Allison's Journey (31 page)

“That’s good to hear.”

“Have you ever confessed your sins and asked Jesus to come into your heart, Peter?” Allison asked pointedly.

He nodded. “I made that confession before the People when I was baptized and joined the church.”

“I guess the truth of God’s plan of salvation never hit home with me until Aunt Mary explained things,” Allison said.

Peter reached across the bed and touched Allison’s arm. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“What do you want to know?”

“I was wondering why you wrote and asked Papa if you could stay in Missouri longer.”

Allison’s face heated up, and she blinked a couple of times to keep her tears from spilling over. “I liked it there. I—”

“Did you fall in love with someone? Is that why you wanted to stay?”

She nodded slowly. If she spoke the words, she knew she would dissolve into a puddle of tears.

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me who you’re in love with?”

She shook her head. “It’s over between us, so there’s no point in even talking about it.”

“That’s okay; you don’t have to.” Peter stood. “Maybe things will work out so you can go back to Missouri after Aunt Catherine—”

Allison held up her hand. “Don’t even say it, Peter. My place is here now, and it will always be so for as long as Papa needs me.”

Peter opened his mouth as if to say something more, but he closed it again and hurried out of the room.

Allison reached for her Bible, feeling a strong need to read a passage or two before she fell asleep.
I don’t want Aaron to get his hopes up about me going back there, because unless God provides a miracle, it doesn’t look like Aunt Catherine will make it. If she dies, Papa will need me here more than ever
.

As Allison read John 3:16 and reflected on how God had sent His only Son to die for the sins of the world, she felt a sense of urgency. She had tried on several occasions to witness to Aunt Catherine, but every time she brought up the subject of heaven, Aunt Catherine either said she was tired and wanted to sleep, or became irritable and shouted at Allison to leave the room.

“Dear Lord,” Allison prayed, “please give me the opportunity to speak with Aunt Catherine about You soon.”

B
y the first of November, Aunt Catherine had become so weak she spent most of her time in bed. The pain in her body had intensified, and the medication brought little relief. Allison knew if she was going to get through to Aunt Catherine with the message of forgiveness, it would have to be soon. In desperation, Allison formulated a plan. She would make Aunt Catherine a faceless doll and attach a verse of scripture to it, the way Melinda’s stepfather did with the desserts he baked to give to folks he felt had a need. Maybe the verse would touch Aunt Catherine’s heart in a way Allison couldn’t do with words.

Allison headed for the treadle sewing machine, which she discovered was covered with dust. It had obviously been some time since it had been put to use. Carefully, she cut out a girl doll, using the pattern Aunt Mary had given her. She also cut enough material to make a dark blue dress with a black cape
and apron, a pair of black stockings, and a small white kapp. It made her think of the doll Mama had made—the one that went missing while she was in Missouri. She’d clung to the doll during her growing-up years, and even though she missed it, she realized what she missed most was not an inanimate object, but people—her aunt, uncle, cousins. . .and especially Aaron.

Allison closed her eyes and drew in a weary breath. She felt so tired and discouraged. Nothing she’d said or done had seemed to please Aunt Catherine. To make things worse, she missed Aaron so much she felt as if her heart could break in two. The only good thing that had happened in her life lately was that she’d been baptized and joined the church a few weeks ago. But even that positive happening hadn’t filled the void Allison had felt since she’d left her family and friends in Missouri.

Should I continue to write Aaron letters?
she wondered.
Or would it be better if I made a clean break?
Allison continued to ponder the situation as she sewed the doll. Maybe she should wait until after Christmas to make a decision. Or would it be better to do it now, while it was fresh on her mind?

“The letter can wait,” she murmured as she slipped a piece of muslin under the pressure foot of the treadle machine. “Right now I need to concentrate on making this doll and deciding which verse of scripture to attach to it.”

“Let’s get these stalls mucked out now, and then we’ll go outside and get that hay unloaded that we’ve got on the wagon,” Herman said to Peter as they entered the barn.

“Good idea,” Peter agreed. “The cows aren’t as agreeable when
they come in for the night and find dirty stalls.”

Herman chuckled. “I think it would take more than a clean stall to put some of our cows in an agreeable mood.”

“Jah—like Aunt Catherine. She’s rarely in a good mood.”

“She’s got a good excuse for being grumpy these days,” Herman said as he handed Peter a shovel.

Peter nodded as he began to muck out the first stall. “Remember when you and I talked about whether Allison has a boyfriend back in Missouri?”

“Jah.” Herman lifted a clean bale of straw onto his shoulders and carried it to the stall.

“Well, I had a talk with her about that a few days ago, and I keep forgetting to tell you what she said.”

“What did she say?”

“She admitted that she’s in love with someone, but she wouldn’t say who, and she said it was over between them.” Peter grunted as he scooped a shovelful of cow manure into the wheelbarrow. “I think Allison believes her place is here now, caring for us. She’s certainly doing a good job, too,” he added.

