Chapter Sixteen

 

 

When Hal drove in at the Lapp farm the next afternoon, clothes swayed gently on the line behind the clinic. With the coming of warm weather, the gusty, cold blasts of winter leftover wind had turned into gentle, warm caresses that promised summer. Just the right drying conditions to put a fresh smell into laundry.

Noah and Daniel were playing catch near the garden. School was out. The boys had time to play between chores.

In the kitchen, Emma was bustling back and forth to the table. She sat down a plate of cookies on a dishtowel and wrapped the towel around the plate. The table was completely covered with spread out dishtowels, three quart jars of tea and sandwiches.

“What is going on here?” Hal asked.

“We need something to cheer us up and take the taste of Stella Strutt out of our mouths,” said Emma. The way she knotted the bundle, with such intensity, made Hal wonder if Emma wanted to do the same thing to Stella.

The boys, racing each other, rushed in and slammed the front door. Daniel made it to Hal first. “Mama Hal, we are going on a picnic.”

“Really? What fun,” Hal said.

“Really,” Noah concurred.

“I can’t wait,” she said, clapping. “What is your father doing today?”

“He cannot come,” Daniel said.

“He is mowing hay today. If he has good luck, he should be done by chore time.” Emma bundled the sandwiches and knotted the dishtowel. “We waited to eat until you got home, Hallie. Now we are starving. We are ready to go.”

“Where are we going?” Hal asked.

Daniel giggled. “Where on this farm do you think we would have a picnic?”

“Oh,” Hal said and tapped her lips as if that was a hard question. “The picnic grove?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, bracing himself on one foot then the other. He was ready to take off.

Emma commanded, “Do not leave until you pick up a bundle, Noah and Daniel. Each of us has to carry food.”

The boys grabbed the closest dishtowels and ran for the door.

“They certainly are eager to have a picnic,” Hal said, laughing.

“It has been awhile since we have wanted to have fun. I am glad my brothers are looking forward to this,” Emma said as she handed Hal a bundle. “Oh, oh, I wonder if Noah forgot to let the horses out of the pen. Dad said the grass is tall enough that they could be turned loose in the pasture now.”

Emma grabbed the last bundle and hurried out the door. She pounded down the porch steps with Hal trying to keep up. Her brothers were halfway down the lane to the pasture.

“Noah,” Emma yelled.

Noah twisted and yelled back. “What?” He kept walking backward.

Emma cupped a hand around her mouth. “Did you remember to let the horses out this morning?”

Noah and Daniel stopped and looked at each other. Hal couldn’t hear what they said, but Noah handed Daniel his bundle and sprinted back toward the barn.

“Guess not,” Hal said softly.

“After going to school all day for months, it is hard to get back into the routine at home, but my brothers will. I will see to that.” Emma sounded earnestly determined. “Come, Hallie.”

Hal didn’t know whether to smile or be worried about co-existing in the same house with Emma. For a couple years now, the girl had practiced being the Lapp taskmaster. Since she had quite a bit of experience under her apron strings, Emma was good at it by now. Hal had the feeling she best become a quick learner in regard to being a productive member of this family. If she wasn’t, Emma would be a hard taskmaster to her as well.

The pasture grass was tall and lush, hiding most of the pond except for the clear blue middle. A rooster pheasant croaked. Mourning doves answered with coos. The milk cows stopped grazing and lined up to watch the group hike to the picnic grove. Here and there a thistle raised its pink head. Small wild rose bushes covered with pink blooms were scattered about. Larger multiflora rose bushes, full of small white blooms, mingled with the cedar trees. Mullein stalks had turned into bright yellow blooms.

Breathless, Noah caught up beside Daniel. He took his bundle back.

The horses, bucked and snorted, running a race around the pond. The ruckus they made scared a flock of mallard ducks that had been lazily floating on the water. They quacked in protest as they rose with a loud flapping of wings and flew off. The horses straightened and made a lap across the pasture, dodging in and out among various sized cedar trees. They headed right at the cows, scattering them.

“My goodness, look at the horses go. They’re glad to be free,” said Hal, stopping to watch the four horses.

“That they are,” Noah agreed.

Hal put her arm around Noah’s shoulder. “Have you ever noticed how different horses are from cows?”

Noah shrugged his shoulders. “No.”

“Well, cattle when let out to pasture immediately begin to eat like they’re starved when they really aren’t. On the other hand, horses don’t think about food. They love the feel of freedom and the space to run,” observed Hal.

“That is true,” said Noah.

