by Linda Byler
But Lizzie refused to budge. Besides, Mam was in the hospital with two babies, and that was enough to think about in one day, without learning to swim in that horrible, brown, frightening river.
The blue station wagon pulled into the gravel drive two days later. The house was spotless, dusted and shining, as Mam walked slowly through the kitchen door. She looked pale and so thin, Lizzie could hardly believe it was Mam. She sank weakly onto the sofa and smiled a tired smile in the girls’ direction.
Dat and Lavina each carried a small pink-covered bundle. Lavina was so excited she was almost on her tiptoes as she lifted a corner to peep at the tiny baby underneath.
“O-oh!” she squealed.
Emma hurried to take Dat’s baby, lifting the corner of her blanket. She became completely speechless. Lizzie ventured over far enough to take a peek from a safe distance.
She saw a very small head covered with heavy black hair. Two perfect little half moons were closed across dark red cheeks, with a tiny nose and mouth perfectly aligned underneath. Lizzie was amazed to see the black hair was perfectly straight—it was not curly at all. That was a tremendous relief, because there was just no way you could comb a girl’s hair if it was as curly as Jason’s.
Slowly, she sat beside Emma on the couch, peering into the second pink blanket. It was simply a repeat of the first baby—a perfectly formed little head covered with black hair. Not one curl in sight. Lizzie sighed, gazing at Dat with disbelief in her eyes. “They’re cute!” she said softly.
Dat smiled back, including Mandy in his attentive concern. He was always careful to make sure everyone felt included when there was a new baby. Jason was seated on his lap, looking as if he could burst into tears, as he was so bewildered.
Lizzie’s heart went out to Jason in that moment. She loved him so much—curly hair, big frightened eyes, and all. She got up and walked over to Dat, saying, “Come, Jason—do you want to see the babies?”
He climbed down off Dat’s lap and followed Lizzie, peeping into the blanket to meet his new sister. He looked closely, then peered up at Emma, saying, “They look like monkeys.”
Everyone burst out laughing, including Mam, until Jason became self-conscious, trying to hide his eyes.
The days that followed were all a blur of babies, bottles, loads and loads of laundry, and a very tired Mam. Lizzie even helped, rocking these tiny little ones and giving them a warm bottle of formula whenever she was needed.
She still did not like it when they cried. She soon found out that these small, petite babies could cry just as loudly as Jason did when he was tiny. And when they cried in full volume, their tonsils looked like kidney beans, too.
But she did learn to hold a baby, deciding which end was up, even feeling comfortable rocking them. Emma was a much better helper, because Lizzie tired of it so easily. But Mam told her she did good and she would be a good mother someday, which made Lizzie feel so very much better about babies in general.
Sometimes even Mam was confused about which baby was Katherine, and which one was Susan, so she put a pink safety pin on Katherine’s blanket and a blue one on Susan’s.
Dat shook his head, saying, “Five girls. We have five girls,” as if he was trying to believe it. “Poor Jason.”
Mam spent plenty of time including Jason in her care, telling him stories and singing to him while she rocked babies. Often Lizzie found Mam with a twin on one arm and Jason on the other, fully relaxed, enjoying her children. Emma was the one who swept, mopped, dusted, and yelled at everyone to put their stuff away.
The basement home was getting full, no doubt about it, so Dat set about drawing serious plans for a new house, which only increased everyone’s excitement.
chapter 10
The River
The thermometer on the porch reached ninety-five degrees one day. There had been no rain for a while, parching the grass in the yard and curling the corn-stalks in the field beside it. Every morning the sun rose, a huge orange ball, waiting to heat up the earth as noon approached. The heat shimmered over the macadam road and the stifling humidity felt as if you had to move the mountain to breathe easier.
Even the twin babies were dressed only in a diaper and a little white tee-shirt. They were still so tiny, Lizzie could hardly see they had grown at all in a few weeks’ time. But Mam put a cookie sheet on the kitchen scales, carefully folding a blanket on top before balancing each baby to see how much they weighed.
“Oh, yes, Lizzie, they’re gaining,” she said, expertly flipping Katherine onto her own blanket. “Only a few ounces, but they’re doing alright.”
