The Amish Wonders Collection

by Ruth Reid

  “These are yours.” Toby sent a pair of socks flying across the room.

  Ben caught them midflight. “Danki.” He shoved them into the bag.

  “What lit your fire? I’ve never seen you in this much of a hurry for anything.”

  “I’m just ready to get out of Badger Creek.” But the thought of returning to Florida unsettled his nerves. He wasn’t ready to face his father either.

  Toby snorted. “This afternoon you made it sound as if you might stay. What changed?”

  Ben plopped on the mattress, exhaling a sigh that did nothing to ease the burden weighing on his heart. “I kissed her.”

  “And you got slapped—again.”

  “Nay,” Ben snapped. “She responded.”

  “They all do, don’t they?” A scowl crossed Toby’s face as he rolled his head, as if stretching out his neck muscles.

  Ben shot off the bed, a low growl rumbling in his throat.“Graber, I’ve heard enough of your digs. We were best friends. What happened?”

  Anger flicked in Toby’s eyes. “You tell me.”

  A knock sounded on the door. “I’ve got the rest of your clothes,” the bishop’s wife said through the closed door.

  Ben opened the door and forced a smile. “Danki, Mrs. Yoder.”

  She handed Ben the neat stack of laundry. “I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to find the clothes I put on the line the other day.”

  “Don’t worry about it. They’re old clothes.” Ben gently set the items on the bed.

  She placed her index finger on her temple and her forehead creased. “I don’t remember if I checked the wash haus.” She looked up at him. “Would you be so kind as to look for me? I’d hate for you to go back to Florida and leave something behind.”

  He was already leaving his pride behind. A few shirts didn’t matter.

  “Sure.” Ben clipped Toby with a challenging glare. “You coming?”

  Toby tossed the pants he’d been folding on the bed, smiled stiffly, and headed to the door. “Let’s go.”

  They donned their coats and hats and grabbed a lantern before heading outside. Ben couldn’t help but notice Toby clenching and unclenching his hands as they fled the house. The simmering pot was about to boil over, and for the life of him, Ben didn’t know why. He waited until they were halfway across the yard before starting the conversation. “What’s gotten into you, Graber?”

  “They’re all a challenge to you, aren’t they?” Toby shook his head in disgust.

  “You’ve said that before.” Ben shrugged. “I don’t get it. You’ve known me all mei life. I haven’t changed.”

  “Exactly. And Grace deserves someone better than you.”

  Ben nodded. “I was wrong. I misread the look in her eyes and I shouldn’t have kissed her.”

  Toby growled under his breath.

  “I—was—wrong. What else do you want me to say?” Ben scowled when Toby merely huffed. “I thought you were mei friend.” He jerked the door open to the wash haus and waited for Toby, who was carrying the lantern, to enter first. “I actually feel rotten for what I did—even without your reprimand—so back off.”

  Toby stepped into Ben’s path. “When you kissed Neva in the storage shed, did you feel rotten about that too?”

  Ben’s spine stiffened.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  For the first time, Ben saw anguish behind the anger in Toby’s eyes. “Jah,” Ben finally admitted. “I felt bad about her too.” He touched his face, remembering the sting of her slap. “I wore Neva’s handprint on the side of mei face for a day. I never thought she would talk to me again.”

  “But she did.”

  Ben winced at the condemnation in Toby’s hiss. He sounded more and more like his father. He peeked inside the washtub, found it empty, and moved to the door. “I don’t see any clothes out here. I’m going back inside.” Ben hung his head. He should never have acted on his attraction to Grace. Why did he kiss her when things were still unfinished between him and Neva? Toby had been right to call him a fool.

  Grace closed her eyes as tears trickled down her face and fell onto her pillow. She couldn’t erase the image of Ben’s expression when he looked into the poultice solution. It smells like medicine. What did he think was making his eyes water? The scent was caustic. The fumes of the mixture seeped from the rags and mocked her condition—her lot in life. Her eyes burned.

