Look Out, Lancaster County

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Jacob nodded and pointed to the stove, where the sausage sizzled. “You’d better tend to those, don’t you think?”

  “Jah, sure.” Rachel raced over to the stove, flipped the sausage links over with a fork, and turned to Jacob again. “Shouldn’t you go back outside and check on Mom? Or do you want to watch the sausage while I see if she’s okay?”

  Jacob grunted. “I’ll check on Mom. If I tried to cook, I’d probably end up burning the sausage.” He hurried out the door.

  “Sure hope Mom’s not sick.” Rachel sighed and scrambled the eggs her mother had broken into a bowl. Then she poured them into an empty frying pan near the stove.

  Mom returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, but her face looked pale. She walked across the room shakily.

  “Jacob says you have a stomachache, and you don’t look well, Mom,” Rachel said. “Maybe it would be a good idea if you went back to bed.”

  “No need for that.” Mom smiled and shook her head. “What’s ailing me is nothing to worry about, daughter. Sis mir iwwel. [I am sick at my stomach.]”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “You’re sick at the stomach?”

  “Jah. I felt like I could throw up while I was fixing breakfast, so I ran outside.” Mom pulled out a chair at the table and dropped into it. “I’m in the family way, that’s all.”

  Rachel gasped. She had heard others say “in the family way” and knew it meant that someone was going to have a baby. But she never expected her mother to be in the family way. “Mom, are—are you sure?”

  Mom nodded. “I’m quite sure. I’ve had four bopplin, so I think I know when I’m going to have another.”

  Rachel shook her head. “But—but Mom, at your age, I—I mean, I thought you were done having babies.”

  Mom crooked one eyebrow, and her glasses slipped to the end of her nose. “Are you saying I’m too old to have a boppli?”

  Rachel flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I don’t think you’re old. It’s just that … well, I’m ten years old. I’m too old to have a baby sister, don’t you think?”

  “Whether you’re too old or not, next summer, you’ll be a big sister.” Mom chuckled and patted her stomach. “And don’t get used to the idea that you might have a baby sister. It could be a boy, you know.”

  Rachel thought of their neighbor, Anna Miller, who had ten children. One was still a baby. Anna always looked tired and always had so much to do. If Mom had a baby to care for, she’d be tired and busy, too. She probably wouldn’t have time for Rachel anymore.

  “I’ve had the morning sickness for a few weeks, but today was the worst.” Mom reached for Rachel’s hand. “Can I count on you to be my big helper?”

  Rachel nodded. Maybe now, Mom and everyone else in the family would see her as a grown-up who should be allowed to do things she couldn’t do before.

  When Rachel arrived at school that morning, she noticed several boys having a snowball fight. With an enthusiastic yelp, Jacob joined them. Rachel went to find her cousin. She discovered Mary playing on the swings. She sat in the swing beside Mary and began to pump her legs to get the swing moving fast.

  “Were you surprised to see the snow this morning?” Mary asked, catching snowflakes on her tongue.

  “Jah, but I had an even bigger surprise than that.” Rachel grunted. “In fact, it was news I never expected—not in a million years.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “My mamm’s going to have a boppli sometime this summer.”

  Mary’s eyes grew wide. “Is that true, or are you teasing?”

  “Of course it’s true. Do you think I would make something up like that?”

  “I—I guess not.” Mary stopped swinging and faced Rachel. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “Jah,” Rachel said, as she slowed her swing. “It means a lot more work for me. That’s what it means.”

  “I suppose it will. But that’s not what I was going to say.”

  “What then?”

  “You’ll no longer be the boppli in your family.”

  Rachel nodded. “That’s right, I won’t. And when the baby comes, I hope Mom, Pap, and everyone else will stop treating me like I’m a little girl.”

  “You are still a girl,” Mary reminded. “But since the baby will be smaller, maybe your family will treat you like you’re more grown up in some ways.”

  “I hope that’s how it goes.” Rachel frowned. “I’m worried about Mom.”

  “How come?”

  “She’s been feeling sick to her stomach. This morning when she was fixing breakfast, she almost threw up.”

