The Stone Wall

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The Stone Wall Page 11

by Beverly Lewis


  Anna was delighted. She had observed both the leaders and the side walkers last weekend, and her experience with her father’s ponies meant that she could easily be a rider, too, if necessary. “Denki, but how’d you recognize me just now?”

  “Oh, Gabe described ya perfectly,” Dottie said, eyes twinkling. “Said you’re Beachy, so I knew what sort of clothing to look for.”

  “Do you have Beachy relatives or friends, then?”

  Still beaming, Dottie bobbed her head. “Several friends, jah.”

  Anna followed her into the large tack room, where saddles, bridles, horse blankets, bits, and wraps were neatly organized. “I want to learn as much as I possibly can,” Anna said as she eyed the well-organized space.

  “Gabe says you’ll do just fine, so don’t ya worry none.”

  Anna recalled what he had said last Saturday about her being a natural. She certainly didn’t want to disappoint him or Dottie.

  Once the barn volunteers had tacked up all the horses, an instructor directed the horses and their riders to head over to the round pen, each accompanied by two side walkers, a leader, and sometimes a parent. For this morning, Dottie asked Anna to closely observe the side walkers for a boy named Bennie Glick. She explained that Bennie got around with forearm crutches and was always helped onto the horse by his father, one of the preachers of the local Amish church district.

  “Preacher Glick’s over here first thing every Saturday with that little boy of his,” Dottie added.

  While the two side walkers held on to young Bennie’s legs, steadying him, one of the volunteers quickly carried the boy’s crutches over near the gate, where they were propped up outside the pen.

  “Remember that, as a side walker, you’ll be responsible for the rider’s safety; the leader is responsible for the horse. Unless you’re told otherwise, it’s your job to always hold on to the rider,” Dottie explained. “Of course, we do have some riders who are more capable and can balance themselves in the saddle.”

  Anna listened carefully even though Dottie had also given her a sheet of instructions to look over at home.

  “We create an individual therapy plan for each student,” Dottie continued as one of the side walkers got Bennie positioned on the sleek black horse, its body glistening in the sunshine. “Some need to build confidence, and others need soothing for anxiety. We don’t focus so much on the particular disability as we do the student’s specific needs.”

  Anna nodded, eager to be ready to do this on her own in two weeks. She and Dottie remained outside the fence while Dottie pointed out what Bennie’s side walkers were doing. “A lot of it’s common sense, really.”

  Today Gabe was also inside the pen as a side walker, moving slowly around the circle while holding on to Emmie, the petite blond girl Anna had seen last week—she couldn’t be older than five. Anna noticed again how caring and gentle Gabe was. Especially with the smallest children.

  One of the horses neighed, and then another. But generally, the only sounds were those of the horses’ hooves as they moved about.

  Toward the end of the first session, Dottie asked if Anna had any questions.

  “I do.” Anna smiled. “Would I be able to try walking with one of the steadier riders today?”

  “You’re itchin’ to get started, ain’t ya?”

  “I’d really love to.”

  Dottie explained that Gabe was firm in thinking that volunteers required a minimum of two sessions of training before they were trusted to do it on their own. “I’m sure you understand.”

  Anna agreed. “Of course.”

  Dottie pointed to the stapled sheets of paper. “Be sure to familiarize yourself with everything by next Saturday, okay? Remember that children who are on the autism spectrum are encouraged to say their horse’s name and, when they’re ready, give it commands. By doing that yourself while side walking, you’ll encourage the child to do it, too.”

  “I’ll try to have all of this memorized soon,” Anna assured her.

  “And I’ll ask ya questions, just to make sure you’re ready.” Dottie turned her attention back to the horse pen. “You’ll love lending a hand here. Gabe is so great with all the volunteers . . . you’ll see.”

  “You’ve been so helpful,” Anna told Dottie. “I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. I look forward to seein’ you next week.” Dottie invited her to stay around for the next session if she had time. “The more you observe the other volunteers in action, the more everything will sink in. It won’t be long before you’ll feel like you’re a part of the group.”

