling from her soul, but she couldn’t find a speck of hope.

  Not even the foals could lift her spirits today.

  “Does Ephraim like horses?” Seth asked. “Maybe you should get two horses so both of you can ride.”

  The mention of Ephraim brought to mind their last encounter.

  “Yost must repent quickly of this great wickedness. I don’t want anything to delay our wedding.”

  Did he truly see Yost’s sins as a stumbling block to their wedding? Was her happiness in jeopardy because of her brother’s wickedness?

  Anxiety overwhelmed her, and the tears began to flow despite all her efforts to stifle them.

  “Miriam, what is
wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

  Miriam dragged the back of her hand over her eyes, but new tears took the place of the old ones faster than she could wipe them off. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…” Her attempt at speech made the crying worse. A sob escaped her lips, and she couldn’t stop her limbs from trembling.

  The look of concern in Seth’s gray eyes turned to alarm. He put an arm around her and took her by the elbow. “Cum inside. It is too hot out here.”

  She let him lead her into the cool stable, where he pulled a folding chair out of his tiny sleeping room and bid her to sit. She sank to the chair and wiped her eyes again.

  Seth handed her a handkerchief.

  She nodded her thanks, buried her face in the white fabric, and wept as if no one were watching. Let Seth think what he wanted. She was too distraught to care.

  The pain, the humiliation, rushed at her like a swollen river. What if Yost did not mend his ways and had to spend his life in prison? What if he got addicted to drugs? Was he a wicked boy beyond help? And Susie, Susie, who always seemed like a delicate, beautiful flower, had fallen onto forbidden paths. Now she faced exile and the pain of giving up her baby to the care of strangers. Where had their family gone wrong?

  Where had she gone wrong?

  With every emotion spent, Miriam blew her nose in a very unladylike manner and looked up to see Seth sitting next to her on another folding chair with his brows furrowed and a worried frown on his lips. He leaned toward her with his elbows propped on his knees and studied her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking in an effort to stifle the sobs.

  He held up his hand. “No need to apologize.”

  He fell silent, and she refused to speak until she could do so with composure. Her sniffles echoed off the high ceiling of the stable as she felt his gaze upon her.

  He cleared his throat. “Do you want to be alone? I can step outside.”

  She shook her head. “I am sorry. I did not mean to disturb you like this.”

  “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

  “If I had known I was going to bawl like a baby, I would have been sure to go to the market and let everyone stare at me.”

  Seth gave her a half smile. “Everyone stares at you anyway.”

  “They do?”

  “Because you are so pretty.”

  Miriam felt her face flush hotter than it already was. “I am not.”

  Seth looked suddenly uncomfortable, averted his intense gaze, and leaned back in his chair.

  “I should not go out in public until I can think about Yost without crying,” she said.

  “What is wrong with Yost?”

  “You know. His arrest.”

  Seth’s eyes went wide. “He was arrested? For what?”

  “You haven’t heard?”

  “I had two shifts off at the mill this week, and I’ve been sleeping here for three days,” Seth said. “And I try not to listen to gossip.”

  The shame almost choked her. “The police arrested Yost ten days ago for selling drugs.”

  Seth rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t believe it.”

  “They locked him up in detention Wednesday night and then they let him come home. Dat was very angry.”

  Miriam half expected Seth to make some sort of excuse to leave her presence. Instead, he pulled his chair closer. She felt the warmth spread through her as he put his hand over hers. “Oh Miriam. I am so very sorry. You must feel terrible.”

  “I do. Yost has disgraced the entire family.”

  “Is that what you think?” He stiffened and withdrew his hand. “Or is it what Ephraim told you?”

  “It is what everybody thinks.”

  “I don’t think that.” Seth leaned his elbows on his knees once more and laced his fingers together. “Is Yost okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I am sure he is suffering. I can’t imagine being taken away by the police and put in that awful place.”

  “Don’t you think he deserves the punishment?”

  Seth rested his chin in his palm. “It is not mine to judge what Yost deserves. His own conscience is punishment enough, I’m sure. I am more concerned for his well-being. People are always more important than what they have done.”

  Miriam thought of Yost’s grief-stricken face and mournful moaning on the night of his release. She had been so preoccupied with her own embarrassment that she hadn’t cared about Yost’s. Thinking of his pain took her breath away. Why hadn’t she shown more sympathy for her brother?

  “I have worked alongside Yost at frolics and barn raisings,” Seth said. “He is a hard worker and a gute boy. Never has a cross word for anyone. It wonders me why he did this. Is he using drugs?”

