by Linda Byler
“Dat, is this where they’re going to live?” she asked.
“Looks like it,” Dat said.
“It all kind of hangs on a hill, doesn’t it?” asked Mam.
“Yes, it really does,” Dat said with a laugh. “But maybe that’s why he didn’t have to pay more for the property. It will be good land for pasture, no doubt.”
They arrived at the house first. Lizzie strained to take in all the sights—the horses and buggies, moving vans, trucks, and people scurrying around in every direction. Lizzie wondered if Grandma Glick was going to have chicken corn soup at this moving like they did when Dat and Mam moved to the new harness shop.
“I can’t wait to see Marvin and Elsie!” Emma said excitedly.
“Me, too!” Lizzie agreed.
They stopped, and Dat held Red’s bridle while Mam clambered out, reaching back in for Jason. She put her diaper bag over her shoulder and reached for the carrot cake under the seat. “Let Emma carry the cake, Annie,” Dat said.
“Oh, I’ll get it,” Mam said, already on her way to the house.
Emma, Lizzie, and Mandy tumbled out of the buggy and were instantly besieged in one noisy whirl, which was Marvin and Elsie.
Marvin pumped their hands up and down eagerly, followed by Elsie doing the same, saying, “Hello! Hello! Oh, it seems so long since we saw you!”
The girls giggled, grasping their aunt and uncle’s hands firmly. Marvin and Elsie were a little older, but were actually their real aunt and uncle, because Dat was the oldest in Doddy Glicks’ family, and Marvin and Elsie were the youngest of fourteen children. They were a very special aunt and uncle.
“This seems so different,” Emma said.
“But it’s so fun,” Marvin said. “We have huge hills and a pond at the bottom of the biggest one. Can you imagine how much fun that will be next winter, taking our sleds way up on top of that long hill, then coasting down and flying on the pond?” He waved his arms in the direction behind the barn, and twirled his finger to show how the sleds would spin on the ice.
Lizzie giggled, and Mandy stood aside, staring at Marvin with her large green eyes. Emma shook her head doubtfully, a worried expression on her face. “That sounds too dangerous, Marvin,” she said.
Marvin’s curls bounced up and down as he waved his arms again. “Ha, ha! That’s not dangerous. There’s nothing we could hit! You would just slide right on the pond and go TWIRLING around!”
“Let’s go look around,” Elsie said. She was always the practical one, keeping Marvin in line with her bossy, worried expression. Marvin never worried too much about what Elsie said, but between the two, they balanced each other. Lizzie and Emma thought they were absolutely perfect and admired everything they did. They even ate things that Marvin told them were good. He had informed them on a previous visit that he had just discovered how good it was to eat pretzels with water. First you took a big bite of a hard, salty pretzel, then you drank a sip of ice-cold water. When it mixed together in your mouth, it was the best thing he had ever tasted.
So whenever Lizzie ate a bite of pretzel, she drank water. Emma and Elsie said chocolate milk was better with hard pretzels, but Lizzie sided with Marvin. Actually, she never told anyone, but chocolate milk was better—she just wanted to agree with Marvin.
“Do you have pigs and beef cows already?” asked Emma.
“Dat said you aren’t going to milk cows anymore,” Lizzie added.
“Nope, we’re not. Come on, let’s go look at the barn, then we’ll go through the house. The barn is bigger than our old barn,” Marvin said.
So they all ran to the barn, Emma taking Mandy’s hand protectively. The interior of the barn was stone and concrete, smelling a bit dark and dank. The part where Doddy Glick unhitched his horses had a big stone watering trough, and rows of sturdy lumber nailed to the wall, where the big workhorses’ harnesses hung.
Next to this area was a high fenced-in part, where the heavy, lumbering beef cows milled around. Much to Lizzie’s consternation, the pigs were in the same pen with the huge, fat cows.
“Why don’t the cows tramp on those little pigs?” she asked in horror.
“I don’t know. They just don’t, I guess,” Marvin said.
“Do they eat the same food?” Emma asked.
“You mean ‘feed’,” Elsie corrected her.
“Whatever,” Emma said.
