The Narrow Path

by Gail Sattler

  Miranda sighed as she watched the taillights of his car disappear around the corner, then closed the door without locking it. Here, she didn't need to.

  Of all the people she had known in her lifetime, Ted was the most stuffy and the most reserved, and definitely the most predictable. Yet the combination also made him the most reliable and the most trustworthy. Even though he drove her crazy most of the time, she understood why so many of the single women, including those who were the closer friends she had made since her arrival, had their eye on him with marriage in mind.

  She had no idea why he didn't seem interested, especially since he was a couple of years older than she was. But then in this community, the second he decided it was time for him to get married, there would be a lineup around the block, each woman loaded down with armfuls of food. And for those who knew him best, a package of good guitar strings.

  Thinking of the need to feed him, Miranda headed to the fridge before she made her way to the piano. This time she only had the distraction of her own thoughts, without needing to teach piano lessons, so today she could prepare something for the men that needed more attention than the usual fare.Besides, she had been stockpiling many of the same staples that she had at home, so she was now more comfortable in Ted's kitchen. Yet she doubted that he looked past the first row of the top shelf of his fridge when she wasn't there.

  If not, then this was going to be a surprise.

  By the time Ted and Brian arrived, Miranda was ready. She hadn't actually composed any music, but she did have some base melody lines and themes, and in her head, she could hear Sarah's voice singing the female lead and Ted's voice singing the male lead.

  "Have you accomplished what you set out to do?" Ted asked before he'd even removed his hat.

  Miranda nodded so fast her hair bounced. "Yes!"

  Ted reached to hang his hat on the peg beside the door."Can I hear it?"

  She shook her head so fast a lock smacked her in the eyes. "No!"

  Brian smirked as he began to unbutton his coat. "Now that we have this established, what is for supper? Something smells zehr gut, although I am no longer going to ask if it is something my mama makes."

  "Brian, when are you getting married?"

  Both men froze. She wondered if Ted was even breathing.

  "I . . . have not thought about it," Brian stammered. "Probably within two years." He pressed one hand to his chest, over his heart. "But if you are asking me, it could be sooner."

  She couldn't be positive, but Miranda was almost sure Ted rolled his eyes.

  "Why are you asking me this?"

  "Curiosity."

  Ted's eyes narrowed. "You are not going to use this in your play, are you?"

  Miranda shook her head. "Of course not. But maybe that's not a bad idea . . ." She turned and dashed off to the piano, where she had been making her notes.

  Brian's voice lowered, but she still heard him. "She would not, would she?"

  She stopped writing, waiting longer than she thought she should have, for Ted's reply.

  "No."

  She resumed writing and was interrupted before she had finished her sentence by Ted appearing in the doorway.

  She waved her left hand in the air, then kept writing. "Don't look at me like that. A little happily-ever-after would be the perfect finishing touch. Everyone loves a happy ending."

  "The happy ending is the joy of the birth of Christ."

  "Of course it is. But there is a plot besides the Christmas story, you know. That's what's going to appeal to the guests.For the most part, as long as we appeal mostly to the women, the men will come."

  "This must appeal to the men as much as the ladies."

  "It will, but we don't have the budget to include high-speed racing and car crashes."

  Ted's mouth opened, but no sound came out.

  "That was a joke. Not really. Seriously, I've got to present something that can be done with a very simple stage set, and that means a quiet and low level of action. You've got to trust me."

  "You say this often."

  "I guess I do," she muttered, then stuck her tongue between her teeth as she finished writing her thoughts. "That's it," she said as she stood. "Now it's time to get supper on the table and talk about Easter Sunday."

  13

  As Ted adjusted the music stand in front of him, the church fell silent. Somehow, in just a few days, word had spread.

  When trying to decide on which hymn to do as a quartet, Miranda expressed her opinion that she didn't want to do one that everyone in the congregation knew. He didn't know why Brian agreed with her, but once he said so, both Sarah and Elaine did as well. His protests that he had no music in his library for an Easter service meant nothing. Using his computer, Miranda happily went onto the Internet and found a song she promised would be easy to learn.

  She was right, but he refused to admit it.

  However, this wasn't the time to feel dissatisfied. This was the time to worship his Lord and Savior.

  He looked up at the congregation. For the first time since he could remember, there were no empty seats near the front on either the right or the left side. The only empty seat in the front half of the church was the third row aisle seat, formerly on the ladies' side, next to Miranda.

  Without an introduction, Ted strummed one chord on his guitar, the four of them hummed their opening note, then began to sing.

  At the end of the song, a collective hush filled the room, finally broken by some "amens," and a few sniffles. He tried not to show his surprise that Miranda wasn't the only woman with tears in her eyes. Instead, he turned back to his music stand, uncovering his hymnal.

  "Please turn with me to page 107, and we will sing 'Christ the Lord Is Risen Today.' "

  Brian, Sarah, and Elaine returned to the congregation after the singing had begun, the sound of melody occasionally broken by some people blowing their noses. This also was something none of them had ever experienced until the arrival of Miss Randi with an "i."

