Andrew

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Andrew was more than puzzled when he realized exactly where they were headed. From a safe distance, he followed Mary and the twins into the large tent where chairs and tables, desks and chests were waiting to be auctioned off. There toward the back, sitting next to a cradle, was Andrew’s little piece of woodwork. How had Alfie and Benji known, when Andrew hadn’t even had the courage to tell Mamm and Dat?

  Benji pointed to the child-sized chair that Andrew had spent two weeks making in his little shop in the barn. He’d sanded it so smooth that no child would ever get a sliver, and the deep walnut stain made the chair seem to glow from the inside. He’d finished it two days ago and asked Luke Bontrager to bring it to the auction for him.

  “Andrew made it,” Alfie said.

  “Ach, du lieva,” Mary whispered. Despite her condition, she knelt down beside his chair and ran her fingers along the curved armrests. “Andrew, it is beautiful.”

  His heart banged around in his chest and nearly came up his throat. “It’s not much.”

  “Not much?” she said. “Andrew, it’s wunderbarr.”

  Even though he was trying to remember she was a sinner—and a big one—a ribbon of warmth curled around Andrew’s gut and pulled itself tight. It shouldn’t matter what Mary thought of his chair, because he was determined to avoid her from now on and forever. But the way she almost reverently stroked the seat and ran her fingers along the spindles made him think that maybe she was being completely sincere and maybe he did have some skill after all. Maybe he could make a living making furniture instead of peanut butter, and maybe Mamm wouldn’t even dream of being cross with him about it.

  “Andrew sneaks in the barn every night and makes stuff,” Alfie said.

  “Don’t rattle on like that, Alfie.”

  “But it’s true. The window in the cellar . . .” Alfie’s voice trailed off to nothing, as if he’d forgotten what he was going to say.

  How did he know such things? Mamm knew about Andrew’s tools, but she didn’t know how many hours he spent shaping scraps of wood into something beautiful. She didn’t pay attention to the times he’d gone to Luke Bontrager’s workshop to use the power tools. She just didn’t know.

  Mary’s face clouded with concern. What had brought on that reaction? “You sneak?”

  “I don’t really sneak, but Mamm thinks it’s a waste of time. I don’t want to have to explain to her every time I go out.”

  Alfie walked all the way around the chair as if he was inspecting it. “He doesn’t want Mamm and Dat to know about it.”

  Mary nodded, never taking her eyes from his face. Her gaze was a little unnerving. “Sometimes it’s hard with parents. I can understand that.”

  She didn’t think that her situation and his were similar, did she? She’d run off and gotten herself in trouble. Her parents were understandably upset. Mamm wanted his mind on peanut butter, not woodworking. He didn’t want her to be mad, so he kept it from her.

  Mary ran her hand along the back of the chair. “You have real skill, Andrew.”’

  He hung his head like any man would do who was tempted to be proud. “I’m nothing, really. Luke Bontrager makes chests and tables and rockers.”

  “I’m only being honest. Honesty is not a sin, Andrew.”

  “Pride is.”

  Benji sat on the ground with Mary. “Andrew made me a box for my rock collection.”

  “Did he?”

  “Jah. It has a secret way to open it.”

  Mary smiled. “I’m sure he’s very clever.”

  It alarmed Andrew that he liked that smile so much. He cleared his throat and pushed away that warm, fuzzy feeling that threatened to overcome his gute sense. He and the boys shouldn’t even be talking to Mary. They were all going to stay away from her, starting now. “We need to go. It’s almost the lunch rush.”

  Alfie made a face. “Abraham and Austin are there. We’d only be in the way.”

  Andrew couldn’t look Mary in the eye. “Mamm needs us back for the lunch rush.”

  Mary’s smile faltered. Andrew didn’t know how he knew, but Mary saw right through his ploy. Guilt nagged at him like a pesky mosquito. Fortunately, the buzzing was faint and easy to ignore.

  “Denki for showing me Andrew’s chair, and denki for teaching me the secret trick of the peanut butter and honey.” She held out her hand to Benji, and they shook on it as if they were doing a business deal.

