CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“Sunday best, please!”  The postal clerk’s words rang in Charlotte’s ears and traveled to her eyes as she straightened the white kapp.  She scrubbed and scrubbed to try to get all of the mud out, but it still had an off-white appearance.  One at a time, she stuck a long straight pin into the front brim of it and pushed it through the material and some of her hair.  Pulling the section next to the pin tight, she pushed the pin back up and slightly out of the material.  She did the same with the other four silver pins.  She stepped back from the mirror and wiggled her head to see if she’d done a good job; she had, and the off-white color didn’t look as bad as she had thought that it would look.

“I hope this man is nice and doesn’t want to kiss young girls like Doctor Bronson.”  She remembered how Doctor Bronson had impulsively wanted to use her beauty for his needs in exchange for his medical services and money for treatments.  She was proud of him for not advancing further and for realizing that it was wrong.  Would this man try to do the same thing? Being that he was a very wealthy man, he had to be the same age as the doctor.  The thought of the new job made her nervous. 

The black bonnet was grabbed and placed over her kapp, and the strings tied tautly. She turned sideways to see if her navy cape dress still fit properly around her hips and saw that it did.  She stood in front of the mirror with her hands laced loosely against her in front of her waist.  This is where you want me Lord, isn’t it? Mamm’s Englisch friend Kathy was trying to make me become a worldly child, and it wasn’t right.  I should have told my mother about the dresses instead of keeping her secret.”  She bowed her head in reverence and shame, “Please forgive me.  I am burning everything in that secret hideaway in the wall.”

Her ivory-toned hands lifted the edges of her dress up before she bent down to a crawling position.  The secret door in the wall was opened, and one at a time, her fingers ran over the fancy evening gowns, feeling their rhinestones, costume gems, and woven pearl adornments. You can’t touch the other chest and the little tin box; they are not yours, Charlotte!  She knew that had once been true for the items had been there since she was a little girl, and although she often wondered what was inside them, she had never snooped.  Now she could, and she felt a sense of accomplishment and ownership; the whole house was hers no with nothing being off limits.

Eagerly, her head ducked down as she crawled back to the chest and box.  She grabbed them and carried them out of the secret hiding place.  Lifting up, she grabbed them one at a time and sat them on the bed.  Which one should she open first?

The chest opened and some handmade cape dresses and kapps, along with two black aprons, were neatly tucked in the box with a small piece of paper on top.  The paper read:

Dear Charlotte:

By the time that you’re brave enough to look in here without the fear of being caught, the Lord will have called me home.  I didn’t find out about my daughter’s death until you were three months old.  You real mother, Vonda Frank, had come knocking on my door asking if I had been the woman that was in emergency delivery at the same time that she was on that day.  I was in a coma, and stayed in one for seven months.  You’re uncle Graham helped take care of you, and I know that you’ve heard about the hair tonic story, for the whole town has, and I know that I had told you about it when you started asking to go outside to play with the farm animals or to build a snowman. 

The rest of this letter is hard for me to write because I, like all other people, have sinned, and I know that God has already erased this from his chalkboard.  I hope you do the same…

Vonda Frank is her New York City stage name, and we all know her as Kathy.  I knew that you had hidden the dresses in the secret wall, and you had the right to do so because it was how your real mother wanted you to dress.  You only get to see her twice a year, and she wanted it that way because the glimmer and lights of New York City have a dark side, and it is no place for a young girl.  Hopefully, when I pass on, you will be able to make a choice: the Plain way or the New York City way.  Just in case, you chose my way, the way that I’ve raised you, here is your new clothes for adult life.  I could have been a bit off on how tall you’d get or what your waist measurements would be, but I tried my best; I used your twin sister, Rachael Anne, as the guide for the measurements.  If you choose your biological roots, you already have plenty of dresses. 

In the smaller box, is the money that Kathy has saved for you to join her in New York City and the money to hire an employee or two for the farms.  Per Kathy’s request, we have kept you inside since the hair tonic accident because the doctor knew about the switch, as he followed us here.  We didn’t want for all of his attention to be on you, or to drive him to drinking, for alcohol causes more problems, as you can see in the saloon.  The saloon just opened up last month, while I’m penning this letter, and four men have been shot and killed, and three men have left their wives.  We women have bonded together in prayer to pray that one day alcohol will be forbidden.  I hope that you pray too…

Please forgive me.  I look forward to seeing you in heaven, so please choose to wear your kapp.

