by Sarah Price
There was a pungent odor in the barn, but she didn’t mind it. It reminded her of Charm and the farms surrounding her father’s house. It was a musky smell with a sharp hint of ammonia to it. She knew that most of the tourists wrinkled their nose at the smell and commented about it. Back in Charm, the Amish often made remarks about how the Englische enjoyed the fruits of their labor without appreciating the actual labor itself. The remark stuck with Anna, for she knew it to be true.
Careful that she didn’t get any manure or dirt on her dress, she leaned forward and tugged gently on a cow’s ear. It looked at her, its deep brown eyes so soft and gentle. Never once did the cow stop chewing, its pink mouth moving in a steady rhythm: chomp, chomp, chomp. Anna laughed, a soft sound that caused another cow to lift its head and stare at her.
“Am I interrupting you, then?”
She jumped at the sound of Freman’s voice. Spinning around, she pressed her hand to her chest and took a step backward. “You scared me!”
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile.
“You are back already, then?”
He nodded his head. “Leah and I walked back to see how you fared. When we couldn’t find you in the house, I offered to see whether you had gone out to the barn. She brought a plate of food for you, in case you were hungry.”
“That was kind of her.” With a final glance at the cows, she started forward and walked beside Freman toward the barn door. Outside, the sun warmed her face and she squinted in the light until her eyes adjusted. “I trust the service was nice?” she asked as they strolled towards the house.
He nodded. “A good preacher, Deacon Lapp. I’ve missed his sermons.”
She had forgotten how long Freman had lived in Leola. He would be used to the different style of sermon which, she had heard, focused on how their daily behaviors needed to mirror God’s Word. Bishop Troyer, however, tended to preach about the sacrifices Jesus made for their salvation.
“We do become so used to the familiar that we aren’t often open to new or different things,” she said absentmindedly. “But I would have liked to have heard his sermon anyway.”
“Even if those new or different things are not pleasing to others?”
There was a peculiar look in his eyes, almost a gleam of curiosity. Anna wondered what he found so curious about her statement and his question in response. “I imagine it would depend, then,” she said slowly, thinking carefully about her words. “We have a duty to please certain people, even at the risk of making ourselves unhappy, I suppose. Take the issue of cell phones. I’ve heard tell that some communities are having problems with their youth not wanting to give up their cell phones when they become baptized members of the church.”
“A frivolous trifle,” he commented.
“I agree.” She paused at the steps that led to the wide porch at the Eshes’ house. “And, as such, I would have no problem supporting the Ordnung for any g’may which won’t allow the cell phones.”
“When would you stand your ground, Anna?”
The way he spoke, her name rolling off of his tongue as if eight years of separation had never happened, brought her back to a time long gone. For a moment, she was a teenager again, sitting beside him in the buggy, talking as they rode home from a singing. Immediately, she understood what his question truly meant: he referenced her inability to stand up against her father and Lydia’s opposition to their marriage.
She lowered her eyes, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “A young woman might find it uncomfortable, even unseemly, to stand for anything if others disagree.” She bit her lower lip and forced herself to speak the following words.
“However, as a mature woman I see the folly in that and, as such, know there are certain things I would adamantly support, even if I were to offend those who so often guide me and offer advice.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod, as if pleased with her response. But he had no time to comment, for the sound of Leah’s voice announced her approach and interrupted their conversation. Anna took advantage of the distraction to mount the steps and enter through the screen door.
“There you are!” Leah laughed as she bounded down the stairs and stood next to Freman. “I’ve checked on Mary and she seems quite content to stay in bed all day. She asked me to reheat the broth for her.”
Anna reached for the empty mug that Leah held. “Nee, I’ll take care of it.” Swiftly she retreated to the kitchen where the pot of broth still rested on the stove. In the distance came the sound of an approaching horse and buggy. The familiar clip-clop of its hooves on the pavement carried strongly in the stillness of the air. People were returning home after the fellowship meal that had followed worship.
Moments later, Anna joined Leah and Freman at the table, where they were discussing that morning’s worship service. They paused a moment in their discussion to allow Anna to pray silently over her noon meal. On the plate before her Leah had put two slices of bread, small salted pretzels, a few slices of cheese and bologna, coleslaw, and two pickles. It was enough to sustain her until the supper meal. Sunday fare was always lighter than other days, usually prepared in advance so that no one would need to cook. Leftovers might be reheated for the evening meal, but on that day women did not generally cook for the family.
“What a gorgeous day!” Leah exclaimed, her eyes shining and bright. “Anna, we walked a spell after worship and you won’t believe what I did!” Her laughter filled the room. “I climbed on a felled tree by the road and . . . ” She paused and glanced at Freman. He lifted an eyebrow, perfectly arched, with an amused expression on his face.
