Look Out, Lancaster County

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “February twenty-fifth. Why do you ask?”

  “I might give you one of my painted rocks as a present. Or maybe I’ll make a hurry-up cake for your birthday.” She giggled. “I have two months to practice, so maybe it won’t turn out so bad.”

  He thumped her on the arm. “Does that mean we’re friends?”

  “Jah,” Rachel said with a nod. Then she whispered, “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “No, of course not. It’ll be our little secret.”

  Recipe for Rachel’s Hurry-Up Cake

  1½ cups cake flour (do not substitute)

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  1 cup sugar

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  2 eggs

  ¼ cup butter, softened

  1 cup milk

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees. In a mixing bowl, mix cake flour with baking powder, sugar, and salt. In separate bowl, mix eggs and softened butter. Add dry ingredients and milk alternately to egg and butter mixture. Add vanilla and beat hard for 3 minutes. Pour into 2 greased and floured 8-inch layer cake pans and bake for 5 minutes. Raise oven heat to 350 degrees and bake for another 30 minutes. Cool, remove from pans, then frost with strawberry icing.

  Strawberry Icing:

  4 tablespoons (or more) strawberries, mashed

  3 cups confectioners (powdered) sugar

  ⅓ cup butter, softened

  Blend butter and powdered sugar together in bowl. Stir in mashed strawberries, adding enough to make a creamy frosting. Spread on cooled cake.

  Out of Control

  Dedication

  To the students and teachers at the Honeybrook School in Topeka, Indiana. Thanks for letting me visit with you!

  Glossary

  ach—oh

  aldi—girlfriend

  appeditlich—delicious

  baremlich—terrible

  bauchweh—stomachache

  bensel—silly child

  blappermaul—blabbermouth

  bletsching—spanking

  boppli—baby

  bruder—brother

  buwe—boy

  daed—dad

  danki—thank you

  dappich—clumsy

  dumm—dumb

  ekelhaft—disgusting

  grank—sick

  guder mariye—good morning

  gut—good

  hund—dog

  jah—yes

  kapp—cap

  kinner—children

  koppweh—headache

  kumme—come

  maedel—girl

  mamm—mom

  maus—mouse

  melassich—molasses

  mupsich—stupid

  retschbeddi—tattletale

  schmaert—smart

  schnee—snow

  schneeballe—snowball

  schnell—quickly

  schweschder—sister

  ungeduldich—impatient

  verhuddelt—mixed up

  wasserpareble—chicken pox

  wunderbaar—wonderful

  Halt ei, sell geht zu weit!—Stop, that’s going too far!

  Sis nau futsch!—It’s all ruined now!

  Dummel dich net!—Take your time, don’t hurry!

  Gern gschehne.—You are welcome.

  Chapter 1

  Sledding Troubles

  Woosh … Woosh … The wind whistled under the eaves of the house, rattling Rachel Yoder’s bedroom window.

  Thump-thumpety-thump! Rachel’s heart pounded inside her chest. She shivered and pulled the quilt under her chin. She had thought she was getting less afraid of storms. But it was hard to be brave in a dark room with the wind making strange noises. What if the windows broke? What if the tree outside her bedroom window toppled and crashed onto the house?

  Rachel closed her eyes and prayed, “Dear God, protect this house and all of us in it. Help me not be afraid.”

  Rachel drew in a deep breath. She felt a bit calmer, and her heart wasn’t beating so fast. Maybe now she could sleep.

  Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

  Rachel’s heart raced again. She tipped her head toward the window and listened. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Was someone knocking on the glass? Had they climbed the tree outside her window? Were they trying to enter her room?

  My imagination is just playing tricks on me. The wind is just blowing a tree branch against the window.

  Screech… Screech… The new sound reminded Rachel of fingernails on a blackboard.

  There’s no reason to be afraid, she told herself. God is watching over me.

  Rachel pushed the quilt aside, turned on the flashlight she kept by her bed, and plodded across the chilly wood floor. She lifted the dark green window shade and pressed her forehead against the cold glass.

  Screech… Screech. Tap-tap…tap-tap.

  Rachel gasped when she saw a small pink paw flopped against the window.

