8
The next morning, Ellie couldn’t help noticing hardly anyone spoke at breakfast. She hadn’t slept well, finding it impossible to get comfortable, then rising to pace the floor in her room. Eventually, she’d opened the windows at each end of the narrow hall outside her room. All the while, she’d prayed, asking God for the right words to say to her brother, who seemed downright conflicted. He needs guidance from someone who’ll take him under his wing. But who? Would either Jonah or Rudy step forward to lead their ill-advised brother back onto the right path? But they had their own small farms to tend to, juggling their work at home with the orchard work with Dat. And they had families to look after.
Even Dawdi Hezekiah was uncharacteristically quiet as he ate, glancing every so often at Evan, who looked as solemn as when he’d returned from Jack Herr’s funeral more than two months ago. Evan drank his coffee and moved his scrambled eggs around with a fork, sporadically taking a bite.
Poor, weary Mamm slumped in her chair to the right of Dat. At one point, she started to speak but instead shook her head and reached for a glass of water, then her coffee, and then her water again.
To Ellie, it felt like the calm before a storm, and by the way her father’s jaw twitched, surely one was coming.
At noon, Mamm served a corned beef and cabbage casserole to all the family members who’d been working in the orchard. As with breakfast, Ellie said barely a word except to compliment her mother on the delicious meal.
Meanwhile, unlike his behavior earlier, Evan had piled food on his plate and was making quick work of it. Frankly, she had assumed he’d lost his appetite following yesterday’s lottery drawing. But now he didn’t seem bothered by the outcome.
She felt tense there at the table as Jonah, Rudy, and Titus began to rehash the details of the draft lottery, which they’d surely read about in the morning newspaper, The Intelligencer Journal.
“Sol’s lottery number is eight,” Jonah said, raking his hand through his bushy brown beard. “He told us the minute he arrived at work, mighty relieved that he registered as a CO last year.”
“Sol could share what he knows ’bout all of that with Evan,” Titus remarked as he buttered his bread roll.
It struck Ellie as odd that Titus was talking as if Evan wasn’t sitting right there with them.
Jonah leaned forward to look at Evan. “All ya have to do, little brother, is contact the local Amish Steering Committee. They’ll represent ya to the state officials and walk ya through everything ya need to do.”
Dawdi Hezekiah spoke up. “Of course, for that to work, ya’d have to be in right standin’ with the church—a baptized member or preparing to be. That’s for certain.”
Instead of replying, Evan reached for his tumbler of water and took a long drink.
Ellie wondered why her brothers hadn’t already discussed this with Evan this morning. Then she remembered he’d been out running errands for Dat in Paradise and Smoketown. It’s good he’s getting this advice now. She hoped he’d take it to heart—and soon. Time was running out for him to catch up on baptismal instruction.
“Son, are ya still leanin’ toward not registering as a conscientious objector?” Dat asked, his voice a bit husky. He didn’t wait for Evan to reply. “If you’ve changed your mind, you need to make immediate arrangements. As I understand it, the bishop will have to vouch for ya first.” He paused. “I’d be happy to go with ya to talk to him.”
Evan seemed to study Dat, paying close attention. “I’m in Rumschpringe, though, Dat,” he said quietly. “I’m not ready to take that step.”
“Rumschpringe! Are ya nuts?” Jonah scowled. “Haven’t ya run around long enough? I mean, Evan, you’ve got a gut head on your shoulders, so wake up and do the right thing. It could spare your life!”
Mamm nodded her agreement, her expression anxious. “You’ll think on all of this, won’t ya, son?”
Evan looked at her. He always took it seriously when Mamm spoke up.
“We love ya, Bruder . . . all of us,” Ellie said, having a hard time getting the words out. Her twin looked like he felt cornered, and though he’d brought this on himself, she felt strangely sorry for him.
Sitting up straighter, Evan reached for the casserole dish. He helped himself to generous seconds, and Ellie knew for sure the conversation was over.
At Friday market, Ellie couldn’t stop thinking about Evan’s demeanor at yesterday’s noon meal. The men around the table had certainly explained what he had to do if he’d changed his mind. She’d fallen asleep last night thinking of him, and even dreamed about him, though now she couldn’t remember what the dream was—something about Evan getting lost overseas.
She still wondered why he hadn’t responded to Dat and the others’ advice—or at least to Dawdi Hezekiah’s. Their grandfather had always had a soft spot in his heart for Evan. All the same, she worked diligently with Mamm at market, serving every customer. By the end of the afternoon, they’d sold all the homemade Dutch apple pies and apple fritters they’d brought, some of which Ruthann’s mother, Aendi Cora—Mamm’s sister—had purchased since she didn’t have time to bake for company she hadn’t been expecting.
When they returned home, Ellie hurried out to check the mailbox as a reprieve from her thoughts of Evan. She was glad to find a letter from Leah, but she and Mamm needed to get busy cooking. She waited till after supper and Bible reading with the family to read it, hardly able to keep her attention on her silent prayers while they all knelt together in the front room.