  “God, I’ve tried to accept my weakness, to understand the meaning of Your Word, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ But it doesn’t make sense. You are all-powerful. You laid the foundation of the earth. You tell the mountains to move. You command the thunder and send the rain. So, I don’t understand. Why do You need my weakness to make perfect Your power?”

  A knock sounded on her bedroom door and Grace swiped her hand over her face to dry her tears. “Kumm in.”

  Aenti Erma entered the room. “Grace, are you okay?”

  “Jah,” she whispered, thankful she had already turned the lamp wick down. But the lack of light didn’t stop Aenti from moving farther into the room or from sitting on the chair beside her bed.

  “Ben didn’t stay long. Is everything all right?”

  “He needed to get back to the bishop’s in order to pack.” Her throat tightened. She didn’t want to talk about Ben. “Aenti, was I named Grace because mei left leg is shorter than my right? Mamm recited the verse about God’s grace being sufficient ever since I can remember.”

  “You are your mother’s unmerited favor. She hadn’t been able to have a boppli for six years, then God blessed her with a daughter. But it was your father who named you. He said they were blessed with God’s grace and that’s what your name needed to be.” Aenti patted Grace’s shoulder. “You’re a blessing, child. You’ve certainly filled this lonely woman’s life with joy.”

  A new crop of tears pooled in Grace’s eyes. She wished her aunt would stay year-round. Aenti believed Daed avoided her because she looked so much like Mamm, but Grace wasn’t so sure that was the reason. Even so, Grace couldn’t help but believe that she was her aunt’s favorite niece because they had so much in common. Including that neither would ever marry.

  Ben dropped his bag next to the bench in the bus station. It wouldn’t be long before Badger Creek was behind him. He pictured himself sitting on the beach with foamy water washing the shore and the caw—caw—caw of seagulls in the distance. He loved Florida. So why did the thought of returning home—leaving Badger Creek—feel unsettling?

  “I’m sorry you’re leaving so soon,” Bishop Yoder said. “I know it’s tough being away from family. It’s gut that things worked out for you to go home.”

  “Danki for allowing us to stay with you,” Toby said. “Please tell mei onkel I’m sorry I missed him.”

  “Maybe you’ll have the opportunity to visit again.” Bishop Yoder turned to Ben. “It was gut to meet you, and you’re always welkom back.”

  “Danki for everything.”

  Toby motioned to the ticket counter. “Looks like it’s getting busier. We should probably get in line to purchase our tickets.”

  Bishop Yoder nodded. “I’ll be on mei way. I have a few other stops to make while I’m in town. Have a safe journey.” He clapped their shoulders. “Kumm back anytime.”

  As the bishop ambled down the corridor, Ben couldn’t help but compare this departure with his last. When he left Florida, his father hadn’t clapped his back or even invited him back.

  Ben and Toby crossed the lobby and joined the throng of people waiting to buy tickets. The automatic door leading to the platform opened and a gust of wind swept through the station.

  Toby shivered. “It’ll feel gut to get out of this kalt wedder. Just think, in a few days we’ll be planting shrubs again. Trees will have leaves instead of bare branches.”

  This was the most Toby had talked since their heated conversation last night. His friend was certainly anxious to go home. “On our way here I saw
some buds starting.” Ben moved forward along with the other people in the line. Badger Creek wasn’t so bad. Other than Grace making it clear she didn’t want him here. But unlike Toby, Ben didn’t miss planting shrubs, and the thought of returning home soured his stomach.

  The bishop’s words rolled over in Ben’s mind. It’s gut that things worked out for you to go home . . . They’d worked out for Toby. His parents sent him bus fare. Ben’s parents weren’t expecting him. Nothing had changed between his father and him. He certainly wouldn’t have earned his father’s respect in this short time away. It took longer than that to destroy it. Recalling the incidents that led to his being sent away, Ben hadn’t paid attention that they were next in line until Toby nudged him.

  “You coming?” His friend moved toward the vacant window.

  Ben followed.

  “Two tickets for Sarasota, Florida.” Toby opened his wallet.