“Which would you be if you had a choice, Noah, a horse or a cow?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Depends on if I’m hungry or not.” Noah grinned at her. “Right now I would be a cow.” He glanced at Emma and Daniel entering the trees. “We better catch up. Emma and Daniel are as hungry as us. They intend to eat whether we come or not.”

Hal darted off, shouting over her shoulder, “Race you there.”

Noah caught up to her and past her as they entered the grove. They dropped down on the ground, trying to get their wind back. Gooseberry bushes, blackberry and raspberry brambles bordered the clearing. All the plants were filled with white blooms. Clusters of May apples with large umbrella shaped leaves mingled among the undergrowth. A small thicket of wild plum trees, in full bloom, made the clearing smell sweet.

Emma, tongue in cheek, said, “If you two are done horsing around we can eat.” She handed Hal a sandwich and a cup of tea.

This was the time that Hal had dreamed about and waited for. She loved listening to the children, talking, laughing, scolding, and teasing each other. They felt like hers as sure as if they were born to her. Not quite hers yet, but they would be when John Lapp was legally her husband.

As soon as they devoured the sandwiches, Emma held out the cookie plate. “Ready for some cookies?”

“I’ll take two,” Hal said.

Noah and Daniel helped themselves. As soon as the boys gobbled down their cookies, Noah said, “I brought the ball. We can play catch, Daniel Lapp.”

Hal leaned back against a walnut tree and watched the boys race through the trees, headed for the open pasture. “They sure have more energy than I do.”

“Me, too,” Emma said.

“I’ve been wondering something. Why do Plain People use both a person’s first and last names all the time when they talk to someone or about them?”

Plopping down beside her, Emma crossed her legs Indian fashion and smoothed her skirt. “It is always done that way. You would have to ask Dad to know for sure, but I think the reason is so many Plain people have the same first names and last names. For instance, there might be an Emma Yoder, Emma Miller and Emma Lapp. No one would know which one you were talking about if you did not use both given and last name.”

“Makes sense,” said Hal, yawning. “Now that my stomach is full, I’m getting sleepy. I think I’m going to go for a walk to wake back up.”

“After I get the dishes bundled up, I’ll join you,” Emma said, gathering the plates and jars.

The picnic grove was a colorful, peace-filled place on this perfect day. As Hal came through the trees, she saw all sorts of wild flowers; delicate, white Dutchman breeches, yellow violets, jack in the pulpit, and several different colors of phlox.

She past two markers. A small one that marked the spot where they had buried their letters to Diane Lapp and a larger one over Patches’s grave. She stepped into the open close to the boys. Daniel threw the ball at Noah. Noah missed the catch. As the ball bounced past him in the grass, Hal scooped the ball up and threw it back to him.

“You leaving?” Noah asked, catching the ball.

“Just going to walk off my lunch. Thought I’d like to look at the pond,” Hal said.

“Noah replied evenly, “All right.”

Daniel, his face strained, warned, “Stay away from the edge so you do not fall in, Mama Hal.”

“I’ll be careful,” she assured him.

The large mound of earth called a pond dam ran along one end. From the barn to the pond, a cow path led to a sloped place in the bank, making a beaten, dried mud path to the water. That low spot in the pond, where run-off occurred in rainy seasons, was a jungle of cattails and reeds. Frogs heard her rustling steps in the grass. With grumpy croaks, they jumped high into loud splatting dives, splashing into the green, murky moss covered water along the pond’s edge.

The ducks had landed again on the other end of the pond. Busy feeding on plant matter under the water, the ducks had their twitchy tails and padding feet sticking straight up. The noisy frogs got the attention of the mallards. The ducks sat upright and stretched their necks high, quacking softly among themselves. They paddled in a circle, giving her a watchful surveillance.

Hal’s shadow fell over the water as she walked across the dam. Small fish darted away from the bank, turning into brief shadows as they dived deeper. When she got as far as the fence that ran close to end of the pond, she turned and started back. Just as she thought. The pond was stocked. A bluegill jumped up. It splashed back under the water, leaving a wake that grew from a small ring to a bigger one as it floated away. Close to the bank, bubbles brewed to the surface as fish fed. One of these days, she wanted to bring the children fishing. Maybe if they thought of this as a place to have fun, they wouldn’t always associate the pond with the terrible memories of what happened to their mother.

Soft click-clacks of a horse’s hooves seemed close. Hal looked ahead of her. One of the horses was on the dam, headed toward her. The red horse, with a dark red mane, made a blowing snort and nickered quietly, nodding its head up and down.