The minute they were finished, she excused herself and went up the stairs to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she sat on her bed, opened the envelope, and was surprised to see a photo of the three children Leah looked after while their mother worked as a nurse. The inscription on the back of the photo listed their names—Bobby, Lisa, and Kimberly. Ellie could see how pretty the three-year-old twin girls were with their auburn hair and blue eyes, alongside their handsome four-year-old brother, Bobby.
Dear Ellie,
Thanks for your long and interesting letter. I’m so glad you make sure I know what’s going on back home, and I always read your letters more than once when they arrive. To be honest, they help to ease my homesickness. Mamma writes faithfully, too, as does Sol—to my surprise—and two of my sisters-in-law sometimes send postcards. It’s nothing like being face-to-face with my family or my best friend, but I’m doing okay here, so don’t worry.
So, how are you this week? I’m sure you’re as busy as I am, except in a different way.
Oh, I must tell you about something that happened at market recently. I met some Amish folk, and it was such fun to talk with them in Pennsylvania Dutch. Anyway, the Amishwoman and her courting-age daughter invited me to come to their Preaching service sometime. Unfortunately, it’s too far for me to walk there, and I wouldn’t think of asking Carolyn to drive me on a Sunday. She likes to rest and spend the day with the children after working long hours all week at the hospital. So for now, at least, I’ll continue to enjoy reading my devotional book and the Bible instead.
As you know, I’ve also been teaching Bobby to say the Lord’s Prayer, like our Mammas taught us when we were little. It’s still hard to believe he had never heard of Jesus before I came! Little Lisa and Kimberly have started to wander over and listen when I read Bible stories to Bobby, who likes to sit right next to me on the sofa. The twins sit on the floor, peering up at me. It’s the sweetest thing.
Well, how’s the year’s first crop of apples? I remember walking in the orchard with you last July as we picked the ripe yellow apples off the trees. I’ll never forget all the secrets we shared through the years in that most beautiful place. I’m sure you remember, too.
Ellie leaned back on her headboard, holding the letter against her heart. “I’m happy for her,” she murmured, thankful Leah was making friends with other Amish there. She isn’t just spending time with Englischers after all.
Ellie savored every word as she read the rest of the letter, then placed it in her second dresser drawer with the others. Through the years, Ellie had also saved cards from her family, especially from Lydia, who lived two miles away with Titus and their five children and loved to keep in touch that way, as well as visits.
Ellie glanced at her wall calendar and wished she could mark the day, or at least the month, when Leah would return. But she doesn’t know how long she’ll be gone, Ellie thought, reminding herself to retain a grateful spirit. I’m thankful to you, Lord, for giving me the kind of friend who’s hard to say good-bye to.
She prepared for bed, then carefully pulled back the top quilt. Although it was a summer cover, tonight the room was much too warm for anything but her cotton nightgown. She checked to make sure all the windows were wide open, then sat on the room’s only chair and brushed her long hair as she prayed for each of her family members by name, beginning with Evan and lingering there before moving on to her other siblings and their families. She prayed for Dawdi Hezekiah, too. It was a blessing to have so many loved ones to pray for, she thought, then suddenly remembered Jack Herr’s family would always have a son missing.
When she came to Leah’s name, she prayed for Carolyn Madison and her children, too, since it seemed like they needed a special prayer just for them. And with her eyes closed, Ellie had a growing sense that God really had led Leah to be with this family.
The next morning—pulling the red wagon Dat purchased for her and Evan when they were little—Ellie took thermoses of cold water out to the orchard. Solomon was picking Yellow Transparent apples while standing on metal stilts. She could see that he was being careful not to bruise the branches or the fruit. His striking golden-blond hair, so like Evan’s, stood out from that of the other workers, who were over emptying their harvest crates into the waiting market wagon.
As always, Sol was kind as he thanked her for the water.
“Happy to help,” she said, wondering if now was a good time to ask him something. “Say, has Evan talked to ya at all ’bout the draft lottery?”
“Nee, but I’ve heard about his number from Jonah, Rudy, and Titus.”
“It’s strange, really—not sure what Evan’s thinkin’.”
“Seems to me he’s preoccupied with the outside world.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Sure hope I’m not speakin’ out of turn.”
“Nee, you’re right. He’s got at least one foot there.”
After a momentary pause, Sol said, “Leah says she’s been keepin’ in touch with you at least once a week by mail.”
“Jah. In fact, I got a letter from her just yesterday.”
Sol nodded pensively from where he was still perched on his metal stilts. His half-full harvest crate was strapped securely to his brawny shoulders and around his waist. “I have to say it’s still strange with Leah gone,” he told her. “Her place next to Mamm is empty at meals, left that way on purpose for when she returns.”
Ellie noticed Sol’s tone soften, and she understood how close he was to his sister. Like I am to Evan. “It’s sad not seein’ Leah at Singings and the summer gatherings—and knowin’ she’s not just up the road anymore.”
