She actually reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. Her touch tingled all the way up his arm. “Please don’t.”
“But he’s bullying the other children.”
“I’ve had a serious talk with the children. I told them that if Wally takes their money, they are to come to me and I will pay them back. I told them that Wally needs their help to learn something very important, and I asked them to be patient for a few more weeks and turn the other cheek with Wally and Reuben. I want Wally to understand how wicked it is to threaten someone and take their money, but he must come to it himself. We can force him to behave, but that doesn’t change who he is inside. I want to see a change of heart, and I know Wally has it in him.”
Sam found it nearly impossible to breathe. “You . . . you want to help him.”
She nodded.
“You like him in spite of everything?”
She twitched her lips wryly. “Of course I don’t like him. He puts his foot on the desk, he bullies the first graders, and he tattles to his bruder.” She tightened her fingers around his wrist that she was still inappropriately touching. “I don’t like him much, but I do love him, and I want to help him.”
“Denki,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat. “I’ve been blind, and Wally knows my weakness. You didn’t really tell him he had to be the base, did you?”
The teacher’s smile was quite the most beautiful thing he’d seen all day. “Wally likes to exaggerate, but that part is true. I wanted him to play, and I needed to give him a gute reason.”
Sam chuckled before growing serious almost immediately. “I . . . I feel paralyzed. How do I know when Wally is pretending and when he’s really upset? The first day you played softball he came home and cried and threw things. It didn’t seem like he was making it up.”
“He wasn’t making it up, and I feel bad for how upset he was. I am trying to destroy his comfortable life, and he isn’t going to give in quietly. I don’t want him to. I want him to fight his way out of this corner he’s painted himself into.”
Sam slumped his shoulders. “The corner I’ve painted him into.”
“This isn’t anybody’s fault, Sam. You can’t blame yourself.”
He shook his head. “My dat died five years ago, and a year after that Wally lost his leg and fingers in a threshing accident. I feel so sorry for the poor kid. I’ve done everything I can to make him happy, but I’ve done everything wrong.”
“Nae, you haven’t. How old were you when your dat died? Nineteen? Twenty? Barely a man yourself. You did the best you knew how. You’re still doing the best you know how. There’s no use regretting the past. Learn from it and move forward. Right now, it’s more important for Wally to be uncomfortable than to be happy.”
“But what can I do? I’m not strong enough to withstand Wally’s tears, but I can’t stand by knowing that he’s bullying other children or getting away with being lazy and selfish.”
“I don’t want Wally to hate you. You are his big bruder. He depends on your strength and understanding.”
“But I’ve been doing it wrong for four years. I’m a failure.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”
He cracked a smile. “You used that same voice when you told me to stop calling Wally a cripple.”
Miss Stutzman’s lips curled upward. “It’s my teacher voice. The children know I mean business with the teacher voice.” She fingered one of her bonnet strings. “Give Wally a chore or two, and that’s all. Don’t preach to him and don’t let on that you know about anything that goes on at school. That is the plan for now.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “I can do that.”
The teacher stood up. “I’m giving you fair warning. I will have Wally playing softball tomorrow and every day until it gets too cold. It’s going to save him.”
Sam nodded. He didn’t like the thought of Wally in pain, but this was for his own good. Sam would do well to remember that. He reached out and snatched the teacher’s hand before she walked away. “Denki, Miss Stutzman.”
Her smile made him forget his own name. “You’re welcome. And call me Elsie. I feel like an old woman when someone your age calls me Miss Stutzman.”
Miss Stutzman was definitely not an old woman. A girl as pretty as she should not be allowed to teach school. Like as not, all the little boys were in love with her. How would they concentrate on their lessons?
Dear Sam,
I have to apologize for my granddaughter’s bad behavior. I couldn’t talk her into wearing her pink dress to the singing. I hope you didn’t spend all night searching for her. Please do not be upset. I am determined to get you two together one way or another. I am planning a secret picnic in which we will invite my granddaughter and a dozen families. You will be able to meet her there, but remember it’s a secret. What day next week would be good for you?
