“I don’t just mean the song. It was great. But I mean your voice. I always knew it was beautiful. I just never knew it was that beautiful.”
Katrina couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Bekka.”
“Your voice is so good that I know you could win a million dollars on American Star.”
Katrina laughed. “I know you mean that as a compliment, but it will never happen, Bekka. Not in a million years.”
“Maybe you should watch American Star with me,” Bekka told her. “You might see what I’m talking about.”
“Right now I just want to go through Mammi’s things,” Katrina told her. “And I know you need to work on those orders for your business.”
Bekka nodded. “You’re right.”
“Will I bother you if I stay here and go through this stuff?”
“Not if you sing while you’re doing it.”
So, as Katrina sorted through the papers, some of which seemed to be words to songs and others of which seemed to be letters from record people, she sang what songs and words she could remember, often making up the missing words—and sometimes making both of them break up into laughter.
“What is going on in here?” Peter demanded as he opened the door and both he and Cooper suddenly burst into the tiny office.
“Go on,” Bekka told him. “It’s too crowded in here already.”
“But I heard laughing,” Peter told her.
“Ja, ja,” Bekka said. “Is there a rule against laughing while you work?”
“Are you working?” Peter asked.
“Look.” Bekka pointed to her computer. “You can see that I am.” She now pointed to Katrina. “And she is helping me.”
Katrina had covered up her things with a box of loose papers and was now looking up at the guys with the most innocent face she could muster under the circumstances.
“Mamm said to tell you supper is nearly ready,” Peter told Bekka.
“That means I’d better go home too,” Katrina said.
“Me too,” Cooper said cheerfully.
“Isn’t that handy?” Bekka said with a teasing glint in her eye. “You can just leave those papers,” she said to Katrina. “I’ll put the rest of them away.”
Katrina could tell by her tone that she meant Mammi’s things. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she stood.
“Tomorrow?” Bekka looked confused.
“Katrina is coming to the group singing,” Cooper said.
Bekka’s eyes lit up. “It’s about time they let you come back. I’m sure your mammi would agree it’s been way too long.”
Katrina just nodded. She wasn’t entirely sure what Mammi would say or think of any of this. She reassured herself with the thought that Starla Knight would understand. Surely she would.
4
As Cooper walked with Katrina down the road, he started to hum one of the lighthearted tunes they had sung at the group singing. It was just a silly little song about a frog and a horse, but she could tell he wanted her to sing along. “Come on,” he said finally. “Can’t you just join in on the chorus?”
“Someone might hear us,” she warned him.
“Out here?” He waved his hand to the fields all around them.
“Sounds carry.”
“I don’t understand you, Katrina. You have such a pretty singing voice, and I don’t know anyone who is more worried about it than you are.”
She considered telling him about the times she’d been chastised over her singing but decided not to.
“My grandmother told me something,” he said in a slightly mysterious tone. “Something about your grandmother.”
“What?” She stopped walking and turned to look at him.
“It seems that your grandmother was good friends with my grandmother’s younger sister.”
“What?”
“My grandmother said her younger sister—Great-Aunt Martha—was the one who first took your grandmother in.”
“Truly?”
He nodded, pleased to have her full attention now. “My grandmother’s family lived in a different settlement. And although my grandmother was already married and living over here when Great-Aunt Martha took your grandmother in, my grandmother knew about it. She met your grandmother back then.”
“What else did she tell you?”
He shrugged.
“Come on, Cooper. Please tell me.”
“I would tell you if I knew. Truth is, that’s all I know.”
She frowned.
“But my grandmother said that if you want to come visit and talk to her, she’ll be happy to tell you whatever she knows.”
“Do you think she really knows anything . . . I mean, anything that interesting?”
“She might.”
Katrina thought about Aunt Alma. She’d been to visit her only once since the funeral. She could tell Aunt Alma was sad, but it had seemed to cheer her up to talk about Mammi. “Do you think I could bring my Aunt Alma to visit your grandmother?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“All right then.” She nodded in agreement. “Tell your mammi that if she doesn’t mind, I’ll bring my aunt to visit her—the first chance I get.”
