Even with her nervousness over the horse, she noticed how pretty the Millers’ farm was, nestled back in, off the road.
“Can’t you make him go any slower?” Elma asked as Thelma directed the horse up the driveway. “Look at the dust he’s kicking up behind us. People will think we’re crazy, approaching like this.”
“I’m trying to, but Rusty seems quite excited.”
Elma noticed that her sister was holding the reins pretty tight, and it looked like she was gritting her teeth. Maybe she wasn’t as confident driving this aggravating horse as she’d let on.
“Whoa, Rusty!” The twins called in unison.
Thelma pulled back on the reins, and the horse came to a stop a foot or so from the barn. She looked over at Elma and smiled. “We’re here!”
Elma released a quick breath. “Jah, and thank the Lord we didn’t run into the barn.”
After one of the young men came up to greet them and took Rusty away to be watered and stabled, Elma walked across the yard with Thelma. Several women were clustered outside on the lawn near a large white building that Elma assumed was Mr. Miller’s workshop. A group of men stood chatting in a line on the other side of the shop door.
As the twins were greeted by each of the women, Elma recognized several from the day of their grandparents’ funeral. Sadie Yoder introduced Elma to Lena Chupp and Lena introduced the twins to the other women they didn’t know.
Shortly before nine o’clock, they entered the shop and took their seats. At a quick glance, Elma could see the shop was as neat and orderly inside as it was outside. It had obviously been thoroughly cleaned before the benches were set up for service.
Soon after, the men came in. The ministers and older men entered first, followed by young married men, and then the youth and young boys. The men sat on the opposite side of the room from the women, facing one another.
The service began with a song from their ancient Amish hymnal, the Ausbund. One of the men led off, carrying the first few notes, and then everyone else joined him. Soon after the singing began, the ministers left the building to discuss who would preach and to offer instructional classes to any candidates for baptism. An hour or so later, the ministers returned. When the singing ended a short time later, the first minister rose to begin his sermon, which lasted about twenty minutes. It still amazed Elma how the bishop and other ministers could preach without any notes on readings mostly found in the New Testament.
By the time the second minister, their bishop, rose to speak, Elma was struggling to keep from yawning out loud. She clasped her hand over her mouth and hoped no one was looking at her. They shouldn’t be, after all; everyone was supposed to be focused on the one delivering the message. With eyes feeling heavy, Elma’s head lowered then bobbed up again. Oh no, I can’t fall asleep. Guess I shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night working on that new puzzle Thelma bought. On top of that, I’m exhausted from everything we did this past week. It’s all catching up with me, I guess.
Elma glanced at Thelma. She seemed to be wide awake and listening intently to what Homer Chupp, the elderly bishop, was saying. He was preaching from the book of Luke, chapter 18, and had quoted verse 27, which Elma had read the other day: “And he said, The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.”
Given everything she and her sister were facing, Elma needed the reminder that nothing was impossible with God. They would try to do their best, seek His wisdom in all their business dealings, and trust Him to take care of their needs.
As the bishop’s message continued, Elma struggled to keep her eyes open. At one point she was about to nod off, when Thelma’s elbow connected with her arm. Elma’s eyes snapped open and she sat up straight. She hoped she hadn’t missed anything important. What am I thinking? she asked herself. Everything that happens during our three-hour Sunday services is important—especially the Bible verses that are quoted during the message.
Elma did better after that, but by the time Homer Chupp’s message was over and the last song had been sung, she felt drowsy again. Hopefully after the meal, she and Thelma could be on their way home, because Elma needed a nap.
When it came time for the twins to sit down to the light meal that had been prepared, Elma felt a headache coming on. She didn’t say anything, however, because Thelma seemed so eager to visit and make new friends. As soon as Thelma finished eating a few pieces of bread, spread with sweetened peanut butter, she offered to hold a young woman’s baby so the mother could eat with both hands free. After putting some peanut butter on her own piece of bread, Elma realized that she wasn’t the least bit hungry. Out of politeness, she nibbled on the bread, but set it down and took a sip of water instead. As the pain increased, she brought her hand up to the back of her neck and massaged it for a bit. It didn’t help much, and she felt more uncomfortable by the minute.