  Benji shrugged. “That’s not really a secret trick, but most people don’t know about it. Alfie made it up.”

  She shook Alfie’s hand as well. “Denki for making up the secret peanut butter and honey trick. I’ll never eat my pretzels the same way again.” She was still sitting on the ground next to Andrew’s chair. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “Leave now, and I will count to twenty—no, thirty—before I come out. That way no one will know that we were in here talking together. I’ll even take the long way around to Bitsy’s tent. Then no one will suspect we even know each other.” Andrew hadn’t felt this ashamed since Mammi Martha had caught him dumping her asparagus casserole in the garbage. The shame was worse because there was a small part of him that felt relief at not being forced to walk all the way to the Petersheim Brothers Peanut Butter tent in the company of Mary Coblenz—the pregnant, unmarried girl who couldn’t seem to muster any shame for herself.

  “But, Mary,” Benji said, his gaze flicking in Andrew’s direction, “we can’t leave you. Mamm says you’re in a delicate condition.”

  Mary studied Benji’s face, perhaps wondering what else Mamm had said about her. “Do you know what that means, Benji?”

  Andrew had to put a stop to this conversation. The twins might get the idea that it was normal to be pregnant. Ach, vell, of course it was normal to be pregnant. Lots of women were pregnant, but it would be best not to give Alfie and Benji any ideas. “We need to go.”

  “I know what a delicate condition means,” Benji said, loud enough that the few people milling about the tent paused and perked up their ears while pretending not to listen.

  “We are not going to talk about this,” Andrew hissed, but Benji didn’t seem to hear him. He probably had too much dirt in his ears, even though Mammi Martha had bought each of them their own special washcloth.

  Benji only knew how to speak at one volume, and it was not soft. “It means you’re going to have a buplie, and Mamm says it’s a disgrace that your mamm won’t take care of you. She thinks I don’t listen.” Benji squinted out of one eye. “But I don’t know what disgrace means.”

  Andrew was taken aback. That was Mamm’s opinion of Mary’s mater? Didn’t she think Mary should be punished for her sins?

  Mary’s face turned a dark shade of red, sweat beaded on her upper lip, and she pressed her lips together as if she’d never speak again. Andrew barely knew Mary. He’d spent maybe twenty minutes with her altogether, but this was the first time he’d seen her genuinely upset.

  Benji scrunched his lips like a prune. “Who’s going to help you off the ground? You’re too fat to get up yourself.”

  One side of Mary’s mouth curled upward. “I’ll try not to be offended.” She held out her hands to Benji and Alfie. Benji jumped to his feet, and the twins each took one of her arms to pull her up.

  Andrew nudged Benji and Alfie away. “Stop, stop. Someone’s going to get hurt.” He braced his feet and took Mary’s hands in his. They were surprisingly soft. That ribbon of warmth around his gut returned with a vengeance, and he found it nearly impossible to draw a breath. He yanked more than pulled Mary to her feet. Even as pregnant as she was, she hardly weighed a thing. Was she getting enough to eat? She had to think of the buplie as well as herself now.

  Andrew clamped his teeth together. No good would come of worrying about Mary’s baby. Mary was obviously someone who could take care of herself. Besides, she lived with Bitsy Weaver. Bitsy wouldn’t let her starve, and she would give away all her cats before she let any harm come to that baby.

  “Denki,
” Mary said, her expression guarded as she smoothed her hands down her apron and straightened her dress. “Now you go along. I promise not to follow you.”

  Andrew felt like a jerk, but if Mary was going to make it easy for him, he’d be a fool not to take the opportunity. “Cum, boys.”

  Alfie folded his arms across his chest. “We wait for Mary.”

  It was the right thing to do, and Andrew knew it. Was he more concerned about reinforcing gute manners for his bruderen or about how he looked to the gmayna? Unfortunately he had to pick one or the other. Why were his bruderen doing this to him? And why had they chosen Mary as their method of torture?

