by Sarah Price
He laughed. “Not in the least!”
A loud noise interrupted the conversation. First they heard the sound of a car engine, screeching down the road followed by the noise of glass breaking. A lot of glass, it sure sounded like. Elias looked out of the window over the sink while Steve quickly pushed his feet back into his boots.
“The barn! It’s from the barn!” Steve exclaimed as he jumped up on his feet and hurried toward the door.
Elias was right behind him but Steve was faster. “Be careful, son!”
Miriam shook her head, standing up and moving toward the door. “Be ready to call the police, Mary Ruth. Best dig out the number from the book on the desk.”
For weeks, a group of young, rebellious teenagers had been vandalizing several farms in the area. A few days would pass with no incidents but then, the group would hit again. They threw rocks at the windows of barns and houses. Sometimes, they even broke buggy windows. It was unfortunate but no one had seen them yet, so the police couldn’t stop them. And, just as the trail was getting warm, they would disappear for a while and all would return to normal.
By the time Miriam joined her husband and son outside, Isaac had emerged from the dairy barn and Anna was hurrying across her front porch, young Katie at her heels. The younger kinner were already playing outside, clamoring around, eager to find out what the noise had been.
“How bad is it?” Miriam asked.
“Strangest thing,” Elias said as he scratched his head and looked around. “Don’t see no damage.”
“We didn’t imagine it,” Isaac added, glancing up to nod at his younger brother, John David who joined them. He had been in the horse barn, apparently hitching his horse to the buggy to run a few errands before starting the afternoon chores.
“I sure heard the noise, Mamm!” Benjamin said as the six year old looked up at his mother, Anna. His eyes were wide and bright. Any kind of change in the daily routine was exciting to the six year old. This was no exception. “It was very loud!”
Anna placed her hand on his head, ruffling her fingers over his straight brown hair that was cut straight across his forehead and over his ears. She nodded as she replied, “I’m sure you did but I don’t see no broken glass here.”
“It’s those bad men, ain’t so?” Benjamin kicked at a rock on the driveway as if trying to prove he wasn’t afraid of anyone.
“Now, now,” Anna soothed, keeping her hand on his head.
For a long moment, no one knew what to say. They had heard the sound of the breaking glass but there was no sign that any window had been shattered. It was Steve who had the idea first. He looked up and glanced down the rest of the lane toward his own farm. It was situated directly across the street but hard to see through the trees.
“I wonder,” Steve said slowly as he began to walk down the lane. The rest of the group caught the unspoken meaning and followed, quiet as they realized the fact that if the damage hadn’t been at their own farm, it might very well have been at Steve’s, right across the road.
Before they could even cross the street, they could see the broken windows. There it was: Shattered glass everywhere; in the grass, on the walkway and on the ledge. Two of the barn windows had been smashed. Since the windows were up high, it was impossible to see if there was any damage on the inside so Steve quickly hurried across the road and around the side of the barn to assess the damage.
There were two big rocks lying on the ground inside the barn. One was in the aisle way and the other was beside one of the cows. Her head was bleeding and she leaned weakly against the metal bar that separated the pens, breathing heavily. Clearly that cow was in pain.
“Aw come on!” Steve mumbled, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He sighed as he placed his hand on her flank. “She’s a pregnant cow, too!” He glanced over his shoulder at his daed, his expression both concerned and stressed. “Can you have someone call the vet as well as the police, Daed?”
Twenty minutes later, the police were taking statements. There were police cars lining the road and a group of Amish standing in a small huddle nearby. Despite not having phones in their homes, the neighbors had quickly heard the story. The Amish grapevine was as powerful as any social media network and, within minutes, the community descended upon the farm to show their solidarity and support for one of their own.
“We are very sorry about this, Mr. Fisher ,” the officer said sympathetically as he closed his notepad. He looked at the damaged windows. “We’re doing whatever we can to catch these fellows. They just keep staying one step ahead of us, but eventually, I am certain that we will catch them.”
