Here’s your problem right here,” Ezra explains as he kneels down, using a stick to dislodge some impacted grass cuttings from the mower.
“Oh.” I nod. “No wonder it wasn’t working.”
“The reason the grass jammed like that is because these blades are too dull to cut properly.” He stands up. “Come with me, English girl.”
Gladly, I think as I follow him. Anywhere.
“I came over here to return a tool my daed borrowed from Jacob,” he explains as he leads us toward the barn. “I wondered if I’d get to see you.”
I snicker. “Not only did you get to see me, you got to see me do a belly flop.”
He laughs. “That was something to see. Good thing you didn’t get hurt. I was afraid you were going to land on the mower. Even with dull blades, that could’ve hurt a lot.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He turns to gaze down at me. “And it would be a shame to mess up that face.”
I feel my heart fluttering and don’t quite know how to respond. “So do you live around here?” I ask, feeling like I’m walking in a dream.
He nods his head to the right. “See that barn over there?”
I peer in that direction. “Yeah.”
“That’s my family’s farm.”
“It looks nice.”
He laughs. “It looks just like every other farm around here.”
“Yeah, well, I’m from the city,” I explain. “The countryside looks nice to me.”
He looks into my eyes again. “Really? Do you think this is better than living in a city?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. I mean, it’s so different, and I just got here yesterday. The truth is, I think I’m having culture shock.”
“Culture shock?”
“It’s something people get when they visit a different country. Kind of like everything is backwards and upside down.”
“Ja. I know. We are like a different country to the Englishers.” He turns and enters the barn now.
As I follow him into the shadowy interior, I wonder about the tone of his voice. “Don’t you like it here?” I ask him.
He glances around the barn as if to see if anyone is in here, then, seemingly satisfied that we’re alone, he shakes his head.
“Really?” I stare at him. “You don’t like being Amish?”
Now he looks uncertain. “Sometimes I like it good enough, and I like farming all right. But sometimes I think I’d like to see the rest of the world. I wonder what’s out there.”
“Oh.” My eyes have adjusted to the dimness in here, and I look up at him, trying to figure him out. “Have you ever been away from here?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head. “Not beyond Hochstetler.”
I try not to act shocked. “Well, I haven’t seen too much beyond Indianapolis.”
“Indianapolis?” His eyes brighten. “Where they have that big car race?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, they have the Indy 500 there.”
“Have you seen it?”
I slowly nod. “My dad took me once when I was a little kid . . . before he died.”
His eyes grow dark. “Your daed’s passed on?”
“Yeah. I was about eight when he died.”
He sighs, but without saying anything else, he turns his attention back to the lawn mower, lifting it up onto a big wooden workbench. He takes down a couple of big metal tools that are hanging on a board behind the bench and goes to work on the mower blades. First he cleans them off, then he starts to rub a long piece of metal over the blades. “See how the metal on the blade is starting to shine there?” He moves his head so that I can see the edge of the blade. Our heads are so close that I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. And it feels good!
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“That means it’s getting sharper,” he says. “But I have to do all of them, on all sides. I’ll make this mower so sharp that it can whack off a finger or toe.” He pauses to look down at my feet. “You need to wear shoes to use this now.”
I watch as he finishes sharpening the blades and oils them all, wiping the drips with an old rag. Now he sets the mower on the ground and gives it a push, and I see the blades whirling around freely.
“Wow,” I say, impressed. “That looks like it could chop off a toe.”
“Let’s go see how it works,” he tells me as he starts wheeling it out.
Back on the lawn, Ezra takes a trial run. “Cuts the grass like a hot knife through butter,” he tells me. Then he frowns at my feet. “You need to put on your shoes before you try it out.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.”
“You go get your shoes while I do another row.”
I hurry into the house in time to discover Mammi and Mom on their way to the bathroom. “I called for you,” my mom says weakly, “but you didn’t come, Shannon.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say quickly. “I was mowing the lawn for your dad and—”
“Oh? You’re helping Daed?” Mom shuffles her feet along, leaning on Mammi. “Well, I needed you to help me.”
“Do you want me to take—”
“I’ve got her,” Mammi assures me.
“Okay.” I turn from them and hurry to my room, fumbling through my bags and stuff until I finally locate my sneakers, which I hurry to put on and tie. I go back outside and discover that Ezra has done several rows.
