14

At their father’s request, Ellie went with Evan to make peach deliveries in the market wagon. These trips were one of her brother’s regular responsibilities, and though he didn’t say, Ellie imagined Dat was thinking she might be able to make them once Evan was gone. Maybe Evan thought so, too. It was already the twentieth of August, so it probably wouldn’t be much longer before he had to leave.

This was the first she’d done this, though, so at each location Evan introduced her as his sister.

“Do ya ever wish we could purchase more land to expand the orchard?” she asked him between two of their stops.

“Can’t say I have.” Her twin glanced at her from the driver’s seat, the reins practically resting on his knees as he held on. “Why do ya ask?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ how nice it’d be to plant plum and cherry trees . . . if some land became available.”

“All our surrounding neighbors are Amish farmers.”

Which means they’ll pass the land down to their children, she thought, still wishing Evan might toss the idea around with her. But he remained silent, his mind apparently on other things.

“S’pose you’ll be seein’ Cheryl Herr again this weekend,” she said in an attempt to draw him out.

“I want to see her as often as I can before I leave.”

Ellie was still surprised at his strong attachment to Cheryl, fancy as the young woman was. She compared it to her and Menno’s experience of double-dating with not only Sol and Ruthann but Yonnie and Katie, too.

“She says she’ll wait for me till I return in two years.”

“Two years is a big commitment.”

“For sure, and no girl’s ever cared for me like that.”

“Well, you’ve never gone to war before.”

“Nee, but just think of what she’s doin’ . . . for me.”

Ellie pondered that. “So you’re sure Cheryl has absolutely no interest in becomin’ Amish?”

“Puh! Never! I told ya already.”

“Our parents aren’t going to like it if ya continue on with an Englischer, Evan. And ya know that Dat’s expectin’ you to take over as the orchard’s manager when he retires.”

“He won’t let me forget. Another big challenge.”

Ellie shook her head, ever so sad for him—yet frustrated, too.

“Dawdi, Dat, our siblings . . . nearly everyone I know ’cept Cheryl has tried to steer me in a different direction.”

“Doesn’t Cheryl worry ’bout you goin’ to fight in the war?”

Evan glanced at Ellie. “Actually, she wishes I’d asked for CO status like Chuck urged me to. But she’s not poundin’ away at it like everyone else seems to. She’s not like that.”

Miserable, Ellie sighed. What more could she say?

Two days later, while taking a quick break from picking peaches, Ellie strolled down their shady lane to get the mail. As she retrieved the letters from their big black mailbox, she noticed at the very top an important-looking envelope with the words Official Business in the upper left-hand corner and Selective Service Board written beneath that. It was addressed to Mr. Evan Hostetler. She felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach as she strode back to the house, suspecting what might be inside. How long before her brother had to leave?

She chose not to take the letter out to the orchard for Evan. For one thing, she didn’t know precisely where he was picking peaches, and for another, she didn’t want to be the one to give it to him.

Once inside the house, Ellie placed the mail on the kitchen table and returned to the orchard, strapping on her harvesting crate. She was thankful for the cloud cover now, hot as it had been. She could hear Midnight and Shadow, Benjamin Bontrager’s German shepherds, barking two farms away, and her thoughts flew to Leah. I’ll write her a letter later tonight, she thought, needing to share her thoughts with her friend.

Lyle was thankful that numerous customers had purchased the day’s fresh peaches and freshly baked pies and cobblers at their family’s store. At closing, he hurried across the side yard and into the kitchen hallway, where he removed his shoes and socks in the utility room he’d built years ago at Elisabeth’s request. The outer room with a deep sink and ample space for shoes and outerwear was one way to keep the orchard dirt from tracking into the kitchen. For good measure, he’d also put in a bathroom just steps away.

Once the Saturday clientele had begun to thin out, Elisabeth had returned to the house to prepare supper. He watched her now as she placed a large bowl of cold macaroni salad on the table before returning to the woodstove. She had grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with help from Ellie, who was slicing fresh tomatoes from their garden. Meanwhile, Evan stood at the opposite end of the kitchen, opening a letter.

Observing his son with some trepidation—Evan rarely received mail—Lyle took his seat at the head of the table and folded his hands, waiting for his family to be seated.

Elisabeth wiped her hands on her work apron and reached behind her to untie it, then came to sit on Lyle’s right.

“Isn’t Daed eating with us tonight?” he asked her.

“Oh, he’s havin’ supper with Enos.”

Lyle knew that Daed was fond of his recently widowed younger brother. Anytime he was invited for a meal, or for the day, he was more than happy to go.

Ellie sat down to the right of her mother. “Supper’s on the table,” she announced, looking over at her brother.

Bringing the letter to the table, Evan placed it near Lyle’s plate. “Well, guess it’s official. I’ve been drafted into the United States Army,” he said as he took his seat to Lyle’s left.