“I sure hope so,” Elias said sternly.
The police officer exhaled sharply and ignored Elias. He turned his attention back to Steve. “I suggest you go to Hostetler’s Farm Store off Route 340 for the glass. You can have them send the bill to the police department. We have a special fund set aside for helping you folks out with situations like this.”
Steve nodded. “I’m familiar with Hostetler’s,” he said solemnly. “What about the cow?”
The officer nodded. “Same thing. Vet bill to the police department.” He sighed as he clicked the pen shut and slid it into his left front pocket. “Just wish these folks would leave your peaceful community alone.”
“At least they aren’t burning barns no more. That was bad, a few years back,” Elias said as he looked over at his wife. “Wasn’t it your nephew whose fraa lost a baby when their barn burned down?”
Miriam nodded. “Stillborn because of it, ja.” She shook her head. “Poor Shana, she was heartbroken.”
For a long moment, no one spoke, a moment of silence for the lost baby. The officer seemed uncomfortable, shifting his weight until he finally cleared his throat, the noise breaking the silence. “Well, I best get back and start filing this report. Too much time spent with paperwork,” he said solemnly. “Eventually we’ll catch these vandals. In the meantime, please be extra vigilant.” He glanced over at the kinner. “Call us at the first sign of a speeding car and keep the little ones away from the road…just in case.”
Anna shuddered, pulling Benjamin closer to her, protecting him from the thought of something awful happening to him or to one of her other children.
Little Katie stared with round eyes at the police car in the driveway. It was parked in the shadows of the barn. She watched as it drove away, the lights upon its roof no longer flashing red and blue. She was relieved when it was gone. She didn’t like when the Englischers came to the farm. She much preferred the peace and quiet of the farm when she didn’t have school and could help her mamm with the chores, just like this morning when they had been making cheese together.
Of course, she thought as she turned around and headed back toward the farmhouse, there was that one Englischer woman, the one from a place called the Big Apple, which she didn’t mind too much. She had been at the farm a few weeks back, looking to board some ponies and horses. What was her name, Katie wondered as she stomped up the porch stairs.
Eleanor. Eleanor Haile.
Katie often heard her mamm call her just Ellie but Katie knew that it was short for Eleanor. She liked that name and often thought that, if she could, she would one day name one of her own daughters that pretty Englischer name. Eleanor.
She was as Englische as Englischers get, wearing blue jeans and cowboy boots. Sometimes she drove a shiny red pickup truck, other times a small blue car with four doors and a funny flag looking emblem on the wheels. With long brown hair and a big smile, this Eleanor had a lot of energy. She didn’t treat Anna or Katie or any of her brothers and sisters as if they were some strange creatures like other Englischers sometimes did. Nor did Eleanor ask a lot of personal questions. She treated them like…well…people. And that’s what Katie liked about her.
This Eleanor would pop in from time to time, usually on her way into town to visit some Mennonite relatives on the other side of Lancaster. She never called in advance although she always
promised to do so when she’ll be coming back. She would knock at the kitchen door, waiting patiently for Mamm to welcome her to their home. The good thing about Eleanor was that she talked to everyone, not just Mamm. She always took the time to speak to all of Katie’s brothers and sisters, asking them about school or fishing or working the market stand, up the street. But the best thing about Eleanor was that she seemed to sparkle and glow when she spoke to Katie.
Just the other week Eleanor had been at the farm and stayed just long enough to help make some cookies before sitting down for a nice, cold glass of meadow tea. Eleanor had noticed all of Katie’s toy animals lined up on the sofa. Immediately, Eleanor had realized that Katie had been playing schoolhouse. Without a bit of hesitation, Eleanor had sat down on the sofa, asked the names of the “students” and what subjects were their favorites.
Little Benjamin had laughed and stated the obvious. “Aw, they can’t learn nothing! They’s just stuffed toys!”