Sol removed a kerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “My parents are hopin’ she won’t be gone too long, but that’s up to Leah to decide.”
“She wrote that she’s still homesick, so maybe that means she’ll be ready to come home soon.” Even though it was the honest truth, she didn’t add that there was no better friend for her than Leah. Cousin Ruthann was a close second, for certain, but Ellie had never fully shared her heart with her. No reason to when I always had Leah to talk to, she thought as Sol opened the thermos and took a long drink.
“I thought there’d be a trial period, but she seems to love working there. Says she feels called to help this woman.”
Ellie smiled. “She was rather insistent ’bout that very thing when she first told me about goin’.”
Sol didn’t respond to that, and there was a lull between them. “By the way,” he said, his hazel eyes squinting in the sunlight, “it was fun double-dating with you and Menno that time we all went out the end of May.”
“It was,” Ellie replied, wishing Menno had been more talkative that evening, the last time she’d seen him before he left town.
Sol took another swig. “Maybe once Menno returns from the Big Valley, he’ll want to do it again.”
Ellie didn’t know enough to comment since she’d received only two postcards from Menno. She’d replied with a short letter and was looking forward to his return.
“Ya might also be interested to hear that Jonah has Menno on the alternate list for part-time peach pickers,” Sol said, then chuckled. “Say that fast five times.”
“Menno must be glad.”
“I would guess so.”
Ellie appreciated that Sol had told her this about his cousin. “Well, I should deliver the rest of these,” she said, glancing at the thermoses still lying in the wagon.
“Okay. See ya, Ellie.”
She smiled at how friendly Sol was and wondered if he’d asked Cousin Ruthann out again after that double-date. But then again, if he had, Ruthann wouldn’t have been able to hide her excitement.
While redding up her room later that morning, Ellie opened the hope chest that had belonged to her mother as a teen. The lid was as solid as the rest of the oak chest handcrafted by Mamm’s eldest brother, Jesse.
Ellie reorganized the contents, then placed inside the new set of pillowcases she’d embroidered recently. As far as linens and blankets and such, she now had practically everything she would need to set up housekeeping as a newlywed. The only thing missing was an honest-to-goodness steady beau. Might Menno be that person? He was very nice and as polite as he was strong—she’d heard he could toss a bale of hay like it was a feather. But she didn’t know him all that well yet, since they’d had only that one double-date before he left for the Big Valley. All the same, she would be patient. If Menno even considers me a potential sweetheart . . .
She lowered the lid on the chest and turned to look out one of the windows at the orchard below, still one of the main reasons she liked having her room up here. She could see her mother walking across the side yard to the fruit store. Mamm was already betrothed to Dat at my age, she thought, wondering what God had planned for her own future.
In the near distance, an early firecracker exploded, then three more—pop, pop, pop! The sounds startled her out of her musing. Someone must be in a hurry to celebrate Independence Day, she thought, looking forward to her sister and family coming for ice cream after supper. There wouldn’t be any firecrackers here, but there would be candy sprinkles and chocolate syrup to drizzle over Dat’s creamy, homemade vanilla ice cream. Hopefully, Evan would be on hand to enjoy the celebration with them, too.
That evening at supper, Dawdi Hezekiah seemed more like himself for the first time since Evan’s announcement, telling one story after another. Ellie enjoyed his lighthearted demeanor and perked up when he started talking about how, since boyhood, he’d always sought to be prepared for anything.
“Like what?” Evan asked between bites.
“Well, for the unavoidable, for instance.” Dawdi gave a nod of his white head. “That’s why I’ve decided to build my own coffin,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.
“I measured myself from head to toe and located some used pine wood. Should be all ready to start.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Mamm said, eyebrows aloft.
“Several of my uncles did this very thing,” Dawdi said. “So I’ll be prepared like they were, and yous won’t have to bother havin’ one built at the last minute.” Dawdi reached for another dinner roll and slathered butter and some thick strawberry jam on it, seemingly untroubled at the thought of his own end.
Evan was clearly paying attention to the conversation now. “Never heard of such a thing.”
“Puh! Folks said the selfsame thing back when I planted my big orchard,” Dawdi retorted.
“And the orchard worked out fine,” Dat said with a smile. “And continues to.”
Ellie disliked thinking about Dawdi’s passing. “I wish ya wouldn’t talk about coffin building.” She glanced at Evan, who nodded in agreement.
Dawdi waved the comment away. “Well, as the Good Book says, ‘It is appointed unto men once to die.’”
“Still, it’s too soon for ya to talk this way, Dawdi.” Ellie wished for a different topic.
“All in Gott’s time,” he replied. “And no need to weep for me when I’m gone, Ellie-girl. I’ll be home with the Lord who made me, who planned for me to be born Amish and live a right gut life . . . well, ’cept for that long-ago trial I had durin’ the Great War.”
Dat frowned and coughed a little, and Ellie wondered what on earth Dawdi meant.