Love Always,

Pearl Clara Miller

 

Charlotte was in a solid state of shock.  Was her mamm indicating that she wasn’t sick, that she didn’t have a strange disease?  Her body shook all over, for it was too much for her to handle.  Her eyes scanned the letter again and saw that her mother had mentioned the hair tonic accident, so it did happen, but had it caused her to become chronically ill? 

She looked down at the open chest and saw the beautifully hand-sewn cape dresses.  Closing her eyes, she lifted the navy one up to her chest and imagined feeling her mother’s embrace, her love, and most of all her faith.  Tears splattered on the new dress and she took her trembling fingers and tried to wipe them away.  How could a woman so close to the Lord lie?  How could a God-fearing man like her father go along with such a lie? 

Sure, she expected the town doctor, Kathy, and her uncle Graham to lie, for they were of the world; her parents weren’t in the world, for her close-knit Amish community had always protected them, kept them saved from straying, and kept them obedient to the rules of the church.  Could it be that the world in which she knew was flawed, that being separate wasn’t being separate at all?  She reached down and closed the chest shut and reached to open the larger trunk.  Pulling out a scarlet evening gown with matching gloves, hat, and umbrella, she turned and looking into the mirror, she closed her eyes and cried out to God, “God, you blessed them, so were the right?  Tell me, God! Which shall I wear?”

******

 

It took forever to get into town, and she knew that it was because she was anxious to meet her new boss, one that was generous enough to pay for her treatments.  The horses turned the sharp curve on the outskirts of town and made their way down Troyer’s Lane.  She remembered Rachael saying that it was past Troyer’s house and to the right. 

She waved at the Troyer children playing outside.  It was good that they could absorb the sunshine.  At this point, she had no clue whether the sun would kill her or not, or whether she was even sick at all, so she had the umbrella with her just in case her boss took her into town to get office supplies.

A large wooden cabin sat back off the right of the road behind a sparkling lake.  Long stems of water lilies guarded the lake, and as far as one could see, the lake curved around and ran to the right of the little cabin.  The wind’s hand blew soft ripples across the end of the lake, and there was a wooden pier with two chairs. 

Sitting at the lake, feeling the sun’s rays beat down on her skin, while sipping a tall glass of lemonade, sounded like a vacation all in itself, until she remembered that the sun could kill her.  She grimaced and become stressed.  Had Uncle Graham lied? Whether he lied or not, she’d still love him, for he was family, and after reading her “second” mother Pearl’s letter, she had to admit that alcohol was partly to blame. 

She jerked loose of the leather that was gripping the horses and jumped in horror.  The candy man was sitting on the front porch in a wooden rocker, his hands crossed across his chest, his playful eyes glistening.  When would he start getting mean?  He didn’t look like himself; he actually looked nice and friendly.  She shyly grinned and then ran her teeth across her bottom lip before her naturally peach face turned ruby red.  I have my kapp on young man! 

“You can’t work for me,” he bluntly informed, the wind smacking across his face, swaying his delicate hair.  “Go on home.”

What?  He wasn’t going to invite her onto the porch to sit next to him in the spare wooden rocker that sat empty next to his right?  Her feelings were hurt, but most of all, she felt bad for needing the money.  Actually, for needing the money before she’d opened the tin box that her biological mother Kathy had left her.  There were five thousand dollars in that tin box; her mother must have been a popular Broadway and Radio City star. 

She’d overheard Kathy telling Pearl that she would sit and talk to the train Captain at night when she’d take the train cross-country to Los Angeles.  Charlotte wanted to know more about her real mother.

“Don’t come back here.  I’m hiring one of Troyer’s daughters,” he snapped as he waved her away.  His dark blue suspenders looked new as did the crisp baby blue shirt that he wore.  He looked huggable, but she knew she shouldn’t blurt that out, for his rudeness today was more than she expected.  She would forget about him, cross him off her “Potential Courting List”, and move on.

