“Let the cat come into your room,” Mom said, finishing Rachel’s sentence.
Rachel nodded.
“Was Cuddles on your bed?”
“Jah.”
“You know I don’t mind the cat being inside as long as she’s wearing a flea collar, but I don’t approve of her being on your bed.”
“I’m sorry for letting Cuddles sleep on my bed,” Rachel said. “And I’m sorrier for not telling you sooner.”
Mom gave Rachel a hug. “I accept your apology, and I’m glad you told the truth. Confession’s always good for the soul.”
Rachel nodded and nestled against Mom’s chest. At least the troublesome day had ended on a good note.
Chapter 3
True or False
Wheeee!” Rachel stretched out her legs as she hung onto the rope dangling from the hayloft in their barn. “This is fun!” she shouted to Jacob, who was cleaning one of the horse stalls. “Do you want to take a turn?”
Jacob held up the shovel in his hands. “I’d like to, but I’ve got work to do.” He squinted at Rachel. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to be in the house, studying for tomorrow’s history test.”
Rachel let go of the rope and dropped into the mound of hay below. “I’ll study later. Right now I think I’ll visit old Tom,” she said, scrambling to her feet.
Jacob frowned. “You’ll be sorry if you flunk that test.”
“I passed my spelling test last week.”
“That’s different; you like spelling.”
It was true—spelling came easy to Rachel. History was harder for her, and she didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as she did spelling.
“I’ll study later.” Rachel headed for the stall where Pap’s old buggy horse was kept when he wasn’t in the pasture. Old Tom couldn’t pull their buggy anymore, so Rachel visited him as often as she could.
As Rachel stepped into Tom’s stall, the sweet smell of fresh hay tickled her nose.
She was glad Tom had a nice warm place to stay during the cold winter months. She was glad Pap had kept the horse even though he was getting old and couldn’t do much.
“How are you doing, Tom?”
Tom dropped his head, and Rachel stroked his silky brown mane. “Are you warm enough here in the barn?”
Tom whinnied and nuzzled Rachel’s hand with his warm nose.
“Sorry, but I didn’t bring you a treat today,” Rachel said. “If Mom has any apples, I’ll bring you one tomorrow.”
Tom lifted his head and snorted. He moved away from Rachel and found a spot to lie down in the hay.
Rachel figured Tom wanted to take a nap, so she left the stall and went to look for a ball of string, hoping to play with Cuddles. She found some string on a shelf where Pap kept his tools. She hurried toward a pile of straw on the other side of the barn, where Cuddles liked to sleep.
“What are you up to now?” Jacob asked as Rachel passed him.
“I’m going to play with Cuddles.”
“I thought you were gonna study for the history test.”
“You’re not my boss,” she mumbled. “I said I would study later.”
Who did Jacob think he was, trying to tell her what to do?
“Never said I was.” Jacob leaned the shovel against the wall. “I’m done cleaning, so I’m gonna do my homework. Are you sure you don’t want to do yours now, too?”
She shook her head. “I can study after supper.”
“Suit yourself.” Jacob shrugged and headed out the door.
Rachel hurried over to the pile of straw, but Cuddles wasn’t there. “Where are you, Cuddles? Come, kitty, kitty,” she called.
She spotted Cuddles in the far corner of the barn, chasing a tiny gray mouse. “Stop it!” she scolded. “Leave that poor maus [mouse] alone.”
Cuddles paid no attention to Rachel and continued the chase. Round and round the barn she went—leaping in the air, swiping with her paws, and meowing for all she was worth.
Rachel hollered for Cuddles to stop, but her yelling made no difference. “If you hurt that maus, you’ll get no supper tonight.” She shook her finger as the cat and mouse whizzed past again. “I won’t let you chase my bubbles anymore!”
The mouse darted into a hole near one of the cow’s stalls. Cuddles slammed into the wall. Meow! She shook her furry head and looked up at Rachel as if to say, “Don’t you feel sorry for me?”