  “Cuddles!”

  She quickly opened the window, and a gust of cold wind swept into the room. “You silly kitten! What are you doing in that tree on such a cold, snowy night?”

  Cuddles’s pathetic meow was drowned out by the wooshing wind.

  Snowflakes swirled into the room. Rachel picked up the cat and shut the window. “Poor Cuddles,” she whispered against the cat’s frosty head. “Did you get locked out of the barn?”

  Cuddles meowed again and licked Rachel’s chin with her sandpaper tongue.

  Rachel giggled. “You’re sure getting heavy, Cuddles. Before long you’ll be a full-grown cat.”

  Meow!

  “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

  Meow! Meow! Cuddles pushed her paws against Rachel’s chest and purred.

  “You’re getting me all wet!” Rachel felt the cold dampness through her nightgown and shivered. She plucked a small blanket from the doll cradle Pap had made her last Christmas. Then she wrapped Cuddles in the blanket and placed her at the foot of the bed.

  Rachel was about to crawl back in bed, when Cuddles wriggled free from the blanket, leaped into the air, and landed on Rachel’s pillow. The cat purred as she kneaded the pillow, first with one paw and then the other.

  “Stop that!” Rachel scolded. “You’re getting my pillow wet!” She picked up the cat, wrapped her in the doll blanket again, and placed her back on the end of the bed. “Now go to sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rachel crawled into bed and pulled the quilt under her chin. The howling wind didn’t bother her nearly so much now that Cuddles was near. She closed her eyes and was almost asleep when she heard screech … screech …

  Her eyes popped open and she sat straight up.

  Cuddles was scratching a bedpost.

  “Don’t do that! You’ll mark up my bed.” Rachel pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. She wrapped Cuddles in the doll blanket and placed her at the end of the bed. “Now go to sleep.”

  Rachel was about to climb into bed again, when Cuddles sprang off the bed, slid across the floor, and bit into the shoelaces from one of Rachel’s shoes. She flipped her head from side to side. Bump … bump … bump … the shoe thudded against the hardwood floor.

  “Shh … If you’re not careful, you’ll wake Mom and Pap.” Rachel grabbed the shoe and put it in her closet. Then she picked up Cuddles and put her on the bed. “If you make me get up again, I’ll put you back outside.”

  Meow! Cuddles tipped her head and looked at Rachel as if to say, “I’ll be good. Please, don’t put me in the cold.”

  “All right then.” Sighing, Rachel got into bed, pulled the quilt up to her chin, and closed her eyes. She listened for several minutes, but all was quiet. Cuddles must have finally gone to sleep.

  When Rachel woke up the next morning, she rushed to the window and lifted the shade. The wind had stopped howling and the snow had quit falling. A perfect day for sledding!

  Rachel thought about her new friend, Orlie. He’d told her that he thought the new sled he’d gotten for Ch
ristmas was the fastest around.

  “We’ll see about that,” Rachel murmured as she slipped her nightgown over her head. “I’ll bet my trusty old sled will go faster than Orlie’s shiny new one. He just likes to brag.”

  She opened her closet door and took out a long-sleeved dress. “I’d better dress warmly today if I’m going to race my sled during recess.”

  After dressing, Rachel hurried downstairs to the kitchen. Mom was in front of their gas-operated stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. The spicy aroma of cinnamon tickled Rachel’s nose and made her stomach rumble.

  “Guder mariye [good morning], Rachel,” Mom said with a cheery smile.

  “Good morning, Mom.”

  “Did you sleep well last night?”

  “The wind kept me awake at first, and then after I brought—” Rachel clamped her hand over her mouth. She had almost blurted out that she’d let Cuddles into her room.

  “What’s the matter?” Mom asked, squinting her blue eyes. “Why are you covering your mouth?”

  Rachel dropped her hand. “Nothing’s wrong. I slept okay. How about you, Mom?”

  “Except for your daed’s [dad’s] snoring, I slept fairly well, too.” Mom touched her stomach and smiled. “I guess I should get used to not sleeping so much. When the boppli [baby] is born in July, I’ll be up several times during the night to feed the little one.”

