A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  The raw anger she saw took her breath away. “I am disgusted by your cruel, inhumane treatment of my bruder.” He chewed on every word and spit it out like poison. “I only came to tell you that I went to Menno Kiem’s house before I came here.” Menno Kiem. One of the members of the school board. “I will be meeting with the entire school board tonight to demand they fire you immediately. You are the most heartless girl I have ever met, and you will burn in the fires of hell for what you’ve done to my bruder.”

  Well. She hadn’t expected him to mince words, but burn in the fires of hell? Elsie knew she was provoking him, but she couldn’t help herself. “So much for Christian forgiveness.”

  He seemed to erupt. “Christian forgiveness? What about Christian charity and love for your fellow men? If you had even a spark of goodness in you, you’d be on your knees begging my forgiveness. But I don’t expect it. That’s why I’m going to the school board.”

  Elsie wanted this job. She wanted it badly, if only to help Wally—if only to heal the harmful environment he had created here. But she couldn’t do what she had to do if she was forever worried about keeping her job. “If you want to have me fired, have me fired. I am not so desperate for a job that I must bow to your wishes or be punished. The only person you’ll be hurting is Wally. He needs me.”

  Sam nearly lost his balance on the desk he sat on. “Needs you? You are the last person Wally needs. You have done more harm to him in two weeks than every cruel word that has ever been spoken to him.”

  She drew a deep breath and paused for a long moment. “Why are you so convinced that people are cruel to Wally?”

  “Because they are. He tells me about it almost every day.”

  Elsie leaned back and studied Sam’s face. “What do you do when he comes home so upset?”

  Sam narrowed his eyes. “I give him my love and comfort. He doesn’t get it from anywhere else.”

  “And then you try to make him feel better by letting him play video games.”

  “It’s the only thing that makes him happy.”

  Elsie shook her head. “To you, he’ll always only be a poor little crippled boy. You’ve given up on him, just like everybody else except me.”

  The fire in his eyes flared hot. “How dare you say that? You treat him with cruelty. I would do anything for Wally.”

  “Except for what he truly needs, Sam.”

  “You don’t know anything.” Sam might have burst into flames he was so upset. He ran his fingers through his hair, and he looked terrible and fierce and breathtaking all at the same time. In that instant, Elsie’s heart broke. Sam’s love for his brother tortured and paralyzed him.

  Elsie didn’t want to be his adversary. She cared about Wally too. It was probably the one and only thing she and Sam had in common.

  She stood up and walked around the desk, dragging her chair with her. Even at the risk of getting it bitten off, she reached out her hand and took his as if she were going to shake it. He was probably too shocked to fight back. She pulled Sam and her chair to the reading corner, where another chair waited for them. “I’d like to talk with you face-to-face, without a desk between us and without the danger of your falling over every time I say something offensive.”

  Sam furrowed his brow, obviously suspicious that she might have put superglue on his chair, but he nodded curtly and sat down. His back was ramrod straight, and he was no doubt getting ready to unleash more wrath upon her. “I’m going to the school board, even if you apologize.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of apologizing.” She shouldn’t have said it. It only heightened Sam’s hostility. She took a deep breath and sat down, pulling her chair closer to him. A dangerous move, but if she wanted to prove her sincerity, she had to offer a little concession in return. “Sam,” she said, trying to sound reasonable and ignore his glare at the same time, “what did Wally tell you happened today?”

  “He said you made him play softball and then laughed at him when he tripped.” He leaned forward. “He said you threatened to make him a base if he didn’t play. Don’t you know how humiliating sports are for him? Or maybe you do know and you don’t care.”

  Elsie swallowed the reply that was on the tip of her tongue, reminding herself yet again that Sam was not her adversary. “Did you know that Wally won’t allow anyone to play softball at recess?”

  “What do you mean won’t allow?”

  “He tells the other children that if they play softball, it’s the same as making fun of him, then he bullies them into giving him money for being so unkind. He scares them and makes them feel guilty at the same time.”