“How do you know when these cows’ meat is ready?” Lizzie wanted to know.
“Who butchers them?” piped up little Mandy.
Elsie bent low, and told them the cows were sold at an auction like the auctions Dat went to when he bought ponies. Then whoever bought them had to have them butchered at a place where they do that kind of thing, she guessed.
Marvin took them to the new chicken house, where a flock of about fifty brown hens were pecking at a long, narrow trough that had finely ground feed in it. Lizzie loved to watch the chickens eat, because they took a mouthful and their beak worked almost faster than you could see. While they were eating, their perfectly round eyes blinked, but their eyelids were on the bottom—or that’s how it seemed. Lizzie was never sure if a chicken’s eyelids came up from the bottom or the side, and she never remembered to ask Dat.
There was a row of metal cabinets on the side of the chicken house that had holes in them and a wooden perch all along the front. That was where the chickens went to lay their large brown eggs. There wasn’t much room for them, Lizzie thought, so probably that was why they were so grouchy when they sat in there.
“When do you have to get the eggs?” she asked.
“Not now. They were just moved in here, so they didn’t have much chance to lay an egg yet,” Elsie said.
“Why do a chicken’s eyes close from the bottom up?” Lizzie asked.
“They don’t,” Marvin snorted, laughing at Lizzie.
“They do.”
“No, they don’t. That’s dumb!”
“I think they do.”
“I never heard of such a thing,” Marvin argued.
“Well, watch them once.”
“I’m going to catch one and I’ll show you. Now be quiet, so I can catch one,” Marvin said.
He charged straight into the line of chickens that were peacefully pecking at their feed. The flying frenzy that followed was one squawking, dusty whirl of chickens, and Mandy screamed while the girls all rushed madly for the door. Elsie fumbled with the latch, and Lizzie coughed as they fell into the chicken yard. Mandy started crying, and Emma put her arm around her shoulders while her little sister hid her face in Emma’s apron.
Marvin came out of the henhouse, triumphantly carrying a chicken upside down by the legs. Lizzie had never seen anyone carrying a chicken, and it looked as if the poor creature was quite dead.
“Marvin!” she scolded angrily.
“What?”
“You killed that poor chicken. You’re not funny.”
“No, he didn’t. That chicken isn’t one bit dead. Look at its eyes. That’s how you carry chickens,” Elsie said indignantly.
“Oh,” said Lizzie.
“Now watch,” Marvin said.
He held up the frightened chicken, tucking down the wings with his hands, holding it firmly against his stomach.
“Now watch!”
They all bent to peer closely at the chicken, which was so terrified that her eyes were blinking in rapid movements.
“Get back!” Marvin said, clearly impatient.
“Well, we can’t see if we don’t look closely!” Elsie said.
They all watched in total silence, intently staring at the chicken’s eyes.
“See?” Lizzie said.
“See?” Marvin interrupted her. “They come from the top down.”
“No, they don’t!” Lizzie was very angry at Marvin. He just always thought he knew everything, and he didn’t. Those eyelids went up from the bottom—she just knew they did.
“Hey!”
They all jumped and whirled around, their
eyes wide, feeling very guilty because they all knew Marvin should not have been chasing those chickens. It was Uncle Samuel, who was older than they were, and who Marvin respected and tried to imitate all the time. Samuel was tall, with very curly black hair, and he always treated Marvin as if he needed to be growing up and behaving himself. Emma and Lizzie were a bit in awe of Samuel and Raymond, because they were older and did not have much time for their pesky little nieces. Samuel was holding a box, and he looked at Marvin with a patient expression.
“What are you doing with that chicken?” he asked, shifting the heavy box.
“We’re checking its eyes, to see if they close from the top or the bottom,” Marvin told him, quite seriously.
Samuel burst out laughing. “Marvin!”
“What?”
“Now go put that poor chicken away. Mam was looking for you because it’s time for coffee break, and they made hot chocolate,” Samuel said, turning to put the box in the buggy shed.
