9

Lyle was turning the hand-crank ice cream maker on the walkway out back when Evan hurried down the porch steps and out to the carriage shed. When he pushed his open courting carriage out to the lane, Lyle wondered what was up.

He asked his father, who was sitting on the glider, to crank for a while, then headed over to Evan. “Did ya forget Lydia and her family are comin’ over?”

Evan rubbed his chin. “That’s tonight? I already made plans,” he said right quick. “I’ll have to see Lydia another time . . . and Titus’ll be workin’ with me in the orchard tomorrow, so . . .”

“This is family time, son.” Lyle’s words flew out faster than he could stop them.

Evan bobbed his head. “I’ll make it up to them.” Then he stepped toward the stable, no doubt to get Cupcake.

He’s going to celebrate the Fourth somewhere else, Lyle assumed, walking back to where Daed was steadily cranking.

His father frowned. “Your face is mighty red.”

Lyle ignored the comment. “I’ll take it from here,” he said, and his father went back up to the glider and sat with a groan.

“Evan has developed a mind of his own, Lyle,” Daed said from where he was rocking now.

Lyle glanced at him. “Seems that way.”

“The harder ya question and push, the worse it’ll get.”

Lyle shook his head. “I hate to see Evan ruin his life. And his future.” He thought how, during World War I, his father had endured so much to preserve his pacifist values by refusing all forms of service. And now, here was his grandson, willing to set that aside and act as if he was an Englischer. Truth be known, Lyle was furious. Yet he was also worried for Evan, who didn’t have any idea what he was getting into. He could end up dead.

“Remember, we rely on Gott to keep goin’ no matter what’s happening round us,” Daed said. “’Tis hard to stand back and watch, I know,” he added. “But we’ll keep Evan in our prayers.”

Daed was right . . . and wise. Lyle turned the crank all the faster as he watched Evan hitch Cupcake to the courting carriage. He offered a silent prayer for divine protection over his unbaptized son.

Ellie stepped out the side door to greet Lydia and her family while Titus tied their horse to the hitching post near the carriage shed. The evening was beginning to cool, not nearly as hot and muggy as it had been all day. Twelve-year-old Pete and nine-year-old Sammy followed Dawdi and Dat out to the barn, while Ida, eight, Verna, seven, and five-year-old Alma scurried into the house to greet Mamm.

Once Ellie was in the kitchen as well, towheaded Alma hugged her tightly around her waist and grinned up at her, revealing a missing front tooth. “I couldn’t wait to see you, Aendi,” she said in Deitsch.

“I’m glad yous came for ice cream,” Ellie said, heading to the sink to show Alma the hand-crank ice cream maker.

“Dat has one like this, too. I help him turn the handle sometimes.”

“Your Mamma says you’re a gut helper.”

Alma smiled, seeming to take it all in. “When I’m all grown up like you, I want to make lots of ice cream.”

Ellie cupped her niece’s little chin with her hand. “I’m sure you will.”

“And have lots of children,” Alma added.

Ellie grinned. “You and your future husband will have as many as God gives ya.”

She and Alma stepped back outside to walk barefoot through the rows of tall sweet corn, as the little girl liked to do this time of year.

Later, when the sun was lower in the sky, they all assembled indoors while Ellie and Mamm dished up the vanilla ice cream in bowls and placed the sprinkles and chocolate syrup on the counter so everyone could help themselves. Mamm had also laid out thinly sliced canned peaches and peach preserves for toppings. Dat bowed his head in a silent prayer over the dessert, and everyone else did the same.

After the prayer, while most of the family stayed inside, Ellie headed to the porch steps to sit with Lydia for a few minutes. Mamm’s spider plant dangled nearby nestled in macramé, moving slightly in the breeze across from the long flypaper.

“Where’s Evan tonight?” Lydia asked, dipping her spoon into her ice cream.

“Wish I knew.”

Lydia’s eyes searched hers. “Everything all right?”

Ellie simply shook her head, too emotional to say.

“Is it the draft? Jonah told Titus about it, and he told me.”

“That, and other things.” She didn’t know for sure, but she wondered if Evan had gone to spend the evening with Cheryl Herr again.

“Mamm does seem a bit worried,” Lydia replied.

Ellie nodded. “But she has a way of putting on a gut face . . . most times.”

Lydia scooped up another spoonful of her ice cream, not saying more about that. After a time, she said more softly, “I hate the thought of Evan spendin’ all his time with Englischers like he does.”