  Rachel grimaced. She wasn’t sure she wanted a new baby in the house. What if Mom and Pap loved the baby more than they loved her? What if she had to do more chores after the baby came?

  “Would you please set the table?” Mom asked, touching Rachel’s arm.

  “Jah [yes], okay.” Rachel reached into the cupboard to get the glasses, but her elbow bumped the box of brown sugar on the cupboard. The box tumbled to the floor, and—splat!—brown sugar spilled everywhere.

  “Always trouble somewhere,” Rachel muttered. “I’ll clean it up right away, Mom.” She hurried to the cleaning closet for the broom and dustpan.

  Swish! Swish! She swept sugar into the dustpan. Swish! Swish! Just a few more sweeps and it would be done.

  Rachel bent over to pick up the dustpan, when—woosh!—a gray-and-white ball of fur streaked into the room. The dustpan flew out of Rachel’s hand, and brown sugar flew everywhere. Some even landed on Cuddles’s head.

  “Oh no,” Rachel said with a groan.

  “What’s that cat doing in the house?” Mom rubbed the spot on her nose where her metal-framed glasses should have been. Instead, they had slipped to the end of her nose. “I wonder if one of the men left the back door open when they went to do their chores,” she said, pushing her glasses back in place.

  Rachel frowned. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Cuddles on her bed this morning. The silly kitten must have hidden so she wouldn’t be put out in the cold.

  Rachel knew Mom didn’t like Cuddles to be in her room—especially not on the bed. She wondered what she could tell Mom that wouldn’t be a lie. Should she admit that she’d let Cuddles into her room last night, or should she let Mom think the cat had entered through an open door this morning? Maybe it would be best if she just kept quiet.

  “However the cat got in,” Mom said, “she’s caused a mess. The troublesome creature needs to go back outside, schnell [quickly].”

  “I’ll put her out.” Rachel scooped Cuddles into her arms, opened the back door, and set the cat on the porch. “You’d better go out to the barn now.” She shook her finger. “And if you don’t stop getting into trouble, Mom might not let you in the house anymore.”

  “Why didn’t you bring your sled this morning?” Rachel asked her brother Jacob as she trudged through the snow, pulling her sled toward the schoolhouse.

  “Don’t feel like sledding.” Jacob kicked at a clump of snow with the toe of his boot.

  “Are you afraid my sled might beat yours in a race? Is that why you left it in the barn?”

  Jacob shook his head.

  “Then why didn’t you bring it?”

  “I just told you … I don’t feel like sledding today.”

  “How come?”

  “You ask too many questions, little bensel [silly child].”

  “I’m not a silly child. Will you ever stop calling me that?”

  “Maybe someday … when we’re both old and gray.”

  Rachel frowned. “Very funny.”

  Jacob reached down and scooped up a handful of snow. He waited until Rachel walked past him, then splat!—the cold, wet snow hit the collar of Rachel’s coat. Some ran down her neck.

  Rachel shivered and glared at Jacob. “I think someone ought to wash your face in the snow!”

  “Who’s gonna do it?” Jacob taunted. “You, little bensel?”

  Rachel was tempted to say something mean to her brother but figured he would say something even meaner.

  You’re the silly child, she thought as she hurried along. Someday you’ll be sorry you teased me so much, and I hope it’s before we’re both old and gray.

  When Rachel arrived at school, she spotted several sleds lined up near the porch. Orlie Troyer stood nearby talking with another boy.

  “Guder mariye, Rachel,” he said. “I see you brought your sled with you today.”

  “Good morning.” Rachel leaned her sled against the building. “I can hardly wait for recess. It will be so much fun to go sledding.”

  Orlie motioned to his sled. “I’m sure I’ll have more fun than anyone else, since I’ve got the fastest sled here.”

  “I’ll bet my sled’s faster,” Rachel said.

  Orlie wrinkled his freckled nose. “Bet it’s not.”

  Before Rachel could respond, Orlie said, “How about if I race you at recess and we’ll see who has the fastest sled?”

  Rachel nodded. “I’d be happy to race you. I was going to suggest that.”