  Mary slowly shook her head. “Sorry to hear that. Feeling like you could throw up is baremlich [terrible].”

  “I know it’s terrible,” Rachel agreed. “I’ve never liked being sick. If having a baby means getting sick, it’s just one more reason why I’ll never get married.”

  Mary poked Rachel’s arm. “You say that, but I bet when you meet the right fellow, you’ll change your mind about getting married and becoming a mamm.”

  “Humph!” Rachel folded her arms. “All the boys I know like to tease and make my life miserable. It’s not likely I’ll ever marry any of them.”

  “As my mamm often says, ‘One never knows what the future holds.’”

  Rachel opened her mouth to reply, but splat! A snowball landed on her head.

  “All right, who’s the galgedieb [scoundrel] who did that?” she shouted. A trickle of melting snow dribbled down her nose and onto her chin.

  “There’s your scoundrel,” Mary said, pointing to Orlie Troyer. He stood a few feet away with a guilty look on his face. “He looks like a nixnutzich [naughty] child.”

  “He is a naughty child.” Rachel gritted her teeth. “I may have to be Orlie’s wife in our Christmas play, but I don’t have to put up with this!” She jumped off the swing, packed a handful of snow, and hurled it at him.

  The snowball landed on the ground. Orlie doubled over with laughter, which fueled Rachel’s anger. She grabbed more snow and started after Orlie. She figured if she got close enough her aim would be better. Swish! This time the snowball barely brushed Orlie’s jacket.

  Orlie snickered. “You missed me! You missed me! So now you gotta kiss me!”

  “That’s what you think, Orlie Troyer! I’ll never kiss you or any other boy!” Rachel started for the schoolhouse. She’d only taken a few steps, when she slipped and fell flat on her face in the snow. She bit her lip to keep from crying.

  Laughing, Orlie ambled across the schoolyard and reached for her hand. “Here, let me help you up, little bensel.”

  Ignoring his offer, Rachel scrambled to her feet and brushed the snow off her clothes. She trudged up the schoolhouse stairs, mumbling, “I am not a silly child. I wish I’d never met Orlie Troyer!”

  Chapter 12

  A Little Secret

  Stop rutschich [squirming],” Mom said. She turned in her seat at the front of the buggy and shook her finger at Rachel. “You’re moving around so much that the whole carriage is shaking.”

  “I feel naerfich.” Rachel stuck a fingernail between her teeth and bit off the end. She wished she could have run to the schoolhouse. But no, Pap insisted she ride in the buggy with the family. Now she would be a nervous wreck all through the program because she hadn’t gotten her endorphins working.

  Jacob nudged her in the ribs with his bony elbow. “You worry too much, you know that, little bensel?”

  “I do not,” she said, elbowing him back. “And stop calling me a silly child!”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about,” Pap said from the driver’s seat. “You’ve been in plenty of Christmas programs, and have always done just fine.”

  “This one’s different,” Rachel wailed. “I’m playing Jesus’ mother.”

  “Playing the role of Mary and saying a few lines shouldn’t be much different than reciting a poem or singing.” Henry reached over from the se
at behind Rachel where he sat with Grandpa Schrock. He patted Rachel’s shoulder.

  Grandpa quickly added, “They’re right, Rachel. You’ll do fine today. You’ll see.”

  Rachel didn’t reply. She just folded her arms and stared out the window at the falling snow. Her family didn’t understand the real reason for her fears. She knew she’d sit by Orlie the whole time, smelling his garlic breath. She knew he’d be waiting for her to mess up. He’d probably laugh louder than anyone else when she forgot her lines.

  Rachel glanced at the small gift on the seat beside her. Last week Lovina had asked the children to draw names for a gift exchange that would take place right after the Christmas program. Rachel had been disappointed to have drawn Orlie’s name. She’d decided she would buy him a box of peppermints to freshen his breath. It was too bad he couldn’t open it and suck on a couple of mints before the program started.