  Sam shifted in his chair. “You’re making that up. Wally is a cripple. He can’t make anyone do anything.”

  “Don’t call him a cripple. Wally might only have one leg, but he’s a big boy. His friend Reuben is even bigger. They threaten the younger kids and scare them into bringing money to school.”

  Sam propped his elbow on his knee and swiped his hand across his mouth. “I don’t believe it,” he said, as if trying to convince himself.

  Elsie didn’t want to rub it in, but Sam needed the plain truth. “How else could he afford all those new video games?”

  Sam studied Elsie intently, and something seemed to shift on his face. “I . . . don’t know if I believe it.”

  She had a long list of Wally’s sins, but maybe that was enough for one day. Sam didn’t need the burden of everything, and he probably wouldn’t believe it if she gave it to him all at once.

  She reached out and patted Sam’s arm. He stiffened at her touch. “Wally doesn’t need another video game. I know you think you’re protecting him, but what Wally needs is a kick in the seat of the pants.”

  “Making him play softball is more like a kick in the teeth.”

  “If we treat Wally like a helpless cripple, he will never believe he can be anything more than that. He needs someone who will challenge him, someone who doesn’t think that the only thing he’s good for is playing video games.”

  “But everything else is too hard for him. Playing video games is all he can do.”

  It was Elsie’s turn to be angry. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

  Sam pressed his lips together, either resenting what Elsie had said or considering it. “I’m not here to talk about what you think of Wally. I’m here to tell you that I think it’s disgraceful to force him to play softball and then make fun of him when he can’t hit. All the kids laughed at him, and he was only trying to make it to first base.”

  She wanted to growl. Instead she looked him straight in the eye. “Sam, I know what you think of me, but I would never make fun of a student.”

  “Wally says you did.”

  Elsie longed to point out that Wally was a bully and a liar and that he would say anything to get his way, but it was quite too soon for that. Sam would probably stand up and try to talk to the top of her head again. So instead she shrugged as if she hadn’t a clue why Wally would say such a thing. “Maybe Wally thought I was making fun of him when I wasn’t. He’s very sensitive about his leg.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  Elsie sighed. Sam was too stubborn to give an inch. “I suppose I would. But just so you know, no one laughed when Wally tripped. That is his imagination talking. He was sure that the children would laugh, so in his mind, they did.”

  “Why should I believe you when you say you didn’t make fun of him?”

  Elsie was done trying to reason with him. “You don’t have to believe a word I say, Sam Sensenig. Go have your meeting with the school board, but be sure that you don’t say anything against me that you can’t take back later. It’s a sin to bear false witness. Maybe you should ask Perry and Danny what happened, if you’re really concerned for the truth.”

  Sam bolted to his feet. “Don’t think I won’t.”

  “I can only hope you will.”

  He tapped his hat back on his head and gave her one more glare for gute measure. “Don’t make Wally play
softball again. It upsets him.”

  She wouldn’t agree to that in a million years, so she just smiled as if he were her favorite person. “Goodbye, Sam. It was wonderful-gute to see you again.” She’d never told a bigger lie in her life.

  * * *

  After dinner, Sam put on his church clothes and tried to tame his hair with his fingers. His curly hair didn’t ever behave, but at least he’d made the effort. Danny, Perry, and Maggie were doing the dishes, and Wally was firmly ensconced downstairs playing Halo. Sam drew his eyebrows together. Where did Wally get the money to buy his video games? Sam didn’t believe for one minute what the teacher had told him about Wally making other children give him money. Wally couldn’t even walk without crutches. He was too helpless to bully people.

  And what about the softball game today? For sure and certain, Wally’s teacher had made up her own version to protect herself. Sam pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to believe her, but neither did he want to bear false witness. There was one way to find out the truth before he went to the school board. He strolled into the kitchen. “Danny and Perry, I need to talk to you in the living room.”

  Danny grinned, elbow-deep in soapy water. “Does that mean we don’t have to do the dishes?”