  Anna thanked her again and headed toward the stable to watch the many volunteers gently assist the children down from the well-behaved horses. Once the riders had dismounted, most rewarded their horses with sugar cubes, the horses lowering their heads to accept the treat.

  Anna saw Gabe lift Freckles down from Apple. The boy laughed and gave him a hug before Gabe went over to help a couple other little ones remove their helmets, grinning at them as they smiled back, one jabbering in Deitsch about all the fun she’d had. In fact, Anna noticed a lot more noise in the stable at the end of the riding session than at the start of it, and she wondered what effect it had on the horses. They’re surely older and more difficult to spook, or they wouldn’t have been selected. Like her father’s more mature ponies, these horses were obviously far more comfortable with commotion and people than the average horse would be.

  A large passenger van pulled in close to the edge of the pasture, coming to pick up the children from this first session, and Anna noticed Dottie and some other volunteers either carry or walk with the youngest ones toward the van.

  The day was warming up quickly, the sky a pale blue without a cloud to be seen. At that moment, Gabe caught her eye and waved as he came this way. She waited in the shade of the stable, curious to see what was up.

  “Did ya enjoy getting acquainted with Dottie?” he asked, running his fingers under his black suspenders, all the way up to his broad shoulders.

  Anna tapped on the sheets in her hand. “She was very thorough, but she wants me to study these pages, as well.”

  “She’s a teacher, all right.” He paused to wave just then to one of the dads about to climb into the van. “Dottie is my cousin’s daughter, by the way. She’s been helpin’ me here since she was seventeen.”

  “No wonder she knows her way around.” Anna noticed how he brightened at the compliment.

  “If there’s anything ya need to know, Dottie’s the one to ask. Well, besides me.” He chuckled. “I hope ya enjoyed yourself, Anna.”

  “Oh, I did. The staff and horses seem great, and the children are just darling. It must be encouraging for you to know they’re being helped by your wunnerbaar program.”

  “Ain’t mine, really.” Gabe raised his eyes toward the sky. “The Lord God put all this on my heart. It’s all His.”

  Anna was impressed by his humility. “Well, He’s entrusting you with it, that’s obvious.”

  Gabe seemed to ponder that, then looked at her, smiled, and nodded. “I never thought of it quite like that.”

  She studied him. “You could say I like to look for God’s fingerprints everywhere.”

  He glanced away, as if moved by her words. “It was the Lord’s work from the very start,” he said. “I opened up this therapy program after Emmie, my little girl, became mute . . . she stopped talking when her Mamma died.” He paused for a moment as if to gather himself. “She seemed much calmer and less agitated after riding—being around horses is just so good for her. It made me want to help other children with needs and challenges of their own.”

  Emmie’s his daughter! Anna thought, remembering the petite little girl she’d seen among the riders. “Denki for sharing this with me,” she said. “You must’ve had lots of help to get all this started.”

  “People came out of the woodwork, honestly. My uncle has been especially great, offering his farm like he has. I couldn’t have done it singleh
andedly.”

  She nodded, still absorbing all that he’d told her, truly impressed.

  “Well,” Gabe said, “I’ll be seein’ ya next Saturday, then.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and observe the next session,” she said, remembering what Dottie had suggested.

  He agreed, and they parted ways.

  Anna headed back to the tack room to offer her help, her heart softened all the more by Gabe’s mission here, and the reason behind it.

  Gabe’s explanation about the beginnings of Peaceful Meadows stayed with Anna as she drove down the narrow lane toward the road. Making the turn, she was aware of the long stone wall running along the edge of the retreat’s pastureland, within walking distance from the road. And, as she slowly drove alongside it, she noticed one small portion of the wall had tumbled down. Compelled to remedy it, she signaled and pulled over onto the right shoulder, coming to a stop.

  Getting out, she crossed the two-lane road and made her way across the field, toward the wall separating it from the pasture beyond, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the thick green meadow grass so much that she removed her socks and old sneakers, carrying them as her bare feet pressed deep into the coolness of the grassland.