“And what, Leah?” Anna asked, conflicting emotions flooding through her. Leah’s happiness and joy was delightful to see, yet Anna felt pain at suspecting the cause of it.
Covering her mouth with her hands, Leah giggled, a noise that seemed far too young for her age. “I jumped!”
Freman’s expression changed, a more serious look upon his face. “Indeed you did. And not once but twice.” He glanced at Anna and shook his head. “I warned her not to do it.”
“Oh, Freman!” Leah gushed. “It was so liberating! I’m not certain when I last did such a thing.”
He took a deep breath and returned his attention to Leah. “I should not have caught you the first time! It encouraged you, I fear, to do it again.”
Anna’s heart beat rapidly as she realized what Freman implied. Had Leah openly flirted with him by jumping into his arms? Such behavior, Anna thought, was uncomely, even for Leah, who was the more energetic and lively of the two sisters.
“Perhaps,” Anna started, hoping to change the direction of the conversation, “you might tell me about the service.”
As she picked at the food on her plate, she listened to Leah and Freman talk, discussing the sermon and how the deacon had informed the congregation that they were not doing enough to help others. He had related stories from the Bible, often quoting Scripture from memory to support his sermon.
“I found it rather powerful,” Leah said. “It’s quite different than the sermons we hear in Sugarcreek, don’t you think?”
“And from Indiana, as well,” he agreed. “The sermons here seem more conservative than el
sewhere . . . with the exception of the Schwartzentrubers and Nebraska Amish, of course.”
Anna looked up, curious at the statement he had just made. “But they, themselves, are not so conservative,” she pointed out. “Seems that they rely heavily on the Englischer tourists.”
“How so, Anna?”
Freman’s pointed question shifted the discussion in her direction. She hadn’t meant to interrupt them, but the conversation had caught her attention. “Vell,” Anna said as she took a breath to collect her thoughts. “When I helped with the applesauce canning, those jars would normally be for the family, ain’t so? But Linda stated that half of them would be sold at a store in town that the Englische visit.”
“That is true.”
“And when we drove through town to the auction the other day,” she continued, “the entire town seemed to cater to the tourists. Why, the exposure to worldliness would tempt more than a few youth, I imagine.” She shook her head. “I dare say that the quaintness of Charm and Sugarcreek appeals far more to me.”
He seemed to consider her words for a moment, but did not comment further. He didn’t have to for the sound of voices approaching the house interrupted the small group. Anna stood up to clear her plate and wipe the table so that everything was tidy upon their arrival.
For the rest of the afternoon and after the light evening meal, the four women played Scrabble while the men discussed the price of tobacco. At some point Mary descended the stairs, dressed in a plain navy blue dress and with her hair pinned back under her kapp. As was to be expected, everyone fussed over her, Rebecca quick to abandon the game in order to make Mary a cup of peppermint tea.
“Danke, Rebecca,” Mary said as she accepted the teacup. “I am so sorry to have missed the service. But I am feeling better. So much activity yesterday must have just worn me out.”
“That’s understandable,” Rebecca sympathized. “You just relax and rest. The best cure for most ailments.”
It did not, however, surprise Anna that Mary sat at the table, watching the game of Scrabble. She peered at Hannah’s tiles and clicked her tongue when she laid down a word. “You could have doubled your points,” she said, pointing at two letters in Hannah’s tray.
“Mayhaps you might wish to play in the next round?”
Anna detected a touch of sarcasm from Hannah, but Mary viewed the question as a proper invitation. “I would indeed!”
Leah volunteered to sit out, and when the time came for round two, she excused herself to sit with the men. Again. She sat in the rocking chair, gently pushing it with her bare toes. In the chair next to her sat Freman, who leaned his elbows against his knees as he talked with Jonas, Cris, and Benjamin. While Leah contributed little to the conversation, she seemed to enjoy sitting there, listening to the men talk. Anna suspected it had more to do with being near Freman than a genuine interest in the actual discussion.
By the time that they finished their third round of Scrabble, the sun having long ago set behind the tree line on the horizon, Jonas stood up and stretched, announcing that he would be retiring for the night. “Early to bed, early to rise . . . ” he teased. Unlike people, cows demanded a schedule that did not allow variation. While his herd was small, he still needed to rise at 4:30 a.m. to attend to the first of the day’s two milkings.
The rest of the group quickly followed suit, the only one alarmed at the sudden end to the evening being Mary. But, with tomorrow being their last day in Lancaster (and an early morning departure schedule for the morning after that), a good night’s sleep was in the best interest of everyone. Anna knew that she, in particular, was looking forward to returning home, even if the vision of home residing in her head did not match the memory of the home in her heart.
