Fields of Corn: The Amish of Lancaster

by Sarah Price

  He hesitated then shook her hand. "Emanuel. My daed said you'd be here for several months."

  "I work in the area," she quickly explained.

  "What kind of work?" He spoke with a gentleness that Shana found soothing.

  "I manage a restaurant in Lancaster. Actually, I've just been temporarily transferred from my hometown in Connecticut."

  His face lit up. "Connecticut? Why, you must've been driving all day!"

  Shifting the bag in her arms again, Shana smiled, amused at his sudden enthusiasm. Certainly, not familiar with the speed of automobile travel, Connecticut might have been another continent to Emanuel. "If I hadn't gotten lost, it wouldn't have taken me so long."

  Emanuel laughed, his crystal blue eyes crinkling into half moons and his mouth twisting into a lopsided friendly grin. "Ay, you got lost." Then, he quickly sobered and lowered his eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't laugh. It isn't funny, getting lost, is it?"

  "I didn't mind. The country is so beautiful."

  "Emanuel!" They both jerked their heads in the direction of the female voice calling for Emanuel.

  "That's my mamm." Emanuel lowered his head as he excused himself. "Ach vell, I must finish my chores 'fore the evening meal." He started to walk away then, hesitating, he turned back. "It will be nice to spend some time with you, Shana." He gave her a final friendly smile before hurrying off to the barn.

  The dog barked from the other side of the barn and one of the mules snorted loudly. Shana returned her attention to them, long enough to run her hand down the closest one's nose. Its velvet flesh warmed her touch. From the other barn, a cow bellowed and Shana quickly glanced over her shoulder at the barn, quiet from noise yet busy with activity. Then, giving the mule one more friendly rub, she whispered, "Good night, big girl," before she left the mule stable and walked to her house.

  It was shortly after eight o'clock, the sun fading rapidly behind the hill, when someone knocked softly at her door. Shana shut the book she had been reading and walked toward the open door. Sylvia stood outside, a bulking towel in her hand. She shuffled her feet, her large eyes peering eagerly inside the house, curious about the few knick-knacks Shana had set about the kitchen. When Shana opened the screen door, the girl handed her the towel then retreated toward the large farmhouse.

  For a moment, Shana stared after her. Her two encounters with the young Amish girl gave Shana the impression that Sylvia was equally curious about the non-Amish woman now living on her father's farm. Shutting the door, Shana peered inside the towel to find three large eggs, nestled in the scratchy, yet clean, cloth.

  She smiled to herself and leaned against the door for a minute, listening to the sounds of the farm. The cows wandered noisily from the paddock into the fields. The dog barked twice then quieted down, as though bidding the farm goodnight. Sighing, Shana turned the brass lock. It clicked shut. Amish, Shana thought as she turned off the lights and headed upstairs, tired from moving, anxious about her landlords, and excited about starting work the next day.

  Chapter Two

  Driving down Musser School Lane, Shana suddenly felt overwhelmed that, after twelve long days working at the restaurant, she needed the long weekend that her Regional Manager had insisted she take. Her former manager, Robert, had promised her a challenge in Lancaster and he certainly had followed through. Since her move to Lancaster, she had spent every day at work, often until two o'clock in the morning, trying to balance the books and supervise the too-often lazy wait staff. The restaurant, though small, needed a lot of work in order to maintain Shana's standards.

  Four days to myself, she thought as she parked her car outside of her small house. She hadn't spent much time familiarizing herself with the Lapp farm. Most days, the farm seemed distant and surreal to her. She rarely even thought about her Amish landlords. Now, as she leaned against her car and looked around, she saw the farm in a fresh, bright light.

  The plain white kitchen curtains fluttered through the open window and the plant she had purchased one day as she drove to work hung from the rafters of her front porch. A gentle breeze blew through the laundry Katie had left dying on a clothesline stretched from the corner of the farmhouse porch to the side of the barn. Yes, she thought, after twelve long days, she found herself relieved to be away from the restaurant and even more relieved to be able to spend a couple of days around the peace and tranquility of the Lapp farm.

  She had tried to capture some of that serenity. Most nights, even though she arrived home so late, she usually sat outside on the porch, listening to the crickets chirping in the cornfields and the cows fussing in the paddock. Some nights, the stars would illuminate the sky around an almost full moon. Slowly, Shana found herself absorbing the tranquility that surrounded her. After stressful days, she often caught herself daydreaming and yearning for her special time at night on the porch. It relaxed her, helped her unwind. She'd shut her eyes, lean back in her old rickety chair, and hear the sounds of the sleeping farm.

  Now, the cows stood impatiently in the paddock as two of Katie's sons spread hay into their troughs. Shana returned their eager waves as she walked from her car to her house. While she hadn't spent much time on the farm since her arrival, she had met Jonas' wife, Katie, on her second day. Usually before Shana left for work, she bumped into Katie walking back from the mailbox with the previous day's mail. Katie's hair, always neatly parted in the middle and rolled back into a bun, hid under her white prayer cap. She walked around barefoot in the yard as she weeded the gardens, hung out the laundry, or swept the long driveway. Fortunately, the mother of ten children, she had plenty of help.