“Shoo, Ben. Don’t come this way,” Hal scolded, waving her hands in the air.

The horse nickered again but kept coming.

Hal looked on either side of her. The dam was too narrow for her to get around that big horse. The fence was behind her and along the dam. She had no place to go.

“Ben, go away,” she shouted, clapping her hands to scare him.

The noise didn’t work. The horse kept plodding slowly toward her, its head nodding up and down.

“If you’re still mad at me, I’m sorry you went in circles. Please stop,” Hal begged. She held her hands up, palms out, and darted a glance toward the grove. The boys had disappeared.

“Help!” She yelled. “Help me!” She focused on the horse. “John is going to teach me how to drive better. I promise. Stop now,” she ordered, backing up.

The horse kept coming right at her. What was it Samuel said to her? She should have told Ben to whoa when she drove him in circles.

Hal had to stop the horse from trampling her. She yelled, “Whoa.”

The horse snorted through flared nostrils as if making fun of her command and kept prodding at her.

Maybe she hadn’t been forceful enough. She had to say it like she meant it. She put her hands on her hips and said angrily,

“Whoa, Ben. Whoa.” Maybe that horse didn’t spook easy, but she sure did. He wasn’t listening. Not one word soaked into that stupid horse’s birdbrain head. She looked toward the picnic grove and screamed, “Help me.”

“We’re coming,” Noah called, bursting out of the trees.

“Thank goodness,” Hal said, backing away from the horse. The fence was close behind her. She had no place else to go. She stopped and waved her hands. “Please, whoa, Ben,” she begged.

The horse gave a teeth baring grin and closed in on her. Hal held her hands out in front of her. The horse nudged her palms gently at first with its nose, then gave a harder butt with its head. The force was enough to knock Hal over backward. Flip flopping down the rocky dam, Hal’s head connected with a large rock.

Ouch. That hurt, she thought just before she did another head over heels flip and sank into the pond. The cold water was shock enough to keep her from passing completely out. She turned over, sat up in the chest deep water and sputtered to empty her mouth.

The excited chatter of the children came to her as the grass rustled under their running feet. The horse looked down at her and nickered as if laughing at her. Hal tried to focus on him, but all she saw was a mountainous, fuzzy, red blur.

Daniel cried, “OOF!”

“Watch where you are walking. You slipped on a cake of kilrick. Now you will stink,” Noah scolded.

“Hurry you two. We need to help Hallie,” Emma ordered.

By the time the children peered over the dam at her, Hal was sitting waist deep in water, holding her head. The horse snorted and pawed the dam as if daring her to climb back out while he was watching. Loose rocks and clay chunks rained into the pond, sending small waves of water Hal’s way.

Noah grabbed the horse around the neck, turned it around and headed it back along the dam. Following along behind, Daniel slapped the horse’s hip. Trotting through the grass, the horse twisted its back end one way than the other. The beast gave a fast kick with both feet high in the air and raced away.

Emma scrambled down the side of the dam. “Hallie, are you all right?”

“Please, do not drown, Mama Hal.” Daniel’s voice was filled with anguish. His fists were clenched at his sides.

Noah rushed past Daniel. “Help me get her out of the water. She is not going to drown. The water is not deep enough.”

Daniel sank to the ground and hugged his knees. Tears ran down his face. “Mama Hal is going to die.”

“Noah, I will help you,” Emma said as she waded out after him into the water. She touched Hal’s temple. “You have a cut on your head, Hallie. Can you stand up?”

“I think so,” Hal said, splashing water on the kids as she made an effort to get on her feet. She felt her feet sucked under the mud much like quicksand would do and worried about how deep she would sink. The heavy mud swirled over her tennis shoes, weighing her feet down.

Emma and Noah grabbed Hal's arms to steady her. Together, they waded through the mud riled water.

Listening to Daniel cry, Emma looked toward the dam. “Poor boy, he is really upset.”

Hal stopped watching where she was wading. Her heart did a nose dive. The boy’s distraught face told her he thought he was going to lose another mother to this pond.

“Stop a minute,” Hal whispered. She called to the boy, “Daniel, can you come down to the water and help pull me up the bank?”

“No,” Daniel sobbed, shaking his head. “Oh no, I am scared.”

“It is no use, Hallie. He is too afraid,” Emma said softly.

“Probably start sleepwalking again already,” Noah predicted. “At least, it is warm weather this time.”

“I so wanted to bring you kids to fish in this pond. Daniel has to get over his fears if we’re going to have fun here,” whispered Hal. She called, “Please, Daniel. Our feet are covered with murky mud. The bottom of our shoes are so slick, we won’t be able to make it up the dam by ourselves.”