Chapter Twelve
ON MONDAY, GOOD weather together with the realization that their short venture to Pennsylvania was rapidly drawing to a close, sent the group outdoors to spend an afternoon relaxing by the large pond on the Eshes’ property. It was tucked away in the backfields behind the farmhouse, visible only at the entrance of the driveway, for a small gathering of trees blocked it from view when proceeding farther up.
On the far side of the pond, a stream trickled into it, the water gently cascading over several large rocks as it fed the larger body of water.
Cris took advantage of the peace and quiet to fish, having borrowed a pole from Jonas. While he caught only a few stream trout, his serene composure displayed how content he was on this glorious Monday afternoon. The other two men had stayed behind, Freman offering to assist Benjamin with fixing a rotting beam in the ceiling of the hayloft.
Leah and Hannah ran through the meadow, collecting pretty leaves that had already fallen from nearby trees. Since the farmer didn’t use this particular field for growing crops, there were several downed trees tucked into the high grass. Both Leah and Hannah reminded Anna of small children as they climbed atop the fallen trees, their arms outstretched as they walked along the top of the logs. Once, Hannah stumbled, and grabbing onto Leah’s arm, they both tumbled to the ground.
Swatting at an ant that crawled across the blanket, Mary sighed her disapproval. “It’s outrageous!”
“What is?” The gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees lulled Anna into a peaceful mood. She couldn’t imagine anything about the afternoon that even Mary could find to her dissatisfaction.
“Sitting here.” She gestured at the tall grasses surrounding where they sat. The gentle chirp of crickets filled the air, and flies buzzed past, enjoying the last of the good weather. Soon enough it would turn, and when the vegetation died for the season, they too would be gone.
“It’s lovely here, Mary. Considering the long drive ahead of us and how poorly you felt yesterday, you should try to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the fresh air.”
“How can I? There are bugs everywhere!” She swatted at a fly to make her point.
Irritated, Mary looked in the direction of her husband and his sisters. Cris stood at the end of a wooden dock, one that probably had been used frequently when the Esh children were younger, his face toward the sun as he held the fishing pole. The water of the pond reflected the sky, soft ripples occasionally breaking the placid surface when a frog jumped from one place to another. Just beyond him, Leah and Hannah sat atop a tree, their arms bared as they basked in the sun.
With a wave of her hand, she added, “And we sit here while they just traipse around. Not a care in the world, I reckon. I’m not even sure why we are here! It’s an affront to be ignored in such a manner.”
Anna tried to smile, even though she found it hard to constantly listen to her sister’s stream of complaints about every perceived slight and personal injury. There was no response that she could offer to appease Mary, even if she put it forward with sincerity. So, as she had been taught at a young age, first by her mother and later by Lydia, silence was the best recourse.
Yet the silence was quickly broken by the sound of deep voices that approached from behind them. Laughter and then more conversation followed. Curious, Anna turned around, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She was not surprised to see Freman and Benjamin walking across the field in their direction. As they neared, her eyes flickered once again in their direction, just enough so that Mary noticed t
hat the men were joining them.
Immediately Mary’s demeanor changed. The frown previously worn upon her face was quickly changed to one of joy and welcome. She quickly jumped to her feet, the meddlesome insects forgotten as she greeted the two men, both of whom she envisioned would be her future brothers-in-law. “How right gut to see you!” She shook their hands and gestured toward the log where Leah and Hannah sat, their heads tilted together as they talked in a way that only sisters can do. “The girls are over there.” Without waiting for anyone to respond, Mary waved her arm and called out, “Leah! Hannah!”
Lifting their heads from their private conversation, both women stared at the group, taking a moment before they recognized Freman and Benjamin. It was Leah, however, who smiled first and jumped down from the log, taking a moment to adjust her kapp that had slid back onto her neck. Hannah followed, and both of them ran across the field, laughing as they did so.
“Leah!” Mary scolded. “Both of you! Running like schoolgirls!”
Leah waved her hand at her sister-in-law, still laughing. “Oh, Mary! You sound like an old woman! Mayhaps it would do you gut to have some fun once in a while!”
Hannah leaned against her sister, laughing with her. A strand of hair fell from beneath her prayer kapp. When Leah reached to fix it, Hannah’s own kapp fell off. The white prayer kapp, so light and airy, fell gracefully as Hannah reached up, trying to stop it. She turned around, her hand grazing the top of the kapp, just as Anna managed to catch it.
“Oh, help,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing red, as she took it back from Anna.
As decorum dictated, Freman turned his head, his eyes scanning the field and seeing Cris standing at the edge of the pond. “Why, there’s a good idea,” he said to no one in particular. “Fishing. A calming hobby. Allows a person to relax, enjoy nature, and reflect on all of the blessings God has bestowed upon us.”
