A Simple Singing

by Leslie Gould

  “Want to sneak out for some air?” he asked, his voice still low.

  Now, that was something that actually appealed me. “Sure,” I said. “Let’s go out the back.” No one would notice we’d left, I was sure.

  After we’d bundled up on the back porch, Elijah suggested we go to the barn.

  I shook my head, not wanting to bump into Gordon again. But I didn’t tell Elijah that. “Let’s go to the shop. We can see if anything still needs to be cleaned up in there.”

  I wasn’t sure if Elijah would want to help with that sort of thing, but he responded with a positive, “Good idea.”

  We couldn’t speak as we trudged outside. I could barely keep my balance and manage to keep breathing. On the other side of the fence, out in the pasture, the old oak tree’s snow-covered branches swayed in the icy wind. The sight made me shiver all the more.

  It wasn’t until we reached the shop and Elijah had flung the door open, and then forced it shut against another gust, that he sputtered, “You can’t imagine how thankful I’ll be to get back to Florida.”

  “I bet,” I answered. “When do you leave?”

  “After Christmas.”

  “So you won’t stay for the Epiphany?”

  He shook his head. “January starts our busy season. I need to be back before the crowds arrive.”

  I knew of people who spent weeks and sometimes even months in Pinecraft, Florida, each winter, but no one from our family had ever gone. The truth was, I didn’t like to travel far from home, and going to Florida always seemed excessive. I especially balked at the saying, “What happens in Pinecraft, stays in Pinecraft.” It sounded so fallacious. But I had to admit, the warmer weather was appealing, especially during weather like we’d been having.

  The temperature in the shop had definitely fallen since the service, but it was still bearable. The propane heaters had been turned off and all of the benches had been moved out, but there were still some folding chairs that had been put into use that we usually stored in the back room. We moved those, even though furniture from the house was stored there too, and then grabbed two brooms and began to sweep.

  As we worked, Elijah asked me about Amos. I told him about my brother leaving sixteen years ago and then returning last March for Dat’s funeral. “This is the first time any of us have met his daughter. We didn’t even know she existed until last spring.”

  “None of you knew?”

  “Well, Dat did,” I said. “And he told Mamm at some point.” It sounded as odd as it was. I would have never guessed that Dat would be one to keep secrets.

  I didn’t want Elijah to ask why Becca had been cold to me, so I changed the subject and asked him about Florida.

  “Well,” he said, “it’s as warm as you’ve heard. Of course it’s downright hot in the summer, but very comfortable in the winter. And it’s always a lot of fun. Plain folks come from around here, of course, but also from Ohio and even Indiana, plus there are a lot of great Englischer tourists and residents too. I’ve met lots of fascinating people.”

  I was afraid I wouldn’t fit that category.

  “I work in a bakery, both in the kitchen and at the front counter. I live in a house with a group of other Youngie.” He grinned. “All guys. We have a revolving door. Some workers come for a few months—others for a long amount of time. Some of us are there all year round.”

  Hoping he’d keep talking about Florida, I said, “Remind me how long you’ve been down there.”

  “Off and on for the last three years.”

  We’d been eighteen when he left.

  “How long do you plan to stay?” I reached the far wall of the shed and shook out my broom.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “Probably not for long.” He grinned again. “I’m not getting any younger.”

  “What does that mean?” I teased.

  He laughed. “Well, my parents are pressuring me to come home and settle down.”

  “But perhaps you’ll find a girl from Ohio or Indiana and leave Lancaster County altogether.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I expected him to grin again, but instead, with a serious expression on his face, he said, “I plan to come home by summer—maybe even late spring—and help my Dat farm. My parents have offered me the land, and that’s hard to pass up.”

  I didn’t say anything, afraid I might come across as too enthusiastic. Instead, I thought of my rant on the way to the barn just a couple of hours earlier. Was Elijah who the Lord had in mind for me all along? He was going to farm, in our district. And I’d been enamored with him since I was a girl. I breathed a prayer asking for forgiveness for my earlier negativity. Then again, it hadn’t been all rant. Not really. It had been part prayer. Was God answering it already?