“Let’s bow for prayer,” Lyle said, frustrated that Evan had practically pushed the draft notice under his nose. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to direct thoughts of gratitude to God for this provision of food set before them.

When the prayer was finished, he cleared his throat and raised his head to see Evan staring at the induction notice.

“Son?”

“Ach, sorry.” Evan tapped the letter. “I’m to report for my physical on Monday, September twenty-first, at the Military Entrance Processing Station in Harrisburg,” he said casually. “If I’m fit enough, I’ll go directly to basic training from there.”

Lyle couldn’t respond immediately, light-headed as he felt. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss during supper.

Seemingly unfazed, Evan picked up his hot sandwich and leaned over his plate to bite into it.

At last, Lyle said, “We’ll be lookin’ to hear from ya as soon as you can get word home to us, son.”

“At least you have another whole month here with us,” Elisabeth added.

Ellie was staring at Evan now. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

Elisabeth looked like she might cry.

In a short while, Evan slid off the bench and headed upstairs.

Lyle couldn’t help seeing Ellie’s lower lip quiver.

Elisabeth slipped her arm around her. “May the dear Lord help our family,” his wife whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Upstairs, a door closed, and Lyle reached for Elisabeth’s free hand, shut his eyes, and breathed a prayer very different from the table blessing.

Later, after supper, Lyle picked up the letter with the ominous and official-looking letterhead. Correspondence from the world, he thought as his eyes fell on the date for Evan’s military physical and induction in Harrisburg. Then, leaving the letter where he’d found it, he exited the stifling kitchen, needing some fresh air. Much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t go upstairs to talk to Evan, secluded in his room and likely as resistant to conversation as he’d been since the night of the lottery drawing.

No point in it, Lyle thought.

He plodded outdoors and headed toward the orchard, gazing at the sky, still bright. How did we get here, Lord?

After a time, he returned to the side yard and wondered if Daed might be back from his brother’s place. Going to the Dawdi Haus, Lyle opened the screen door and called to him, but there was no answer. Then walking over to the carriage shed, Lyle saw that the spot for the spring wagon was still vacant.

Looking up the hill toward the Bontrager farm, Lyle was drawn to it. He wanted to talk to another man—a father who’d successfully reared his sons in the faith. Sighing several times, he meandered through his own meadow as if in a stupor. He tried to keep his wits enough to pray a significant prayer, but when that became a struggle, he realized he was already tramping through the next neighbor’s cornfield. At all costs, he wanted to avoid walking along the road, weary of church members averting their gaze as they passed by, even a few of his and Elisabeth’s kinfolk here lately.

The breeze at that moment was a welcome respite from the heat, and Lyle pushed his straw hat forward to shield his face from the sun’s rays as the clouds moved in.

———

Ellie had seen her Dat wandering through the pasture, his shoulders slumped and his gait heavy and slow. She’d asked her mother if he was all right, and Mamm had shaken her head. “I daresay we’re all in pieces” came her reply.

Ellie recalled what Dawdi had said about Evan while they drank root beer at his house. “He might need to know that your love for him is constant in spite of his poor behavior.” She mentioned this to Mamm.

“He’s quite right, I daresay. And I believe your Dat is torn between that and wanting to make Evan see the folly of his ways.”

“Seems to be takin’ its toll on poor Dat. I wish there was somethin’ I could do to make all of this better.”

Mamm opened her arms to hug her. “We’ll stick together and cast this burden on the Lord.”

Later, after Dat had returned and led family Bible reading and prayer—without Evan, who’d once again left the house—Ellie slipped off to her room and opened her heart to Leah, ever so far away.

Dear Leah,

How are you doing?

I know it’s been a short while since my last letter, but I need to tell you some troubling things. Honestly, I wish I could talk to you face-to-face. While I was thinking about everything that’s happened today, I knew I should write to you right away. If I wait too long, the gloom of it all might make me feel like burrowing into a hole somewhere. I really don’t know how else to describe what I’m feeling.

You see, Evan received his draft notice from the army today. I’ve said all I can think of to him, so I’m plain numb now.

I hope that for your sake and mine, you have happier news when you write, Leah. For one thing, you must be relieved that your brother Sol is a devout young man and already baptized, following God and the Old Ways of our forefathers. If only Evan was that earnest.

Ellie set down her pen and rose from the desk, then meandered down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. From the open window, she could hear Dat talking on the back porch as she poured cold water from the faucet into a tumbler and then drank nearly half of it.

She recognized Evan’s voice now, and it sounded like they were discussing orchard-related things. She wondered at their apparent calmness.

Who will take Evan’s place while he’s gone? she thought as she headed back to her room. She picked up the pen and letter she’d written to Leah and sat on the bed to read through it. Without enough pleasant news to share this time, she decided to simply sign off.

After closing her door, she removed the bobby pins from her hair bun and let it down. She shook out her lengthy tresses and brushed them with long strokes, watching the reddish half moon rise on the horizon line.