Cooper grinned. “Great. I’ll tell her.”
She nodded toward her house. “Here we are. Thanks for walking me home.”
“Anytime.” He paused. “I know my grandmother will be home tomorrow. Just in case you and your aunt can make it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She waved and hurried up to her house. But when she peeked in the kitchen window, she could see that Mamm and Sadie hadn’t even set the table yet. She decided to pop over to ask Aunt Alma about visiting Cooper’s grandmother. She listened to her radio as she walked the fence line, and when she got there, seeing the front door was open, she went on inside just like she’d always done when Mammi was alive. She was barely in the front room when she heard the sounds of loud voices in the kitchen—arguing! Realizing she should’ve knocked, she was about to make a quick exit when she saw Daadi in his chair. She froze in place, then realized he was fast asleep and snoring.
“You can’t let him keep taking advantage of you like that,” Aunt Fannie was saying loudly. “He doesn’t lift a finger for this farm, and yet you treat him like a full partner.”
“Quiet,” Uncle Willis said. “Daed and Alma will hear you.”
“I don’t care who hears me,” Aunt Fannie said. “Frost is going to drain you dry, Willis. And it’s not fair.”
“But his boys are working and—”
“And you can pay them a fair wage for their labor,” she continued. “But that’s all you owe that family. It’s wrong for you to take from our family to help someone who’s not working. The Bible says if you don’t work, you don’t eat. Frost doesn’t work, and he doesn’t deserve to—”
“Frost has health problems, Fannie. You know that.”
“Yes, I know that he’s been saying that for years. But if he wants to, he goes out and builds something in his shop. He built his mother’s casket, didn’t he? And now that Mamm’s not around to protect her only boy, I say it’s time to do some pruning on this farm before we all—”
“Hello, Alma,” Uncle Willis interrupted.
“Is something wrong?” Aunt Alma’s voice sounded small and worried.
“No,” Uncle Willis said.
“Supper is nearly ready,” Aunt Alma quickly told them. “I just ran out to pick some chives for the potatoes, and then I saw some—”
“Just let us know when it’s ready,” Aunt Fannie said loudly. “We’ll be in the front room with Daed.”
Katrina knew it was time to escape. She glanced quickly at Daadi, relieved to see he still seemed to be sound asleep, and quietly slipped out the front door and hurried around to the back door, finding Aunt Alma in the kitchen.
“Oh, Katrina.” Aunt Alma smiled. “It’s good to see you. You want to stay for supper? I can put on another—”
“No,” Katrina sa
id quietly. “I just came to invite you to do something with me tomorrow.” She quickly explained about Cooper’s grandmother. “Mrs. Miller will tell us what she knows about Mammi.”
Aunt Alma’s eyes lit up. “She will?”
“Can you come?”
“Ja, sure. Why not? I am a grown woman. I can go visit an elderly friend if I like, can I not?”
Katrina smiled. “I sure hope so.”
“Ja, well, I better get supper on the table. You run along now, Katrina. Come by around ten tomorrow morning and we’ll go visiting.”
As Katrina hurried back home, she felt like she had a rock in the pit of her stomach. Aunt Fannie’s words had been so cold, so harsh. How could she say such things about Katrina’s daed, especially when he was in such pain all the time? What kind of unfeeling woman was she? What about practicing good Christian charity and love like they were taught to do? How could Uncle Willis put up with such animosity? And how was she going to tell her parents about this? Certainly they deserved to know.
As she went into her own house, where Sadie was setting the table and Mamm was removing a ham from the oven, Katrina decided it might be best to wait until after supper to tell her parents about what she’d heard. No sense in ruining a good meal. She knew it would crush her father. He hated being seen as weak or incapacitated and always tried so hard to keep up a strong front. When asked about his health, he’d always say he was “just fine” or “getting better every day.”
