by Beth Shriver
“I’ve learned a lot by coming here.”
“Like what?” he asked in jest.
Now that she knew the reason he was callous toward her, she could better handle his cynicism. “That my life back home fits me.”
I just hope they still think I fit them. She stopped the thought. She had made every effort to find a way to be accepted by others, to find out why she had not been wanted by her birth mother, when all along the place she came from suited her so completely.
“You seemed to fit in pretty well in Harrisonburg, for an Amish.” He grinned. “When will you be coming back?”
“I won’t unless there’s a reason.”
“You mean your mother.”
“Jah, my birth mother.”
He grinned. “Not to see me.” He said it as a statement, not a question, as if he knew the answer.
“You know, Rudy Glick, when we first met, I thought we might never understand one another.” Her face was serious.
His head drew back slightly, and he opened his mouth to speak.
“But I think we do.” She grinned.
He gave her a weak sort of smile, one that almost made Annie sad.
“Well, then.” Rudy’s voice broke into her reverie. “We’re going to have a night on the town before you go.”
She eyed him with apprehension.
He chuckled. “You know me well enough to trust me. It won’t be an English night out; it will be a Mennonite one.”
Annie still wasn’t convinced. These were the things teenagers from their community experienced during their rumspringa that Annie had done well to avoid. And being with someone who knew about all of these desires and pleasures would be worse than with the young Amish who didn’t know where to go or what to do.
“I know a great place where we can get—”
“No.” She paused and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just not interested.”
Rudy pulled over and parked, then hiked up a leg on his car seat. “That hurts, ya know, not believing that I’ll make good judgments about where we go and what we do. What kind of a friend do you think I am?”
She couldn’t tell whether he was serious but didn’t want to take the chance she’d offended him. “I didn’t mean to be rude—”
He laughed. “I’m joking; you need to lighten up. I’m sure you have a great sense of humor somewhere in there.”
She had been all business since she’d arrived—so into her quest that she’d forgotten how to have fun. But did she dare even dangle her toe in the water? What if she got swept away and went too far, made the wrong choice? “Okay…”
“That’s all I needed to hear. Follow me.” He opened the car door and stepped out, moving to her side, and opened the door.
He wasn’t giving her a choice, and it made her even more uncomfortable.
He squatted next to her and placed one hand on the edge of her seat for balance. “Annie, all you’ve done since you’ve been here is work on finding your mother. When I first heard you were coming to stay with us, I balked, like I always do about anything Amish. But after I met you and realized why you’d come, I admired your bravery, and as we went along searching, I realized how smart you were and how determined to do what you came here for.”
He took her hand and stood, urging her out of the car. “I know the Amish are committed to their work, but I also remember how they always made time to rest and to have a good time. And that, Annie Beiler, is what we’re going to do right now.”
He turned around and pointed to a hibachi restaurant. “And this is where we’re eating dinner tonight.” He practically pulled her out of the car.
“But I’m not wearing my English clothes.” She’d left them in Rudy’s room with a note thanking him for the gesture but saying she couldn’t keep clothes that would never be worn again.
“Don’t worry; the attention will all be on the chef.” He smirked.
She frowned in confusion, not understanding why they would be watching someone cook. Now her curiosity was piqued, and she willingly stepped in time with Rudy.
As soon as he opened the door, the smell of chicken, fish, and beef wafted through the room. Rudy told an Asian man they were a party of two, and he guided them to a long, square table where eight people were already seated. Annie wondered whether they all knew each other but quickly realized from the way they kept to themselves that they didn’t.
The chef walked in to the center area of the square wearing a tall white hat and apron and poured oil on a huge, hot grill. The way he used a spatula to thin the oil and quickly move it around the cooking area fascinated Annie.
“He moves so quickly, I can hardly keep track of the spatula,” she told Rudy, her eyes still trying to follow the chef’s movements.
“You haven’t seen anything yet. Keep watching.” He crossed his arms on the table and watched with her. The others around them did the same, and people began to talk with others outside their personal group. This was more familiar to Annie, as she talked with a young couple next to her and another family sitting to the right of them.
There were lots of jokes at the dinner. People at their table had fun getting to know one another as the chef kept them entertained with an assortment of tricks with knives, spatulas, eggs, and vegetables. By the end of their dinner every guest was willing to try catching bits of zucchini squash the chef launched at them. Some were eager to have a second chance. Annie laughed when Rudy snapped his head around like a snake catching everything that was thrown at him.
“You’re pretty good at that.” She chuckled.
“Depends on how hungry you are.” He grinned and watched her feeble attempt to catch a cut-up carrot that bounced off her nose and onto the table in front of her.
She glanced at him but watched carefully in case another bit of food was tossed at her. “I guess I’m not hungry enough yet.” They both laughed and watched the chef go around the table to those brave enough to try again.