So Lydia knew about that, too. “Well, he’s been minglin’ with them plenty while still livin’ at home,” Ellie said glumly. Seems like we’re spinning our wheels about Evan. He’s all anyone wants to talk about.

After eating their ice cream, all the adults visited on the porch while the children took turns sitting on the glider, then played hide-and-seek. After a while, they played catch with a large ball Dat had purchased for gatherings like this.

Later, Ellie and little Alma walked hand in hand out to see Nelly and Captain in the stable.

“I miss Onkel Evan,” the little girl said. “Where is he?”

It was so unlike Evan to slip out of a family get-together. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m sure you’ll see him again soon.”

“I hope so,” Alma said in her adorable little voice. “He makes me giggle, like Dawdi Hezekiah does.”

“Dawdi does have a gut sense of humor.”

Alma nodded as she reached up to touch Nelly’s nose over the stall door. “My Dat makes up silly stories, too.”

Ellie hugged her. “Our family does have some interesting storytellers.”

Alma’s words echoed in Ellie’s mind long after Lydia and her family had left for home. Then after Dat and Mamm headed for bed, she decided to stay dressed and wait on the porch steps for Evan’s return. Besides, it was so hot in her top-floor room.

It was almost midnight when he pulled into the lane. Quickly, he unhitched and led Cupcake to the stable, then pushed his buggy into the carriage shed. Ellie could hear him whistling as he made his way across the yard toward the house. When he looked up, she waved to him.

“Still awake?” he asked, sounding a little hoarse as he sat down next to her.

Evan’s breath smelled strange, but she tried to ignore it. “Can’t a girl wait up for her brother?”

He smiled. “Did ya have a nice time with the family?”

She said she did and told him what little Alma had said about him.

“Alma’s a sweetie,” he said, then leaned forward, staring at the ground.

“You okay?”

“Prob’ly had a little too much to drink after we left the Herr place.”

So that’s what she’d smelled on his breath. “Oh, Evan. What were ya thinkin’?”

“There were drinks at the Herrs’, too.”

“You spent time with Jack’s family, then?”

“Not long, really.” Evan sat up straighter now. “Chuck Herr talked me into tagging along with him and a few other guys to Long’s Park in Lancaster, where a live band was playing antiwar songs. Chuck’s so mad ’bout Jack’s death that he said he needed to march around with others protesting, so I went with him for somethin’ to do. He was chanting with that crowd till his voice nearly gave out.”

“Chanting what?” She wondered why her brother had gone at all, especially if he wasn’t going to register as a conscientious objector.

“Just some stuff ’bout Tricky Dick and a no-reason war.”

“’Bout who?” Ellie asked, puzzled.

“President Nixon. He keeps tryin’ to end the war but can’t pull it off—or so Chuck says.” Evan rubbed his chin. “There must’ve been a thousand people at the park tonight, maybe more. And policemen everywhere.” He sighed. “Some guys were burnin’ American flags. Several were arrested for it—I saw ’em being handcuffed and taken away.”

Ellie shuddered. “Arrested? That’s awful.”

Evan nodded.

“You took a big risk by goin’, don’t ya think?”

“It was pure chaos, but I wasn’t anywhere near those arrested. Stayed clear of that.”

“Well, I’m so glad you’re home safe now.” She sighed. “It was nice and quiet here ’cept for the children runnin’ around and playing. Oh, and Pete and Sammy had fun in the haymow. Sammy finally got brave enough to try the rope swing,” she said, trying to change the subject.

“It’s about time he got some courage. Too many cowards in the world right now.”

She sensed he was talking about something completely different. “Little Sammy’s not a coward, Evan.”

“Nee, but a lot my age are. . . . Yankee guys talking ’bout driving up to Canada to avoid the draft. Get this: The day of the lottery, Chuck yelled at me for not seeking CO status—called me plain stupid. He did it again tonight. Said he’d be quick to sign up for it if he were in my place. I was tempted to shout back at him that he and his friends are nothin’ but scared chickens.”

Ellie shook her head. Did Evan think the peacemaker Amish were chickens? “I just wonder why ya went with Chuck tonight . . . if ya didn’t want to. Ya would have had more fun here.”

“I told you, he twisted my arm. Sure, it’s gut for any war to end—or never start—but I’m not protesting this one. It’s not won yet.” Evan got up from the step. “Well, it’s late, and I need to be up early tomorrow.”

“Jah,” she said, rising to follow him into the house. “What’ll ya tell Dat and Mamm ’bout where ya went?”

“As little as possible.”

Again, Ellie was at a loss for words. Baffled, really.

Sure ain’t the brother I used to know.