  Just then their teacher, Elizabeth Miller, rang the school bell. Jacob nudged Rachel’s arm. “We’d better get inside.”

  “Jah, okay.” Rachel hurried into the room with the rest of the children who’d been in the snowy schoolyard.

  Rachel hung her coat on a wall peg near the door and placed her black outer bonnet and lunch pail on the shelf above. Then she went to her desk.

  Elizabeth tapped her desk bell, signaling for everyone to get quiet. “Good morning, boys and girls.”

  “Good morning, Elizabeth,” the children said.

  Rachel was happy that Elizabeth was back from her trip to Tennessee. She’d gone there shortly before Christmas to see her grandmother. Rachel had missed Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth opened her Bible and read from Proverbs 14:5: “A truthful witness does not deceive, but a false witness pours out lies.”

  Rachel cringed as she thought about this morning when Mom had wondered how Cuddles had gotten in the house.

  As soon as I get home I’d better tell Mom the truth about letting Cuddles into my room last night, Rachel decided.

  “Psst … Rachel, stand for prayer.” Mary nudged Rachel’s arm from across the aisle.

  Rachel jumped to her feet and bowed her head as she and the other children said the Lord’s Prayer.

  After the prayer, everyone filed to the front of the room and sang one song in English and one in German.

  When the children returned to their seats, classes began.

  For the next hour, Rachel concentrated on her schoolwork. When it was time for morning recess, Rachel hurried to the back of the room, slipped into her heavy wool cape and black bonnet, and rushed out the door.

  “Can I take a quick ride?” Rachel’s cousin Mary asked when Rachel grabbed hold of her sled.

  Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t you bring your sled today?”

  Mary shook her head. “One of the runners is wobbly. Papa hasn’t fixed it yet.”

  Rachel stared at her sled. Morning recess wasn’t very long. If she let Mary borrow the sled, she might not have enough time to race Orlie. Still, Rachel didn’t want to be selfish. “I’ll le
t you use my sled after I race Orlie,” she said.

  “Please, Rachel.” Mary pouted. “I’ll just take one quick ride—I promise.”

  “Maybe Mary would like to race me,” Orlie said, pulling his sled beside Rachel’s.

  Mary shook her head. “I just want a nice ride down the hill. I don’t want to race anyone.”

  “That’s okay. It’s Rachel I promised to race anyway.” Orlie gave Rachel his slanted grin. “We can have our race as soon as Mary brings your sled back up the hill.”

  Rachel nibbled on her lip. As much as she wanted to race Orlie right now, she wanted to please her cousin, too. Mary was Rachel’s best friend, and if she didn’t let Mary use the sled, Mary might think Rachel was selfish.

  “Okay, Mary,” Rachel said. “Just one ride, though. Remember, I’m supposed to race Orlie. He thinks he can beat me.”

  “Jah, okay.” Mary grabbed the rope on Rachel’s sled and pulled it to the hill behind the schoolhouse where the others were sledding.

  Rachel followed. “Just one turn,” she reminded her cousin.

  Mary sat on the sled and grabbed the rope attached to the steering handles. “Would you please give me a push, Rachel?”

  Rachel placed both hands on Mary’s back. “One … two … three!” She pushed hard, but the sled only moved a few inches.

  “Try it again, Rachel!” Mary directed over her shoulder. “You’re not pushing hard enough.”

  Rachel gritted her teeth. “I did push hard. The sled doesn’t want to move.”

  “If it won’t move, then it sure won’t beat my sled,” Orlie said.

  “Maybe some snow is stuck to the runners.” Mary climbed off the sled and kicked at a clump of snow underneath the runners. Then she climbed back on. “Let’s try it again.”

  “Ooph!” Rachel grunted as she gave Mary another hefty shove. This time the sled glided down the hill, but at a snail’s pace.

  Orlie snickered and nudged Rachel with his elbow. “You won’t beat me on that slow sled!”

  Rachel frowned. If her sled wouldn’t go any faster than this, how could she beat Orlie?

  “I think I’ll take my sled for a trial run,” Orlie said. “As fast as my sled goes, I should be back up here before Mary makes it to the bottom.”