“Mam, their legs are so scrawny. I can’t see how they can be gaining,” Lizzie said, worriedly, spanning one little leg with her fingers.
“They are—don’t you worry. Do you want to give Katherine her bottle?” she asked.
“Do I have to?”
“Unless you can get Mandy to. Emma’s washing.”
“I was going to ride Dolly.”
“Lizzie, aren’t you a little too heavy for that pony?”
Lizzie shrugged her shoulders, taking Katherine from Mam. “Where’s her bottle?”
Mam brought it, and Lizzie held the nipple against the tiny little mouth. Katherine sucked greedily, downing an ounce in no time, then Lizzie had to hold her over her shoulder to burp her. She hated burping babies, because they scrooched way down in an uncomfortable little ball, and made funny grunting sounds, sucking on their fists, doing anything but burp. Lizzie rocked and rocked, patting the baby gently on the back, feeling more and more upset.
“Mam, she doesn’t burp,” she said loudly.
“Here, Susie’s asleep. I’ll finish her,” Mam said.
“Not ‘Susie,’” Lizzie said sharply. “Susan.”
“No, I like ‘Susie.’ We’ll probably call Katherine ‘KatieAnn,’ like my mom,” Mam said.
Lizzie sniffed indignantly, slamming the screen door on her way to the barn. Mam was so plain. Emma, Lizzie, Mandy, Susie, Katie. Every name was so Amish, except Jason. She did not like any name especially, except Mandy.
Dolly nickered as Lizzie walked up to the fence. She caught her halter, murmuring hello to her old pony. Dolly was almost blind now. Dat had showed her the spots in the dark black part of her eye that had turned white, meaning there was no vision at all. But that didn’t matter to Lizzie; she loved Dolly just the same.
Slipping the bridle over Dolly’s head, she slung the reins across the pony’s neck, before hopping onto her back. Dolly was small and fat, so it wasn’t hard to slip onto her round back. They headed out to the trails in the pasture, walking carefully among the dips and rocky places.
There was just something so special about riding. Lizzie loved the smell that wafted up from the pony and the heavy mane bobbing in front of her, with the delicate ears pricked up to hear Lizzie’s command. She loved to reach back and stroke Dolly’s sleek haunches as they meandered along the pasture trails.
She stopped Dolly under a maple tree to let her rest. Flies swarmed around them in the morning heat, bees droned in the bushes beside the barbed wire fence, and birds called to each other from the fencerow.
Lizzie was content and relaxed, feeling at ease with her world once again, after the twins’ birth. Mam could easily take care of them by herself, which was an immense relief. They didn’t cry as much as Jason had, so Mam didn’t even get the blues at all.
The only thing that worried Lizzie was thinking about these babies walking. How would they ever keep them off the road?
There was a loud shout from down by the barn, and Lizzie looked up to see Debbie yelling and waving from the fence. She urged Dolly back to the barn, even trotting for a while, until Dolly stumbled, so Lizzie pulled her back to a walk.
“What?” Lizzie asked, when she was close enough.
“C’mon, Lizzie. Lavina and Esther are taking us to the river for a picnic. We’re going swimming ’cause it’s so hot,” she said excitedly.
Lizzie’s stomach
lurched. She had always wanted to learn to swim, but she really did not want to try in the river. It was the current that scared her, the unrelenting steady flow of that deep water, all headed in one direction, taking whatever it could carry along to the ocean. She did not want to admit to Debbie that she was afraid, but she was terrified of that current.
“Did Mam say?” she asked.
“She said you and Mandy can go. Emma has to stay here,” Debbie said.
“Emma would probably rather stay here anyway,” Lizzie said, hopping off Dolly’s back, unbuckling the leather chin strap and pulling off the bridle in one swift motion. She patted Dolly’s neck before she went off to find the water trough in the barn.
“You sure Mam said we can go?” she asked again, half hoping Mam would say no.
“Yeah, Lizzie, I asked,” Debbie said impatiently.