The girls ran to the house, while Marvin put the chicken back and locked the door. In the kitchen, the warm, chocolaty smell embraced them. They put away their coats and bonnets, moving in among the crowd of adults who were all talking at once, or so it seemed. Grandma Glick was hurrying between the stove and her big kitchen table, which held steaming mugs of coffee and hot chocolate. Mounds of cookies and homemade glazed doughnuts were piled on her green Melmac trays. There were different kinds of bars; some were chocolate and others had a coconut or nut topping.
Lizzie could not decide which looked better—a glazed doughnut, or a thick, chewy coconut oatmeal cookie to dip into her mug of hot chocolate. Marvin had already chosen a doughnut and was sitting on the sofa, talking to Grandpa Glick.
Elsie took Lizzie’s hand and said, “Come, Lizzie, do you want to sit here on the bench?”
Lizzie nodded, but was detained by a hand on her shoulder.
“There’s my Lizzie.” Grandma Glick’s kind face beamed down at her, as she shook Lizzie’s hand in welcome. “I haven’t seen you yet today. Are Emma and Mandy in for break, too?” she asked.
“They’re here somewhere, Mommy,” said Lizzie. “Marvin and Elsie were showing us the new barn and the chicken house. You have lots of hills here!”
“Yes, we do,” Grandma said with a smile. “It will be something to get used to. Did you see the big hill beside the house? My garden will be a bit lower than the driveway. Hello, Emma! How’s little Mandy?” She bent down to pat Mandy’s head and say a few words to Emma, and then she was rushing off again.
The aunts all took turns fussing over Lizzie, Emma, and Mandy. Mam beamed as she helped Jason with his large, sticky doughnut. Lizzie loved when the aunts teased her. They always stopped what they were doing to say hello and joke about something with them. She liked them all, and there were lots of aunts, because Dat had nine sisters. Some of them were married, and some were planning on being married soon. To Lizzie, it seemed as if they came in all shapes, sorts, and sizes. But Elsie was their favorite, by far, because she was their own age.
After everyone had enjoyed their coffee break, the work resumed. The men carried in huge pieces of furniture, grunting and groaning, joking and yelling if someone pinched a finger. A few uncles were doing plumbing work or connecting the propane gas stove and refrigerator. Grandpa Glick was giving directions, managing the placement of different articles. His wiry gray hair stuck out in every direction, and his piercing gaze didn’t miss anything. He was short of stature and very bowlegged. Lizzie often wondered why Doddy Glick’s legs were like that. She thought maybe he rode horses too much when he was little, and asked Mam once. Mam said it was just the way God had made Doddy Glick, but Lizzie never quite understood why anyone would have to have legs like that. She kept careful watch on her own legs, hoping fervently they wouldn’t go crooked like his.
She broke her coconut oatmeal cookie in half and dipped it into her hot chocolate. The cookie broke, and she grabbed a spoon, rescuing the soaked cookie. Mmmm, she thought, this is almost better than shoofly and cocoa. She finished her cookie and reached for a doughnut. She took a huge bite of it and held it away to look more closely to see if it looked like one of Homer’s doughnuts in her favorite book. It looked like a perfect doughnut and was so delicious. She finished it off in a few more big bites, reaching for another.
“Lizzie, how many doughnuts did you have?” Emma asked, looking at Lizzie with a worried expression.
“One,” Lizzie answered sourly.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, Emma. I had only one. Why can’t I have another one?”
“I guess you can; just don’t let the aunts see you or they’ll tease you. I know they will,” Emma said.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Well, okay then,” Emma muttered, lifting her hot chocolate cup and drinking carefully, because it was so hot.
“Emma.” Lizzie leaned over and whispered, “I could eat five doughnuts!”
Elsie smiled and said, “What are you saying?”
Lizzie put her hand over her mouth and giggled. She leaned over past Emma and said quietly, “I could eat five doughnuts.”
“Really?!” Elsie’s eyes opened wide.
“I bet I could—should I try?” Lizzie meant to try it.
“Mam, Lizzie is going to eat five doughnuts. Tell her she isn’t allowed to,” Emma said in desperation, catching Mam’s apron as she walked past with a heavy box of dishes to put in the kitchen cupboards.