But his family knew better. In fact, he was in so much pain tonight that he wasn’t even able to come to the table. Katrina tried not to look at his empty chair as they sat down. She bowed her head with the others, silently praying as usual, but after she thanked God for his provision, she also asked God to help Daed get well. It was a familiar prayer, but tonight she prayed it with fervency.
When it was time to eat, she still felt worried for Daed as well as about the troubles brewing on the family farm. As a result, she didn’t feel very hungry and only picked at her food.
“Are you all right?” Mamm finally asked her. “Feeling well?”
“I’m fine,” she lied. Just like Daed.
“How are the Lehmans?” Mamm asked. “Did they sell a lot of candles and soap this week?”
Katrina filled them in on the happenings with Bekka’s family, answering a few more questions. Then the table got quiet again, and Katrina felt as if she couldn’t stop herself from asking the question that was ready to leap from the tip of her tongue. “Is Daed ever going to get better?” she blurted.
“Oh, ja, ja,” Mamm assured her. “He gets better all the time. He was just tired, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”
Cal and Drew kept their eyes on their plates, and even Sadie looked perplexed by Mamm’s casual reply. How could their family go on pretending that everything was perfectly fine? How could she?
“Truly, Mamm?” Katrina looked into her mother’s gray eyes. “You honestly believe Daed is getting better?”
“I believe God will make him well.” Mamm reached for the butter.
“But what if you’re wrong?” Katrina demanded. “God doesn’t heal everyone. What if Daed never gets better? And what if Uncle Willis decides that Daed is not able to partner with him on the farm anymore?”
“Oh, Katrina.” Mamm shook her head. “Why do you go looking for trouble where there is none? The farm is your daadi’s. He wouldn’t let that happen. He loves your daed.”
“Daadi is much older than Mammi . . . and she died. What if Daadi passes on too?” Katrina persisted. “Uncle Willis is the older brother. What if he decides to take over the farm for himself?”
Mamm shrugged. “Then the Good Lord will take care of us.”
Katrina looked at her brothers. “What about Cal and Drew? What would they do if our family no longer had the farm?”
“Get jobs?” Mamm reached for the peas. “But don’t worry. That is not going to happen. Daed is going to be better soon.”
“It’s been three years,” Cal pointed out.
“And he’s worse now than he was a year ago,” Drew said solemnly.
“Oh, he’s just worn out.” Mamm lowered her voice. “And maybe he’s grieving for his mamm too.”
“But how would we live if we didn’t have the farm?” Katrina asked.
“Maybe we’d learn to make soap and candles like the Lehmans.” Mamm frowned at Katrina. “Now, that is enough talk about such things. Let us trust God and eat our supper in peace.”
Although her brothers exercised more self-control than Katrina, she suspected they were just as concerned about this farm business as she was. She wondered how much they knew. Perhaps they had overheard Aunt Fannie talking like that before. Or maybe Uncle Willis’s son Thomas had said something—especially since everyone knew that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the Fannie tree.
Was it possible that her brothers were already making plans for another way to make a living? She knew that young men sometimes had to leave the settlement to find jobs. But her brothers had grown up working the farm. Agriculture was all they knew. Did this mean they would be forced to go out and work someone else’s farm? And if so, what would become of her family?
It all seemed so unfair and unjust. What right did Aunt Fannie have to make such demands on a family she’d married into? And why did Uncle Willis even listen to her? Wasn’t he the head of the household? And what would happen if Daadi passed away? The thought of him sleeping in his chair like that earlier, so completely oblivious to the conversation going on in his own home, was unsettling. How much worse would it be if he were really gone? And what about sweet Aunt Alma? Aunt Fannie probably only put up with her because of Daadi—although Katrina felt certain Aunt Fannie would miss all the work that Aunt Alma did around the house.