So Lizzie and Mandy found themselves in the kitchen, spreading mayonnaise on slices of bread, carefully arranging bologna and cheese on top. Debbie leaned against the counter, eating a piece of cheese and exclaiming over the molasses cookies.
“Mmmm, they look so good!” she said, rolling her eyes.
“They are good,” Lizzie assured her.
“Who made them?”
“Emma.”
“Emma?”
“She loves to bake. She even made a chocolate jelly roll.”
“Wow!”
Lizzie had learned to love Debbie whole-heartedly. She was almost like a sister to her, like Mandy, except sometimes even better. They played on the ridge together, skated, and went sled riding. Everything they did with Uncle Eli’s children included Debbie, and often her younger sister, Jeanie, too. Mam and Dat both loved Debbie, too, never disapproving of her because she was English. Mam told the girls they must never think they were better than others, English people as well as Amish. “God made us all different, and yet we are the same,” Mam would say wisely, nodding her head. So Lizzie never thought twice about accepting Debbie into their lives.
Of course, their lives were different in lots of ways. Debbie went to a huge elementary school near Marion, where they learned the Pledge of Allegiance and had gym classes, with huge crowds of English children. She had a television set to watch, all the Pepsi with ice cubes in it she wanted, and fancy food she heated in the oven that came already made, out of a box. When she went away, it was in her mother’s fancy gold car.
But there was nothing Debbie liked better than a ride with Dolly in the cart, or eating Mam’s homemade chocolate cakes. “She would live with us if we would let her,” Lizzie often told Mam. But Mam didn’t allow her to be there all the time, mostly because the girls had work to do. But most days, for a few hours, Debbie was included in their days unless she had other plans.
Their lunches were packed, swimdresses and towels rolled into a canvas tote bag, and they were off with Lavina, Esther, and Edna. The sun was so hot, they had to wear sneakers to walk to the river, because the black, bubbly tar hurt their feet too much to go barefoot. They chattered together about the depth of the river, how cold the water was, why it was brown, and how soon you couldn’t touch the bottom.
Lizzie hung back, feeling sick to her stomach—she was so afraid. Along with the fear, she had a deep determination not to let it show, because no one else seemed to be even one tiny bit frightened or nervous. So she kept it to herself.
They walked past the empty schoolhouse, grass growing tall along the fence. There were about eight or nine huge workhorses in the pasture surrounding the little white schoolhouse, so the grass stayed cut, almost like a lawn. After they passed the school, the macadam stopped, leaving only a dirt road. Lizzie was glad for her sneakers then, because the huge gravel would have hurt her feet worse than the hot black tar.
They passed the Swarey farm, the large red barn standing close to the dirt road. The big white house with a green roof was situated behind the barn and corncribs, up a gentle slope, surrounded by large poles with white purple martin houses on them.
They rounded a curve and the river was in plain sight, running swift and deep beside a cool green line of trees on the opposite bank. The grass was all mowed perfectly by an English man on a riding lawn mower on their side of the river, because the Fish and Game Commission owned the land. They kept everything very nice, even log privies and a dock to tie a boat. Willow tree branches hung almost to the water’s surface, swaying and bending in the hot summer breeze.
“Let’s eat first!” Debbie suggested. “I’m hungry. I only had one piece of cheese at Lizzie’s house.”
“No, Debbie,” Lavina said. “If we go swimming too soon after we eat, we could get cramps.”
“Not if you walk around first.”
But Esther and Lavina insisted. So they went to the hot, insect-infested privies and changed. It was so hot inside, it felt like an oven, because there were no windows, only light-colored corrugated plastic. Swarms of houseflies, wasps, bees, and other assorted insects banged and buzzed against the plastic.
Lizzie hung back nervously as they made their way to the river, watching as Lavina and Esther waded into the clear water. Debbie ran in, full force, flopped on her stomach, and started to swim out into the current.
Lizzie gasped. “Debbie!” she screamed, without thinking.
Esther and Lavina looked sharply at Lizzie. “Shhh!” they warned her.