  Maggie let out a good-natured groan. “Don’t take my helpers.”

  Sam winked at his sister. “They’ll be right back. Don’t finish the dishes without them.”

  Danny wiped his hands on the towel. “Aww, why can’t Maggie do the dishes herself? She’s a girl.”

  Sam cocked an eyebrow. “With an attitude like that, you’ll never get a girl to marry you.”

  Danny and Perry followed him into the living room, and he motioned for them to sit on the love seat. He sat on the ottoman next to it. “Do you remember when you came running to the pasture and told me that Wally was crying and throwing things?”

  Perry nearly rolled his eyes. “It happened today yet. Of course we remember.”

  “I want to know what happened at school that made Wally cry.”

  “I told you,” Perry said. “He fell when he was running to first base.”

  Sam rested his elbows on his knees. “Did the teacher make fun of him?”

  Perry thought about that for a second. “Wally hit the ball right at her and she threw him out, but she got everybody out, except for the little kids.”

  “She didn’t get me out,” Danny said.

  Perry eyed Danny as if it should be obvious. “That’s because you’re one of the little kids.”

  “I am not. I got a gute hit.”

  Perry looked at Sam. “She’s a wonderful-gute pitcher. And she hits farther than any of the other girls.” He frowned. “Maybe she should have let Wally get on base. He can’t run good.”

  “But he’s not one of the little kids,” Danny said.

  Sam placed a hand on each of his brothers’ knees. “She didn’t make fun of Wally?”

  “Nae. She wanted him to play like all the other kids, but Wally was mad that he had to play. He doesn’t let anyone play softball.”

  Sam tried not to let the surprise show on his face. The teacher had said as much, and Sam had dismissed such talk as ridiculous. “What do you mean?”

  “He can’t play, so he tells everyone else they can’t play either,” Perry said, as if it were the most natural and just thing in the world. “I think Miss Stutzman hoped he would have fun.”

  Sam couldn’t, wouldn’t believe what he was hearing. Danny and Perry must have been mistaken, that was all. “Wally says the other kids laughed at him when he fell.”

  Danny shook his head. “Nobody laughed at him. Ida Mae tried to help him up, but he got mad and pushed her away. Then he wanted to go home, but Miss Stutzman wouldn’t let him.”

  Perry nodded, just as adamantly. “She made him come inside and quit pouting.”

  Quit pouting? Was that what Wally did?

  Sam’s chest felt as if it were full of lead. Of course Wally pouted. It was how he got his way. “Ach. Okay. Denki. That is what I wanted to know.”

  Perry stood and shuffled his feet. “It wonders me if she shouldn’t have got him out.”

  “But he’s not a little kid,” Danny said.

  They argued about it all the way back to the kitchen. Sam covered his mouth with his hand and sat in silence, listening to his brothers and Maggie finish the dishes. He hadn’t been wrong about the teacher—she was mean and contrary and proud. But maybe she hadn’t purposefully tried to embarrass Wally by making him play softball. Maybe it was like Perry said. Maybe she wanted Wally to have fun. Maybe she wanted all the children to have fun. Sam had played softball almost every warm day when he was in school. Die kinner should have the chance to play.

  Sam frowned. He didn’t like being wrong and seldom admitted it when he was, but he couldn’t go to the school board with a story that hadn’t happened, or at least that had several different versions. He would not bear false witness.

  He heard the thud of Wally’s crutches against the kitchen floor. He always came up halfway through a game to get a cookie and a glass of milk.

  “Wally,” Sam called.

  Wally poked his head into the living room. He was as cheerful as a redbird. “You going to see the school board yet?”

  Sam nodded slowly. He had asked them to meet him. He couldn’t not show up. “Jah, but I am not going to ask them to fire your teacher.”

  A line appeared between Wally’s eyebrows. “But you told me she’d get what was coming to her.”

  “And she will. She will.” He laid a reassuring hand on Wally’s shoulder. “I think we should give your teacher another chance. Maybe she just really likes softball.”