  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, as a tremor of nervousness shot through her stomach. Dear God, she prayed, if You’ll help me get through this program without making a fool of myself, I promise to keep my room clean and do whatever my parents ask.

  When they entered the schoolhouse, Mom commented on the lacy cut-out stars the scholars had put on the windows. Grandpa mentioned the detailed winter scene a couple of the older children had drawn on the blackboard with colored chalk.

  Rachel nodded. “We’ve worked on the decorations for several weeks.”

  “Everything looks nice,” Pap said. “I’m sure this will be one of the best programs yet.”

  Rachel wasn’t so sure about that. She didn’t see how her part of the program could be any good.

  Other families began to arrive, and soon there was a huge pile of coats, hats, shawls, and outer black bonnets lying on the enclosed front porch floor of the schoolhouse. Inside, adults and children doubled up in the seats. The children who had parts in the program scurried behind the curtain at the front of the room.

  Rachel’s palms turned sweaty, and her knees began to knock as she listened to children recite their poems and perform short skits. When it was time for the Christmas story to be read from the Bible, Rachel, Orlie, the angels, and the shepherds took their places in front of the curtain.

  Rachel sat on a stool near the wooden manger with a faceless doll inside. Orlie took his place beside her, staring at the doll. The angels stood to one side with their arms outstretched. Jacob and the other shepherds knelt in front of the manger. Lovina had said no when Jacob had offered to bring one of Grandpa Yoder’s lambs to the program.

  Dorothy Kauffman, an eighth-grade girl, read the Christmas story from Luke 2, while Mary, Joseph, the angels, and shepherds remained in place. That was easy. Rachel was good at sitting.

  When the scripture had been read, the Bible characters came to action. Phoebe and Mary stepped forward and recited a poem: “We are two little angels who have a story to tell—it’s about baby Jesus, whom we know so well. Jesus, God’s Son, came to Earth as a little child; He was born in a stable so meek and mild.”

  The girls stepped back in place. Next the shepherds spoke their lines. “Baby Jesus, so tiny and dear, placed in a manger with animals near,” they said in voices loud and clear. “Baby Jesus, the Son of God, was visited by shepherds with staff and rod.”

  Earlier, Rachel had spotted Pap, Grandpa, Henry, Rudy, and Grandpa Yoder near the back of the room. Mom, Esther, and Grandma Yoder sat in chairs behind some of the desks. Rachel noticed the smiles on their faces. They were pleased that Jacob had done so well.

  Next, wearing a big grin, Orlie spoke his lines: “Jesus had a manger bed, with only some straw under His head. Jesus didn’t cry or fuss one bit; though a bed made of straw just wasn’t fit. Jesus, our Savior, came to Earth; He was born in a stable, such a lowly birth.”

  Orlie had said his lines perfectly. Rachel noticed that his mother, father, little sisters, and older brothers had smiles on their faces.

  Now it was Rachel’s turn. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t seem to find her voice.

  Orlie nudged her arm once, then twice.

  Rachel pushed his hand aside and swallowed hard. Still, nothing came from her lips.

  “Rachel, what’s the matter? You’re supposed to say your lines,” Orlie whispered, bending near her ear.

  Rachel nodded, licked her dry lips, and tried again. “Mary—uh—Mary thanked God with a—” She paused and glanced at the audience. Everyone looked at Rachel with eager expressions, which only made her feel more nervous.

  She cleared her throat. Oh, how she wanted to bite off a fingernail, but it wouldn’t look right for Jesus’ mother to do something like that. So to keep her hands still, Rachel sat on them.

  “Go on, Rachel,” Orlie prompted quietly. “Say the rest of your lines.”

  Rachel began again. “Mary—uh—thanked God with a prayer of pays … I—I mean, a prayer of plays.” Several people snickered. Rachel wished there were hole in the floor so she could crawl into it. Instead, she sat up straight, looked right into the audience and said, “I meant to say, Mary thanked God with a prayer of praise.”

  Mom smiled at Rachel, and Pap nodded. Feeling a little more confident, Rachel opened her mouth to say the rest of her lines. Suddenly her mind went blank. What came next? She tried to think, but jumbled thoughts whirled around in her brain like the clothes in Mom’s wringer washing machine.