Lizzie felt terrible. There was Debbie, paddling out way, way too far, and all she had meant to do was save her. Then Lavina and Esther had to act like that. She was so humiliated that she sat down on the grass, wrapping a towel around her shoulders and pouted. Okay, then, let Debbie drown, she thought. It didn’t help matters one bit to see Mandy wade at the water’s edge. Esther helped her out into deeper water, splashing her to help her become acquainted with the cold river water. Mandy’s eyes were big and scared, Lizzie could tell, but she bravely ventured in deeper with the bigger girls.
Debbie was paddling around happily, almost in the middle of the river. She looked relaxed and happy, floating on her back, before flipping over and swimming back in.
“Lizzie, come on in. The water isn’t a bit cold,” she yelled.
“What’s wrong with you, Lizzie?” Edna asked. “Didn’t you ever go swimming at all?”
“No!” Lizzie yelled.
“Never?”
“No! Where would we have gone? We had no place to swim,” Lizzie answered defensively.
“Well, we didn’t know that,” Lavina apologized. “No wonder you’re scared.”
“I am not scared!” Lizzie shouted, getting up and stomping off to the privies, the towel flapping behind her like a robe. She slammed the heavy log door of the privy and sat down, wishing she was at home. Why didn’t she tell Debbie she had a headache or a backache, or anything other than coming here to this horrible place?
She watched the bees trying desperately to find their way out, some of them having died weeks ago. She wondered why the insects didn’t have more brains in the first place and watch when the door opened, then fly out to freedom, instead of killing themselves by flailing their delicate wings against the plastic. They were stupid. After a while the thought entered her mind that maybe she was the same. She refused to let go of her worries and fears, not even thinking about the possibility of enjoying the river if she would let Esther and Lavina help her.
Mandy was a lot smaller and skinnier, and the river had not washed her away. She had to stop being afraid if there was nothing to be afraid of. She was too embarrassed to go back out, so she stayed where she was, her chin in her hands, wondering what to do, or how long a person could survive in two hundred degrees with a bunch of half-dead insects.
After that, another thought entered her mind. The only thing keeping her in this little prison was her pride. That was dumb, too. So she got up, pulled the towel around her shoulders, and walked resolutely across the freshly mown green grass.
“Here! Here! We’re over here!” Debbie called, waving both hands to catch Lizzie’s attention.
They had come out of the water, and were spreading a tablecloth on a rustic-looking picnic table. Lizzie waved and hurried over. Good, they’re going to eat, so I don’t have to worry about going swimming right away, she thought.
Lavina was unpacking everyone’s lunch and mixing up the food, so they were allowed to pick whatever they wanted. Lizzie chose Aunt Mary’s sandwiches, because the bread was homemade. It was sliced thicker and was more chewy, with a thick brown crust. They piled three pieces of chopped ham in the center, with a generous spread of mayonnaise, which was the best sandwich Lizzie had ever tasted.
They drank cold grape juice from paper cups and ate thick wedges of Aunt Mary’s cherry pie. Potato chips, molasses cookies, Grandpa cookies with caramel frosting, Oreo cookies, cheese curls, tiny sweet pickles from a pint jar, and cheese popcorn. It was a picnic fit for a king, and Lizzie told Debbie so.
Debbie laughed. “Kings would never eat food like this!” she said.
“You don’t know.”
They all decided if a king was really hungry, he would eat this food, which made Lizzie feel better. To her, nothing was better than picnic food, like sandwiches and potato chips, eaten outdoors.
They sat around the picnic table, talking about all kinds of subjects, watching boats if one made its way up or down the river. Sometimes, a small boat without a motor would go past, men rowing it with oars, their fishing poles sticking out the back.
After an hour was up, they all headed back into the water. Debbie splashed in as usual, but Edna and Mandy stayed with Lizzie. The water swirled around her ankles first, which was surprisingly warm. Lizzie had thought the water would be much colder. After the water was above her knees, she could tell the current was not as strong as it looked. It just went past so slowly you could barely tell it was moving.
After she discovered that, nothing would hold her back. Before she knew what had happened, the water was up to her neck, and she was bouncing along on her tiptoes, her arms held out, almost as if she was swimming. It was a most lovely feeling. She had never been in water this deep, so she was amazed at how light she felt.