  She stuffed the socks into the shoes before setting them on the ground. Then she picked up the stones that had tumbled down and began to lift them one by one, stacking them in an orderly fashion, the way they seemed to fit best. Stepping back, she brushed her hands together, slapping off the dirt.

  The dust of history, she thought, pleased with her efforts.

  Anna retrieved her shoes and turned to look down the field at the stony row extending a long way on this side of the road. She recalled Mammi Eliza’s remark about meeting someone at such a wall, ever so long ago. Anna even stopped to look around for a tall tree, but there was none.

  Shaking her head, she headed back to the car.

  Chapter 19

  SUNDAY, JUNE 20, 1948

  It was a warm and humid June evening with a silvery white full moon as Eliza made her way down the narrow road, still wearing her for-good black dress and white organdy cape apron. She’d worn them to the Beachy meetinghouse that Lord’s Day morning, then returned to Great-aunt Joanna’s to sit with her on the back porch and read aloud from the Good Book. Eliza had also spent quite a bit of that afternoon writing letters home to her older sister and Mamma, so she hadn’t even bothered to change her clothes.

  Leaving the house after supper hadn’t turned out to be as much of a challenge as Eliza had thought. She simply mentioned wanting to go for a walk, and oddly, Aunt Joanna hadn’t seemed to mind, nor did she question. She must be tired and nearly ready to turn in, Eliza thought.

  Now barefoot, Eliza tiptoed through the verdant pastureland, hoping not to be heard or seen. For sure and for certain, it was the first time she’d done anything like this. Dat and Mamma would disapprove. . . .

  She hadn’t forgotten how surprised and pleased Eb Lapp had looked when they’d bumped into each other at market yesterday. Since meeting him, she had seen him a number of times while running errands for her aunt. This time, though, he had suggested they meet privately, over near the towering pin oak tree on this side of a long row of loosely stacked old stones that formed a boundary, defining the property line between two fields. Eliza had objected at first, unsure what it could mean for her or for their budding attraction if they were found out. But Eb insisted it was the best place to talk. “We won’t be noticed there once twilight falls.”

  Eliza could see the outgoing young man coming toward her in the near distance. He swung one leg and then the other over the stone wall before ambling across the grass, waving now.

  Unusual as Ebenezer Lapp was, Eliza couldn’t deny being drawn to him after talking with him several times in the weeks since her arrival—both on the road to buy eggs from Nellie Petersheim and at Saturday market, too. Because he was Old Order Amish and she was from a less traditional Amish sect, they had to be discreet about their conversations. She was, however, quite sure he found her pleasing. Even so, she hoped it wasn’t just that she was an out-of-town girl and raised “part Amish, part Mennonite,” as Eb had said at least twice lately. She wanted it to be more than curiosity on his part that had caused him to invite her to meet him beneath the bright moon tonight.

  Silently, she moved through the meadow grass and past wild black-eyed Susans, until Eb called out, “Eliza . . . you’re here.” The way he said it sounded as if he’d doubted she’d come.

  Her voice was trapped in her throat as she slowed her pace and stopped walking, suddenly worried she was making a dreadful mistake.

  Chapter 20

  The first thing Anna noticed upon returning to the Flauds’ was Glen and Sadie’s blond grandsons, Marcus and Eddy, sitting along the porch railing, legs dangling as they chewed on red licorice sticks. She hurried to get out of the car, looking forward to renewing her acquaintance with them.

  “Hullo, Cousin Anna,” Marcus, the older one, said, looking her way. “Mammi invited us over to have dinner with ya.”

  “I was hoping to see you again.” Anna went up the porch steps and stood there smiling at the two of them in their white short-sleeved shirts and black trousers. “You look schee!”

  “Dawdi Flaud said to spruce up for ya,” young Eddy explained.

  “Well, that was thoughtful.” Anna glanced down at her old sneakers. “I best be doin’ the same for you.”

