by Gail Sattler
His heart swelled. She was still wearing it.
All he had to do was to keep raising the bar.
26
Anna looked out the kitchen window and shook her head.
Chad would never be a farmer. Saturday morning, Chad was outside, walking around the yard pulling weeds from the most disorganized mixture of flowers and vegetables she’d ever seen—only Chad could call it a garden. As he did his weeding, his chickens followed him. Every time he stopped to pull a weed, they would stop to see if any worms came up with it. And when Chad started walking again, they would start walking as well. Every once in a while, he’d stop, pick one up, give it a hug and ruffle its feathers, and put it back down. Then he’d do the same to the other chicken. If he followed his pattern, after one round through the yard he would go around to the side of the house and into the garage, the chickens would follow him, and he’d stop where he parked his bicycle. He would place one chicken in the basket and the other on the handlebars. He would then hit a switch to operate a small electric motor mounted at the top of the garage, which moved a chain to pull the garage door open. Why he needed a motor to open the garage, she would never know, but Chad did many odd things. Then he would be gone.
Rebecca hadn’t been the only person to phone Anna to ask, in complete amazement, where Chad was going with his chickens, and she still didn’t know. When she’d asked, he’d replied he was “just taking them for a ride,” as if it made sense to do so.
Only to Chad.
Today, before he disappeared into the garage to take his chickens for a ride, Anna went into her yard, through the gate joining their two yards, and approached him.
He bent down to pick up Blinkie, gave Blinkie’s feathers a few gentle strokes in the right direction, and then grinned at Anna. “Hey. Fancy meeting you here. I was just about to take them for a ride. Want to join us?”
She looked down at Waddles still on the ground, a little embarrassed that she could tell his chickens apart. “Only if you do not ask me to put a chicken on my bicycle. I would never be able to live with my friends if anyone saw me do such a thing.” Yet, even as she spoke, she couldn’t help admiring him. Not only was Chad making the best of caring for farm animals when he didn’t know what he was doing, he was happy doing it. Like everything else, whatever he chose to do, he did with confidence and without apology.
“Sure. They’re actually pretty comfortable doing it this way.” He put his hand over Blinkie’s head, as if to cover Blinkie’s ears, and lowered his voice. “I don’t think they’re very smart. Once I get them used to doing something, I can’t change it or they get confused. Once they learn something, they don’t seem able to change. I also have to keep it pretty simple, or there’s a high margin for error.”
She looked first at Blinkie and then down at Waddles. “Actually, everyone is very amazed at what you are doing with them. I have told many people that when you tell them to get into their coop, most of the time, they do. I have not told them you also tell them to go into the house. They are getting big now. They do not belong in the house. They will make your house dirty.”
Chad shook his head. “Nope. I bought them chicken diapers on eBay. It took a while for them to get used to it, but they’re fine.”
Anna froze, and she felt her mouth drop open. “Excuse me? What did you say? What did you buy for them?”
“Chicken diapers. They look a little strange, but they work, and that’s what’s important. Do you want to come with me for a short ride? If you do, I’m not going to go as fast as we usually go. I don’t want Blinkie to fall off.”
She wanted to ask why he didn’t just put both chickens in the basket, but having any chickens in the basket was strange. “The basket was supposed to be for groceries, not your chickens.”
He shook his head. “When I buy groceries, I take my car.”
Anna went home to change into her jeans and get her bicycle and helmet. By the time she made it to the front, Chad and his chickens were ready and waiting.
As they rode through the town, nearly everyone they passed stopped and waved. If she wasn’t mistaken, more people were outside than usual, almost like they expected him and were waiting for him to ride past. Yet a few people, when they saw him coming, turned and scurried into their homes.
Not one to disappoint, Chad waved at everyone who looked at him. Once, when he had slowed almost to a stop to say hello to Kathy Friesen from the factory, Blinkie stretched and extended her wings and clucked, almost like she was showing off.
Anna looked at Blinkie, surprised at herself that she’d begun to think of Blinkie as a hen. As the chickens were nearing five months old, soon they would be able to tell if Chad had two hens, two roosters, or one of each. From Waddles’s docile nature, Anna thought Waddles was probably a hen, but at this age, no one could be sure until they saw an egg. Blinkie was not as passive, making her almost sad that Blinkie might be a rooster—even though it was still possible that being a Rhode Island Red, Blinkie was simply more active and following the nature of the breed.
“Why are you looking at my chickens like that? Is something wrong?”
“No, they are fine. I was thinking that they are looking very good and very plump.”
Chad’s face paled. “Don’t say they’re plump. Don’t say anything like that. They’re going to lay eggs until they’re old and gray.”
“I do not think chickens go gray.” Although, she really didn’t know for sure. She’d never seen an old chicken. On the farms, and likewise in their backyard coops, no one let the chickens get old because then their meat would not be tender.
“I plan to find out if chickens go gray.” He paused and knotted his brows. “Chickens don’t go bald or anything when they get old, I hope. Anyway, let’s turn around and go back now.”
