Look Out, Lancaster County

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  When Pap cleared his throat, it signaled the end of prayer time. “Now let’s eat until we’re full!”

  Mom passed the container of chicken to Rachel, and she reached for a drumstick. She added a spoonful of salad to her plate, two pickled beets, and a muffin. “Yum. Everything looks mighty gut.” She was about to take a bite of the chicken, when Jacob smacked it right out of her hands. “Hey! That’s mine!” she hollered.

  “You want to eat that after a stinkbug’s been on it?” he said, studying the leg.

  “What?” Rachel eyed the chicken leg. Jacob was right. There was a fat old stinkbug on her piece of chicken.

  Jacob smashed the bug with his thumb and handed it back to her. “Here you go.”

  A terrible odor drifted up to Rachel’s nose. “Eww … that stinks! Why’d you do that, Jacob?”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “Didn’t figure you’d want to eat a stinkbug.”

  She put the chicken leg on the edge of her plate and pushed it away. “I’m not eating that stinky thing now.”

  Jacob snickered. “Jah, I’ll bet that could make you real sick. You might even die from eating chicken that had a smelly bug like that on it.”

  “I’m not hungry now.” Rachel folded her arms and frowned.

  “Just take another piece of chicken and finish eating your meal,” Mom said as she stared at Rachel over the top of her silver-framed glasses.

  Pap looked over at Jacob and frowned. “You shouldn’t be teasing your sister.”

  “Sorry,” Jacob mumbled with his mouth full of muffin.

  Rachel took another drumstick, and her stomach flip-flopped. What if she’d eaten that piece of chicken with the stinkbug on it? Could she have gotten sick? Her appetite was gone, but she knew if she didn’t eat all her supper, she wouldn’t get any dessert. She probably couldn’t play after the meal, either. She bit into the fresh piece of chicken, trying not to think about the smelly stinkbug.

  “I’m glad school’s out,” Jacob said. “I think we should have a picnic every night to celebrate.”

  Mom smiled. “We’ll try to have several picnics this summer, but remember there’s plenty of work to do. We women have a big garden to care for, and you’ll help your daed [dad] and bruder [brother] in the fields.”

  “Right now I don’t want to think about working.” Jacob swiped a napkin across his face and jumped up. “I’m going to play in the pond.”

  “Don’t get your clothes wet or muddy. I don’t need dirty laundry to do when we get home,” Mom said as Jacob sprinted off in his bare feet.

  “Immer druwwle eiyets. [Always trouble somewhere.]” Pap looked over at Mom and grinned.

  “That’s true, Levi,” she responded. “There’s always trouble somewhere. Especially when our two youngest children get so excited about summer that they start picking on each other.”

  Rachel didn’t like the sound of that. She wasn’t trouble—just curious, as her teacher would say.

  She finished her dessert and scrambled to her feet. “I think I’ll go wading, too.”

  Mom caught hold of Rachel’s hand. “I hoped you and Esther would pick wild strawberries. Plenty are growing nearby, and they’d taste wunderbaar gut for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Do I have to pick berries?” Rachel whined. “I want to play in the water.”

  “Do as your mamm [mom] asks.” Pap’s eyebrows furrowed, and Rachel knew he meant what he said.

  Esther stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her long blue dress. She looked at Rachel and smiled. “I can pick the berries on my own.”

  While Rachel waited for her mother’s reply, an irritating bee buzzed overhead.

  “I guess it would be okay,” Mom finally agreed.

  Rachel swatted at the bee. Big mistake. A few seconds later, a burning pain shot from her finger all the way up her arm.

  “Ach!” she cried, jumping up and down from the shock of the bee’s sting. She shook her finger and waved her arm.

  “Calm down,” Pap instructed as he took a look at her hand. “Scoot over to the pond, take a little dirt and water, then pat the mud on the stinger. That should help draw it out.”

  Rachel dashed to the pond. She had wanted to go there, but not with a cruel bee stinger making her whole arm throb.

  Near the water’s edge, she found Jacob building a dam from mud, rocks, and twigs. His dark trousers, held up by tan suspenders, were rolled up to his knees.