“Yes Sir; I’ll never bother you again.  I’m going back and put on my evening gown since you’re not bragging about how I am dressed,” she wiggled her head to feel it: her kapp was still on, and she could see her black bonnet strings jungle around her chin. I am so proud of myself for being dressed proper this time. Surely he’ll brag on me.

Uncontrollable tears flowed down her eyes, but she didn’t care, for she didn’t have to ever speak to this rude man again.  The least that he could have done was to brag on her for having her kapp on.  She straightened up and turned the horses around before adding, “Have a good life Mr. Bender.  I have lots of cousins that have married Benders.”

He waved goodbye as she gave a quick glance back at the house and pier.  He had done a good job of firing her on her first day, and he knew it.

What a rude man, and she almost fell for him.  Greed and dominance were his main goals.  Her main goals were to leave Kathy alone since she had never wanted her in the first place and to skip the New York trip all together.  She needed to stay in her place, on the farm and not bother anyone.  The snotty lady that she’d met at Mr. Bender’s mobile candy stand had been right; she needed to go to a home. She didn’t fit in, and the farms had too many memories, so she’d sell them and move on. 

******

 

Roy Bender did something that he’d never done before: he cried, and he cried a lot.  He was so angry at having to turn Charlotte Miller away, but he had to follow Rule #2: Those that leave the flock can’t work for those in the flock.  It was a strict rule that his community back in Walnut Creek followed, and he wouldn’t get in trouble for breaking it.  He had lost many clients, friends, and even family because of following the rules, and it never affected him at all.  This time was different because he knew she would die without the money.  Sad things happen to sad people.  It was a fact of life.  Just like the day that he’d saw her, the only girl in town without proper weather protection, he’d sensed her sad story, but he couldn’t run a business based off pity; he was a hard businessman, a driven one, and it had earned him millions.

He picked his mind and remembered the perfume that she’d rubbed against his chest when she’d slid into his strong arms under the umbrella during the last storm.  It was one of a lavender scent, probably passed to her from her uncle, as he sold different scents, spices, and other wares.  He knew that she couldn’t afford such luxuries, so when it was gone, it was gone, and he hoped that she enjoyed its light, crisp scent while she could; maybe she could put just a little drop on the sides of her neck instead of using it liberally, for it could last longer.

“WOW, Bender; you are caught up in this girl’s plight!”  He shook his head and watched the black cloud come from the east.  His eyes rolled and anger entered him, for he had a lot of work to do, but he knew that she probably hadn’t packed an umbrella since she was donning Amish attire.  He jumped on his dark brown-coated horse and led it to the road.  It only took a few minutes to find her leading the horses.  Rain started to pour and the wind picked up fast; a bad storm was approaching as he rode up to the right of the buggy. 

“Can you go back to my place, Ms. Miller? I’ve called you here to work for me, and to be honest, a bad storm has come out of nowhere.  I don’t want people to think I’m rude.”

She turned and looked at him, her face a pale ivory and her eyes swollen.  Lose strings of blonde hair swayed across her forehead.  She did not speak.  She looked down in a studying gaze and flicked her left thumb up to her teeth; she was biting her nails. 

“I’m making you nervous.  Go to Troyer’s place then.  There are several women there, but I wanted to suggest them because the little one has had a fever for a week, so I figured that they didn’t need the stress of an uninvited guest.”  

Her hand went down in her lap but her head stayed down. “I’ll be okay.  I want to go home.  I’ve got farm animals to tend to.  If you see my Uncle Graham, please tell him that I need to see him right away.  I have an umbrella in the buggy.  I grabbed it last-minute just in case you had us going to town to get supplies.  I wanted to be prepared. I thank you for being so kind to come back to make sure that I was safe from the storm. Goodbye.”

“I trust your instincts young lady, goodbye.”  He nodded, and she stared at him and nodded back, “I’m staying in the house, where I’ve been for sixteen years.  I’ll never leave there. It was a mistake coming out of the house.  I am a special needs girl, so I may be going to a home.”

He shook his head.  “You can’t afford that Ma’am.”

I am not going yet.  I am going to knit beautiful scarves, shawls, and mittens for the ladies, and give my uncle a cut of the money.”

“You might do it then.  That’s a smart plan.  Good Luck.”  He nodded and then rode back towards his little cabin.