Rachel clucked her tongue, the way Mom often did. “That wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to me.”
Cuddles swiped a paw across Rachel’s shoe. Meow! Meow!
Rachel thought about how sad she felt whenever she got in trouble. Maybe Cuddles felt that way, too. She bent down and scooped the cat into her arms. “I love you, Cuddles, but you must learn to listen.”
Cuddles responded with a sandpapery kiss on Rachel’s chin and began to purr.
Rachel found a seat on a bale of straw and placed Cuddles on her lap. It felt nice to sit in the warm barn and stroke her silky cat. It was a lot more fun than sitting at the kitchen table, studying for a history test she didn’t want to take.
Rachel leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. It’s supposed to be a true or false test, so it might not be too hard. Maybe I can guess at which answers are right and which are wrong.
During supper that evening, Rachel told her family about Cuddles and the mouse. “I hollered at Cuddles,” she said, reaching for a pickle, “but the cat kept chasing that poor little maus.”
“There are some things we just can’t control,” Grandpa said. “Stopping a cat from chasing a mouse is one of those things.”
“That’s right,” Pap said with a nod. “Cuddles was doing what comes naturally for a cat, and it wasn’t something you could control.”
Rachel bit into the pickle and puckered her lips. She loved dill pickles, even if they were a bit tangy.
“Did you get all your homework done?” Mom asked, turning to Rachel.
Rachel opened her mouth to reply, but Jacob spoke first. “She never even opened her books.” He stared at Rachel. “All she’s done since she got home from school is play in the barn, dangle from the rope, pet Old Tom, and chase Cuddles.”
Pap’s eyebrows drew together as he frowned at Rachel. “Don’t you have a history test in the morning?”
“Jah. I’ll study after supper,” she said.
Pap nodded and reached for the platter of roast beef. “I hope you do well on the test.”
Rachel hoped that, too.
When supper was over and the dishes were done, Rachel headed for the stairs leading to her room.
“Don’t forget your schoolbooks,” Mom called. “You left them on the counter near the back door.”
Rachel turned back and scooped up the books. When she entered her room, she placed the books on her dresser and sat on the end of her bed. “Brrr.” She rubbed her hands briskly over her arms. “It sure is cold up here.”
She reached for the extra quilt at the foot of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she moved to the window and lifted the shade. The moon shone brightly, making the snow-covered yard glisten like a blanket of twinkling fireflies. It was a perfect night for sledding.
Rachel shivered as she thought about her recent sledding experience when she ended up in the creek. She would have to be more careful the next time she took her sled to school.
She leaned close to the frosty window and blew on it. A circle formed on the glass where her hot breath made contact. Using her finger, she drew her name. She blew again, and the clock by her bed kept time with her breathing. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Breathe in … blow out.
Rachel stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She felt so sleepy. Maybe she would stretch out on the bed and rest awhile before she studied.
Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!
Rachel sat up with a start. Was that the rooster crowing? Their old red rooster had never crowed in the middle of the night before.
She r
olled over and stared at the clock by her bed. It was 6 a.m.!
Rachel glanced down at her wrinkled dress and gasped. I must have fallen asleep last night and never got ready for bed!
She scrambled out of bed and hurried to her dresser. When she opened a drawer and took out a pair of clean socks, she spotted her schoolbooks on top of the dresser. “Oh no! I didn’t study for the history test!”
Rachel glanced at the clock. It was too late to study now. She needed to get washed, dressed, and hurry downstairs to help Mom with breakfast. Maybe I can study on the way to school. Jah, that’s what I’ll do.
As Rachel trudged through the slippery snow toward the schoolhouse, she found it hard to hold her history book, which she had taken out of her backpack. Each time she took a step, the book shifted in her hands.
“Always trouble somewhere,” Rachel grumbled as the book snapped shut.
“If you weren’t trying to study while you walk, you wouldn’t have so much trouble.” Jacob snickered. “My silly schweschder [sister], the little bensel.”