  He gets to have all the fun! Rachel thought. It’s not fair.

  She scooped some dirt into her hand and added several drops of water. When a muddy paste formed, she spread it on her sore finger. Soon the throbbing lessened, so Rachel decided to see if she could make a better dam than Jacob’s.

  She waded into the cool water and giggled as it splashed against her legs. The bottom was mushy and squished between her bare toes.

  “You’d better watch out,” Jacob warned. “Your dress is getting wet.”

  Rachel glanced down. Sure enough, the hem was dark from where the water had soaked through. “I wish I didn’t have to wear long dresses all the time,” she grumbled. “You’re lucky to be a boy.”

  Jacob frowned as if Rachel had said something terrible. “You complain too much. Can’t you be happy with the way things are?”

  Rachel stuck her finger between her teeth and bit off the end of the nail, spitting it into the water. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m supposed to be Amish.”

  Her brother’s eyebrows lifted. “You were born Amish.”

  “I know, but sometimes I feel—” Rachel stared into space. Way down inside, where she hid her deepest secrets, she wondered what it would be like if she could do some of the things the non-Amish children her people called “English” got to do. “Sometimes I wish I could wear pants and shirts like the English girls do,” she said.

  “Sisters! Who can figure ‘em out?” Jacob pointed at Rachel. “Especially you, little bensel [silly child].”

  “I am not a silly child. If anyone’s silly, it’s you.” Rachel flicked some water in Jacob’s direction, and the drops landed on his shirtsleeve, making little dark circles.

  Her brother only chuckled as he kept building his mud dam.

  Rachel plodded toward the shore and gathered a few more twigs. She would make her dam even bigger than Jacob’s, and then he would see that she wasn’t a bensel. “Now, what did I do with that twig I was going to use?” she muttered.

  “It’s in your hand, little bensel.”

  Rachel’s face flushed. She was about to say something, when Mom called, “Rachel! Jacob! Come dry your feet. It’s time to go.”

  Jacob cupped his hands around his mouth. “Coming!” he shouted.

  When her brother hurried away, Rachel bent down, placed the twig and another clump of mud on the side of her dam, and stepped back to admire her work. Suddenly, her foot slipped on a slimy rock, and she stumbled. She swayed back and forth for a moment, then splash! Rachel landed facedown in the water.

  She was still sputtering and trying to stand in the slippery mud when Pap reached her. He scooped her into his strong arms, and Rachel leaned against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to fall in the water,” she sobbed.

  “You should have come when your mamm called,” Pap said harshly, as he tromped up the grassy bank and placed Rachel on the ground near the horse and buggy.

  She stood dripping wet, with her teeth chattering. Her kapp had come off and hung around her neck by its narrow ties, and most of her hair had come loose from the bun at the back of her head. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Jacob pointed at Rachel and howled. “Your hair’s stickin’ out in all directions. You look like a prickly blond porcupine.”

  “Do not!” Rachel snapped. She knew she might look silly, but she didn’t look like a prickly porcupine.

  Mom wrapped the picnic quilt around Rachel’s shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Rachel sniffed and swiped at the water dripping from her soggy hair onto her chee
ks. She wiped her muddy face, arms, and legs on the quilt.

  “Sorry is good, but if you’d come when you were called, you probably wouldn’t have fallen into the water,” Mom said crossly, looking at the muddy prints Rachel had left on the quilt. “When we get home, you’ll have laundry to do.”

  Rachel frowned. She hadn’t meant to get her clothes wet. Why should she have to wash them? After all, the quilt was an old one; that’s why they’d taken it on the picnic.

  “We’d better head for home,” Pap said. He helped the women into the buggy, and Jacob scrambled in after them.

  The ride home was not pleasant. Rachel’s wet dress stuck to her skin like tape. Shifting on the hard seat, she felt a shiver tickle her spine, and she pulled the quilt tightly around her shoulders.

  Jumbled thoughts skittered through Rachel’s mind. Jacob thought she was silly, and she knew she’d caused trouble for her parents. She wondered if every day of summer would be as topsy-turvy as this picnic day. She decided she’d better steer clear of trouble!