  "Home early today, ja?"

  Startled, Shana dropped the house key as she whirled around. When she recognized Emanuel, she smiled as she bent down to pick up her key. "I think you like sneaking up on me," she teased.

  "Don't mean to," he quickly apologized. He leaned against the porch, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his faded black trousers as he followed her with his eyes.

  Several flies swarmed past her head as she opened the door and she waved her hand at them. "I suppose I'll get used to it, eventually."

  "Getting used to the cows at night, are you?"

  While it was true that the cows had kept her awake during those first few nights, their soft mooing and clambering around the paddock had become quite relaxing and peaceful. "They don't bother me. I get home so late some nights that I fall right asleep, never even noticing the noise."

  "You work hard at your new job, then, if you come home so late," he observed, more to himself than to her.

  "I suppose I do, yes," she admitted. "But that's what they pay me for, isn't it?" she added with another smile as she met his curious gaze.

  For a brief moment, they stood there, staring at each other, neither certain of what to say. Shana hadn't spoken to Emanuel since their first encounter, although, one day, she had seen him along the edge of his father's field. At first, in his dirty work clothes, she hadn't recognized him, thinking the man must have been an older son with those muscular arms and intense seriousness as he followed patiently behind the team of four mules and heavy machinery. But, when the man in the field took off his hat and waved at her, she recognized the curly brown hair and cheerful smile. Shana had rolled down the window to her car and returned the gesture and, to her surprise, her thoughts had lingered on him and the Amish for the rest of her ride to work.

  Emanuel broke the silence. "Just bought a new horse today," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

  "Really?" When he didn't say anything else, Shana quickly added, "I'd like to see it."

  She set her purse inside the door and, quietly followed Emanuel around the barn and toward the stables. The young dog tied to its doghouse perked up when he saw Shana. Barking loudly, the dog lurched forward. Emanuel walked over and untied it. The dog quickly ran toward Shana, sniffing at her legs and finally, jumping up on her. Shana took a step back, steadying herself, as she rubbed the dog's head.

  "You're
a frisky one, aren't you?" she asked, laughing as the dog started chewing at her hand and licking her arm.

  "Down boy," Emanuel softly ordered and the dog ran off toward the cow paddock. "He likes to chase the cows sometimes," Emanuel explained.

  Inside the stable, Shana let her eyes adjust to the dim light. There were several buggies in the wide aisle between the six stalls. Each buggy had a bright orange reflector triangle screwed onto the back, one with a Great Adventure Amusement Park bumper sticker neatly stuck onto it. The horses, five in all, stood patiently in their individual stalls.

  "Which one is yours?"

  Emanuel pointed toward the one in the center. "The fat little one." He opened the stall door and stood next to the horse. "Name's Lucky Monday." He rubbed the horse's neck and tugged gently at its ear. "She came in from Iowa."

  "She's beautiful. You should be very proud." Shana watched Emanuel as he ran his strong hands down the horse's neck. While his religion might have frowned on pride, the glow in his eyes could not hide his pleasure with the animal. Feeling more comfortable as she watched him stroke the horse's neck, Shana reached out and ran her hand down the horse's nose as she teased, "Do you think she likes it here?"

  Emanuel shrugged his shoulders and smiled, his crystal blue eyes crinkling into half-moons. "Vell, no reason she shouldn't learn," he replied modestly as he patted the horse's shoulder affectionately and met her gaze again. "Went riding today with her. You ride?"

  "I haven't in a while," she replied. "I used to ride when I was little. I'd go to summer camp for horseback riding. Out in Connecticut. But, when I got older, my parents didn't have time to keep it up." She remembered now how disappointed she had been, crying about not being able to visit Lollypop, the small grey pony that she had adopted at the children's equestrian school. But, before long, she had forgotten about horses, especially when she got a part-time job after school.

  "There's always time to ride horses on a farm, " Emanuel said softly, his eyes downcast and the tone of his voice sounding almost sympathetic. For a fleeting second, Shana almost felt sorrow, too, at the aspect of her childhood that she had missed once her parents hadn't let her continue attending summer camp not to mention the friend she had lost in Lollypop. Emanuel interrupted her thoughts as he smiled again, staring at her with his dancing eyes. "Maybe we can go riding then, ja?"

  Shana met his gaze for a moment, wondering what he thought of her. Their worlds were separated by a large three hundred year gap. The society that embraced him continued to prosper by stressing the family unit and their close-knit community. Hers prospered by forcing independence and self-sufficiency. Every man for himself, she thought. So, she asked herself, if his religion frowns upon unnecessary relations with the non-Amish world, why do his eyes light up when he talks to me?

  "I'd like that, Emanuel," she heard herself respond.

  "I don't believe I remember your name," he asked quietly.

  "Shana."

  "Shana," he repeated as though engraving it in his memory. "I haven't heard that name before," he said. "Who were you named after?"

  Shana laughed. "Myself."

  He frowned. "It isn't a family name then?" When he saw her confused look, he explained. "Amish children are usually named after aunts or uncles or some other relation. Keeps the family names going. Although," he admitted, lowering his voice, "it can get confusing. I have five cousins named Linda Lapp."