  Mary, Benji, and Alfie stared at him, unmoving like a trio of statues, and he felt more than a little perturbed. Alfie wasn’t going to budge, Benji looked as if he wouldn’t be persuaded, and Mary seemed curious but not particularly concerned either way. His mamm had taught him to watch out for those who were weaker than he, but she had also taught him to avoid sin and stay away from bad company. What would she want him to do?

  He knew that answer without even thinking about it. Always do unto others, Andrew, as you would want them to do to you. He’d never be pregnant and unmarried, but he was pretty sure what he should do anyway. “Come back with us, Mary. You don’t want to miss the lunch rush.”

  Alfie and Benji whooped like something amazing had just happened, and Andrew told them to hush, as they had already drawn the attention of every person in the tent.

  A smile grew on Mary’s lips like a sunrise, gradual and stunning. “I don’t think the honey tent has a lunch rush.”

  “Come to ours,” Benji said, as if he was inviting her to a party.

  They paraded out of the tent, Mary and Benji in the lead, Andrew and Alfie behind. It was all Andrew could do to hold his head high. He’d made his choice. He’d live with the consequences.

  A thick, chunky chest of drawers stood near the exit, and Andrew heard a thump as Mary’s foot knocked into it. She gasped and hurried from the tent. Hissing in pain, she limped around and around as if the quick movement made her foot feel better.

  “What happened?” Benji asked.

  Without stopping her little walk of pain, Mary took four or five deep breaths and winced with every step. “I stubbed my toe something wonderful.”

  Andrew would have to help. She was going to fall over and really injure herself. He cupped his hand around her elbow and led her to the nearest place to sit, which providentially happened to be on a long crate sitting just behind the furniture tent. No one would notice them there. He could be a Good Samaritan and help Mary, and no one in the gmayna would have to know.

  Benji and Alfie followed them as Andrew led Mary to the crate and helped her sit down. Alfie pointed to her foot. “Look, Mary, you’re bleeding,” he said, as if her injury was better than an ice cream cone. Little boys were like that. Blood was always a cause for excitement.

  Andrew knelt on the ground to get a better look. Her pinky toe stuck out from her foot at an awkward angle and it looked like the entire nail had been ripped clean off. It oozed with deep, red blood, and the skin around her toe had already started turning purple. “Oy, anyhow, Mary. I think you broke it.”

  Andrew frowned. She should have been wearing shoes. And a sweater. A woman with child should always bundle up and wear shoes.

  She took several deep breaths, propped her elbow on her knee, and cradled her head in her hand, taking a peek at her foot. “Ach, du lieva.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes, obviously concentrating on the pain. It must have been excruciating.

  Alfie and Benji both leaned in for a closer look. “That’s a lot of blood,” Benji said. “Does it hurt?”

  “Terrible,” Mary said breathlessly.

  Benji bit his bottom lip. “We should take you to the hospital.”

  “I can’t walk just yet, Benji, but I don’t think I’ll need a hospital.”

  “We should get Mamm,” Benji said.

  Mary still had her head buried in her hands. “It’s okay, Benji. Once the pain dies down, I’ll only need a Band-Aid.”

  “And some Motrin,” Andrew said. “It’s going to hurt something wonderful. And you’ll need to wrap it in some gauze. Alfie, go see if they have a first aid kit at the pretzel stand.”

  Alfie poked Benji in the ribs. “We’ll go find a first aid kit, but it might take us a very, very long time. You two will have to sit here and wait for us and talk.” Benji glanced at Alfie, and they burst into smiles as if it was the first day of summer vacation. They didn’t have to be so happy about it. A broken toe might be something to brag about to your friends, but Mary wouldn’t be smiling anytime soon.

  “Hurry as fast as you can. If they don’t have a first aid kit at the pretzel stand, ask someone else. Maybe Mamm brought hers.”

  The boys strolled away, apparently with nowhere important to go. What was wrong with them? They liked Mary. They should have been in a great hurry to help her out. “Alfie, Benji,” Andrew barked. “Hurry it up.”

  His brothers looked back, glanced at each other, and took off running. At least they still obeyed him when it was urgent.