Rachel glared at Jacob. “I am not a silly child!”
“Jah, you are.”
“Am not.”
“Are so.”
And so it went until Rachel and Jacob reached the schoolhouse. Between trying to keep her history book open and arguing with Jacob, Rachel hadn’t studied at all. If she didn’t think of some way to control this situation, she would probably fail her history test.
Rachel stomped the snow off her boots and was about to enter the schoolhouse when someone tapped her shoulder. She whirled around. There stood freckle-faced Orlie, wearing his usual crooked grin.
“Are you ready for another sled race during recess?” he asked.
Rachel shook her head. “I didn’t bring my sled with me today.”
“Maybe you can borrow your cousin Mary’s sled.” Orlie nudged Rachel’s arm. “Mary said her daed fixed her wobbly runner last night, so she brought the sled with her today.”
“No thanks. I’m not interested in racing you again.”
“You don’t feel like taking another swim in the creek, huh?”
Rachel ground her teeth together. Orlie teased as much as Jacob. Did he enjoy making fun of her?
She pushed past Orlie and stepped into the schoolhouse, where a burst of toasty air greeted her. Elizabeth had stoked the woodstove so the scholars would be warm and snug.
Rachel hoped to have time to study for the history test during the morning, but Elizabeth kept everyone busy with arithmetic problems.
Rachel had a hard time concentrating on arithmetic when she only wanted to open her history book and study for the test they’d take after their noon recess.
When Elizabeth announced that it was time for morning recess, Rachel thought she might have time to look at her history book. But Mary insisted that Rachel join her and the other girls in a snowball fight against the boys.
“Oh, all right,” Rachel finally agreed. She didn’t want to disappoint Mary.
Everyone put on their coats, gloves, and hats, and hurried outside.
“Let’s wait until each team has one hundred snowballs made before we start,” Phoebe Byler suggested.
Aaron King grunted. “If we took the time to make that many snowballs, recess would be over before the snowball fight began.”
“Aaron’s right,” Orlie put in. “Let’s have each girl make three snowballs, and each boy make five snowballs.”
“That’s not right,” Rachel spoke up. “Why should the boys get to make more snowballs than the girls?”
“Because there are eighteen girls and only twelve boys.” Orlie planted his hands on his hips like he was the boss. “That will give the girls fifty-four snowballs and the boys will have—”
“Sixty!” Mary shouted. “That’s not right!”
Jacob stepped forward. “Jah, it is. Since there are fewer boys than girls, we need an advantage.”
“No, you don’t,” Becky Esh said with a shake of her head.
“Do so.” Orlie insisted.
“Do not.”
“Do so.”
“Do not.”
Rachel threw a snowball. Splat! It hit Orlie’s cheek and ran down his neck.
“Hey, that was not fair! I wasn’t ready!” He bent down, scooped a handful of snow, and threw it at Rachel.
She ducked, and the snowball whizzed over her head. “Ha! You missed me!” she shouted as she ran away.
Orlie chased Rachel, and everyone started making snowballs fast and flinging them at whoever got in their way. So much for a snowball fight with the girls against the boys!
Soon Elizabeth called to the children. A group of laughing red-nosed, rosy-cheeked scholars returned to the schoolhouse and hung up their coats, hats, and gloves. After everyone was seated at their desks, the curtain dividing the room was drawn, and grades three through eight were given a reading lesson, followed by a time of questions from the teacher about what they had learned.
At eleven thirty, the children were dismissed by rows to wash their hands, get their lunch boxes, and return to their seats. It was too cold to eat outside like they did on warmer days. After eating their lunches, the children were allowed to play outside until twelve thirty.
I have plenty of time to study for the test now, Rachel thought as the other children donned their coats and filed out the door.
Rachel remained in her seat. She was reaching for her history book when Elizabeth asked, “Aren’t you going outside to play with the others?”