Daniel stood up. Slowly because she asked for his help, he headed toward the nightmare he’d had over and over the last two years. He slid down the bank. At the edge of the water, he held his hands out to take Hal’s so he could help her.

“I’m really getting tired. Can you come out in the water a little ways to me? I can’t quite reach you yet,” Hal said, stretching her arms out to him.

Daniel teetered on the edge of the water. His face blanched as he took a step and felt the cold water rush around his leg. He hesitated and looked back up at his safe place on the dam.

“You can do it, Daniel,” Hal assured him.

The little boy stuck his other foot in the water. He took a deep breath as the cold water moved against him. Keeping his eyes on Hal’s face, Daniel slowly waded to her. He kept his arms stretched out. As soon as he was close enough, Hal took his hands.

“Oh, Daniel, I'm so proud of you for helping me,” said Hal, gathering him in her arms.

“Hallie, would it be all right with you if we continue this conversation on dry land?” Emma complained. “This water is cold.”

Once they reached the top of the dam, Hal looked around warily. “Where is that mean horse?”

“Do not worry. She has gone to join the others,” Noah said.

“Now sit, Hallie,” Emma said, helping her down. “How do you feel?”

“Silly for falling into the pond,” she said, touching the sore place on her forehead.

“You have a lump coming up fast and a cut. Blood is running down the side of your face. Are you dizzy?” Emma asked.

Pale-faced and worried, Daniel sit down beside Hal and took her hand, wanting to comfort her.

“No, but thanks to that horse we are all soaking wet.” She glanced at the children. “Why wouldn’t Ben stop? He was bound to dunk me in that pond and nothing I said stopped him.”

“That was not Ben,” Noah said.

“Was that my problem, I called him the wrong name?”

“The horse is a mare. Her name is Molly. Sometimes, she is a little over friendly,” Noah said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“A little over friendly! I wish you had told me about this before I took off on my own. I wouldn’t have walked away from your protection if I had known. I gave Molly the perfect opportunity to knock me in the pond,” Hal complained.

“She did not do it on purpose,” Daniel said, patting her hand. “She likes you.”

“Butting me means she likes me!” She saw the quizzical look on the boy’s face, and her sense of humor came back. “I’d hate to see how she’d treat me if she didn’t like me,” said Hal, laughing.

As she walked off the dam, Hal's mud-soaked tennis shoes made a gross sucking sound, squish, squish. The kids paused to look down at her feet. Hal gave her shoes a disgusted glance. “I can't stand these wet shoes. They sound and feel horrible.”

“Hallie, sit down and take them off. It is about time you started going barefoot like we do,” Emma said with a grin.

Sitting under the maple tree in the house yard, John watched Hal and the children trudge up the pasture lane. Their soaked clothes were plastered to them. Hal was carrying her shoes, wet and mud covered.

Sipping on a glass of tea, his eyes narrowed at the sight in front of him. The closer they came the more puzzled he became. “Oh, my! You are as wet as drowned rats. Go for a swim in the pond?”

“We did,” Hal said, winking at Daniel.

“Looks like you picked the mossy end. The west end is a cleaner spot to swim,” John suggested, his eyes twinkling.

“Now you tell us,” Hal said with mock exasperation.

John noticed blood trickling down the side of Hal’s head. He jumped to his feet and turned Hal’s face sideways. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just connected with a rock.”

John sniffed several times. He looked from one to the other and finally focused on Daniel’s besmeared, brown stained pant leg. “You do not smell pretty good, my son.”

Noah sniggered. “He fell in a fresh cake of kidrick.”

Daniel frowned. He didn’t like being the center of attention.

Hal wiped a string of slimy, dried moss from her shoulder. “Not only are we wet, but we brought part of the pond back with us. We have to get out of these clothes and wash up.”

“You do not have other clothes here,” Emma reminded her.

“No,” Hal said. “And wouldn’t it be just my luck, Stella Strutt would show up as soon as I put on one of your mother’s dresses?” Hal’s eyes brightened. “Wonder what she’d say if she caught me in your father’s shirt and pants?”

“You need to be dry so maybe we better risk finding out,”

Emma said. “While we’re at it, I need to clean that cut on your head.”

“Wait a minute. Are you going to ask me if you can borrow my clothes?” John asked with a crooked grin.

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t mind. You’d hate to see me catch a cold. Besides, while Emma lays out your clothes in the spare room for me, you and I need to have a talk about the rude manners of your horse named Molly.”