An Amish Buggy Ride

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An Amish Buggy Ride Page 9

by Sarah Price


  As if reading her mind, Samuel answered the question for her. “Last time I saw him was after the funeral,” he explained. “Seems so long ago, ja?”

  Kate shut her eyes. She didn’t want to think about the funeral. The haunting memory of the sorrowful faces as the people single-filed past the simple pine coffin, the hinged lid folded back so that only Ruth’s face was exposed, stayed with her. And then the scene at the graveyard . . .

  She shook her head, as if to wipe the memory away before she turned back to Samuel. “That was nice to stop by to see him,” she managed to say, forcing a smile despite the urge she felt to ask him to bring her home. She knew that her daed spoke the truth when he’d insisted it was time for her to get out and return to socializing with the other youth in the g’may.

  Samuel stared at her, a strange look on his face. She wondered what he was thinking, but she did not ask.

  He guided the horse and buggy down the road, taking a deep breath. “Sure am glad you came along.”

  She didn’t know how to respond.

  “Much nicer to have some company.”

  She wasn’t certain that she was great company. She didn’t know what to say; she couldn’t exactly say aloud that she hadn’t wanted to join him, anyway. “Danke for asking me along,” she said, trying to remember her manners.

  He smiled. “I was driving by your daed’s farm and thought to myself, ‘Now, wouldn’t it be nice to see if Kate Zook might want to accompany me when I go fishing?’ It’s so much nicer to have someone to talk to besides myself. Doing too much of that lately. One-sided conversations are boring after a while.”

  She wondered if he was hinting that he no longer saw Ella Riehl. She had already figured that he had ended his courtship with Ella. After all, he had walked home with her, not Ella, after the singing. While Kate initially wondered when he had broken it off from Ella, she now had an even bigger question: Why? She wished she could ask someone, perhaps Verna or Katie Ellen, but she didn’t feel that was appropriate. Time would tell, she told herself.

  When the buggy stopped alongside the river, Kate took a moment to enjoy the view. Hints of fresh green growth were bringing color to the brown grass scattered along the riverbank. With the sun shining in the sky, it felt like spring, even if it did not look like it. Kate thought she saw the tops of daffodils poking through the dirt on the other side of the riverbank. A robin swooped down from the bare trees, its red breast proud and round as it dipped its beak into the dirt, most likely looking for a worm. Kate wondered if it was a female or male. It was too far away for her to identify properly.

  “You coming?”

  She returned her attention to the moment. While she’d been daydreaming, he’d retrieved the fishing gear and now held it in his hands, waiting for her to join him.

  Several other Amish youths sat around a picnic table just a few yards away from the parking lot. Kate recognized all of them, including Samuel’s brother, John, and lifted her hand to greet them. One of the young women bounced up and hurried over to Kate, reaching out to grasp her hand.

  “I’m so glad you came, Kate!”

  Kate smiled in response. It was always a pleasure to see Esther, although seeing her did bring back memories of that fateful night. If Kate hadn’t been at her house that night, requiring David to come and pick her up, perhaps the whole accident never would have happened.

  “Come sit over here while the boys get their rods ready.”

  “Esther!” One of the young men looked up from his tackle box, a surprised look on his face. “Aren’t you planning on fishing at all, then?”

  “Oh, John! You know I’m squeamish about those squiggly worms!” Laughing, Esther looked back at Kate. “I’d rather just enjoy the sun, wouldn’t you?”

  In truth, Kate didn’t mind the worms. When she was younger, she’d always enjoyed fishing with her older brother. Back in those days, sometimes David joined them, too. One summer, Thomas even taught her how to hook the worm just right so that it wouldn’t fall off in the current. But she didn’t want to seem too proud by saying that.

  “Sitting in the sun is rather nice,” Kate admitted.

  Samuel didn’t seem to mind that she joined the other young women at the picnic table. He carried his rod and tackle box down to the stream, joining two other young men who already stood there, lines in the water, sun on their backs.