Anna Helmuth
P.S. Here is a scarf and a pot holder for the cold months ahead. Well, the scarf is for the cold months ahead. The pot holder is for cold and warm months.
Chapter Nine
Elsie cupped her hands protectively around Maizy’s tiny shoulders as they both faced the class. “Scholars, we have a new student here at Mapleview School. Her name is Maizy Mischler, and she is a first grader.”
Jethro Glick raised his hand. “Miss Stutzman, Maizy isn’t new. Her family is in our district.”
“That is true, Jethro, but some of the children don’t know her because they live in the other district. Maizy’s parents have agreed to let her come to school, but they want to be sure that everyone treats Maizy kindly. I told Maizy’s mamm that this is the nicest group of children they would ever meet and that we would take very gute care of her.”
Maizy couldn’t have weighed more than forty pounds, and she looked like she barely cleared three feet. She had a button nose and bright, expressive eyes that seemed to take in everything around her as if she were trying to memorize it. Her mamm had fashioned her hair into a bob and tied a bright green scarf around her hair.
It had taken three visits to the Mischlers before they would even consider sending Maizy to school. Maizy was their oldest, and she had Down syndrome. The Amish called her a “special” child, and Maizy’s parents couldn’t see any reason to send her to school. She couldn’t string more than two words together, and she wasn’t going to be able to learn much. But Elsie felt strongly that every child should have the benefit of an education, whether their capacity was great or limited. She’d finally talked Maizy’s parents into at least letting her come to school for a week. It would be gute for Maizy and especially gute for the other children.
Elsie took Maizy’s hand and led her to a first grader desk. “Will you all be good helpers with Maizy?”
“Yes, Miss Stutzman,” some of the children said.
Elsie watched Wally out of the corner of her eye. He seemed mostly uninterested in the new student. He had a mean streak, but she didn’t think he’d pick on Maizy. He wasn’t that mean, and Maizy probably wasn’t worth the trouble.
Wally had limped into school this morning on his crutches, which shouldn’t have disappointed Elsie, but it did. Sam said he’d tried the prosthetic leg for the first time on Friday. This was only Monday. The leg idea was going to have to marinate in Wally’s brain for a while. She didn’t know how bad his leg hurt from falling on Friday, but if the bruises were as bad as Sam said they were, Wally probably couldn’t bear to put any weight on the prosthetic leg. Elsie would swallow her disappointment and be patient.
Like Sam had said, it had taken Wally four years to get into this state. It would take some time to pull out of it.
She bit her bottom lip. It felt like a wall of warm water washed over her whenever she thought of Sam Sensenig. This was a great improvement over nausea. He had actually been civil to her last night, and surprisingly humble for someone she didn’t think had a meek bone in his body. She really liked his smile and his light brown, curly hair. She imagined
her fingers getting stuck in it. What would that feel like?
The scholars were staring at her as if they expected something . . . maybe a lesson? She felt her face get hot as she cleared her throat and went back to her desk. The children couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking. No need to be embarrassed.
Morning lessons went as usual. After lunch, she organized their recess softball game. Reuben Schmucker was always picked first, but Wally kept going down farther in the order. He couldn’t hit, and he couldn’t run. The team captains had started to see him as a liability. Wally sat on the schoolhouse steps apart from the other children, moping like a hound dog, until Jethro Glick finally picked Wally on his team. Wally scowled. “I’m not playing.”
It seemed that today was the day he was going to test Elsie’s resolve. “You know the rule,” Elsie said. “If you don’t play, you have to be a base.”
Wally narrowed his eyes and slowly rolled his pant leg up over his knee. Some of the little kids gasped. Sam hadn’t been exaggerating. Wally had a fine cut right at the knee and an impressive bruise that went partway up his thigh. “I got this playing softball on Friday.”
“Oy, anyhow,” Toby said under his breath.
“I’m not playing today, and you can’t make me.”
“Nice,” Elsie said, nodding her approval. “It looks like you were playing hard. Makes you look tough.”