  Pastor Jake took his place at the front at the end of the worship time. "Thank you for sharing in that special way.Everyone, please turn in your Bibles to Luke 24:50."

  As he took his seat, Miranda leaned toward him. "You all sounded wonderful up there. You did great. Thank you."

  "We did not do it for you. We did it for our Savior."

  She winced. "Of course. Thanks for the reminder."

  He waited while Miranda opened her purse, but this time, in addition to pulling out her cell phone, she took out a strangelooking pen.

  "What are you doing with that? I thought you took your sermon notes in your cell phone. Do you think you will again lose your data?"

  Miranda shook her head, pressed a button on the pen, then rested it on a bare spot on the pew between them. "No. Shh.I'm recording, so don't talk."

  He looked down at the pen. "Recording?"

  "Shh. Pastor said he was going to do a really different Easter Sunday sermon. He's going to talk a little about redemption and then relate it to the book of Revelation. I'm recording this for Daddy."

  "I have seen this pen before." His mind whirled as he struggled to remember. "You had this same one at your first church board meeting."

  "That's right. Now please be quiet. I want to pick up Pastor Jake, not you."

  Ted ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached. At the meeting she had asked if she could take notes, so he had been aware of being recorded. Just not in this way. Apparently, she did not have a photographic memory after all.

  Just knowing about the recording device between them distracted him from Pastor's words. Like the previous week, every time Pastor Jake mentioned a Bible verse, Miranda's cell phone appeared between them, but this time he was careful to remain silent even when she flipped the page too soon. The longer he sat, the more uncomfortable he became, until his left leg fell asleep. All he had to do was move, but he could not, lest the sound of the rustle of his clothing would be picked up by the microphone beside him.


  Even as a child sitting through an hour-long sermon, he'd never been so relieved when the sermon was over. He hobbled up to the front to close the service with the final hymn.

  Behind the podium, he tapped his foot while the prickly sensation subsided. "Let us end with page 109, 'I Serve a Risen Savior.' "

  The last resonant chord had barely faded when people from the congregation began moving forward instead of exiting the sanctuary.

  Sarah was the first to arrive.

  "Ted, many people in the congregation think we should sing like this again. I agree with them."

  Brian appeared behind her. "Yes. Others have asked if they may join our choir."

  Ted shook his head. "But we do not have a choir."

  Brian grinned. "It appears that we do now. Which night is practice night, and what song are we going to sing next Sunday?"

  He forced himself not to grind his teeth. "I think you should go ask Miranda."

  Sarah grinned from ear to ear. "I will do that. I know she will listen to me."

  Before Ted could say that he had his doubts about that, Sarah dashed off and Brian moved closer. "Well, my friend, it appears that we must expand the music selection in your library. Which I happen to know consists only of our own Mennonite hymnal and hymnals from other denominations that you purchased while you were away at college."

  Instead of looking at Brian, Ted was watching Sarah talking to Miranda so excitedly that she was waving her arms as she spoke. "I do not have time to go to the cities to look for music."He turned his attention back to his friend. "This means I must use the Internet, as Miranda has done to find the song we sang this morning."

  Brian nodded. "Ja. I have been using the Internet more since Miranda has come to us. She has shown me much I did not know about shopping with my computer. Instead of paying money for long distance phone calls when I need parts for my shop, I am now shopping using the Internet. Most of the time I have been able to save money by comparing prices. She has also given me other ideas."

  Ted squeezed his eyes shut. Their community and lifestyle had been changing for years, but since Miranda had arrived, the changes were coming faster.

  Before he could respond, a few of the men from the congregation arrived to stand beside Brian. Ted nodded in greeting, then turned to Frank, who stood closest.

  "Good morning, Ted. I wanted to tell you that the song with the four of you singing made this Easter service very special."

  "Thank you."

  "Susan has heard that we will now have a choir at our church. She wants to join, and so do I."

  Ted looked up. Women now surrounded Miranda, many talking at once, and one of them was Frank's wife.

  "It appears that is so. You are welcome to join."

  "When will the first practice be?"

  Ted kept watching Miranda as some of the women's husbands joined the circle of people around her. "I cannot say. But from the look of things, Miranda is deciding that right now."

  Frank stiffened. "Miranda? Then who is leading the men's choir?"

  "There will be only one choir for both the men and the women."

  "A woman is leading the choir?"

  Once again, Ted caught himself grinding his teeth. If he'd had time to think of this, he would have realized that many men would have difficulty with a woman leading a group of mixed gender. He was one of very few men in their community who had frequent dealings with the rest of the country outside their own community, and that meant he was accustomed to women in management positions. But for people the age of his parents, like Frank, most dealings were in their small town, where it had only been within the past five years that women had dealings with business outside their homes. They had never experienced a woman in leadership, much less in their church.

  From his own experience, he suspected that many of the businesses who supplied Frank and Susan's store deliberately chose a man to deal with Frank when he called. He didn't know if that had made things better or worse.