  “Been quite a winter,” Esther said. “Heard your daed’s barn roof collapsed from the snow.” She directed the comment to a young woman, Sylvia Yoder, sitting on the other side of the table.

  “Ja, it sure did.”

  This was news to Kate! She hadn’t heard about damage to the Yoders’ barn. Although they lived in the same church district, their farm was farther away. She wondered when it happened but felt too embarrassed to ask. How could she not have known about this? After all, Sylvia’s onkel’s family lived next to the Zooks’ farm!

  “How about you, Kate?” Esther shifted her weight, facing Kate directly. “It’s been a rough winter for your family, I know. Is David getting any better?”

  And there it was. The question that lingered over everyone’s head, but until now remained unasked. The question that Kate dreaded. The reason she avoided attending youth gatherings. The reminder that she could have prevented that tragedy from ever happening.

  “I . . . I really prefer not to talk about it,” she whispered.

  Placing her hand on Kate’s arm, Esther tried to reassure her. “It’s all right to talk about it,” she said. “We all pray for David every night in my family. We also pray for your family as well as Ruth’s.”

  “It was an accident,” Sylvia added solemnly. “But it was also God’s will.”

  Kate hesitated. She grew weary of hearing the same rhetoric about accidents and will. If the members of the community only knew the truth, she thought. God’s will or Satan’s hand? The question haunted her daily, especially when she considered her role. Why had she listened to David? Why hadn’t she told Daed? Why had she insisted upon walking home when she realized that David was drunk? And why hadn’t she insisted that Ruth come with her?

  “Mayhaps I will try my hand at fishing after all,” she said as she stood up and then hurried down to the riverbank.

  Samuel gave her a lopsided grin when she joined him. “Changed your mind, then?” He handed her his pole and took a step back, giving her room to stand closer to the edge of the water. “Thatta girl!”

  His praise startled her. She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. The rod felt stiff and unfamiliar in her hands. It had been years since she last fished with Thomas. Once he’d married Linda, his focus shifted to his work and family, which now also consisted of one boppli, a little boy named Stephen.

  She jiggled the rod, just a touch. Within minutes, the line grew taut and the end of the rod tipped ever so slightly.

  “Hey now!” Samuel exclaimed. “I think you caught something!”

  He seemed genuinely pleased and that, too, caused her to blush. Redirecting her attention to the fishing rod, she carefully reeled in the line, occasionally jerking the rod backward so that the hook would stay in the fish’s mouth. When it broke the water and splashed on the surface, Esther and Sylvia joined them, squealing in delight at the excitement of the first catch of the day.

  “Stream trout,” Samuel announced as he reached for the line to lift the fish out of the water. “Big one at that, too!” He beamed at Kate. “You’re a natural!”

  “No better than anyone else with a worm on a hook, I reckon.” Still, she found herself enjoying the warmth of his compliments as well as the pride in his eyes.

  “Make for a nice supper!”

  “You keep him.” Kate felt it was only fair since she used his gear and his bait.

  Samuel quickly pulled the fish from the hook and placed it in a red cooler. “Mayhaps you’ll catch enough for both famili
es, ain’t so?”

  “Mayhaps,” she responded, wondering why she felt that increasingly familiar flutter inside of her chest when he grinned at her.

  She watched as he hooked the worm onto the line and held her tongue when she wanted to tell him how to do it properly. To her relief, he managed to double hook the worm properly, just the way Thomas had taught her so many years ago. She knew it wouldn’t do to correct him and was pleased that she didn’t have to.

  “There you go,” he said, handing her the rod. “Let’s see how you cast, then!”

  When she cast out the line, he laughed and placed his hand on her shoulder. “My, my! Seems you been fishing before, ain’t so?”

  She nodded.

  “I used to fish with your bruder Thomas.”

  His announcement surprised Kate. “Did you now?”

