Amish Heart and Soul

by Rachel Stoltzfus

  “Well, supper’s finally on the table. It’s about time!”

  Lizzie resisted the urge to look at the wall clock. She knew supper was on the table before five p.m. They had gotten home from errands not an hour and a half before and started on supper and cleaning just as soon as they walked in. “Ja, Wayne, it is on the table. One of your favorites.”

  “Denki. It smells gutt.” After offering a silent prayer, Wayne dug into a large cut of Swiss steak. On his plate, he piled a large serving of mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes and gravy. After eating two large servings, he leaned back in his chair, sighed and drank his tea down in three gargantuan gulps.

  Lizzie, eating her own supper, remembered Wayne from their courtship. He had been quiet and intense, but so much more open back then. While he had always been wary of allowing her to work outside the home, he hadn’t been so dogmatic about it. She jumped as she heard Wayne’s voice.

  “Lizzie! Where are you? In that shop?”

  “Nee, I was remembering our courtship, actually.”

  Lizzie’s response threw Wayne. He hadn’t expected that. “Oh? What do you remember?”

  “. . . “How much fun we had, how much we laughed. How I came to love you.”

  Wayne was surprised. “Oh! Well. . . I remember the same things. You were so shy, I was never sure I’d get two words out of you. I had to work for a giggle.”

  Lizzie blushed, looking down. “My brothers had already grown up and gotten married by the time I came along, so I was only used to having my sisters in the house.”

  “Ja, I remember. I also remember that, when I came to pick you up on Easter Sunday, your brothers were there. . . and they made it very clear that I would not hurt you. If I had. . .”

  “I remember. Would you like some peach cobbler with ice cream?”

  “Well, you went all out! Ja, I would.” After receiving his plate of dessert, Wayne thanked Lizzie. “To what do I owe this wunderbaar supper?”

  “I remember you said the other day you had a hankering for Swiss steak, the fixings and for peach cobbler. I put it on the menu for today.”

  “Well, denki.” Wayne had enjoyed every bite of supper, but now he began to wonder just why Lizzie had chosen these items for their supper. Maybe she’s trying to fool me before she leaves. I can’t let her go back to work anywhere. Ja, she makes quilts and sells them to the store. . . maybe she should stop that as well. My income is more than sufficient. He promised that, after supper and devotions, he would discuss this with her. Indeed, after Leora went out with Vernon, Wayne tracked Lizzie down, finding her in her quilting room. “Wife, do you have just a few minutes?”

  Lizzie sighed quietly. She was under a tight deadline for this quilt. Her customer wanted it before the weekend. “Ja, what is it, Wayne?”

  “I’ve been thinking. My income as a carpenter is going up quarter by quarter. I’m getting many orders. More than I did even a year ago. I think we can plan easily for you to stay at home. Who knows? Eventually, you may be able to stop sewing quilts for the English and for Annie’s. . . shop.” Wayne had to make himself say that word.

  Lizzie looked closely at Wayne. He didn’t appear to be angry. His shoulders were relaxed and she didn’t see his eyes glowering out at her from beneath his bushy brows. “Well, we can talk. But what happens if you have some kind of accident? Carpentry can be dangerous and, if you cut yourself, you could be out of work for some time. If that happens—and I pray sincerely that it won’t—we will need what I can earn.”

  “Lizzie, I am careful not to be hurt. My income is more than sufficient for our needs. Our bills are paid and we have nearly paid off the loan for my carpentry equipment. You will be staying home. Keep quilting from home, but at some point, I will require you to stop selling your quilts.” So he wouldn’t hear her objections, Wayne left before she could frame an argument.

  Lizzie sat in front of her quilt, mouth open. She was stunned. A part of her was genuinely puzzled as well. She saw fear in her husband’s eyes while he was delivering his ultimatum. Fear? Why would that be? Setting her scissors down, she began to walk around her quilting room, thinking. Then she remembered what he said about his mamm leaving when he was a child. My Gott! He is afraid of me leaving, but why? Well, I just need to let him know that I will never leave him. And that I work because I enjoy contributing to our family. With that decision made, Lizzie went in search of Wayne. She found him relaxing on the back porch swing, drinking a glass of iced tea. “Husband, I am really confused. You want me to promise that I won’t ever work in Annie’s quilt shop again and you even want me to stop selling my quilts in the future.” She sat next to him on the swing, something she would soon regret. “When you were telling me this, I saw a certain expression on your face and I remembered your mamm. That she left when you were just a boy. Wayne, I love you and I would never leave you! All I am doing by selling my quilts is helping to build our. . .”