Wally might not have even been aware he was doing it, but he sat up straighter and pulled his shoulders back—probably realizing that he was pretty tough. But he’d drawn his line in the sand. Elsie wasn’t going to get him to play today.
Maybe it was a gute thing. Wally would soon figure out that it was no fun playing a base.
“Okay, Wally,” Elsie said. “You will play first base.” Everybody knew that she meant he had to be the base, not the baseman.
Wally gave her a toothy, nasty smile and hobbled to where first base should have been. He was probably looking forward to being the base. He liked to think he was a victim, the one everybody picked on. Maybe he hoped it was one more thing he could go home and tell Sam about. Elsie didn’t mind the thought of that so much. She didn’t think Sam would come storming into her classroom anytime soon. But if he did, Elsie wouldn’t mind seeing Wally’s handsome bruder again.
Wally sat in the dirt and set his crutches right in front of him where runners would be most likely to trip on them. Maybe he wouldn’t be so smug on a wet day.
Elsie and the rest of the children did their best to ignore their very surly first base. The children tried not to step on him, but he would frequently stick out his hand when someone ran by him to try to trip them up. The children were good-natured about it, even as Wally got grumpier and grumpier. It truly was no fun being a base.
When it was Maizy Mischler’s turn to hit, Ida Mae stood behind her and cupped her hands around Maizy’s as she gripped the bat. Elsie pitched a slow and easy one over the plate and Maizy—or actually Ida Mae—hit a little blooper toward third.
“Run, Maizy, run,” Ida Mae yelled. Maizy turned around in a circle unsure of where to go.
“Over here,” Wally yelled, waving his arms over his head. “Come to me.”
Stunned by Wally’s sudden show of—what? kindness? humanity?—Elsie stood motionless as every child squealed for Maizy to run to Wally. Even Martha Raber, the third baseman, ignored the ball and yelled for Maizy to run.
Maizy smiled and pumped her little legs in the direction of Wally’s outstretched arms. Maizy was by no means nimble on her feet. Elsie caught her breath as Maizy snagged her foot on a rock jutting up from the ground and fell with a thud into the dirt.
Elsie, Ida Mae, and some of the older kids ran to Maizy’s side, but Wally, really fast on those crutches when he had to be, beat them all. Three pairs of arms reached out to help Maizy up at once.
“Maizy, are you okay?” Elsie said, brushing the dust from Maizy’s dress.
“Did you hurt yourself ?” Wally asked.
Maizy’s breathing came in stops and starts as if she was going to cry at any minute but was somehow able to hold it in. She pressed her fists to her eyes and rubbed away any tears that might have tried to escape. Her eyes were red-rimmed and watery, but not a tear fell.
“Do you want to go sit down on the steps?” Elsie said, feeling very guilty that Maizy had gotten hurt on her first day of school.
Maizy shook her head. “Play.”
Elsie pressed her lips together. “Okay. You are on first base.”
Wally frowned. “Miss Stutzman, she fell. She shouldn’t play anymore.”
Maizy shook her head more adamantly. “Play. I play.”
Elsie glanced at Wally. “She wants to play.”
Wally didn’t argue, but he didn’t look too happy about it either. He hobbled back to his place on his crutches and sat down. “Cum, Maizy,” he said.
Maizy sat next to him in the dirt.
“Nae,” Wally said. “You have to run to second when somebody hits.”
Maizy understood him. She smiled, stood up, and turned her face toward second. Martha threw Elsie the ball, and Elsie called for the next batter up. To her left, she could hear Maizy sniffling. She pitched a ball, and the catcher threw it back to her. The sniffling got harder. Elsie glanced at first base. Maizy was standing steadfastly next to Wally with tears streaming down her face.
Wally laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Maizy nodded, knelt down on one knee, and laid a hand on Wally’s bad leg. “Ouch,” she said.
Wally blinked rapidly and nodded. “Ouch.”
Maizy placed a little hand on either side of Wally’s face. Wally froze like a pond on New Year’s Day. “Ouch,” Maizy said. “Ouch.” She patted Wally’s cheeks three times and kissed him on the forehead.