She turned and followed him home, and when he neared his house, he sped up. Both chickens leaned down and nosed into the wind, if a chicken could do such a thing. When he came to a stop, he put both on the ground. They shook out their feathers and strutted happily in circles, then followed Chad as he went into the garage with his bicycle.
After he parked his bicycle, he turned to her. “It’s almost lunch time. How about I put Blinkie and Waddles into their coop and you and I go for a ride to the soda shop? I’d like to buy you a burger for lunch, but mostly, I’m in the mood for a milk shake. They make them with real milk and real ice cream there.”
Anna crinkled her brows. “I do not understand. What else would you use to make a milk shake?”
Chad closed his eyes and shuddered. “You don’t want to know. All the fast-food places—the ones you’ve never been to—don’t use a drop of milk in their shakes. That’s why they don’t say ‘milk shake’ on the menu, just ‘shake.’ It’s all whipped oil with lots of sugar and flavoring. There isn’t a drop of milk in them.”
“I think that sounds disgusting.”
“They taste pretty good, until you stop and think of how they’re made. It’s why the shakes at the soda shop are so great. They make shakes the old-fashioned way, with real food product ingredients. I hear they use real fruit, too.”
“Of course they do. But are you sure you want to go there? Mostly that is where the young people go. Young people who are fond of each other and use the soda shop as a public place to meet, where no one pays attention to anyone else.”
He pressed his palms over his chest. “I’m just feeling young at heart right now.” He walked closer to Anna and picked up her hands, keeping them firmly grasped in his own. “Please?”
She gulped. “I think my papa would not approve.”
“You can’t get much more of a public spot on a Saturday morning. There’s nothing to disapprove of. But if you really don’t feel right, then we can do something else.”
Anna turned to look at her house, to her living room window, where she knew her papa would be—sitting on the couch reading.
Chad was correct in saying they would be doing nothing wrong, and they would be
in the middle of a crowd. The soda shop was a very busy place on a hot Saturday. In fact, as the temperature continued to climb, being a hot July day, the thought of a smooth, cool milk shake sounded better and better. “Ja, it does sound like a good idea. I will tell my mama we are going, and I will be right back.”
To purposely avoid her papa, Anna went around the house through the back door so she could talk to her mama in the kitchen and avoid contact with her papa in the living room.
Part of her felt wrong in doing this—it felt like she was sneaking around her papa in order to see Chad. But she was no longer a child—she was twenty-five years old and able to make her own decisions. She knew the reason her papa didn’t want her spending too much time with Chad. As he was supposed to do, Chad had confessed his biggest sins to God in front of the congregation in his testimony, and now, everyone knew. Mr. Rempel was a very wise man. He had been correct in pointing out to all who suddenly became very judgmental of Chad that Chad had been very brave; he’d known he faced the risk of rejection for confessing such things.
While Anna had known that many in the congregation would look down at Chad for his sins, what was the most disappointing was her father’s reaction. Papa had always been strict, and Anna had not been surprised at his reaction to Chad, but she’d been disappointed nonetheless. Like Mr. Rempel, she’d thought Chad had been very brave to confess his sins in church.
“Mutta, I am going to the soda shop with Chad. He would like to buy us milk shakes.”
Not unexpectedly, her mama glanced toward the entrance to the living room, where her papa now sat in his favorite chair, reading. “You may go, but do not be too long, and if there are not many people there, you must come home.”
Anna bit her lower lip to keep silent. In other words, if she didn’t have lots of witnesses, she was to come home.
Rather than express her disagreement or show her disappointment in her mama’s words, Anna turned without comment and returned to Chad’s driveway. As soon as he saw her, he smiled, but his smile faded when she didn’t smile back.
“What’s wrong?”
Anna forced herself to smile. She knew he already struggled with the negative reactions and judgmental attitudes of many of the other people in their church after his testimony. She would not risk ruining this day by adding her parents to the list. “Nothing is wrong. I am thinking that instead of a milk shake, I would like a root beer float today. Would you like to race me there?”
For the first time in a long, long time, Chad laughed. “You’re on. I think the loser should pay, because that’s going to be you.”
“Then this is a race.” She scrambled onto the bike and took off before Chad yelled go. She knew she would not win, regardless of her head start, but she would have fun racing with him. Before riding with Chad, she had never raced on her bicycle. Only boys raced, yet Chad didn’t seem to notice this.
As expected, Chad beat her. He also made her pay.
Since it was before lunch, there was only one other couple there who were already married, but Anna didn’t care. Actually, it was better. This way, no prying eyes watched, and no curious ears listened to their conversation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.
When they were finished, instead of going home, Chad ordered two burgers with fries, and they returned to the table.
“What are you doing? This is strange.”
“We’re adults. We can eat dessert first.”
“But I am not so hungry now.”
He grinned. “That’s okay. Whatever you leave, I’ll eat.”
Anna chose not to remind him that this was the reason he recently had to buy pants in a larger size.
They took far longer than usual to eat their meal. For their ride home, since their stomachs were full, they didn’t fool around or try to ride fast. In fact, Anna had the feeling that Chad was riding even slower so he could make the trip last for a longer period of time.