When the woman who’d introduced herself as Nancy finished eating and took the baby back, Elma leaned over and whispered to Thelma, “Are you ready to leave now? I’d like to go home and take a nap.”
“In a minute,” Thelma said. “I haven’t given out the candy I brought to any of the kinner.” She hopped up and headed across the yard to where a group of children played a game of tag. They stopped immediately when she showed them the bag of candy, and it wasn’t long before several more children showed up. Once all the candy had been passed out, Thelma went over to the swing set and started pushing one of the little girls who’d been at the store this past week.
Elma groaned inwardly, while rubbing her forehead. At this rate, they’d never get home. She feared that if they didn’t leave soon, she could lose what little was in her stomach, because what had started out to be a normal headache was now turning into a pounding migraine.
Nancy leaned over and asked, “Are you all right? You look pale, and I noticed you rubbing your head.”
“I’ve been fighting a koppweh, and it’s turned into a migraine,” Elma admitted.
Doris Miller came over. “Why don’t you go inside and lie down for a while? You can rest in the downstairs guest room.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I think it would be best if my sister and I head for home.”
Elma told the women good-bye and headed across the yard to where Thelma was visiting with the children. “Sorry for interrupting, but I’m not feeling well. We need to go home.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Elma; I didn’t know. I’ll see about getting the horse right away.”
Thelma hurried off and Elma headed straight for the buggy. When she got inside, she took her sunglasses out of her purse. The glare of the sun was intense and magnified the throbbing in her head. She blinked her eyes rapidly. Even her vision was blurring. Holding her stomach as a wave of nausea coursed through it, she hoped Thelma would return soon.
Elma moaned. Why now? She had hoped to enjoy today, since it was their first church service here and a chance to meet more of those in their community. Now, as she waited in the buggy, trying to think of things besides the pain in her head, waves of haziness clouded her vision. She closed her eyes to ward off the dizziness. What is taking my sister so long? I hope she hasn’t stopped to talk to anyone.
Several minutes later, Thelma led Rusty to the front of the buggy. The same Amish boy who had greeted them this morning was with her. He took care of getting the horse hitched while Thelma climbed into the driver’s seat.
As they headed down the driveway, Elma’s stomach gave a lurch. “Sister, you’d better pull over. I’m gonna be sick.”
Chapter 7
Kotz es raus, no fiehlscht besser!” Thelma hollered as her sister bent over a clump of weeds. She’d told Elma to vomit it out, knowing it would make her feel better. Of course, it might not do much for her headache.
When Elma returned to the buggy a few minutes later, her face was pale as goat’s milk. “I’m glad I didn’t do that in front of the others. It would have been so humiliating.”
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.
When we get home, you should go straight to bed.”
“I surely won’t argue with that. Resting in a darkened room is the only way I’ll be able to get rid of this headache.”
Thelma gave Elma’s arm a gentle pat. “Don’t worry about anything. As soon as we get home, you can head to the house. I’ll take care of Rusty’s needs and feed the chickens, as well as the cats. We were in such a hurry this morning, I forgot to do that.”
“Danki.” Elma leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Thelma hoped they’d make it home without her sister getting sick to her stomach again.
Please, Lord, let Rusty behave himself on the way home, Thelma silently prayed as she directed the horse onto the main road. With Elma feeling so poorly, this would not be a good time for him to act up.
When Thelma guided Rusty into their yard, Elma felt relieved. Not only had the horse obeyed Thelma’s commands, but Elma was simply glad to be home. Her stomach still churned a bit, and her head felt like it could explode, but at least she could finally lie down in her room. As soon as Thelma pulled Rusty to the hitching rail, Elma climbed out of the buggy. As hard as this simple task was, she managed to quickly secure the horse then gave her sister a wave and headed for the house. She walked slowly, not only because each step she took seemed to intensify the pain but also because she felt wobbly from the dizziness.