Eleanor had picked up the grey rabbit and flopped him on her lap, turning him over as if inspecting him. “Seems like a wise rabbit to me!” she said before gently placing the rabbit back on the sofa next to the stuffed bear. With a friendly wink at Katie, she turned back to Benjamin. “Maybe book learning is doing him some good!”
At that, Benjamin had made a sour face. “Book learning for a toy! That’s silly!”
“Now, now,” Mamm had said, opening the oven to pull out the cookies. The kitchen began to take on a lovely smell and Katie remembered her mouth watering. She loved cookie-making day even better than when Mamm baked bread. “Ellie, come have some meadow tea and try these freshly baked cookies,” Mamm had said, “They are just out of the oven”.
Mamm had continued to work while Eleanor moved over to the kitchen table. She pushed aside the weekly paper, The Budget, that was littering the bench, in order to make room for herself. “Anna,” she had said. “Wanted to ask you a question.”
“Ja?”
Eleanor had sipped at the glass of cold tea. “Boy, that’s really good!”
Anna had laughed. “It’s just meadow tea, Ellie! And that’s not a question.”
“You’re right,” Eleanor had replied. “It’s not the question. But you sure make the best tea that I’ve ever tasted, second only to Miriam’s!” After setting the glass down on the table, she had glanced around the kitchen before continuing. “My husband needs to board some horses and ponies for about nine months. After our summer camp program, we just don’t need them until the following June.”
At the word “ponies”, Katie had suddenly lost interest in the stuffed rabbit that Eleanor had touched and she moved over to the table, instead.
Anna had looked up. “Boarding? How many?”
Eleanor had shrugged her shoulders, in a free and graceful movement. Katie was mesmerized. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her mamm shrug her shoulders. After all, her mamm was always too busy milking cows or washing clothes or cooking food or making cheese. Her mamm was just always too busy, period.
“Twenty or so.”
“Oh my!” Anna had exclaimed. “I reckon that’s too many for most farms. Not certain I know of anyone.”
And that had ended the conversation about ponies and horses.
Now, as Katie plopped down on the torn blue sofa in the kitchen, she reached over with her arm to scoop up the toy rabbit from the floor where she had dropped it that morning. She held the rabbit in her lap and stared at it. She wondered how Eleanor had seen the magic in the rabbit when so many others missed it. Truly Eleanor was a special Englischer and Katie couldn’t wait until she would return.
“You need to clean up those toys, Katie,” Anna said as she walked into the kitchen, her eyes glancing over at the animals, books, and puzzle pieces that littered the floor. She frowned disapprovingly. “Floor looks real messy. We need a bit more order in here, I’m thinking.”
“Why’d those boys do it, Mamm?”
Anna hurried over to clear the plates from the kitchen table. There were left over from that morning. “Don’t you fret none more about those boys.”
“They’re Englischer boys, ain’t so?” Katie asked.
Anna paused and looked out the window. Katie knew that her constant questions got under mamm’s skin but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know the answers. “Yes, Katie. Amish boys wouldn’t be driving and certainly wouldn’t be destroying people’s property.”
“Why then?”
With a sigh, Anna turned around. “Why what?” She pointed at the mess. “And you can pick up those toys while you’re asking me these questions, ja?”
Katie scrambled off the sofa and began to scoop the toys into her hands in order to carry them to the crate in the other room. “Why do Englischers do such things but you said Amish boys wouldn’t?”
“Our kinner are just raised different, I reckon,” Anna answered. But Katie could tell that it wasn’t a good enough answer.
“What about Eleanor?”
At the mention of her Englische friend, Anna laughed. “What about Eleanor? She has nothing to do with those bad boys!”
“But she’s an Englischer. Surely she was raised in a similar way?”
This time, Anna hesitated. Clearly she could follow Katie’s logic. That much was obvious from her expression. Katie waited patiently for an explanation. “Ach, vell,” Anna began. “Not all Englischers are raised the same way.”
“Nor are all Amish boys, ain’t so?”