  Shana smiled at his sincerity. "I imagine it can be confusing."

  Another wave of uneasy silence struck them, although Shana realized that she was the one uncomfortable with the silence. She was so used to being surrounded by noise and people talking that she hadn't learned the joy of nothing. She watched as Emanuel rubbed his hands over Lucky Monday's neck, his body leaning against the horse's side. Despite his silence, he was communicating with his new horse just by touching it. The horse responded with a gentle snort and a lift of her head.

  Emanuel took a step back and began to withdraw his hand when Shana noticed that most of his pointer finger was missing. He looked up and, as though reading her mind, explained with a simple, "Farming accident last year."

  "I didn't mean to stare," she apologized quickly, a blush covering her cheeks. She looked away, embarrassed at herself.

  "It was strange at first, trying to get used to not having it. Sometimes in the field I have problems with the reins. They slip through my other fingers. But, I just pick them back up and steer the mules back on track. It was easy to adjust when one has no choice." He laughed at the startled expression that clouded her face as he wiggled his fingers and said, "That's why God gave me nine others."

  It dawned on her that Emanuel's calm, gentle character came not just from within but also from the culture that surrounded him. Unlike her world of aggression and occasional self-pity, Emanuel had grown up always looking for the positive aspects, even in the most hurtful situations. Unlike me, she thought. For weeks before her move, she had felt sorry for herself, being torn away from friends and family to move so far away. Yet, here was Emanuel, cheerful and teasing about an accident that had caused him to be physically maimed in a senseless accident.

  Emanuel, sensing her discomfort, quickly changed the subject as he moved away from the horse and leaned against the side of the stall. Resting his arm on the ledge of the open door, he stared at her curiously and asked, "Aren't you lonely living by yourself?"

  "Lonely?" she repeated. Was that the word for what she had been feeling? "I hadn't given it much thought, Emanuel," she answered truthfully. In the past few days, she hadn't time to feel alone. Her work occupied most of her days and, when she was away from the restaurant, she relished the quiet. "And I sure do know that I'm looking forward to some time alone, away from work," she quickly added.

  "What kind of work is that again?"

  "I manage a restaurant." Last year in college, she had started waitressing for the chain restaurant where her enthusiasm quickly found her promoted to a part-time assistant manager. Then, after her graduation several months earlier, they had promoted her to a full-time manager, offering to transfer her to a slightly more challenging restaurant with the promise that, if she fared well, she'd be transferred again with a nice promotion. While hesitant about moving away from home, she had finally agreed, knowing that the benefit of accepting certainly outweighed the disadvantages of turning down their offer.

  "I get tired of the people sometimes," she found herself confiding in Emanuel as she leaned against the hard, wooden stall. "They can be so demanding. Yet, even though the problems that come with working in a restaurant get bothersome, all in all, I guess I like it."

  "There's a bar, then?"

  The mischievous gleam in his eyes almost made her laugh. So, she thought, Emanuel Lapp is a rebellious youth, eager to learn about the outside world. But she held back her own smile for fear of insulting his curiosity. "That's a problem in itself," she admitted before changing the subject. "But I have a few days off, now. And I'm certainly looking forward to that." She reached out and gently rubbed Lucky Monday's nose. A silence ensued and Shana reached for something to talk about. "Is this your first horse?"

  "Other one's over there," he said as he motioned toward the other side of the barn. A tall, brown stallion reared his head as though he knew Emanuel was talking about him. "Probably give him to my daed now."

  "He's a beauty, too."

  "Not as fast as cars though," Emanuel commented with another mischievous gleam, confirming Shana's earlier suspicion.

  "Certainly much nicer to deal with."

  "I had a car when I was younger," he admitted quietly, refusing to meet Shana's eyes. "Kept it at my uncle's apartment. Brown Dodge with fat wheels on the back. Drove all over the place. Even went down to Philadelphia." He grinned, his eyes crinkling again. "Fast car, that. Took me less than two hours to get down there. You can drive anywhere in just a few minutes and time becomes just another thing we take advantage of, never appreciating each moment that passes as a ble
ssing from God. So, I sold it. Too worldly, ja? And I was getting too old for such things. Besides, my parents weren't too happy about the car and if I want to join the church..."

  While the Amish fought so hard to shelter their youth from the modern culture surrounding their farms, it didn't surprise her that a few managed to find it anyway, its inevitability always lingering on the outskirts of their community. Shana suspected that the Amish youth rebellion was mostly male-oriented, a type of male-bonding and perhaps a form of soul-searching before they joined the church, settled down with their girlfriends, and started their own farms and families.

  "How old are you?" she heard herself ask.

  "Twenty-six," he replied solemnly.

  "I hadn't thought you to be that old," she murmured, suddenly feeling very foolish. His youthful glow and small stature had, indeed, misled her.

  "Ja, old buwe," he said teasingly, although Shana didn't understand the Deitsch word he spoke. She frowned and looked at him but he didn't bother explaining. Instead, he quickly added, "Don't know if I'm ready to settle down yet. How about you?"