Stepping onto the porch, she was greeted by Tiger meowing and rubbing against her leg. “Go away,” she muttered. “I’m not going to pet you, and you’re not coming in.”
Elma opened the door and slipped inside before the cat could make its move. She wished they’d never started letting him in at all, because now he expected it. If we see any more mice, then he can come in, Elma thought as she hung her black outer bonnet on a wall peg.
She went to the kitchen and got a glass of water then made her way carefully up the stairs. When she entered her room, she took off her dress and slipped into her nightgown. After she’d released her hair from its bun, she crawled into bed. Sleep was what she needed—quiet, uninterrupted sleep.
Elma was on the verge of dozing off, when Thelma tapped on her door. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I fix you a cup of tea?”
Elma groaned. “No thanks. I just need some sleep.”
“Oh, all right. I’m going downstairs now, but I’ll check on you later.”
Elma knew her sister meant well, but she wished she hadn’t bothered her. Thelma wasn’t prone to migraines, so she didn’t fully understand what they were like. For Elma, they usually came on when she hadn’t had enough sleep or was really stressed about something. She certainly had plenty of reasons to feel anxious right now—not only about the store and the home they’d inherited but also about their unpredictable horse.
As Thelma moved through the hall, past both her and Elma’s bedrooms, her gaze came to rest on the large jar of marbles sitting on the floor at the end of the hall. Grandpa had collected marbles and had several jars scattered around the house. Some were in the way, as this one was.
Think I’ll move that jar into the spare bedroom for now, Thelma decided. Elma and I can decide what to do with it later on, but at least it won’t be a danger to us anymore.
At first, Thelma tried to lift the cumbersome jar, but it was too heavy. Maybe I’ll try to slide it over there. Leaning over, she grabbed the top of the jar and tipped it slightly in order to get a good grip. Moving backward, she slid it across the floor. She was almost to the guest room when she realized the door was closed. Trying to steady the jar with one hand, she reached up with the other hand to open the door. She turned the knob, but it wouldn’t open. Then she remembered that this particular door had a tendency to stick. She pushed again, a little harder. As the door suddenly gave way, Thelma lost her balance, and the jar slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor. Fortunately, the jar was intact, but marbles of all sizes and colors rolled everywhere along the hardwood floor, some even bouncing down the stairs.
Thelma’s finger went to her lips, as if that would somehow muffle the racket and not disturb her sister. Thelma watched helplessly as the marbles finally rolled to a stop. Hunching her shoulders and holding her breath as everything grew quiet again, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited.
“What’s going on out there?” Elma called from her room.
“Don’t come out!” Thelma hollered, wishing her sister hadn’t been disturbed. “I dropped a jar, and marbles are everywhere. It’s not safe. Let me sweep the marbles into the guest room and pick up the strays. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”
“Okay. Be careful, Thelma. You don’t want to slip and fall.”
“I’ll watch what I’m doing.”
“Do you need any help?”
“No, I can manage. Please, stay in your room and rest.” Thankful that they had a broom in the upstairs utility closet, Thelma took it out. After she’d opened the door to the spare room, she laid a small cardboard box on its side and swept the marbles inside. She would figure out what to do with them some other time.
Looking around the room at the boxes and other items scattered about, Thelma realized they would never have it cleaned up in time for Mom and Dad to sleep here. They’d have to use Grandma and Grandpa’s old room downstairs. That would be more convenient anyway, since it was close to the bathroom. She hoped it wouldn’t make Dad feel sad to sleep in his parents’ bed.
After Thelma had picked up the stray marbles that had rolled down the steps, she headed outside to the coop to feed the chickens and check for eggs. When that was done, she set the basket filled with six eggs on the back porch and headed across the yard.