  “WIFE! You heard me and my decisions are final! Now, I am being generous by saying you can continue to make quilts here at home and sell them through the shop. I can just change my mind and say you won’t sell any of your quilts anymore, beginning today. Would you like that?” Hmmm?”

  “Nee! I am working on a quilt for a customer and she wants it before this weekend. She’s already paid her deposit and will pay the balance when I deliver the quilt to. . .”

  “Then you need to remember that I am the head of this household. Don’t question me! You will not go back to work at Annie’s store. Count yourself fortunate that am not making you stop that quilt for your customer tonight! I am upset. I’ll be in the shop, calming down.” Wayne stalked off, hurrying to his carpentry shop.

  Lizzie ran upstairs, feeling afraid of Wayne and his temper. Before she did so, she said one word: “Ban, Wayne.” Slamming the kitchen door, she ran upstairs.

  ***

  In his shop, Wayne stalked around, trying to get control of his temper. Finally, feeling his heartbeat slowing down, he turned to the decorative edging he was working on for an English customer of his own. Unfortunately, he was still angry enough that he wasn’t paying attention to safety precautions—or the narrowing distance between his arm, hand and the router saw. Guiding the length of lumber through the saw, he felt the saw’s edge biting into the skin, muscles, ligaments, tendons and bones of his right hand and forearm. Letting out a blood-curdling howl, he closed his eyes against the overwhelming, searing pain. Hissing his breath in and out from between his clenched teeth, he reached over to the side of the router and switched the router into reverse. This had the effect of pushing his bloody, mangled hand and arm backward. As soon as it was free, he shut the router off with his trembling left hand.

  Looking at the torn-up skin, muscle and bone, Wayne swayed, feeling sick. Dark spots danced and shivered in front of his half-closed eyes. Grabbing a shop cloth, he tried to wrap it around his arm to stanch the flow of blood. Stumbling out of the shop, he shambled to the house, calling Lizzie’s name. Once he was on the porch, he fell into the kitchen. “Lizzie! Lizzie, help me! I’m hurt!”

  Upstairs, Lizzie heard Wayne’s frightened voice. But she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth and she was afraid of getting hurt if he was trying to fool her. A few minutes later, she went slowly downstairs, looking for Wayne in the living room, hallway and kitchen. “Wayne? Where are you?” Her steps were slow and reluctant.

  “Here! In the kitchen. . .” Wayne’s voice wavered and sounded close to tears. By now, he was slumped on the floor, against the back door. He held his left hand around his right hand and arm, which were both soaked in blood.

  Lizzie gasped. Rushing to Wayne’s side, she grabbed several clean dish towels, which she wrapped around his arm, heedless of the pain it might cause him. “Husband! What happened? Wait. Tell me on the way to the hospital. I have to go to the phone house and call a driver. I’ll be right back.” Racing outside, she hurried to the phone tree two houses away. She called a driver she had hired before. “Kevin, I
hope you have the time to help us! My husband just hurt himself in his carpentry shop. . . ja, this is Lizzie Lapp. You know where we live. Can you take us to the emergency room?”

  “Yes! I’ll be there in just about ten minutes. Stop his bleeding! Go!”

  “Ja, denki!” Dropping the phone back into its cradle, Lizzie ran back into the house, pulling her skirt close to her knees. Back in the house, she saw that Wayne was more pale than he had been a few minutes ago. His eyes were half-closed and he was slow to respond to her questions. She grabbed his arm and applied pressure, ignoring Wayne’s weak growls of pain. The time seemed to walk by at the speed of a giant tortoise. Finally, hearing the beep of a car horn, she wrapped one arm around Wayne’s back and urged him up. “Hold your arm so I can lock the door and get you down the porch stairs.” She needed her driver to help get Wayne down the steps and into his car.