  He nodded his head. “I reckon he’s the one that taught you?”

  “Ja.” She felt the tension loosen in her body, even when he didn’t remove his hand from her shoulder. The weight of it felt heavy but comforting at the same time. The gentleness of his touch soothed her raw nerves. It had been a long time since she felt such genuine kindness from someone. “Thomas was a good fisherman.”

  “That he was,” Samuel admitted, letting his hand drop from her shoulder. “Reckon he still is but for want of time.”

  Time. The word rang in her head. After Ruth’s funeral, Kate remembered thinking about time and how unpredictable it was. She often lay awake at night, thinking about Ruth’s too-short life. Just the idea of a life cut short made Kate realize how powerless they were in the shadow of God’s plan. Each day needed to be lived and spent honoring God in thought, prayer, and deed.

  During Ruth’s funeral service, the bishop had made a point of specifically preaching about the value of time. He’d proclaimed that everyone should be thankful and praise God for the time shared with each other. He never came right out and said that Ruth was too young to die such an unfortunate death. To do so would be to question God’s will. And that would be very non-Amish.

  Kate, however, had thought it.

  “I reckon we all want for time to have fun,” she finally said. “But too much time invested in fun is not a good thing.”

  He nodded his head, acknowledging the wisdom of her words. “This is true, Kate Zook.” He reached for his own fishing pole, unhooking the J-shaped hook from the line. “But doing nothing fun isn’t a good thing either now, is it?” He knelt down and began fingering through the dirt in the Styrofoam cup at his feet until he pulled out a long earthworm. He wrapped it around and through the hook twice, this time with more confidence, before positioning himself to cast the line into the stream.

  She watched him, her curiosity piqued as he swung the line back and, with precise expertise, snapped the pole toward the water, releasing the line at exactly the right moment so that it sailed over hers. It landed in the center of the stream.

  “Take fishing, for example,” Samuel said casually. He spread his feet and faced the water. “It’s relaxing and fun.” He glanced at her and smiled. “At least to me, anyway.” He returned his attention to the line. “Still, if I’m able to catch enough food to feed my family, well . . . it’s work, too, I reckon. After six long days of helping my daed with the farm chores and field work, it’s nice to take a little break and do something different. Opens my heart and soul to reflect on things.”

  “What kinds of things?” Her voice sounded small as she asked the question.

  He glanced at her once again. “Well, things about life and God and the future.”

  The future? The future was ordained already, the journey already mapped out in a book written and read by God alone. For years, Kate had been told that God had a plan for her future that was already written in that book. It made accepting tragedy easier to handle, that was for sure and certain.

  “Being out here with nature and friends,” Samuel continued. “It sure makes the days of hard work seem more worthwhile, don’t you think?”

  She had never looked at it that way. Rewards for hard work?

  “You look perplexed, Kate.”

  She looked at him, not wanting to question what he said but curious to learn more about his personal philosophy. “That’s just a different perspective from what I’m used to, I reckon.”

  “Different in a good or bad way?”

  She smiled, not certain how to respond. There was something refreshing about Samuel Esh. His positive energy made her feel lighter than she had in recent months. Or maybe it was the fresh air and the fact that she was doing something away from her family, the farm, and work. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Well, you let me know when you figure it out, ja?” He winked and laughed, returning his attention to the fishing rod as it began to jiggle. “Look at that! Another bite! It’s a banner day!” he shouted, reeling in the line.

  By the time the sun began dipping in the sky, an indication that it was time to start heading home for late-afternoon chores, there was enough fish for everyone to take home at least two for their families. Samuel made certain to clean and wrap the fish in newspaper, storing both his and Kate’s in the red cooler he’d brought along just for that purpose.

  “Can’t stand fish smell in the buggy,” he commented as he packed the fish inside of it. He was placing the cooler in the back of the buggy when he lifted out a small cardboard box. “Almost forgot, Kate. Maem sent along some horseradish roots for your maem.”