  “They did a drug test when they arrested him. Nothing was in his system, praise the Lord. That is why they let him go. He wanted the money to buy a car.”

  “A car? Is he planning to jump the fence?”

  “I do not think so, although after this week, who knows? He told me he is angry at the whole world. Like he is going to explode if he doesn’t get more freedom.”

  “He must be miserable.”

  His tone melted Miriam’s heart and made her feel ashamed of her own reaction to Yost. Seth offered sympathy instead of condemnation.

  “My friend Doug—the man who was here when you came—is a counselor. A social worker. He helps people with problems like this. Would you like me to ask him what he thinks?”

  “About Yost?”

  “I don’t have to tell him your brother’s name. If Yost is living with so much anger bottled up, maybe Doug can tell us how to help him.”

  For some reason, Miriam felt a profound sense of relief. “I would…” She let the emotion wash over her before she continued. “I would appreciate that.”

  He studied her with those slate-gray eyes that looked almost blue in the dim light of the stable. How could she have ever have thought he had an icy stare? They sat there without saying a word until he broke the connection with a reassuring grin and a quick pat of her hand.

  “I am certain you did not come here to inspect the dirt on my stable floor. The filly has learned a new trick. I will show you.”

  He stood up and, with one quick flick of his wrist, collapsed the folding chair. She grabbed the back of her chair to do the same, but he quickly took it from her hands.

  “It is my job to take down the chairs,” he said. “It is your job to enjoy the horses. Cum.”

  Chapter 11

  “Why won’t they stop fighting? I just want them to stop,” Susie said.

  Miriam had found Susie sitting on her bed, covering her ears with her palms and crying.

  After a morning spent with Seth’s horses, Miriam felt as if she were ready to face anything…until she opened the door to the sound of Dat and Yost yelling at each other in the kitchen. She sighed and slumped her shoulders. Until ten days ago, she had never heard Dat raise his voice in anger.

  And lately, Susie couldn’t go for more than a few hours a day without bursting into tears over the most trivial matters, like what shoes to pack for her trip or the fact that Raymond refused to eat his brussels sprouts. Would her family ever be back to normal?

  Miriam gazed at her sister and longed for the other Susie— young and innocent, eager for love and happy to be alive. But that wish was impossible. Susie had lost her innocence, and there was no getting it back.

  Miriam sat next to Susie on the bed and put her arm around her. Susie rested her head on Miriam’s shoulder. “Things will get better with time,” Miriam said, taking Susie’s hand. “It’s only been a week and a half. In two weeks Yost will be able to leave the house and go back to work.”

  “I won’t be here in two weeks.”

  Miriam tried to smile even as she heard the despair in Susie’s voice. “Aren’t you glad you’ll miss the worst of it?”

  “I should be here to help Yost.”

  “I will be here for the
both of us.”

  Susie lifted her head and slid a few inches away from Miriam. “Of course. You don’t even need me.”

  Miriam took a deep breath and smothered her temper. “We will always need you, Susie. But what else is to be done?”

  “Nothing. You have taken care of it.”

  Miriam didn’t think she deserved the bitterness. It always crept into Susie’s voice now when they talked of her going away.

  Someone knocked forcefully on the front door. Miriam listened to hear if anyone downstairs would answer it. A few seconds later, another knock came. Miriam sighed. It seemed she was the only one willing to risk opening the front door these days.

  She ran down the stairs and flung open the door just as Hollow Davey Herschberger walked down the porch steps. He turned back when he heard the door open. He carried a box wrapped in cheerful yellow paper and tied with an orange ribbon.

  “I thought no one was home,” he said with a big smile on his face.

  His expression seemed foreign. How long had it been since anyone had smiled in this house? Miriam smiled weakly, grateful for a little uplift. “Come in.”

  He stomped the dust off his boots. “I hope I’m not bothering you. After all the trouble with Yost, you probably don’t want to see nobody.” He stared at Miriam as if he didn’t know what else to say on the subject. Miriam hoped he’d drop it.

  Clearing his throat, he resumed smiling. “Is Susie here? I wanted to bring her a going-away gift before she leaves next week.”

  “Jah. I will fetch her.”

  Miriam tripped up the stairs and found Susie right where she’d left her.

  “The door is for you,” she said.

  “For me? Who is it?”

  “Hollow Herschberger.”

  Susie’s eyes widened and the ghost of a grin played at the corners of her lips—the most sparkle she had shown for weeks. She bounced from the bed, straightened her kapp, and smoothed out her dress. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

  “Yes.”

  Susie raced into the washroom and examined her reflection in the small mirror before pressing a damp washrag to her face.