“Looks like it’s working great,” I tell him as I go over.
“Wanna give it a try?”
“Sure.” He hands it over to me. I give a tentative push and am shocked to see that it works fine. Sure, it takes a little energy to push it, but nothing like before. I pause to look at Ezra. “Thank you so much,” I tell him. “It really works!”
He grins. “Take good care of your tools, and your tools will take good care of you.”
I’m sure I must look starry-eyed and smitten as I continue gazing up at him. “That’s very wise,” I say.
“I can’t take the credit. It’s what my daed says.”
“Well, thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it.”
He removes his straw hat now, running his fingers through his curly golden hair so that it sticks out all over—but not in an unattractive way. “I like you, Shannon,” he says. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
I try not to look shocked. “I’d like to get to know you better too,” I say.
“How about if I come by later on, after my work is done. After supper?”
“Sure,” I say eagerly. “I’d like that.”
“We can take a walk,” he says.
“Great,” I agree. “That sounds good.”
“See ya then,” he tells me as he starts to leave.
“See ya!” I call out happily, watching him as he strides away. If anyone would’ve told me yesterday that I would fall in love with an Amish boy today, I would’ve told them they were certifiably nuts. But as I watch him hopping over a fence and cutting through a pasture, I know that my heart is going with him.
Don’t be a total idiot, the realist side of me warns as Ezra slowly fades out of sight. But my dreamy optimist side is not listening. I return to cutting the grass, easily pushing the mower down one row after the next. I am still amazed at how nicely it works since Ezra stepped in. Almost like magic.
I’ve just finished up when Mammi comes out and announces that it’s time to eat. “Come in for the midday meal,” she tells me.
I look at my hands. “I better wash first,” I say.
“Ja, but hurry. Jacob is hungry. I already took Anna her dinner.”
I jog up to the house, rush into the bathroom, pump out the water, and hurriedly wash my hands. I’m tempted to check out my image in the little shaving mirror, which I suspect belongs to my grandfather, but don’t want to waste the time.
They are already bowing their heads when I slide onto the bench. I bow my head too, waiting until they say, “Amen,” and echoing them. I’m surprised to see that Mammi has made macaroni and cheese, biscuits, and green beans with bacon. For lunch, this seems like a feast. When I mention this, my grandfather only grunts, but Mammi smiles. “We eat hearty because we work hearty.” She glances out the window. “And you have been working too, Shannon.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know that mowing grass was such hard work,” I admit, glancing at my grandfather, who seems intent on his food. “But it’s fun too.”
He looks up at me with a surprised expression.
“Good girl,” Mammi tells me. “It is good you enjoy hard work.”
It feels good to have her appreciation, but it would be even better if Gramps would give me a kind word. However, it does not seem to be in the works for today.
“Ezra Troyer came by,” I say to both of them. Mammi simply nods, but Gramps looks curious. “He returned one of your tools,” I say to my grandfather.
“Ja, I saw that.”
“And he helped me fix the mower,” I continue.
“The mower?” His scowl returns. “What is wrong with the mower?”
“The grass was stuck all over it and the blades needed to be sharpened.”
“The blades were sharp,” he tells me.
I consider debating this but know it will only cause more problems. “He seems like a nice guy,” I say absently. “So helpful.”
“Ja, Ezra is a good boy.” Mammi nods as she reaches for a biscuit. “His father Silas is a good man. The apple will not roll far away from the tree.”
“But it will roll,” my grandfather says in a somber voice.
While this is the most conversation I’ve been part of at my grandparents’ table, it comes quickly to an end, and before long it’s time to clean up. Remembering that Mom is due for a pill, I excuse myself to check on her.
“It’s about time,” she tells me when I open the door. “Where have you been all day?”
“Cutting the grass,” I say. “Remember?”
“Did you cut the whole hayfield?”
“No.” I remove her dishes, which still have a fair amount of food left on them. “You didn’t eat all your lunch,” I tell her. “You know what that means?”
“Shannon,” she says with irritation, “you didn’t see how much food Mamm brought me. It looked like enough for three people.”
“More than enough.” She gives me a weary smile. “And now I would very much like a pill, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“You really need it?” Looking at her, I’m thinking she looks better than usual. Is it possible that this fresh country air and good food are improving her health?
“Of course I need it,” she snaps.