  Chapter 2

  Afraid of the Dark

  The sun was just beginning to show when Rachel came downstairs for breakfast the next morning. She knew her mother would be up early, getting ready to go to the Millers’ house. Mom planned to help Anna Miller do some cleaning in preparation to host the biweekly Sunday worship service at the Millers’ house in two days. Since Rachel was eager to call on their neighbors, she found it easier to get out of bed so early.

  Rachel took an apple-crumb pie out of the refrigerator and placed it on the table. It was one of her favorite breakfast pies, and her stomach growled as she thought of how good it would taste.

  “When breakfast is over, we’ll need to hurry through our chores,” Mom said. “Esther’s already milking the cows. Henry and Pap are hitching the horse to our buggy, and I sent Jacob to the henhouse to gather eggs.”

  Rachel snickered. “Jacob always says that gathering eggs is women’s work. He must be really gretzich [crabby] this morning.”

  “I don’t care if Jacob is crabby. If he thinks only women can gather eggs, he’s sorely mistaken. That kind of thinking is just plain foolish.” Mom reached for the kettle of oatmeal sitting near the back of the stove. She pushed a wisp of pale blond hair away from her face, where it had worked its way out from under the kapp covering her bun.

  Rachel had just finished setting the table when the rest of the family came into the kitchen. Everyone gathered around the table and bowed their heads for silent prayer. Rachel prayed that she would be allowed to have two pieces of apple-crumb pie and also that she’d have lots of fun at the Millers’.

  By nine o’clock, breakfast was over, the kitchen had been cleaned, and Mom and Rachel had finished the rest of their chores. Satisfied and full after eating a bowl of oatmeal and two pieces of pie, Rachel followed Mom outside and climbed into their buggy. She felt certain that today would turn out better than yesterday.

  “Are you sure you won’t come with us to the Millers’?” Mom asked Esther, who stood in front of the buggy, stroking the horse’s ear.

  Esther shook her head and smiled sweetly. “Rudy is picking me up soon. We’re going to the Hertzlers’ place to look at some horses. He’s thinking about buying a new one.”

  Mom nodded and handed Rachel her kapp. “I found this hanging on the wall peg in the kitchen. Were you planning to go without it, or were you daydreaming again?”

  With a sigh, Rachel put the head covering in place. “Sorry, Mom. I forgot.”

  “You’ve been so forgetful lately,” Mom said. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” After all, school was out now, and she had lots of plans for her summer.

  Mom gave Rachel a curious look but made no reply. She turned to wave at Esther and started the horse trotting down the lane leading to the main road.

  “Sure was a nice picnic supper we had yesterday, jah?” Mom said as they rode along.

  “Except for when I almost ate a stinkbug, got stung by a bee, and fell in the pond,” Rachel mumbled.

  Mom reached over to touch Rachel’s hand. “The stinkbug wasn’t such a big thing. The bee sting was an accident. And if you had come out of the water when you were called, you might not have fallen in.”

  “I was just trying to have a little fun.”

  “I know, but you must learn to listen. That will help you stay out of trouble.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ve been wondering …,” she said, changing the subject.

  “What’s that?”

  “Yesterday on the way to the pond, I heard Pap say something about Tom neighing too much.”

  “That horse seems to complain about everything these days,” Mom said with a click of her tongue.

  Rachel’s forehead wrinkled with concern. Tom was getting old and couldn’t do everything he used to do. Maybe he had a right to complain.

  They soon turned onto a gravel driveway. Howard and Anna Miller’s three-story house was even larger than the Yoders’ home. The Miller family included six boys and four girls—so they needed lots of room. Two of the girls were already married and lived with their husbands on their own farms, but the rest of the Miller children still lived at home.

  As soon as Rachel climbed down from the buggy, she spotted Anna Miller chopping weeds in the garden. Her plump figure was bent over a row of strawberry plants. Beside her stood six-year-old Katie. Nearby sat little Sarah’s baby carriage. When Anna saw Rachel and her mother, she waved and set her garden hoe aside.