“You’re right about that. She may have left Lancaster County a tomboy, but she came home a woman, capable of running a household by herself.” Herman set the bale of straw on the floor and grabbed a pitchfork. “I’m just sorry to hear she began a relationship that was over before it really had a chance to begin.”

“When I mentioned her returning to Missouri, she said she felt obligated to us. She thinks once Aunt Catherine is gone, she’ll be needed here even more.”

Herman nodded. “We’ll have to see about that when the time comes.”

“What are you doing over there?” Aaron asked his youngest sister, Emma, as he stepped into the barn and discovered her huddled in one corner near some bales of straw. Since he’d heard their mother call Emma a few minutes ago, he figured the child must have sneaked off to the barn to play with the kittens when she should have been inside helping set the table for supper.

Emma jumped, like she’d been caught doing something bad, and she looked up at Aaron with both hands behind her back.

“What have you got that you don’t want me to see?” he asked, taking a step closer.

She backed away, until her legs bumped the bale of straw. “Nothin’. Just girl stuff.”

“What kind of girl stuff would you need to hide?”

She hung her head but gave no reply.

“Emma, hold out your hands so I can see.”

Her shoulders trembled, and Aaron guessed she was close to tears.

“If you’ve got something you’re not supposed to have, you’d better give it to me.”

“I. . .I didn’t mean to keep it. I was only gonna borrow it, but then—”

“Borrow what, Emma?”

The child sniffed, and when she looked up at Aaron, he saw tears in her eyes. “I borrowed this—from Allison Troyer.”

Aaron’s mouth dropped open as Emma extended her hands, revealing a faceless doll with no kapp on its head. He knew immediately it was the one Allison’s mother had given her when
she was a young girl. The one Allison’s aunt had told him was missing.

“Why, Emma? Why would you take something that wasn’t yours?”

Her voice quavered when she spoke. “I–I’ve asked Mama to make me a doll, but she always says she’s too busy takin’ care of Grandma and Grandpa Raber. I think she loves them more’n she does me.”

Aaron’s heart went out to Emma, even though he knew what she had done was wrong. He knelt in front of the little girl and gathered her into his arms. “If I had known you wanted a doll so badly, I would have asked Allison to make you one. She sews faceless dolls and sells them.”

Emma opened her mouth as if to say something, but he cut her off. “As far as our mamm loving her folks more than she does you, that’s just plain silly. Grandpa and Grandma have some health problems, and she wants to care for them during their old age. But you’re her little girl, and she loves you very much.” He patted her gently on the back. “Remember when you were in the hospital because of your appendix?”

“Jah.”

“Mom and Paul. . .uh. . .your daed, came to see you every day. Fact is, during the first twenty-four hours after your surgery they never left the hospital. Did you know that?”

She hiccupped on a sob. “Huh-uh.”

“Do you think they would have done that if they didn’t love you?”

“I guess not.”

Aaron took the doll from his sister. “This isn’t yours, and taking it was wrong. You’ll need to tell Mom what you’ve done.”

Tears streamed down Emma’s cheeks. “Do I have to, Aaron? What if she gives me a bletsching?”

Aaron gently squeezed her shoulders. “I haven’t known our mamm to give out too many spankings over the years, but I’m sure you’ll receive whatever punishment she feels you deserve. And if Mom knows how important having a faceless doll is to you, she’ll either find the time to sew a doll or she’ll buy one for you. Why don’t you ask after you’ve told her what you’ve done?”

“I. . .I will.”

Aaron stood. “I’ll see that this doll is sent to Allison, and I’ll be sure and tell her how sorry you are for taking it.”

She nodded. “Jah, please tell her that, for I surely wish I hadn’t done it.”

He pointed to the barn door. “Run into the house now and set things straight with Mom. I’ll be in shortly.”

Emma hesitated, gave Aaron a quick hug around his legs, and darted out the door.

Aaron stared at the bedraggled-looking doll. “Allison will sure be surprised when I mail her this.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll wait and send it to her for Christmas.”

Allison crept quietly into her aunt’s room, unsure if she would find her asleep or not.

The floor squeaked, and Aunt Catherine’s eyes fluttered open. Allison smiled, but Aunt Catherine only stared at her with a vacant look.
Doesn’t she know who I am? How close might she be to dying?

“Aunt Catherine, I brought you something,” Allison said as she approached the bed.

No response.

“It’s a faceless doll, and I made it myself.” She held the doll in front of her aunt’s face.

Aunt Catherine moaned, as though she were in terrible pain.

“Are you hurting real bad? Is there something I can get for you?”

“I–I’ve always wanted one.”

“What do you want?”

“A faceless doll.” Aunt Catherine lifted a shaky hand as tears gathered in the corner of her eyes.

Allison handed the doll to her aunt, and the woman clutched it to her chest with a trembling sob. “My mamm wouldn’t allow dolls in the house when I was a girl—not even the faceless kind.”