  More lines congregated around Wally’s mouth. “But you said you were going to get her fired. She laughed at me because I’m a cripple and told all the other kids to laugh at me.”

  Sam kept his temper. Wally was very sensitive. Because he felt things so deeply, he believed bad things had actually happened even though they were only in his head. Hadn’t the teacher said as much? “I think you were so upset about falling that you thought maybe the children laughed at you.”

  “They did,” Wally whined. “They did laugh at me.”

  Sam tightened his grip on Wally’s shoulder. “Okay. Okay. Whatever you say, but you need to give the teacher another chance.”

  “Another chance to embarrass me?” Wally’s pitch rose with every word.

  “Nae. Another chance to get to know you. You’re a fine young man.”

  Wally pressed his fists to his eyes. “I am not. I’m a cripple.”

  Only a few hours ago, Sam had said that very same thing about his bruder. Now he didn’t like that word so much. “You are not a cripple. Don’t say that about yourself.”

  Wally snapped his head up and scowled in Sam’s direction. “That’s what Teacher always says.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did she do to you?”

  “She didn’t do anything to me, but she’s right about that. You are not a cripple.”

  Wally pursed his lips and, with the crutches tucked firmly under his arms, folded his hands across his chest. “I’m not going back to school. If she makes me play softball again, I’ll die of shame.”

  Sam’s heart hurt just thinking of the burdens Wally already had to bear. He nearly gave in. What would it hurt to let Wally stay home from school? They could do his lessons here.

  Nae. Wally needed other children. He stayed home too much as it was.

  “It could be fun,” Sam said.

  “To die of shame?”

  “To play softball.”

  “I hate softball.”

  Poor Wally. He truly was miserable. The most important thing was that he didn’t dread going to school. No child should dread going to school. Sam mussed Wally’s hair. “You don’t have to play softball if you don’t want to, and you can tell the teacher I said so.”

  Wally studied Sam’s face and nodded. “I’ll tell the teacher you said I don’t ha
ve to play.”

  “Jah.”

  Wally smiled. “Okay. She thinks she’s so smart. I’m going to tell her first thing tomorrow.”

  Sam expelled a quiet, frustrated breath. He wished Wally wouldn’t look so smug. It made Sam feel like a fool. But Sam’s feelings didn’t really matter. Wally had something to look forward to. Sam had to be happy about that.

  Chapter Seven

  “Oh, dear, Elsie. Bad news!”

  Elsie sat up with a start and tried to get her bearings. She was on the sofa at Mammi and Dawdi’s house, and Sparky the dog lay on the rug at her feet. Elsie had thought to do some reading and had ambled to the sofa after a dinner of some strange concoction called couscous.

  “Bad news?”

  Mammi held a piece of paper in her fist and studied it as if it were written in code. “I invited a nice family to dinner tomorrow night. They had to cancel.”

  Elsie shook her head to clear it. Mammi had invited whom? She must have fallen asleep. It was the life of a teacher. If she sat down after school hours, she immediately fell asleep. So much energy was expended on the scholars.

  Especially this week. It had taken every bit of gumption and resolve to keep Wally Sensenig from dragging the classroom into complete chaos. He was back to putting his foot on the desk, and she was back to making him stay after school. The day after their first softball game, he had asked to use the bathroom and spent an hour in the porta-potty during math lessons, so she’d banned him from using the toilet except during recess. It seemed heartless, but she was determined to teach him that privileges came with trust, and she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

  Almost daily he and Reuben Schmucker collected money from the other children when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. Wally didn’t realize that she was always paying attention. When she saw him taking money, she would secretly repay the children and reassure them that Wally wouldn’t be bullying them much longer. That was all she could offer them. Unfortunately, the money and bullying problem would have to wait. Elsie was slowly but surely unraveling Wally’s well-ordered, comfortable life, and it couldn’t be rushed. She wanted to help him, not break him, even though he was determined to break her. What he didn’t know was that Elsie had a backbone of iron. She would not break.