Breathing the earthy scent lingering in the air, Thelma headed toward the barn. Even though it was in need of a new coat of red paint, the building itself would probably be around for a good many years.
When she entered the barn and headed for Rusty’s stall, he kicked the wall in front of him. “Now calm down, boy. Your meal is on the way.” Thelma grabbed a hefty chunk of alfalfa hay and placed it in the horse’s feeding trough. “How’s it going, Rusty?”
The horse nickered.
Thelma smiled and patted him gently up by his ear. “It’s your dinnertime, and now the barn cats need some food, too.” She left his stall, making sure the latch was secure on his door.
After she’d fed and watered the cats, she took a seat on a bale of straw. Leaning against another bale, she sat quietly listening and watching the animals crunching on their food. They all appeared to be content, like she was, breathing in the pleasant grassy aroma in the barn. Thelma missed the way things had been when her grandparents were living. Looking over at Cutter’s empty stall made this moment quite difficult to bear. She fought back tears as she continued to sit and reminisce. Finally, she rose, brushed her sweater and dress off, and headed back to the house.
Once inside, she took care of the eggs then fixed herself a glass of chocolate milk and went to the living room to relax. The past week had been busy, and it was nice sitting here in the quiet and solitude.
Thelma reached for Grandma’s Bible lying on the table beside her. Opening it to a page marked with a ribbon, she read Proverbs 16:20 out loud: “‘He that handleth a matter wisely shall find good: and whoso trusteth in the LORD, happy is he.’”
What a good verse this is for us right now, Thelma thought. I need to commit it to memory.
Hearing a noise from below, Thelma suddenly remembered the mother cat and baby she’d found in the basement. She needed to check on them and feed the mama cat.
Setting the Bible aside and slipping into her sweater again, Thelma went back out to the barn. When she returned to the house, she was relieved to see that Elma hadn’t gotten up yet. It wouldn’t be good if she had to explain what she was doing with a sack of cat food. She’d never understood why her sister didn’t care much for cats.
Thelma went to the kitchen and grabbed her flashlight then made her way down to the basement. As soon as she descended the last step,
she heard mewing. Taking a quick peek, she saw that the mama cat now had four babies. “I brought you some nourishment, Misty.” Thelma chose that name because the cat had light gray fur. She poured food into the dish she’d brought along and set it near Misty. The cat sniffed it and then started chomping. While Misty ate, Thelma filled another bowl with water from the utility sink. Some dirty clothes were in the laundry basket, and Thelma was glad the cat hadn’t climbed in that to give birth to her babies.
Passing the hot water tank on her way to give Misty her drink, Thelma noticed a small puddle. She hoped the tank wasn’t leaking. Perhaps some water had sloshed out of the washing machine when she’d washed a few towels yesterday. But if that were the case, wouldn’t there be moisture in other places, too?
Thelma gave Misty a drink then grabbed an old rag and sopped up the water. If it had come from the old tank, it would probably happen again. She’d check it the next time she came down. Thelma sighed. One more thing to remember.
LaGrange
Joseph leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head as he visited with Delbert after the noon meal following the church service in their district. They’d stayed longer than usual today, enjoying the fellowship with members of their community.
“Those were good messages our ministers preached today,” Joseph said. “The one our bishop preached about being trustworthy and keeping our promises really spoke to me.”
Delbert nodded, stroking his chin. “The promises we render to unbelievers can make a difference in how they view us as Christians.”
“That’s true. If we say we’re gonna do something and don’t follow through, it makes us appear dishonest.” Joseph reached for his coffee cup and took a drink. “The other sermon, about helping others when we see a need, was important, too.”
“Jah.”
“Speaking of helping others,” Joseph said, “when we were in Shipshe the other day, I picked up a flyer about a cooking show that will take place next month. It’s for a good cause. Would you like to go there with me?”
The Lopsided Christmas Cake Page 5