Small portions of miso soup and salad were served first, and then the chef prepared vegetables, fried rice, and a variety of meats. Rudy ordered steak for himself and chicken for Annie and an extra order of teriyaki sauce, shrimp, and scallops. They watched as the chef cut them up at lightning speed on the tremendously hot cooking surface.
The filet mignon Rudy ordered was prepared to perfection. It was so tender that every bite was a tasty experience. Scallops prepared on the hibachi grill were also excellent—bronzed and crusty on the outside, soft and succulent on the inside.
“I’ve never had these.” Annie stuffed another bite of shrimp into her mouth. “Is it a type of fish?” She savored the delicious blend of butter and lemon mixed with the firm shrimp.
“Actually, they’re a shellfish, a bottom-feeder.” He grinned after he said it, making her even more curious.
“Bottom of what? The ocean?” The scrumptious bite she was enjoying only a moment ago was becoming questionable as she learned more.
“They eat what others discard.” He took a bite of one and watched her as she swallowed hard and decided on the chicken instead.
“Chicken.” Rudy teased.
“At least I know what I’m eating and what they eat.” She took a bite to get the shrimp taste off her tongue.
“No, I meant you, not wanting to eat something that’s good because you can’t stomach the fish’s diet.” He challenged her, all the while eating more shrimp.
Their gazes met and stayed. He’d known she needed this—getting her mind off something that had been turned on for months. It put things in perspective and refreshed her weary mind of all that had driven her so hard for so long.
“Danke.” She smiled tentatively, because the word was out of place for the moment.
He snorted. “For what? Dinner?” His eyes didn’t waver.
“For making me have fun.” She lifted her eyebrows and gave him a grateful smile, waiting for him to accept.
“Thank you for cooperating.” He chuckled.
�
�Jah, I guess I played a part.”
“You said yes.”
She shook her head slowly so as not to lose eye contact. “No, I never did say the word. You dragged me.”
“I suppose we remember things the way we want them to be.” His grin broadened.
“Okay then, but we’ll need to stick to the same story.”
“Which could be anything, since we’re creating our own version of what really happened.” He turned toward her, enjoying the conversation.
“Jah, as a matter of fact, I think this was all my idea.” She nodded and smiled back at him.
“I won’t let you have that one.”
She furrowed her brows. “Why not?”
“Because it’s too far from reality; no one would believe it.”
That made her feel better for some stupid reason. There was nothing wrong with what they were doing, at least not yet. The chemistry between them that had been suppressed was now building up, and Annie knew she had to stop it but without ruining their evening. This was a good way to remember this visit, not all about the search.
“Okay then, I get to pick what we do next.” Except for the fact that she had no idea where to go or what to do. Rudy could see it in her face and, as always, helped her along.
“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do, eat, drink…entertainment that we do?”
She appreciated that he said what he did versus the Englishers. Rudy was true to his Mennonite ways, and she admired him for that. She thought for a few minutes, and then it came to her. “Ice cream.”
He stopped short of putting a scallop in his mouth, about which she was now wondering as much as she had the shrimp. “Good answer. I know just the place to go.”
Rudy paid the bill, saying he’d be insulted if she tried to use one of her flour dollars to help. She laughed at his name for her mother’s money and its spots of white powder.
“So where are we going?” Annie asked as Rudy scooted into his car seat next to her.
“Just enjoy the drive and tell me something I don’t know about you.” He pulled on to the highway, making Annie wonder even more where they were going, but soon they were so engaged in conversation she stopped noticing.
They hadn’t talked about anything other than the very basics and the particulars of her search. Looking back, Annie wished they would have gotten to know each other better a long time ago. It would have made their time researching more enjoyable.
Then she stopped. It may have become too comfortable, and these hidden feelings she felt rising up now and again might have become stronger. She had trusted this entire journey to Gott, and He had protected her from a forbidden relationship as well. Maybe that’s why He hadn’t had her find her mother as well.
They pulled into a place called the Purple Cow. The place was packed with people, young and old. People drove up to a sign that talked to them. Rudy placed their order, telling Annie to trust his choice for her, and a person answered. Soon a girl on roller skates came out and brought them their order. No churning milk and sugar for hours in a container covered with ice and salt.
Annie felt spoiled as she stared at the perfect ice cream. She looked closer and saw bits of chocolate mixed in with it. “Ach!” She squeaked with delight.
Rudy grinned and dug into his double helping of chocolate ice cream. “Just wait ’til you try it.”
When she did, the taste of nuts, chocolate, and the vanilla ice cream made her taste buds tingle. “I’ve had berries on ice cream but never chocolate and…is it peanuts? She took another bite.
“It’s a Snickers bar.” Rudy watched her surprise.
“Good choice.” They ate in silence for a minute, and then Annie started thinking about ice cream like she never had before. “I’ve always wondered how the ice cream freezes.”
“The salty ice water absorbs heat from the mixture, bringing it below the freezing point of water and turning the mixture into ice cream.” Rudy answered as if he were in a college classroom and she were the instructor.