When she pulled back, Wally awkwardly patted her shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Elsie couldn’t see to pitch. She pretended she had something in her eye and dabbed at the tears before any of her students suspected. It was no good for the teacher to cry. Ever.
Maizy made it all the way to home before the inning was over. Her grin got wider with every base she got to. At third base, she took Martha Raber’s hand. “Help,” was all she said. The next batter hit the ball into the outfield, and Martha, the third baseman, walked Maizy home.
Wally sat on first base with his chin propped in his hand and watched the other children hit. Elsie had a feeling that no matter how bad his leg hurt tomorrow, he’d be playing softball. Being the victim wasn’t all that fun.
When it was Maizy’s turn to hit again, she eagerly picked up the bat and held it out for Ida Mae to help her. She hit the ball again, this time right at Elsie. All the children yelled for Maizy to run. She grimaced and took off toward Wally. Her steps got slower and slower the closer she got, and it was obvious something was wrong. Since Elsie didn’t move, Tobias, the catcher, ran onto the field and picked up the ball. Seeing that Maizy was in trouble, Wally grabbed his crutches, jumped from the ground, and ran toward Maizy. Tobias threw the ball in the direction of first base, but first base wasn’t there anymore. Wally reached out for Maizy’s hand and plopped himself on the ground between home and first. “She’s safe,” he called.
The children on Maizy’s team screamed as if they had just won the World Series. Ida Mae and Linda Sue hugged each other. Johnny Wengerd and Toby Byler stomped their feet and kicked up a cloud of dust.
“Teacher!” Wally yelled, pulling Maizy onto his lap as if snatching her from the edge of a cliff. “She’s bleeding all down her leg.”
Elsie dropped her mitt and ball a second time and ran to first base—which was Wally. Wally pulled Maizy’s stocking down to her ankle. There was a cut on her shin oozing blood.
Wally furrowed his brow. “You’re a brave little girl.”
“Okay, then,” Elsie said, making her voice loud enough so all the children could hear. “Ten more minutes of recess. I’ll take Maizy in and take care of her leg.”
Ida Mae was never far away when someone needed help. “Is she okay?”
Elsie nodded. “She’ll be okay.” She bent down and lifted Maizy into her arms. “Let’s go get this cleaned up, Maizy girl.”
Wally pulled himself up. “Can I come?”
“Jah, Wally. Denki. I wouldn’t have known if it hadn’t been for you.”
Wally lowered his head as if she’d awarded him Scholar of the Year. “You’re welcome.”
They took Maizy into the school, and Wally sat next to Maizy while Elsie washed out her cut and put three Band-Aids on it. Maizy didn’t make a peep, and even Wally seemed impressed with her bravery. Once her leg was bandaged up, Maizy wanted to go outside for the last part of recess. Elsie told her she could.
Leaving his crutches propped against a desk, Wally helped her down the stairs by holding the railing in one hand and Maizy’s arm in the other. He hopped. She limped. Elsie’s heart swelled as big as the sky. Wally hadn’t seemed to have a second thought that he wasn’t capable of helping Maizy. If he forgot himself more often, Elsie would soon have nothing to worry about.
Wally came hopping back up the stairs, retrieved his crutches, and hobbled to Elsie’s desk. “Miss Stutzman, there’s a problem between home plate and first base. That’s why I think Maizy tripped.” He bowed his head. “And why I tripped too.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Wally.”
He glanced up at Elsie as the corners of his mouth sagged. “I’m not ashamed about tripping. I ashamed for making such a fuss. Maizy didn’t barely make a sound, and she was bleeding.”
Elsie nodded. “I see.”
“But I’m not talking about that. There is a big rock buried under the softball diamond, and it sticks up right between the bases. It’s easy to trip on, and it needs to come out.”
Elsie sat on her desk and folded her arms. “Do you want to try to dig it out?”
“I think I could get Reuben and maybe Jethro and Tobias to help me.”
Elsie tried to keep her face expressionless, even though she thought she might burst into tears. “That’s very kind of you to think of it.”
A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill Page 9