  Elijah added, “I didn’t like farming much before, but I know I can’t work in a bakery for half the day and play on the beach for the other for the rest of my life.”

  I kept sweeping, thinking about the Jacobses’ old farmhouse. It was in tip-top shape and wouldn’t need any updating. And it was only a few miles from our farm. Perhaps God had heard the desires of my heart. I could be marrying Elijah on our farm by next fall . . . but in late October or early November, when the weather wouldn’t be icy cold.

  I was enjoying hiding out in the shed with Elijah. He’d run with a wild group after he turned sixteen, while I didn’t run at all because I’d already committed to living a life I’d never regret. By the time I was eighteen, I’d joined the church, as I always knew I would, and never looked back. Hanging out with Elijah now felt daring, for me, but oddly comfortable too. Mamm often said that opposites attract, pointing out that she was a homebody while Dat loved adventures. Plus, she was a rule follower like me, while Dat had been more open to other ideas—not in the same way as Elijah though. The point was, being different had worked out just fine for them. At least it seemed so to me.

  As Elijah pivoted upon completing another row of sweeping, the shed door swung open and Gordon stepped inside, clapping his gloved hands together. “There you are,” he said to me. “Your Mamm sent me to find you.” He motioned toward the broom. “I’ll finish the sweeping.”

  “Oh, it can wait,” I said. “We were just taking a break from the crowd.”

  “No,” Gordon said. “There’s nothing else I need to do.”

  “Should I stay and help?” Elijah asked.

  Gordon shook his head. “Go back to the house. It won’t take me long.” He smiled kindly at both of us.

  But as I handed my broom to Gordon, I detected a bit of sadness in his eyes as his hand brushed against mine.

  “Denki,” I said. “You’re always so thoughtful.”

  He smiled, but then turned toward Elijah.

  “So you’ve been living in Florida.”

  Elijah nodded. “Jah, in Sarasota.”

  “Not Pinecraft?”

  Elijah shook his head. “I hang out there a lot, but I’m closer to the beach.”

  “I’ve been going to Sarasota in January for the last three years with a group from my church to work in a shelter. We’ll be going again next month.”

  “I’ve had a few groups like that come into the bakery where I work. They usually stay at that Mennonite church a little north of the shelter.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “That’s not really my thing, but I appreciate you pitching in,” Elijah said. “I’ll see you around then.” He grinned. “Here and down there, maybe.”

  Gordon held up his hand in a wave, and Elijah opened the door. I pulled my cape tight and stepped back into the wind. We didn’t speak until we reached the back porch.

  “Is Gordon one of those do-gooders? One of those overzealous people who just don’t know when to quit?” Elijah held the door for me.

  “I do know that he does a lot of volunteer work,” I answered, thankful to be out of the wind. “He seems to care a lot about others.” When Elijah didn’t answer, I asked, “Why?”

  �
��Oh, we just see a lot of church groups who are looking for an experience. As if claiming to work in a shelter or a soup kitchen is an excuse to go on a trip when they should just book a vacation instead.” He laughed a little as he wiggled out of his coat.

  “Oh,” I said, but then felt compelled to add, “I don’t think that’s how it is with Gordon. He seems to genuinely care about others.”

  Elijah nodded. “He definitely seems like a decent guy—even if he is Mennonite.”

  “Says the guy who hasn’t joined his church yet,” I teased, hanging up my cape.

  “Hey.” Elijah hung his coat on the peg next to my cape. “I will soon. I promise.”

  2

  Elijah stayed for the evening meal, even though his parents had left long before. When I asked how he was getting home, he patted the pocket of the down vest he’d worn in the house all day and said, “Billy.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Billy Lapp,” he whispered. “Do you know him?”

  I shook my head.