She stopped eating and stared. Sometimes she wished she was as smart as Rudy, that her community let them continue their education if they wanted to. Most didn’t, like the average kid, but for those with the talent and desire it would be good for them to expand their minds. It could be beneficial to the community in many ways. But she also understood why their community didn’t allow it. The children were needed to help with the family farm, and once they reached a certain age, they were more useful doing farmwork.
“What? You asked.” He shrugged and looked away as he polished off his dessert. “What would you say about staying for one more week?”
She started to speak, and he held up a hand.
“You’re so close, Annie. I can feel it. Just think about it for a minute before you say no.”
Annie immediately thought no, but since he made her stop and think, she did. She’d come to listen to Rudy’s suggestions and ideas and learned two heads were better than one. He’d been right about what agencies to go to and where to find others when they led to a dead end. Maybe he was right again.
Chapter Twenty
HERE’S THE LAST of them.” John’s sister Mary wobbled toward him with a stack of quilts so high she could barely see where she was going.
He took the tower of sewn-together patches from her and for an instant let his gaze linger on the one on the top. It was much like one Annie had made—one of her first—and wasn’t in good shape, but the blended colors of blue made into a star-like pattern looked perfect to him. “I like that one.”
“Well, then you can buy it.” Mary grinned and turned to go back inside and help her mamm gather the canned goods they would take along.
John liked the Deutschland quilt and thought he might just do that. The mud sale, named for the churned mud caused by the rain and crowds of people, took place each spring. This last spring the land had been doused with so much rain they had to postpone the event.
Now that they were in the midst of the summer harvesting, they didn’t have time for such an event, but because the firemen’s benefit auction depended on their charity to raise money for the volunteer fire companies, it had to be done. And no matter what else needed doing, today they would gather crafts, food, livestock, equipment, plants, bales of hay, furniture, and quilts and do their part for a community outside their own.
When they had all the goods loaded, John took the reins of one wagon, and his daed took the other wagon, which was already packed and ready to go. They took their time traveling into the small town, which had doubled in size because of the sale. People came from miles away for the mud sale, and even with it being months overdue, people still flocked to partake in the activities.
John helped Mary down from the wagon as the boys scurried away in curiosity. His mamm looked after them with an expression of joy and with a trace of sadness. John took two steps closer to her and leaned in close, trying to guess what was on her mind.
“They’re growing up.” He kept his eyes forward, watching them shoot blue lines of Styrofoam at one another from cans of Silly String.
His mamm laughed as a bit of string stuck to her dark hair. Her brown eyes glistened, and drops trickled down her cheeks when she smiled. “I’m very blessed to have them.” She touched a hand to his face. “And you, Isaac, and Mary.”
John didn’t believe her. She’d had difficulties with her last pregnancy and not only lost the baby but also her ability to bear any more children, a disappointment that any woman would feel, but for an Amish woman it meant losing your foremost identity under Gott. “Having me makes up for four more, so the numbers all worked out right.”
She smiled a real smile and hugged him into her side. “What do you hear from Annie?”
John’s parents thought a lot of Annie and had been heartbroken when she left. Just like the others who knew why she was leaving, they’d been surprised she hadn’t been born to the Beilers. They weren’t to talk about such things and went on with their lives, ju
st as the Beilers had.
“I don’t.” He hoped that was the end of it. He hadn’t told them that he didn’t know whether Annie would return, that something in his heart told him she wouldn’t as the weeks dragged on. If she did find her birth mother, the Annie he knew and loved wouldn’t leave her; she would want to know her and be her family, or part of it, if she had her own. There was also the fact that she mentioned feeling that she was different, not accepted as she once had been in the community. But John knew this impression was coming from her and no one else.
His mamm didn’t look up. “Do you know how to reach her?”
“I’m sure Sarah has the information, but I haven’t asked for it.”
Now Mamm turned to her son. “But why?”
John let out a long breath, wondering the same thing. What was he scared of? Or worried over the most? Losing her was foremost in his mind, and he had to admit he might be a tad envious that she was out in a world with so much to do and see, and his life was going along the same as always. It troubled him that she hadn’t tried to reach him. Abraham surely would have let him know if he’d received a letter. And part of it might be just plain jealousy. He vaguely remembered the Glicks. They had two children, one a young man about Annie’s age. Another face of jealousy raged within him.
“Lots of reasons.” He didn’t want his mother to fret about things over which neither of them had control. He didn’t even like talking to her about Annie.
Mamm pressed her lips together. “If you haven’t heard from her, this could go very badly.” He refused to make eye contact. “Are you prepared for that, son?”
He nodded slightly and moved forward, not wanting to continue the conversation. She walked next to him in silence, for which he was grateful. John climbed up into one of the wagons and began handing the goods to Isaac and his mother, who took as much as she could carry and hollered to the boys to come over and help. Once both wagons were unloaded, they walked to the grounds to set up a booth and arranged the goods on and around two tables, with a board behind them to display the quilts.