“Not this time.” Rachel shook her head. “It’s too cold out, and I thought I would—”
“If you’re not going outside, would you like to help me cut out some paper stars?”
“What are they for?” Rachel asked.
“Each time someone gets a perfect score on a lesson, he or she will get to pick out a star and write his or her name on it,” Elizabeth replied. “A perfect score on a test will get the scholar two paper stars.”
“Oh, I see.”
“We’ll put the stars around the schoolhouse and see if we can get so many that they go up to the ceiling.” Elizabeth patted Rachel’s head. “If you and I get some stars cut out now, we’ll have enough to give everyone who gets a perfect score on the history test this afternoon.”
Rachel knew if she spent the next half hour cutting out paper stars, she would have no time to study for the test. She couldn’t tell Elizabeth she didn’t want to help because she hadn’t studied.
“Won’t Sharon help you with the stars?” Rachel asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I asked her to go outside with the scholars.” She frowned. “After the snowball fight during morning recess, I figured either Sharon or I should be outside to be sure everything goes well.”
Forcing a smile, Rachel nodded and said, “Okay, I’ll help you cut out the stars.”
Elizabeth gave Rachel a stack of colored paper, a pattern to trace the stars, and a pair of scissors; then she returned to her own desk and cut out stars, too.
Rachel hummed as she traced the first star onto a sheet of bright yellow paper. This was a lot more fun than studying for the history test would have been.
Lunch recess was over sooner than Rachel had hoped, and when everyone took their seats, Elizabeth said it was time for the middle-grade scholars to take their history test.
As Rachel stared at the true and false questions on the paper she’d been given, a knot formed in her stomach. She didn’t know any of the answers. She could only guess.
What if my guesses are wrong? she fretted. How can I face Mom and Pap if I fail this test?
Rachel tapped her pencil along the edge of her desk. Tap-tappety-tap-tap.
She set the pencil down and placed her arms on top of the desk. Still, no answers came. She looked at the front of the room and stared at the letters and numbers on a wide strip of paper above the blackboard. Think, Rachel … think hard. True or false? False or true?
Suddenly, an idea popped into R
achel’s head. She knew how she might be able to pass the test!
Orlie’s desk used to be behind Rachel’s, but last week Elizabeth had moved him in front of Rachel, because he kept whispering and tapping Rachel’s shoulder. If Rachel craned her neck a bit, she had the perfect view of Orlie’s desk.
In that moment, Rachel made a hasty decision. She would copy the answers from Orlie’s paper.
Chapter 4
Buddy
Rachel Yoder, I’d like to speak to you,” Elizabeth said when class was over for the day. “Orlie Troyer…I need to see you as well.”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder. Everyone but Jacob had put on his or her coat and was heading out the door. Jacob stood at the back of the room with his arms folded and a scowl on his face.
“Jacob, you may wait outside for your sister.” Elizabeth motioned Rachel and Orlie to the front of the room. “Kumme [come] now.”
Rachel’s heart hammered as she shuffled behind Orlie to their teacher’s desk. The frown on Elizabeth’s face let Rachel know that she’d probably done something wrong.
“I’ve been going over the true and false answers you both gave on the history test. Neither of you will get a star, because almost every one of your answers was wrong.” Elizabeth paused and pointed to the stack of papers on her desk. “The strange thing is that each of you had exactly the same answers.” She looked at Orlie. She looked at Rachel. “Which of you copied from the other person’s paper?”
Rachel lowered her gaze and scuffed the toe of her shoe against the wooden floor.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Teacher,” Orlie said. “I never copied anyone’s paper.”
Elizabeth touched Rachel’s arm. “True or false, Rachel? Did you copy Orlie’s paper?”
Rachel forced herself to look at the teacher. “True.”
Elizabeth’s forehead wrinkled. “Why would you do something like that?”
“I—I didn’t know the answers,” Rachel mumbled. “I was afraid to guess.”
Look Out, Lancaster County Page 21