  “Lock your house and come back. He really needs help.” Kevin extended the seat belt, latching it on Wayne’s other side, securing him to the seat. “Sit in the back with your husband.” He hurried to town and the community hospital, driving just over the posted speed limits. At the hospital, he parked and helped Lizzie get him into the emergency room. “I’ll wait here for when you are ready to go home. Mrs. Lapp, I’m a retired EMT. He’s going to be in the hospital for a while. With that blood loss, he probably has some torn tendons and ligaments.”

  Kevin was right. After taking several X-rays and ultrasounds, the emergency room doctor decided that Wayne needed to be admitted for surgery to repair his arm. “Mrs. Lapp, what was he doing? It looks like he ran his arm through a saw!”

  “That’s just what he did. He wanted to get some more work done for a customer, so after supper, he went back into his shop. I don’t know exactly how he did it. . . can I see him?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “He’s passed out from the blood loss and pain. Besides, we need to get him into surgery right away. I do want to say that you prevented the possibility of infection. You acted quickly by wrapping his arm up. I suggest you go home and rest tonight. He’s going to be in surgery for a few hours and it’s already late.” The doctor looked out the entrance. He was right—full dark had fallen and the parking lot lights had recently come on. “You can come back tomorrow morning and talk to his surgeon or me. Just leave his doctor’s contact information with the triage desk and we will take care of updating them on what happened tonight.”

  Lizzie sighed. She was worn out. Hearing the doctor’s competence coming through in his words, she was able to relax. “Okay. Thank you, yes. I will come back tomorrow. Will you be on duty tomorrow morning?”

  “No, but ask at the front desk for your husband’s room. The nurses on that floor will get his doctor so they can bring you up to date on his condition.” The doctor placed his hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Go home now. Do you have a ride?”

  “Ja, that gentleman with the gray cap right there.”

  “Ah, Kevin! Thank you for helping!” The doctor, with a broad smile on his face, strode over to the waiting Kevin, shaking his hand with energy.

  “You’re welcome, doc! I’m going to get Mrs. Lapp home. If she has any children still at home, they’re probably wondering what’s going on.”

  “Oh! Leora! Ja, I need to get home! Denki!” Lizzie hurried out with Kevin. She gave him a twenty-dollar bill when he pulled up in front of her house. “Nee, Kevin. Please, take this. You came out on a summer evening, when you could have been relaxing with your family. And you saved my husband.”

  Reluctantly, Kevin accepted the money. “Let me know if you need any more rides to the hospital.”

  “I will. Denki.” She hurried back into her house, calling for Leora. No answer. “So she’s still out with Vernon, thank Gott.” She hurried to clean up the blood, as tired as she was. Wringing the cloth out in the sink and rinsing it, she heard Leora’s key in the front door. “Leora!”

  “Ja, mamm? What happened? What’s that blood there?”

  “Mrs. Lapp? What happened?” Vernon had come in with Leora.

  “Leora, your daed had a carpentry accident.” She explained Wayne’s accident to Leora and Vernon.

  “I’ll go straighten out and clean the shop then lock it. “Vernon had an armful of old towels with him as he hurried out the back door. In the carpentry shop, he found large blotches of drying blood. Wetting the towels, he hurried to clean the floor, benches and machinery so they wouldn’t stain. Looking around, he saw a length of lumber, lying askew on a router. “Ach, so this is where his accident happened.” Vernon carefully removed the lumber from the router and closely inspected it. Seeing large splatters of blood on the wood, he tried to clean it, but quickly realized the blood had ruined it. “Nee. This wood is no gutt anymore. It has to be cut up or thrown away. I will put it over here and Mr. Lapp can make that decision when he is able.” Looking around the shop one last time, he ascertained that everything else was in order. He locked the door, ensuring it was secure from the outside. “Mrs. Lapp, all is done in the shop. I cleaned the blood up and swept up leftover sawdust and put that in the barrel outside. Where do you store your dirty laundry?” He went into the laundry room and spread the still-wet cloths into a tub of hot water.

  “Denki, Vernon, let me put bleach in there so the blood will be washed away.”

  “Mrs. Lapp, how bad is your husband’s injury?”