Katrina was tempted to go and tell her daed about all these things, but she knew it would only make him feel worse. It was hard enough for him to be laid up and in pain, but to learn that his injury could become his family’s ruin . . . that would be too much to bear.
Thankful for her little radio, Katrina went out to do her evening chores of tending to the chickens and milking the cow, and it wasn’t long until the tunes distracted her from her earlier concerns.
The next morning, Katrina worked quickly to complete her morning chores. She’d already asked Mamm if she could take Aunt Alma visiting. “I think she’s lonely,” Katrina explained.
“Ja, I’m sure Alma misses her mamm.” She put her hand on Katrina’s cheek. “You are a good girl to do that with her.”
Of course, Katrina didn’t feel like she was a very good girl as she listened to the radio on her way to get Aunt Alma, but her aunt was so pleased to see her that Katrina decided that she was actually doing a good deed. As they walked down a section of road with no houses, she even slipped the radio from her sleeve and showed her aunt how it worked.
“So that’s what it was.” Aunt Alma handed the earplug back to Katrina. “I wondered.”
“I listen to the same radio station that Mammi listened to. They play songs called golden oldies, and I even heard Willow Tree a few times.”
“From the record in the box?”
“Ja, but they don’t play very many of their songs. I’d still like to hear that record.”
“Ja, so would I.”
“I listen to the radio whenever I can,” Katrina admitted. “Doing chores or walking . . . even in bed after Sadie is asleep. Do you think that’s wrong?”
Aunt Alma sighed. “I do not know. Maybe that is between you and God.”
“I sing along with the songs sometimes.” Katrina continued her confession. “I’ve even learned whole songs.”
“What kind of songs?” Aunt Alma gave her a curious look.
“Do you want me to sing one?” Katrina could see the next house was still a fair distance away.
“Ja, please do.”
So, once again, Katrina sang “Puff, the Magic Dragon,” and when she finished, just before a horse-d
rawn buggy passed by, heading toward town, Aunt Alma was blinking back tears.
“That was beautiful, Katrina. Thank you.”
“My favorite songs are the ones that tell stories,” Katrina confided. “I don’t like the songs that don’t make any sense. Well, except that I like their tunes sometimes. I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Aunt Alma, but I just love music and singing. And I know it’s wrong.”
Aunt Alma didn’t respond.
“I know Daed would be unhappy if he knew. So would Mamm. Maybe I should stop listening to the radio.”
“I don’t know the answer to that,” Aunt Alma told her. “But I do know there are families who are not as opposed to music as our family.”
“Why is our family opposed to music?” Katrina asked.
“I’m not sure. We know your mammi loved music.”
“Yet you said she hardly ever sang.”
Aunt Alma nodded. “That is true.”
“Do you think it was because her voice was so beautiful?”
“Like yours.”
“And she knew that it was selfish vainglory to sing with such a beautiful voice?”
Aunt Alma stopped walking and looked at Katrina with a creased brow. “I am sorry, but I do not know the answer. I do not understand why something so beautiful—something God has given you—how it can be wrong.” She rubbed her forehead. “It makes my head hurt to think about it.”
Katrina laughed. “I know. I feel just the same way.”
Aunt Alma reached for her hand, holding it as they walked. “You and me—we are alike in some ways.”
Now they were at the Millers’. Even if Katrina had been blindfolded, the smell of the dairy farm would have given it away. This farm had been in the Miller family for generations, but because Cooper was the youngest son, it was unlikely that he would inherit anything more than a job from it. She knew that Cooper loved woodworking, though. He’d told her that his dream was to become a cabinetmaker and that his Uncle Earl was considering taking him on as an apprentice. Unfortunately, his uncle lived in a settlement about thirty miles away. Katrina didn’t like to imagine what she would do if Cooper went to live with his uncle. As sad as she would be to see him go, she didn’t know if she could be happy living so far away from her own family. It would take most of the day just to make the trip there and back. No, that was something she didn’t care to think about.
A Simple Song Page 4