  Mom and Anna greeted each other in the Pennsylvania Dutch language, while Rachel squatted next to the carriage so she could see the baby better. “Sarah sure is a pretty boppli,” she said.

  “Jah, we think she’s a pretty baby, too,” Anna replied with a smile.

  For the next several minutes, Anna, Mom, Rachel, and Katie admired the infant and made silly baby sounds.

  “I expect we should get busy with the cleaning and baking,” Mom finally said.

  Anna nodded. “I appreciate you coming to help today, Miriam. Since the boppli came, I seem to be getting further behind on all my chores.”

  While Mom helped Anna clean house, Rachel looked after Katie and baby Sarah. She liked being in charge of the little ones. It made her feel important. Besides, Mom had promised Rachel some free time after lunch, and she looked forward to exploring the Millers’ yard.

  “Let’s go look for the busslin [kittens] that my cat, Missy, had,” Katie suggested.

  She pointed to a little hole under the front porch. “They could be in there.”

  Rachel parked the baby carriage under the shade of a maple tree. Then she and Katie knelt and peered into the opening.

  “I don’t see any kittens,” Rachel said as she stuck her hand inside the hole and felt all around. When she pulled her hand out again, she discovered a grasshopper perched on the end of her thumb.

  Katie squealed and jumped away. “Eww! I don’t like bugs!”

  Rachel set the grasshopper in the flower bed. “I think bugs are okay as long as they’re not on my food.”

  “Let’s go see if the kittens are in the barn,” Katie said, tugging Rachel’s hand.

  Rachel pushed the baby carriage down the dirt path. When she and Katie entered the barn, she parked the carriage near some bales of hay stacked by the door. Then Katie looked for the kittens inside an empty horse stall while Rachel climbed the hayloft to hunt for them there.

  “Ahhhh!”

  Rachel’s heart lurched as she heard the shrill scream. She scrambled down the ladder. Katie stood on a bale of hay, trembling from head to toe. “What’s wrong, Katie? Why are you standing up there?”

  Katie pointed across the room. “Maus [Mouse]. I saw a maus.”

  Rachel could hardly believe anyone would be afraid of a little old mouse. She thought mice were cute. And mice didn’t chase you around, nipping at your legs, the way their old goose sometimes did.

  “The maus won
’t hurt you,” she said, holding her hand out to Katie. “Come on, let’s go outside and swing.”

  Katie nodded, and pushing the baby carriage, the two girls headed behind the barn. Rachel loved to swing—and it was hard for her to take turns. But while Katie swung, Rachel pushed Sarah in her carriage so she wouldn’t fuss. Then when it was Rachel’s turn to swing, Katie pushed her sister’s carriage around in the grass.

  At noon, the dinner bell rang. Rachel and Katie rushed into the house, where everyone took turns washing up at the sink. Finally each person was seated at the huge wooden table in the center of the Millers’ kitchen. Howard Miller and his six sons ate quickly so they could get back to the fields to work more, but Rachel took her time eating. She enjoyed every bite of the tasty cold meats and cheeses, homemade bread, potato salad, canned applesauce, and chewy peanut butter cookies Anna had served for lunch. Anna and Mom had already begun to clear away the dishes when Rachel swallowed her last bite.

  “I’m going to put my kinner [children] down for a nap so we can finish our cleaning without any interruptions,” Anna said to Mom as she scooted Katie toward the stairs. “If there’s time, maybe we can do some baking this afternoon.”

  Rachel was glad she didn’t have to take a nap like the younger children. She helped her mother wash the dishes. When they had been dried and put away, she asked if she could go outside to play.

  “Jah, but don’t get into any trouble,” Mom said, peering at Rachel over the top of her glasses.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  As soon as Rachel opened the back door and stepped onto the porch, she noticed that the sky was filled with heavy, gray clouds. The air smelled like rain, and she drew in a deep breath. She slipped off her shoes, hopped down the porch steps, and skipped across the lawn.

  Her first stop was Anna’s flower garden. Rachel loved flowers, and she fought the urge to pick a few of the prettiest ones, since she hadn’t asked for permission. Besides, too many bees landed on the flowers, and Rachel didn’t want to get stung again.