Taking a deep breath, her mamm shook her head. “You just have to trust me on this one, Katie. Eleanor is not like them and she was not raised like them. She’s a wunderbarr gut friend to the family. Has been for many years, now.”
“Ain’t it true that Onkel James was sweet on her?”
Anna gasped. “Katie Fisher ! Where did you hear such nonsense?” She gestured toward the toys. “Enough of this chatter and you get those toys put away. Then outside you go. See if your daed needs some help. I’m through with these questions!”
Frowning, Katie hurried about her assigned chores. She could sure tell that her mamm was, indeed, finished with questions. Whenever she used her full name, Mamm meant business. There was no testing the water with her mamm when addressed in such a formal matter.
And so Katie went on with her assignment then helped her daed with the barn chores. After the evening meal, she went to bed early and slept straight through the night.
It was the following morning when Steve arranged for a car service to take him to the Hostetler’s Farm Store. He didn’t own a horse and a buggy. On the rare occasions when he used one, he always borrowed Isaac’s. It wasn’t as though he went many places so hiring a paid driver was the most economical and least time consuming way to go.
The cow had come through all right, requiring some stitches and antibiotics. The vet had said she was lucky. A few inches to the right and the cow would have suffered brain damage and most likely would have needed to be put down. Thank Gott for small blessings, he thought. Losing the one cow would have been a financial setback, not just for the loss of the daily milk she provided for the family but for the calf that she carried.
The bell at Hostetler’s door jingled as he walked inside. It was an old building with a creaky wood plank floor and dusty shelves. A few kerosene lights hung overhead, from the old weathered beams, hissing as they cast a dim light throughout the store. Steve knew better than to look up at the flame. Doing so would cause instant blindness for a few seconds and black dots in his vision for a minute or more. While they might be dim, those lights were strong.
“May I help you?”
He turned in the direction of the soft yet cheerful voice, surprised to see a young Amish woman behind the counter. She wore a green dress with her black apron and white prayer kapp. Her face looked freshly scrubbed and young with the exception of the slight scar just over her right eyebrow and wrinkles under her hazel eyes. Yet, she looked familiar. “Uh…ja,” he stammered, trying to remember why he was there. �
�Windows. I need two new windows for my barn.”
“Oh ja,” she said, nodding her head. “The police called Daed and said you might be here today. Heard about your barn. Feel really sorry about it”
“Your daed?”
“Jonas Hostetler,” she responded, reaching beneath the counter for a pad of paper. “The owner.”
He searched his memory for just a moment. There was something there. Was it a wedding? About ten years ago? He had been just twenty-four years old and paired up with a young woman who had amazingly similar eyes as the beautiful creature standing right before him. Only, he remembered, that he hadn’t realized it then. Curious, Steve leaned against the counter. “You live by the Riehl farm, ja? Mimi Hostetler?”
“That’s what my friends call me, ja?” Those hazel eyes met his and narrowed for just a moment. “Do I know you?”
“Steve Fisher ,” he said. “We had fellowship at a wedding once.”
“We did?” Her voice sounded surprised. Her eyes flitted back and forth, taking in his face as if stretching back in her own memory. Clearly, she hadn’t remembered him.
“I think so, anyway,” he mumbled and stood straight. If he was a little disappointed that she didn’t remember him, he did his best to hide it. After all, he scolded himself, it was ten years ago. Chances were that she was married with a pack of her own kinner at home. Although, he thought, if she was married, why would she still be working for her daed?
“About those windows,” he said.
“Ja, ja…” she replied, bending her head back down. “Such a shame that those Englischer boys have such a penchant for mischief.” She shook her head as she wrote something on a pad of paper. “They sure do have plenty of time to spare for doing nothing but trouble.”
“Good hard farm work would solve that problem,” Steve admitted.
She laughed and looked up at him. The sound was musical to his ears. So light and airy. And her eyes sparkled. “Good hard farm work solves a lot of problems, ain’t so?” Looking up, she smiled. “That’s what my daed tells me every morning at breakfast.”