  Andrew eyed Mary’s face. “Do you mind if I have a closer look?”

  She shook her head, still cradled in her hands. “Just don’t do any poking without warning me.”

  “I’m just going to see . . .” She winced as he took her foot in his hands. “Sorry.” Her foot was ice-cold, which was only to be expected on a cool day. The nail was halfway off. It would have to be ripped out the rest of the way if she didn’t want to risk catching it on things. “Do you want me to pop your toe back into place?”

  She didn’t lift her head. “It sounds so innocent.”

  “It will hurt worse than when you stubbed it.”

  She wryly curled one side of her mouth. “Why would I want you to do that?”

  “Vell, it’s quick and you wouldn’t have to go to a doctor.”

  “I’m not going to a doctor.”

  Andrew nodded. “Then you have two choices.”

  “Which are?”

  “Let me pop it into place or walk funny the rest of your life.”

  She looked up into the sky as if weighing her options. “Ach. I think I’m going to cry, it hurts so bad. It might be worth walking funny. I already waddle like a duck.”

  He pressed his lips together to stifle an unwanted smile. “I think that is a temporary condition of being with child.”

  She grunted. “I hope so.”

  He sat with her foot cupped in his hand and watched several emotions play on her face, the chief one being pain. He hated to see anyone in pain, even Mary Coblenz. He rubbed his other hand up and down the front of her ankle, hoping to soothe some of her discomfort.

  She tensed and sat up straight. “You seem very confident in your ability to fix my toe, Andrew Petersheim. How do I know I can trust you?”

  “When I was fourteen, I popped Abraham’s middle toe back into place. He’d been jumping from the haymow when Mamm had warned him not to. Then last year, Alfie dislocated his finger trying to open the window to sneak out of the house. You just pull real hard until you hear a pop. Works every time.”

  Mary grimaced. “Oy, anyhow. I think I’m going to be sick.”

  He sat next to her on the crate. “Do you need a drink?”

  “Of course I need a drink.” She buried her face in her hands once again and her next words were muffled. “A gute, stiff drink.” She lifted her head and gave him a pained smile. “I didn’t mean it. That foolishness is definitely in the past.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about. “I’ll find a water bottle.”

  She grabbed his wrist before he could leave. “Nae, don’t go. I think you should pop my toe back into place before it heals wrong.”

  “You want me to do it?”

  She took a deep breath. “Jah, but please don’t mess up. I’d rather not be a cripple.”

  “I don’t think y
ou’d be crippled. You probably wouldn’t miss your toe even if they had to amputate it. Mahlon Zook lost three of his toes in a threshing accident and—”

  She held up her hand. “Maybe you can tell me the story later. My head is already spinning.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  “I have a low pain threshold. At least that’s what Josh told me.”

  “What does that mean?” And who was Josh?

  “It means I don’t endure pain well.”

  Andrew shrugged. “You’re doing fine. I think my head would be spinning too.” He knelt down on the ground and lifted Mary’s foot.

  “Wait!” she yelled. “Tell me before you do it.”

  “Of course.”

  She made a face. “Don’t say of course, like you weren’t going to do it without warning me.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. Mary wasn’t afraid to say exactly what she thought, but she wasn’t rude about it. She was in pain, that was plain enough, but she was handling the situation with good humor, almost as if she was laughing at herself, even through her discomfort. Well, she wasn’t laughing at herself now, but Andrew could see that she was the type of person who would laugh about it later, and thank him profusely for the pain he was about to cause her.

  He crossed his legs and set Mary’s heel on his knee, examining it closely for the best way to grip it so that he could do the job quickly and with the least amount of discomfort to her. There was too much blood. “I can’t get a good grip on it. The blood makes it slippery.”

  She huffed out a breath and fished inside her apron pocket. “Will this do?” She pulled out a crinkled tissue and handed it to him.

  “That should do the trick.” He wrapped the tissue carefully, painstakingly around her toe. It soaked up the blood and lent enough friction to make his grip nice and secure.