  He lifted his guitar to slip the strap off his shoulder, then held the guitar in front of him. "We are both leading the choir, but Miranda will be the one to direct the singers, because only one person can do that at a time. Miranda and I will decide together which evening is the best for the group to assemble."

  As Frank walked away, the other men, all of whom had heard the conversation, nodded and left as well, leaving Ted standing alone beside the podium. He sighed and turned to tuck the guitar back into its case. To be honest, he liked the idea of having a choir, and even if he were not the worship leader, he probably would have joined the choir himself.

  The zipper on the guitar bag was only halfway done when Miranda's voice sounded behind him. "Ted? I think we need to talk."

  He turned. "Ja. We do. But today is Easter Sunday, and I will be joining Onkel Bart and Tante Odelle after the service."

  "Uh, yeah . . . about that . . ." Her voice trailed off as Tante Odelle came forward from the crowd.

  "Did you tell him, my dear?" Ted froze. Turning to Ted, she said, "Your Onkel and I, we have not been able to talk to Miranda, and you spend so much time together. We have already asked Leonard and Lois, and we have their permission.Miranda will be joining us for our Easter dinner today. We will be having a big ham and your favorite Easter treat!" She turned to Miranda. "He loves chocolate eggs rolled in coconut," she said with a wink, her voice lowered. She smiled and rested her arm around Miranda's shoulders, then turned back to Ted."Brian tells us of the good healthy suppers she cooks for you, so I have been eager to learn her good recipes."

  Miranda's cheeks turned pink. "She wants my secret recipe for Shake 'N Bake chicken with oven-baked fries."

  Ted tried not to choke. "Ja. There is no trans fat." He sighed."I will be a few minutes. I have some things to put away."

  "Take your time," Tante Odelle said, still smiling. "Miranda will be coming home with us. We will talk."

  Miranda leaned over the table, glanced quickly at Ted over her shoulder, then finished drawing the notes on the poster board. "These are the technical vocal ranges for the soprano, alto, tenor, and bass voices, and I'm going to do each one in a different color." In her best legible handwriting, she wrote the names of everyone who had come out for choir in the colors of their vocal ranges. "Remind me, we have to get Pastor to call someone to get the piano tuned. This is really good timing that so many people want to be in the choir. Everyone can get used to singing on stage nice and early, way before we have to start the Christmas play. Are you going to audition?"

  "No. What exactly did Tante Odelle say about me on Sunday when I was not there?"

  "Not much. She just told me all the embarrassing things you did as a child. I didn't realize Hank could sing so well. Did you? Do you think he'll want to be in the drama?"

  "Ja. Just like at the school, he likes to be a good example to his students. As a teacher, he also will not be shy in front of people." Ted leaned forward, resting his palms on the tabletop."I did not do anything embarrassing. I was a good student and a hard worker. I think it was you who did the embarrassing things during your time in public school."

  "I was a straight-A student until twelfth grade." She bit back a smile and tapped her pencil on Brian's name. "Brian is the only true bass, but you have quite a low voice when you speak.Are you really a tenor, or do you just sing tenor because it's the same range as most of the other men?"

  Ted stood straight, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is not important. I do not wish to sing for the Christmas play. I sing at the front every Sunday. What is important is what Tante Odelle said to you about me."

  Miranda sighed. "It was just girl talk. Okay?" Still bent at the waist to write, she moved her head to look up at him, hovering above her. "She hasn't seen as much of you as before, and she wanted to make sure you were eating okay."

  His eyebrows arched. "That does not make sense. Lois is a very good cook, and you are very sure not to feed me trans fats, so I am eating well." He rested his hands on his stomach
."Maybe I am eating a little too well."

  Miranda stood and watched Ted as he struggled to figure out what was so important about his aunt's concern about how he was being fed. It was more than just a question about Ted eating well. Odelle had wanted to know that Ted was happy, and to her, a big part of being happy was being married.Miranda had no answer as to why Ted was still single. She had been here long enough to see that most, if not all, of the single women his age wanted to marry him. She paused. "She also thought that lately you've been looking a little stressed."

  "Stressed?"

  "She didn't exactly say it that way. She said that whenever you go there for supper you're either in a hurry or you seem tired. She is worried that your uncle has given you too much responsibility at the furniture factory, and it's been putting too much strain on you lately."

  "It is not too much strain. I have been busier lately, but it is not from the factory. I am fine."

  Despite his aunt's concern, he really did seem fine, and he certainly didn't ever seem unhappy. The only fault she could really see with him was that once he got something in his head, he became focused to the point of excluding anything else.

  "I'm sorry to get you involved in the choir. I really didn't plan this."

  "But it worked very much in your favor."

  "Yes, it did. If you don't mind, I think that we should also start the auditioning process. The earlier we start, the more time it gives me to write a production that will suit everyone involved to their own individual strengths."

  "I am not so sure of this. I do not think it is the right thing to do."

  Miranda sighed. "We have to start somewhere. I just wish I could give Sarah the lead part, but I can't."

  Ted nodded. "Ja. It is too bad, because she sings so beautifully.She was fine during the Easter song, but today when we asked her to sing even one line by herself, she could not do it."