  Marcus gave her a grin. “Were ya out with the horses over at Peaceful Meadows?”

  “Jah.”

  “Was Gabe there?” Eddy asked.

  “How do you know him?” she asked, curious.

  “He goes to our church,” Eddy said, big blue eyes shining.

  “And he builds the best tree houses,” Marcus announced, unexpectedly turning around and leaping off the railing onto the porch.

  “And he calls me Ready-Eddy, like Dat and Mamma,” said Eddy.

  Anna laughed. “I’ll remember that.”

  Eddy looked over his shoulder at his brother. “Marcus doesn’t rhyme with anything, so he’s just plain Marcus.”

  “Nothin’ wrong with that.” Anna remembered telling Martin Nolt that she was just plain Anna. “Sounds like something a brother might say, and with six older brothers, I should know.”

  Marcus and Eddy exchanged grins.

  Anna walked toward the back door. “Let’s see what your Mammi’s up to, okay?”

  “I’ll open the door for ya,” Eddy said, running ahead of her and turning the knob on the screen door. “Dat says a gut man likes to help out the womenfolk.”

  “Denki,” Anna said and walked inside. This will be fun, she thought of the upcoming noon meal.

  ———

  Sadie stirred in the sour cream to complete the dill vegetable dip, knowing how much Marcus and Eddy enjoyed eating their raw veggies that way. She could hear Anna just outside talking to them, glad Anna was back in time for all of them to sit down together.

  Hopefully Glen will return from the turkey house soon, Sadie thought as she placed the clear glass bowl of dip on a tray with the carrots, celery, and sliced green peppers fanned around it.

  Then, going to the oven, she opened the door and checked on her barbeque chicken chunks. Looks done! She reached for her quilted oven mittens and removed the large baking pan, then set it atop the stove. By the time Glen arrived and got washed up, she would have generous sandwiches made and on plates. She liked to use hamburger buns for this recipe, since the juices and filling tended to overflow a bit. Six-year-old Eddy particularly liked the buns because, as he said, he could get his hands around them.

  Marcus, nine, was more interested in how spicy certain foods were. So today, she’d added some red pepper flakes into her homemade barbeque sauce, just for him.

  Sadie knew for sure that the dessert she’d made would please everyone at the table—strawberry shortcake with heavy whipping cream and fresh strawberries on top.<
br />
  She turned to see Anna coming in the back door, followed by smiley Eddy, and Marcus behind them. “Chust in time,” she called, watching the boys hang up their straw hats on the wooden pegs. She ruffled Eddy’s golden locks and motioned him toward the sink. “Wash up quick before Dawdi comes. He’ll be hungry the minute he walks in.”

  “I think we’re all hungry,” Anna said, removing her sneakers and socks. “Ah, feels so gut to go barefoot again.”

  “How was your training this morning?” Sadie asked, curious.

  While she waited her turn to wash her hands, Anna told about some of the things she’d learned. “Those horses are real special . . . calm and gentle with the children.”

  “S’posin’ you’re meeting plenty-a new folk, too,” Sadie said, making the last barbeque chicken sandwich at the counter.

  “Jah, I’m getting acquainted with the volunteers. With so many young riders, they need quite a few. My instructor seemed close to my age.” Anna glanced at the boys. “Maybe you know Dottie, too?”

  Marcus shook his head, and Eddy wrinkled his nose as if trying to remember. “Not unless she came along when Gabe and his crew put together our tree house,” Eddy said.

  Her potholder in hand, Sadie smiled at the mention of Gabe’s name. “A real fine young man, that one,” she said for Anna’s sake. “All of us had a wunnerbaar time talkin’ with him when he was here.”

  “Is the Peaceful Meadows therapy program funded by the community?” Anna asked.

  “Oh jah, plenty-a folk give of their time and money to keep it goin’,” Sadie said. “There’s even an occasional pie bake-off where support comes rollin’ in. Glen can tell ya more ’bout all that if you ask him.” She glanced toward the door, expecting him to walk in at any moment.

 

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