  Teacher Lovina, who stood at the side of the room, raised her eyebrows and stared at Rachel. Thump. Thump. Thump. She tapped her foot.

  She probably thinks I’m a real dummkopp, Rachel thought. And right now, I feel like a dunce. The other scholars had done well; she didn’t understand why she couldn’t do the same.

  “Everyone’s waiting for you to say the rest of your lines,” Orlie whispered.

  “I know,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Then say them.”

  “Uh—Mary was blessed in—in so many ways,” Rachel began. She paused again, trying to think of what came next, but her mind seemed to be completely empty. She squeezed her fingers into the palms of her sweaty hands. Think, Rachel, think. What comes next?

  Mom leaned slightly forward with a worried expression. The rest of Rachel’s family shook their heads as if they couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her lines.

  Suddenly, Orlie bent and placed his hand on the faceless doll’s head. “Mary loved God and praised Him from her whole heart,” he said with a quick nod. “She was thankful for Jesus right from the start.”

  Orlie straightened and gave Rachel’s shoulder a squeeze. She exhaled a sigh of relief. She could hardly believe he had come to her rescue. Orlie had said the rest of her lines as if he was supposed to have said them.

  That was something a good friend would have done, not an enemy. Maybe Orlie wasn’t Rachel’s enemy after all. Maybe he even liked her just a bit.

  Rachel felt guilty for all the things she’d thought and said about him. Now she wished she had bought something better than a box of mints to give Orlie for his Christmas present.

  Lovina stepped forward and led the scholars and their parents in several Christmas songs. Then it was time for refreshments and opening gifts.

  Rachel waited near Mary while their substitute teacher called off names and handed out the presents. She wished she could find a way to snatch the package that held the box of mints and hide it from Orlie. But that would mean he wouldn’t have a gift, which wouldn’t seem right, either.

  “Rachel Yoder, here’s your gift,” Lovina announced.

  Rachel stepped forward and took the package. She placed it on her desk, tore off the paper, and opened the box. Inside were two glass jars—one filled with peanut butter and the other filled with strawberry jam. She picked up the card inside and read it out loud.

  “So you never have to eat tuna sandwiches again.

  Your friend always, Orlie Troyer.”

  Tears stung Rachel’s eyes. She blinked a couple of times to keep them from spilling onto her cheeks.
Orlie thought of her as his friend. He proved that by helping Rachel when she forgot her lines.

  “Orlie Troyer, this one’s for you,” Lovina said, extending Rachel’s gift to Orlie.

  Rachel wished she had prayed about her situation with Orlie, as Grandpa had suggested. But she had been too busy thinking up ways to get even. Now she wished she could hide. Orlie was already opening the gift. She held her breath as he lifted the box of mints and read the card she’d included. Then he walked up to Rachel and gave her a big grin. “Danki, Rachel. Maybe these mints will take the horrible taste out of my mouth when my mamm gives me garlic for breakfast.”

  Rachel giggled and lifted the jars of peanut butter and jelly. “I like what you gave me, too.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Rachel shuffled her feet and fought the urge to bite off a nail. This time she was nervous for a different reason. “I—I was wondering …”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why have you been so mean to me since you moved here? Especially since your card says you’re my friend.”

  He looked stunned. “You think I’ve been mean?”

  Rachel nodded. “You’ve teased and made fun of me. That’s being mean, wouldn’t you say?”

  Orlie’s cheeks turned red as a cherry. “I—I was just trying to get your attention.”

  “Why?”

  The color in his cheeks deepened. “Because I—I like you, Rachel.”

  Rachel was shocked. She bit her lower lip as she looked away. Boys sure had a funny way of showing they liked a girl.

  “Sorry if I made you mad,” he whispered.

  Rachel touched his arm. “I’m sorry for being mean to you, too.”

  She pulled her hand quickly away, realizing she’d just touched a boy. “Say, Orlie, I was wondering …”

  “What’s that?”

  “When’s your birthday?”