“You know what the doctor said, Mom. You’re only supposed to take them as needed. The more you take them, the less effective they’ll be.”
“I’m telling you, I need a pill, Shannon. Are you going to get it for me, or do I have to stumble over there and dig it out for myself?”
“I’m getting it,” I assure her. As I dig through my things, trying to locate my purse, I comment on the size of the room. “I’ve seen bigger closets,” I say as I shake out a pill. “And this room doesn’t even have a closet.”
“Mamm said you might be welcome to stay at my brother’s house. They have more room.”
“Would we both go there?”
Mom frowns. “I don’t know. I’ve never really gotten along that well with Ben’s wife, Katrina. If I’m going to be beholden to anyone in this settlement, I’d rather it be my own parents.”
“Oh.” I hand her the pill and the last dregs of her tea.
“But you could go over there if you want.” She takes the pill, swallowing it with the tea. “Ben’s daughter is about your age.”
“And leave you here on your own?”
“I wouldn’t be on my own, Shannon. Mamm is here. She’ll take care of me.”
I frown. “You wouldn’t even miss me?”
She makes a sad smile. “Of course I would. But I feel guilty making you sleep on the floor.”
“It is a little hard.”
“Why don’t you ask Mamm to walk you over to Ben’s house so you can talk to Katrina and Ben about it?”
“Right now?”
“Why not?”
I’m thinking about my “date” with Ezra tonight. He’s coming here to meet me. No way do I want to risk not being here. “Maybe I should wait until tomorrow,” I say. “Mammi and I could go over there in the morning.”
“You don’t mind sleeping on the floor again?”
I consider this, then shrug. Maybe I’ll be sleeping out on that freshly mowed grass tonight. Not that I plan to tell her this.
“Well, I suppose it makes sense to wait until tomorrow,” she admits. “Gives you more time to spend with your grandparents. How is it going with them, anyway? You helped Daed mow the lawn?”
“I mowed it all myself,” I tell her. “Well, mostly.” I explain about how Ezra came over to help. “He was returning a tool, but he knew just what to do to make the mower work.”
“What’s his last name?” Mom asks sleepily.
“Troyer,” I tell her. “Ezra Troyer.”
Her eyes pop open. “Silas Troyer’s son?”
“Yeah, I think Mammi said his dad’s name is Silas. Why?”
She waves her hand. “Nothing.”
“What?” I demand. I can tell by her eyes there’s more story here, and I want to hear it. “Who is Silas?”
“Just an old friend.”
“Just a friend? Or something more?”
“Oh, I probably thought of him as a beau.”
“Really?” I lean forward with interest.
“Yeah.” She shrugs, leaning back into her pillows. “But I obviously didn’t like him well enough to stick around.”
“You think if you’d stayed here, you might’ve married Ezra’s dad?” I am incredulous.
“Well, he wasn’t Ezra’s dad back then, Shannon.”
“I know . . . but it’s weird.” Is it possible that Mom was in love with Ezra’s dad and now I’m in love with Ezra? Okay, I know saying I’m in love is pushing it, but I certainly do feel something.
Mom is still reclined on the pillows, but her eyes are fixed on me. “Why is it so weird, Shannon? Is there something about this Ezra fellow that I should know?”
“No, of course not.”
“Shannon?”
“He just seems like a nice boy, Mom. He helped me with the mower and was polite. That’s all.”
“How old is he?”
“I don’t know, Mom.”
“Your age?”
“I guess. I didn’t ask him.”
Mom studies me now.
“Don’t make this into a big deal,” I tell her. “An Amish boy was helpful and I appreciated it. End of story.”
She sighs and closes her eyes.
“I’ll let you rest now,” I say quietly.
“Don’t forget to talk to Mamm about moving over to Uncle Ben’s house.”
“Uncle Ben?” I laugh. “Like the rice?”
“Yeah.” She smiles sleepily. “Like the rice.”
I pick up her dishes and quietly go to the door, silently opening it and slipping out. I can’t help but see the irony of this—me falling for a boy that is the son of Mom’s old beau. But I don’t see any reason for Mom to get all up in arms about it. Would she try to put the brakes on a summer fling? Because as much as my optimist side is imagining Ezra and me, true love forever, my realist side knows that this is just something to brighten up my summer in Amishland. And really, don’t I deserve a break like this?