  “He’s my buddy from Florida. We’re roommates down there.” He took out his phone. It wasn’t a flip phone, but a fancy one with the Internet and all that.

  “Oh.” I guessed he planned to call his friend—or probably text him.

  Because I’d joined the church at eighteen and hadn’t been one to run around anyway, I didn’t know much about cell phones. I guessed that might make me seem awfully quaint to Elijah, who appeared to be quite familiar with the ways of the world.

  We were standing at the opposite end of a table from Amos and Arden, while Becca sat with Aenti Suz, Mamm, and my sister-in-law, Vi, at another table.

  “Come join us,” Mamm called out to me, patting the seat beside her.

  Elijah nudged me. “I’ll catch you later,” he said. “Before I leave.”

  I sat down with the other women in my family. Soon Elijah joined Arden and Amos. They were soon laughing, although I couldn’t tell at what.

  Vi asked Becca all sorts of questions about school. What did she study? Everything she possibly could. How were her grades? She had a four point GPA. Were her classmates wild? No. Did she date? No, she was only fourteen. Did she drive a car? Only on her grandparents’ ranch—but she’d get her license as soon as she turned sixteen. Did she go to church? Of course. Even though she was only a freshman in high school, she already planned to go on to college to study animal medicine. She answered each question with confidence, although she wasn’t arrogant. She turned to me and asked if I went to college.

  “Oh no,” I answered. “My education ended with the eighth grade.”

  A confused expression fell over Becca’s face. “What do you mean?”

  “Your Dat didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Aenti Suz took over, probably afraid I might shame the poor girl. “Our schools go through the eighth grade. After that, scholars might take up a trade, apprentice with someone in the community, or do correspondence courses. Our philosophy is that education never ends, even though school does. We learn the basics and then specialize in what we need after that.”

  “Oh.” Becca stayed silent for a moment and then asked, “But what about your third sister? Why can she become a nurse?”

  “Because she didn’t join the church,” I answered, a little annoyed at Amos’s failure to educate his daughter about our ways.

  She still seemed confused, and not because she wasn’t smart. She obviously was. Were we really that odd to her?

  “How about a piece of apple pie?” Aenti Suz asked Becca.

  She nodded. “Yes, please.”

  Aenti Suz turned her attention to me. “How about you?”

  I nodded.

  As she stood and left the table, Becca asked Vi about her cousins—Milton, Leroy, Luke, Brenda, and Pam.

  “They already went back to our house,” Vi said.

  Becca’s face fell. “I was hoping to get better acquainted with them.”

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” Vi said, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she and Arden wanted to keep their kids away from Becca. I knew they’d been leery of Jessica’s influence on their family, until she returned to the Amish. Brenda was four years younger than Becca, and I imagined she found her cousin fascinating.

  As Aenti Suz returned with the pie, Gordon came through the kitchen with his coat and boots still on, a concerned expression on his face. He searched the crowd for a moment, spotted me, and mouthed, “Where’s Arden?”

  I pointed behind me.

  “Thanks.” He hurried around our table.

  “Who’s that?” Becca asked.

  “Our farmhand, Gordon.”

  “Did he only go through the eighth grade too?”

  “Actually, he graduated high school,” I answered, cutting into the pie and inhaling the sweetness, along with the hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. “He’s Mennonite.” Conservative Mennonite, to be exact, which meant he could drive a plain black car, have a high school education, and play a guitar.

  “Oh.” Becca smiled as she lifted a bite of pie from her plate toward her mouth. “He’s cute.”

  She was right. He was handsome with his dark hair and intense brown eyes.

  She swallowed. “And he has a normal haircut.”

  Gordon’s hair was thick and wavy, so it fell nicely around his head, and his cut didn’t look as Plain as the Amish style. I hadn’t noticed before.

  She scooped up another bite of pie. “So could you marry him?”

  “What?” I sputtered.