  “Bad. He ripped and tore the muscles and ligaments. His hand, wrist and arm are broken, so he will be out of work for some time. He will be in the hospital for several days.”

  “Not to mention, physical therapy.”

  Lizzie nodded, feeling somewhat calmer. “Ja. Would you like some tea? I made snickerdoodles yesterday. Have some.”

  “Denki.” Vernon took a large bite of the delectable cookie. After swallowing, he spoke his thoughts. “Daed and I can go visit him while he’s in the hospital to find out what orders he is working on. We’ll find out what he has coming up as well. If his injuries are really as bad as all that, he will need us to help him meet his orders so he doesn’t lose customers.”

  Lizzie’s heart slowed down some, hearing Vernon. “Ja, he will. Denki, Vernon.”

  Leora had been thinking. “Mamm, do you think you’ll have to go back to the shop to earn money?”

  Lizzie sighed. She hadn’t wanted to think about this, knowing how Wayne felt about her even working from home. “Ja, I will. It’s almost for sure and for certain that I’ll have to do so, so we don’t fall behind on our bills. Taking quilts and selling on consignment won’t be enough, even though Annie is giving me such a wunderbaar consignment percentage. Your daed won’t like it. . .”

  Vernon looked at Leora and shook his head. “Mrs. Lapp, if he doesn’t want to lose what he has, he will have to agree to your working in the shop. I will let daed know about that so that, when your husband is alert, daed can remind him that he is not to try to force you to stay at home.”

  Lizzie’s shaking was back. She knew that it would get bad with Wayne, his beliefs and his temper. Nodding, she swallowed hard several times, trying to keep the tears from bursting forth. Beginning to pace through the kitchen, she felt better. “Denki, Vernon. I am very tired, Leora. I’m going to go to bed. Would you and Vernon lock the house up when he goes home?”

  “Ja, we will, mamm. Go to bed and pray.” Leora gave Lizzie a strong hug, trying to communicate all her support and love to her mamm.

  Upstairs, Lizzie undressed and slipped quickly into her lightweight, long nightgown. Taking her hair out of its braided bun, she ran her brush through the long tresses. Before she went to bed, she hurried into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, forcing her sobs back the whole time. Practically running back into her room, she closed the door and blew out the lantern. Falling face-first onto her bed, she buried her face deep into her pillow. She didn’t want Leora to her crying. The hot scalding tears and throat-ripping sobs were quick to come. Her pillow was quickly drenched. Then, Lizzie heard a soft, quiet voice.


  “Gott has everything under control. It is going just as He wants it to go.”

  Lizzie sat up, muting her sobs and wiping her face dry with her sheet. Rising from the bed, she walked to the opened window, praying with everything she had. “Gott, we need your help. Wayne needs your help. He was badly hurt and won’t be able to work for quite a while. You know this means I have to go back to the shop to earn what we need to keep our household functioning. Please give Wayne the insight and good sense to stay away from me as I work to keep our family above water. And please, Gott, don’t let him hit me!” Lizzie’s tears began to fall down her cheeks again as she thinks of what Wayne could do to her and Leora.

  ***

  In town, Wayne remained in the hospital, recovering from his accident and the subsequent surgeries he needed. In his accident, he had sliced deep into his hand and forearm, ripping and tearing several tendons, arteries, ligaments and muscles. First, the doctors wanted to forestall the possibility of infection, then operate on his hand and arm to repair the damage he had done with the router.

  Wayne had several hours every day on his hands. Not believing in television, he never turned the TV set on in his hospital room. Instead, he sat, thought, read his Bible and prayed. Knowing just how close he came to losing his lower arm, he realized just how instrumental Lizzie was in helping him to save it. He was grateful for her quick actions that night. It was this knowledge that helped him to stay calm when she came to him in the hospital and told him that, out of financial necessity, she had accepted an offer of employment from Annie Miller. “Ja, that’s fine. Hannes and Vernon can only work for so long on my orders. I don’t know if customers will continue to place orders while I am unable to work.”

  “Wayne, if they do, I will take the messages and speak to Deacon King. Maybe we can arrange something so you don’t lose customers. . . and orders.”