“Lizzie! Of course not. You’ll get sick,” Mam said, hurrying past without even glancing in Lizzie’s direction.
Elsie and Emma giggled, but Lizzie’s feelings were hurt. That was just like Emma, the bossy thing. Lizzie slid off the bench abruptly and stalked off, her head held high. Well, if that’s how they were going to act, Emma and Elsie sticking together and not letting her eat doughnuts, they could just play without her. She looked all over for Marvin, but he was nowhere to be found. She looked in the living room, but it was full of aunts, cleaning, arranging things, and chattering among themselves.
She walked into the bedroom, which was already set up, clean and shining, the bed made perfectly. She wandered on, through the kitchen without even glancing at Emma and Elsie, and found a door beside the kitchen cupboards. It was a heavy door, but more narrow and not as high as most doors. Lizzie pulled it open slowly, peering into a tiny little room. It smelled like water and was damp and cool. The walls were made of gray stones, but were covered with a very shiny coat of silver-colored paint. It was so sparkling that it looked almost like aluminum foil.
Lizzie blinked and stepped carefully inside. It seemed a little spooky, because there was only one small window up high that let in a thin beam of light. There was a low stone trough that had cold water in it. Lizzie dipped her finger into it hesitantly, pulling it back out with surprise. The water was icy cold, and she noticed there were gallon jars of milk submerged in this freezing water. There was also a machine in this little room that looked as if it wasn’t good for anything—it was just something that made no sense. Lizzie touched it, and it was as cold as the water. She shivered. This little room definitely gave her the creeps, and she turned to go back out into the warm kitchen.
She grasped hold of the latch to lift it and open the door, but it would not budge. She used both hands, jerking the latch until her hands ached and were freezing. She stopped and looked around. Surely she was not going to be stuck in this horrible little room. She would freeze, she thought.
Lizzie turned back to the narrow door and resumed pounding on the latch, wondering if she should call out for someone to find her. Turning around, she noticed there was another door in an adjoining wall. Good, she thought, maybe this one will open easier. She took both hands and pulled on the latch as hard as she could, and it sprang up, the door creaking open immediately.
Warm air rushed into her face as she found herself in the area where Grandma Glick would do her laundry. She stood in the doorway and blinked, s
urprised to see where this door opened. Before she could close the door behind her, Marvin came dashing in, holding two small boxes.
“Lizzie, shut that door. What were you doing in the cooler room?” he asked bluntly.
“I don’t know,” answered Lizzie, feeling immensely relieved to be out of it, whatever kind of room it was.
“Shut the door,” Marvin said again, impatiently.
“What is this cold little room for?” Lizzie asked, closing the door firmly.
“Don’t you know?” Marvin set down his boxes and came over, pushing the door open. The little room didn’t seem half as frightening when Marvin was there, so she relaxed as he showed her what everything was for. The cold machine was called a separator. He showed her where the milk was poured in, and how you turned the handle, and the cream collected in one part, and the milk ran out into another.
“Then,” Marvin finished importantly, “we put different containers of milk and cream in that ice-cold water to keep it cold. Anyhow, Lizzie, you’re not really supposed to be in here, because it has to stay really, really clean.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Lizzie snapped.
“You didn’t, of course not. But stay out now.” And with that, Marvin picked up the two boxes and continued on his way. Lizzie wanted to ask him where he was going and what he was doing, but she didn’t, because she kind of felt like crying. Everybody was just so bossy, and this moving day was not very fun. She wished it was time to go home, because she felt so sad.
She pushed open the screen door and stood outside against the brick wall. The sun felt warm, but the air was cold enough that she turned to get her coat and head scarf.
“Hey, Lizzie!”
Lizzie turned to see Uncle Samuel with Nicky, Grandpa Glicks’ fast pony, hitched to the shining black cart. “Get your coat and kopp-duch and you can ride along over to Ben’s farm to get a cable. Tell your mom,” he said.
Lizzie’s heart beat rapidly, and her breath came in gasps as she hurried to tell Mam. She flung her coat over her shoulders, holding her scarf in her teeth as she buttoned her coat frantically. Elsie and Emma rushed into the washhouse and asked where she was going.