  “Make that one ticket for Florida and one for Shipshewana, Indiana.” Ben turned to Toby. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “Indiana?” Toby narrowed his eyes. “Why there?”

  “I can’t go home. Nett yet.”

  “We’re going to need another minute,” Toby told the woman. He tugged on Ben’s shirtsleeve and they stepped away from the counter. “I thought we were both going home . . . Daed will give you back your job.”

  Having a job hadn’t stopped his father from sending him away. “Your situation is different. I can’t go back—nett yet.”

  Toby scowled and crossed his arms. “Why Indiana? You’ve never mentioned going to Shipshewana before.”

  “My two sisters are there. One of their husbands should be able to find me work.”

  Toby mumbled something, turned toward the window, and stared outside.

  The way their friendship had been strained over the past few weeks, Ben hadn’t expected this response. “Hey, maybe if I’m nett there to get you into trouble, you’ll find a gut woman and settle down. You’ve been saying you want to get married and start a family.”

  Toby didn’t have to say anything, or even turn in Ben’s direction. The reflection off the window mirrored Toby’s frown.

  They had always been like brothers, but Ben had no clue what was irking Toby. “I think I’ll walk over to the vending machine. Do you want anything?”

  Toby shook his head without turning to face him.

  Ben had enough change to select a pack of gum. He headed toward the row of benches and sat.

  Toby continued to stare outside several more minutes, then turned and lumbered over to Ben. “I have to tell you something.” He drew in a breath. “I should have told you . . . sooner.” He looked down at the cement floor.

  “What is it?”

  “Neva lives in Indiana.”

  Ben vaulted off the seat. “How do you know?”

  Toby stepped backward. “She’s living with her second cousin.”

  “Did your mamm write that in her letter? When did you find out?”

  “I’ve known”—Toby bowed his head—“all along,” he whispered.

  Ben’s thoughts whirled. His friend, his best friend, had known her whereabouts? As the news rolled over in Ben’s mind, questions began to surface. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t understand—we’re best friends.”

  Toby snorted.

  “If you have more to tell me, you’d better spit it out.”

  Toby released a weighty sigh. “We were secretly seeing each other—long before you kissed her in the shed that day.”

  Ben’s mouth fell agape. “And you think I would have done that had I known?” He shook his head. “Never!” Acid rose to the back of his throat as he recalled the night she met him on the boat pier, stumbling drunk and rambling about a ruined future. “You know about the nacht—”

  “Yes!” Anger flared in Toby’s eyes.

  “Was the letter you got from her?”

  Toby nodded. “We’ve been corresponding.”

  Ben glanced at the large clock on the wall. “We should probably get our tickets.”

  Toby blew out a breath and headed to the line. Neither spoke as they waited, and when they reached the counter, Toby said, “One ticket for Sarasota, Florida, and”—he turned to Ben—“where do you want to go?”

  “And one for Shipshewana, Indiana, please.”

  Toby removed his wallet and paid the fare. He collected the tickets and handed Ben his.

  Ben glanced at the ticket. “You gave me the wrong one.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s you that needs to go to Indiana.” Ben smiled. “And stop being so indecisive. If you two have been writing back and forth this entire year—”

  “Ben, there’s more to it than you know.”

  The overhead speaker crackled and a woman’s voice announced that passengers should board on platform D.

  “Sounds like your bus is here,” Ben said as the woman gave the departing information. “Nau exchange tickets with me and get out of here.”

  Toby glanced at the double doors leading to the loading dock, then back to Ben. “I can’t. I told you . . . there’s more to it.”

  A second call rang out for boarding. Ben nudged Toby toward the doors. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Outside on the platform, Toby dropped his duffel bag and, squatting next to it, pawed through the contents. He stood, holding a fistful of twine-tied envelopes. He hesitated a moment, then handed them to Ben. “After you read these . . . you might . . .”

  Ben glanced at Neva’s fancy handwriting addressed to Toby, then at his best friend’s despondent expression. Ben smiled. “Don’t let that bus leave without you. It’s time to stop being indecisive and seize the day.”