  Kate frowned. “I just picked up roots the other week, ain’t so?”

  He shrugged. “Guess she had more. Knows how much your maem likes to garden.”

  Kate smiled, knowing her maem would be pleased. On that little plot of land, Maem cultivated her perennials as well herbs for both food and medicinal purposes. Kate often wondered if it just wasn’t her way to escape for a while, to reflect in a place that kinner would not interrupt her while she spoke to God. Or perhaps it was her way to mourn the loss of Jacob’s life through the cultivation and nurturing of plants. After all, she’d started her garden just after Jacob died.

  Kate never asked her maem for details or reasons, respecting the fact that whatever Maem sought in that garden was special to her and certainly not any business of the rest of the family. Kate understood Maem’s need for a respite. She often longed for one, herself.

  After loading the fishing equipment, Samuel helped Kate into the buggy before he untied the horse from the hitching post. He smiled at her as he climbed inside, sitting beside her on the seat. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “Ja, ready.”

  Despite the late hour, he took the longer route home. She didn’t question his motives as she listened to him tell her stories about his family, mostly focusing on Joshua’s antics.

  “What about your family? Any fun stories?” he asked.

  Kate shrugged. “Not lately, that’s for sure and certain.”

  He remained silent, his eyes on the road ahead. The horse trotted in front of the buggy, its tail swishing back and forth, oblivious to the serious nature of the conversation in the buggy it pulled. Finally, Samuel looked at her. “Wallowing in the past is not honoring God,” he said, a serious expression on his face. “Mayhaps it’s time to move forward, ain’t so?”

  What’s done is done . . .

  “Accidents happen, Kate. God’s plan intended for Ruth’s death and for David’s injury.”

  Best to move on . . .

  “There’s no reason that you can’t find fun again.”

  She wished she felt comfortable telling Samuel the entire story. Telling him about that night and David’s drinking. Confessing to her own sins of inaction, which might have saved Ruth’s life. How many nights did she lay awake in bed, trying to understand God’s plan and how she, Kate Zook, had failed him? Those hours, lying in her bed and staring at the ceiling, were her herb garden, her place of re
treat to contemplate the past and worry about the future.

  “Just takes time, I reckon,” she said meekly. “It’s only been four months.”

  “Five months now that it’s April,” he corrected. “And then some.”

  She raised an eyebrow, curious that Samuel remembered the timing of the accident so well. “Five months,” she repeated.

  “So,” he said, his tone suddenly jovial once again as he returned his attention to the road, lifting his hand to wave at a buggy that passed by, headed in the opposite direction. “Tell me something funny about your family, then!”

  She struggled for a few long seconds, trying to think of anything to say. The last thing she wanted was for Samuel to think she was dull and morose, even if her life had felt that way recently. “Well,” she began slowly, searching her memory. “My youngest schwester, Becca . . . she sounds an awful lot like your bruder Joshua.”

  Samuel grinned. “How so?”

  Focusing her thoughts on Becca suddenly made it much easier to talk to Samuel. Slowly at first, Kate began to tell him stories about Becca and her quirky, sassy ways. When he laughed at all of the right places in her stories, she felt encouraged and continued talking. Before she knew it, she was laughing with him and forgetting about the tragedy that lingered over her family home.

  “Why, I’m surprised I haven’t heard Joshua talking about your schwester,” Samuel laughed. “They sound like two peas in a pod. What about your other schwester?”

  “Miriam?” Kate didn’t know what to say about her. “She’s quiet and more reserved. More proper, I reckon. But she is older.”

  “Like you, then?”

  Kate blushed. She didn’t know how to respond. If she said yes, he might think she was boastful. If she said no, he’d think she was not proper. She remained silent instead.

  Obviously noticing her discomfort, he laughed and nudged her gently with his elbow. “Aw, Kate,” he teased. “You don’t have to answer. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

 

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