  “You know, if you two were dating.” She slipped her fork into her mouth.

  I shook my head. “First of all, the Amish court—we don’t date.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “And, no, a member of the Amish church can’t marry a Mennonite. We can only marry another person who has been baptized in our church and is in good standing. Allowing mixed marriages would destabilize our communities.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Weird.”

  I took a deep breath, reminding myself it wasn’t Becca’s fault she didn’t understand our ways.

  She turned in her seat, her fork still in her hand, most likely to examine Gordon a little more closely, but instead her eyes fell on Elijah. “He’s cute too. Is he Amish?”

  “Born and raised,” I said. “But he hasn’t joined the church yet. Plus, he lives in Florida.”

  “Really?” Becca turned back around. “That’s surprising.”

  Vi started to explain about Plain people vacationing in Pinecraft and some of the Youngie going down there to work. I didn’t listen though. I was trying to hear what Gordon was saying to Arden, but both of my brothers stood and started to follow Gordon without my catching a word of what was going on. But then Amos stopped at our table and told Becca a cow was having a hard delivery. “Want to come watch?”

  She immediately pushed back the bench and abandoned her half-eaten piece of pie. “Of course!” Her enthusiasm reminded me of Jessica. In fact, it was a good thing Jessica was in the living room or she probably would have wanted to go out with the others too.

  “Come on,” Amos said to Becca and then glanced down at me. “Is there a work coat we can borrow?”

  “Sure.” I slid my fork under my last bit of pie. “Jessica’s old coat is on the back porch—it’s the rattiest one out there.”

  Singing started in the living room and Mamm said to me, “Go join the other Youngie. I know how much you enjoy the music.”

  I nodded. I did. It would have been fun for Gordon with his rich baritone voice to join us, but I knew he was needed in the barn. I quickly finished my last bite and then picked up my plate and Becca’s too.

  As I stood, I realized that Elijah hadn’t joined the others. He still sat on the bench, finishing his pie.

  “Aren’t you going with the men?” I asked him.

  He grinned. “I’m no help when it comes to cows.”

  I shook my head. “What are you talking about? You’re going to take ov
er your family farm.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

  I nodded toward the living room. “Want to join in on the singing?”

  He wrinkled his nose and then yawned. “Actually, I think I’ll head home.”

  He followed me toward the kitchen. As he caught up with me, he whispered, “Do you ever get tired of singings and volleyball games? Hay rides? And frolics?” I could feel his breath on my neck.

  I turned around slowly, facing him. “Actually, I don’t,” I whispered back and then smiled.

  He laughed and spoke normally. “You always were a rule follower.” He paused for a moment. “But, speaking of singings, will you go to the one on Sunday with me?”

  I stepped backward, nearly tripping over my own feet. Finally, I managed to stutter, “You want to go to the singing?” He hadn’t gone to singings even before he left for Florida.

  “Jah, it’s at my folks’ place,” he replied, clearly enjoying my surprise. “We’ll have a lot of fun. You’ll see.”

  Two hours later, all of the festivities of the wedding day were over and the dishes were all washed and the food put away. We wouldn’t return the benches to the church wagon until the next morning though, when it was light outside. Silas and Jessica were spending their wedding night upstairs in what used to be Mamm’s sewing room. There was no reason for them to venture to their new home on the Stoltz farm, where Silas worked, and then return the next day to help with cleaning up after the wedding and moving the furniture back.

  I was just heading up the stairs when Becca returned to the house with the men. I kept going.

  “Wait,” Mamm called out to me.

  I pivoted slowly and returned to the living room, yawning. I’d been up since four in the morning and was more than ready to go to bed.

  “Becca’s going to sleep in your room.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hold on,” Mamm said and then offered Gordon a piece of pie and cup of coffee before he went home. I didn’t think he’d take Mamm up on her offer, but he did. He drove a car, a very plain one, so it wasn’t like he’d be freezing in a buggy and need a cup of coffee before he left.