  “You need to read the letters.”

  The bus hissed and a puff of exhaust fumes clouded the loading dock.

  “You need to catch that bus.”

  “Ben . . . I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  Grace stayed busy all morning, washing walls and windows, but thoughts of Ben still besieged her conscience. It was just as well that he returned to Florida. Not many people could tolerate the hard work and bitter weather conditions in Badger Creek. She barely could.

  Grace stared out the sitting room window at the land she planned to till this spring. She wanted to put in a larger garden this year, even double the amount of red potatoes and yams. But working in the garden would have to wait. The ground was still too soggy for planting.

  She doused the plate glass with pungent vinegar, then pulled apart a few pages of the Budget to wipe the window with. She liked using newspaper because it never left streaks like paper towels did.

  “There,” Aenti said, admiring the wooden lamp table. “I think I’m done dusting.” She removed the glass chimney on the oil lamp. “I’m going to take this into the kitchen to wash. Should I put the kettle on for tea?”

  “Sounds gut. I’m almost done with the windows.”

  Aenti left the room humming, a tune Grace recognized from the Ausbund. Humming along, Grace rubbed the glass with the wadded-up newspaper until it squeaked. It always amazed her how much soot built up on the windows over the winter. She moved to the next window, wetted it with vinegar, and, through the blurred window, caught a flash of blue movement near the barn. Grace scrubbed the glass clean, but the image was gone. Maybe her eyes had played a trick on her. She hadn’t slept well last night and her eyes were droopy. Still, when LeAnn left the house this morning to gather maple sap, she was wearing a forest-green dress and her black cloak. The men weren’t back and even though the image was distorted through the blurry glass, it appeared too large to be one of her nephews. Grace set the spray bottle on the windowsill and went into the kitchen.

  Aenti stood at the sink, washing the oil lamp’s glass chimney in the soapy water. She stopped humming when Grace entered the room. “The kettle should be hot any minute.”

  Grace removed two cups from the cupboard and set them on the counter. She meandere
d over to the window and peered outside. Usually, she looked forward to this time of the year, when the trees budded with new growth. It meant Philemon and the other men would be home from camp soon. Anticipation of the men’s return always sent a buzz throughout the settlement as the women worked together to prepare a welcoming feast. Grace’s chest tightened. What did she have to look forward to? Philemon had made his intentions known prior to leaving that when he returned from camp, he and Becky were going to marry. Grace’s vision blurred with tears. Ach, foolish old maid. Why hadn’t she seen the signs? Philemon hadn’t misled her; it was she who had hopelessly believed something more would come from their long-standing friendship. And after Ben’s kiss left her utterly speechless and her entire body tingling, she’d have a difficult time looking Philemon in the eye even if he had changed his mind about marrying Becky while he was gone. Not that there was a chance of that occurring.

  She blotted the corners of her eyes with the edge of her dress sleeve. She wouldn’t ever marry. Not with one leg shorter than the other. A paralyzing thought stiffened her joints. Her mother was Grace’s age when her muscles started failing her. Shortly after, she received the news she had muscular dystrophy.

  “Is everything all right?” Her aenti’s voice broke the silence.

  Grace turned from the window and forced a smile. She didn’t dare speak for fear her voice might crack with the egg-sized lump growing in her throat. Even so, her lips were trembling.

  Aenti tossed the dish towel on the counter and patted Grace’s shoulder. “What’s troubling you, child?”

  “Just feeling a little blue. It’ll pass.” Lord willing, her heart would mend. She went to the stove, picked up the hissing kettle using a potholder, and poured the steaming water into the cups. “Did you want honey in your tea?” Grace loaded a spoonful of the thick, golden sweetener and let it dissolve in her tea.

  “Grace, what’s wrong? Is this about Ben leaving for Florida?”

  “Nett really.” She forced a smile. “Mamm was mei age when she was diagnosed, wasn’t she? Her legs started to spasm and then her arms, right?”

  “Jah, child.”