As they neared his house, the squawking and squalling of one of his chickens disturbed the quiet of the hot summer day.
Chad’s face tightened. “Something is wrong. They never make so much noise.”
He tensed, lowered his head, and sped the rest of the way home. Anna did the same and somehow managed to not be too far behind him.
She ran into the yard behind Chad to see one of his chickens strutting in circles and bobbing its head, clucking and being very noisy.
He ran to the coop and pulled the door open and stepped inside. “Blinkie? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Anna ran behind him and grasped his arm. “Chad, wait. Nothing is wrong. This is very right. I think if you look in the nest boxes, you will find an egg. This is what chickens do when they lay an egg. This means that Blinkie is a hen, and you will have a good breakfast tomorrow.”
He froze. “Really?”
“Ja. Let her be for now, do not pick her up. She is showing how proud she is that she has laid an egg.”
“Whoo hoo!” Chad yelled. He spun, causing her to lose her grip. She backed up a step to give him room, but he stepped close to her, wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed. “Blinkie’s a girl!” His arms dropped, but instead of stepping back, he reached up and cupped her face in his palms. His eyes shone with excitement. “I’m going to get eggs every day.”
“Nein, a hen does not lay every day, but—”
The press of Chad’s lips cut off Anna’s words. Before she had time to close her eyes or think about what was happening, it was over.
But he didn’t let her go or step back. His eyes widened, his entire face softened, and one corner of his mouth tilted up. She barely became aware of him tilting her chin up, just a little, but she was very aware of his mouth lowering to hers, this time very slowly.
His eyes drifted shut, and his thumbs brushed her cheeks, and he tilted his head.
Anna closed her eyes just as his lips touched hers. This time his kiss was slow, and the slowness of it made her heart race. She’d never felt anything as wonderful as the heat of Chad’s kiss and the warmth of his touch.
Just as slowly, he broke their kiss, but instead of stepping away, he straightened a little and lowered his head to kiss her again. She closed her eyes, wanting this again like nothing she’d ever wanted in her life before. But instead of the press of his soft lips, she heard the smack and felt the padding of the helmet pressing into her forehead as the protruding front sections of their helmets collided.
He backed up and pulled his helmet off his head. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Now if that wasn’t a mood breaker.”
The fog in her head began to clear as reality began to intrude.
Chad had just kissed her . . . and she’d kissed him right back . . .
She looked up, toward the kitchen window of her parents’ house.
The curtain didn’t move, which so far was a good sign.
She turned back to Chad and backed up a step. She’d been kissed before. Twice—both times by William. It had not been like that.
She backed up another step. “Ek~y mott ne tüsf gone. I must go home. I will see you in church tomorrow.”
Before she could escape, Chad stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around her arm. “No. Wait. Don’t leave like this. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Earlier this morning I called Brian and invited him over for supper, so he can pick you up and the three of us can have some fun this evening.”
She stopped, and he released his grip. She shook her head. “You did not frighten me. But suddenly I feel I need some time to think and to go pray. I will talk to you later.”
Before he could change her mind, or worse, kiss her again, Anna turned and ran home.
She would come back for her bicycle later.
27
Chad threw the peelings from the potatoes into the bucket for the compost so hard that a couple bounced out.
He couldn’t believe he’d kissed her.
He stopped with his hands in the sink, grasped around the next handful o
f peelings, and then mentally shook his head. Of course he could believe it. He’d wanted to kiss her for months. What he couldn’t believe was how he’d done it. He’d been planning and working up to the perfect romance-filled right moment.
Standing inside the smelly chicken coop with a squawking chicken bellowing and prancing around their feet hadn’t been it.
But then, she had kissed him back.
Chad closed his eyes and sighed. She really had kissed him back.
The image of Anna with her eyes closed, her head tilted slightly back, lost in the moment, rushed through his head. At just the thought of her sweet face he wanted to kiss her again.
But, of course, he couldn’t. Once it was over and she had come back to earth and thought about what they’d done, she’d hightailed it out of there like a scared rabbit. And now, living out here in the middle of nowhere, he could say he’d actually seen, in real life, what a scared rabbit really looked like.
Only one thing stopped him from running to her house and begging her on his knees to forgive him and forget about it.
He wanted to do it again.
And he was walking on thin ice with her father.
Okay, two things stopped him.
And the only time he could see her not in a crowd was when they were with Brian, a semiwilling third party.
So that was three things.
Since he didn’t want to go on with a list to infinity, Chad grabbed the peelings and tossed them into the bucket, picked it up, and strode outside.
On his way to the compost box, he slowed as he passed Waddles and Blinkie in the coop. “Sorry, gals, not today,” he called out, even though he still wasn’t sure of the gal-ness of Waddles, and kept walking. Unfortunately today he hadn’t cooked any of the peelings, and they looked disappointed they were missing a treat. Not knowing much about chickens, he’d used the Internet to find out what chickens liked for a snack to find to his horror that raw potato peels were toxic to chickens. The website source said they were okay if cooked, but today he hadn’t had time, so they didn’t get a snack.
