Amish Circle Letters (6 page)

“Has anyone talked to the older boy?” she whispered to Rachel when her sister hustled into the kitchen. For a moment, Rachel didn’t seem to understand what Mary Ruth was asking. “Melvin,” Mary Ruth prompted, her eyes flickering to where he sat. “Did anyone talked to him?”

Rachel looked around. “Where is he?” Her eyes fell onto the slumped figure of the ten year old. “Go talk to him, Mary Ruth.”

“Me?” Mary Ruth didn’t know what to say to a grieving ten-year-old. The last time she had tried to comfort him, his daed had cast such a horrible look her way. She could still hear his words booming in her ears. She certainly didn’t want him yelling at her again, not with all of these people around.

“Say anything,” Rachel hissed, nudging her in the boy’s direction. “Unless you want to watch the smaller
kinner
.”

With a sigh, Mary Ruth approached the small boy. He wore his black suit and hat but his head was dipped down so that she had to kneel before him in order to see his face. “Melvin,” she said softly. When he didn’t look at her, she reached out with a finger and touched his chin. Tilting his head back, she smiled gently at him. “Melvin, I’d like to fix you a plate to eat. You need some food.”

He blinked.

He was a beautiful boy with long, dark eyelashes and a thick head of curly brown hair that flopped over his ears. His skin was the color of honey from having worked outside during the spring and summer days. But those eyes…so dark and chocolaty…were vacant. It broke her heart to see the pain on his face.

She glanced over at the room where the men were seated. Menno was surrounded by men in black suits. He, too, had the same vacant look. In fact, she realized as she stared at him, Melvin was a smaller version of Menno only with a much larger problem: A future without a mamm. Clearly, his daed was in no shape to tend to this child. And his mamm was gone.

Mary Ruth took a deep breath and reached down for Melvin’s hand. “Melvin, I want you to come with me now,” she said, trying to sound gentle but firm. To her surprise, his hand tightened around hers and he stood up. “That’s a good boy,” she whispered.

Leading him to the kitchen, she sat him down on a bench and hurried to fill a plate with food. Chicken, corn, potatoes, beans, and fresh bread. She figured that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday and would be hungry. Setting the plate next to him on the bench, Mary Ruth knelt before him. “I don’t know what you like, Melvin, but I put a little bit of everything on your plate. Is that OK?”

No response.

She touched his knee to reassure him then stood up. It was best if she left him alone, she figured. Too much smothering would have the opposite effect. He needed to grieve. After all, his mother had only died a few days ago. While Mary Ruth knew that she had gone home to the Lord, she also knew that it probably didn’t seem like a fair trade to a ten-year-old facing a life without a mamm. But suddenly, she remembered.

He saw it happen!

A shudder went through her entire body as she thought, once again, about Melvin seeing his mamm slip from the baler and getting crushed under the weight of the equipment. She shut her eyes and shook her head, trying to push the vision away. It would take a long time for the family to recover from this loss but even longer for Melvin, she realized.

Steve wasn’t certain why his mamm had insisted that he’d come to the funeral. He barely knew the Yoder family, being that they lived two church districts apart from their own. Menno was about his age, that much was true. But they hadn’t run with the same youth group.

Mamm had argued that it was the right thing to do, especially with Rachel and Leah living next door. So, without arguing further, he had donned his Sunday suit and ridden over with his parents. He hated being crammed in the back of the buggy and, for the briefest of moments, wished he had his own to use. But the thought was fleeting. There was no need to have a buggy, not at this particular stage in his life.

Now, as he stood among the men, he felt the whole weight of the event upon him.
Death
, he thought. A bad thing for a young man with
kinner
. He took a deep breath and glanced around the room. He knew some of the men, especially the younger ones. Jonas Hostetler and Stephen Esh were nearby, standing awkwardly with their hands behind their backs as if they didn’t know what to say or do.

“Sad day, ja?” Steve said as he approached them.

“That it is,” Stephen Esh replied, bowing his head slightly. “But she’s home with our Lord.”

For a moment, Steve stared at Stephen Esh. His friend spoke as if being at home with the Lord was supposed to wash away the pain and grief. He wondered if Menno Yoder felt that way. Glancing over his shoulder, he stared at the man seated in the lone chair in the room. The crowd of men surrounding him appeared just as lost as Menno. No, Steve thought. I don’t think Menno feels the glory of his wife being with the Lord yet.

But, rather than say that, Steve merely took a deep breath and nodded. “Ja, some comfort there, I’m sure,” he said.

Three young women, dressed in black dresses with white aprons, walked by. As they did, Stephen Esh glanced at the taller of the two and gave a soft smile. Steve followed his gaze and, for the briefest of moments, he frowned. He recognized the one woman but couldn’t place from where he knew her. Her eyes flickered toward Steve and he thought she recognized him, too. Yet, the crowd was too large and the situation too uncomfortable for Steve to pursue her and ask for her name.

Instead, he turned to Stephen and, with a nod of his head in the direction of the women, whispered, “Who was that?”

Stephen followed his gaze. When he saw the three women, the younger one looked back and smiled, a soft and appropriate smile, given the situation. “Ach, Priscilla? She’s my girl.” He paused. “Priscilla Smucker.”

Steve shook his head. “
Nee
, the other one.”

“
Vell
, that would be her older sister, Annie, and the other one is Annie’s friend, Mimi Hostetler.” He looked back at Steve and raised an eyebrow. “You know them?”

“
Nee
,” he said. “Not directly. But I reckon I ran into Mimi at the store.” He turned his attention back to his friends. “Had some vandals break a window in my barn. Needed to replace the glass.”

“Ja, that would be her, then,” Jonas said. For a moment, Jonas studied Steve’s face. “She’s my cousin, you know. On my mamm’s side.”

Steve tried to appear nonchalant. “You don’t say, ja?”

“Works for her daed,” he affirmed. Then, a sparkle in his eye, Stephen lowered his voice and whispered. “Nice girl. Ain’t married, you know.”

Steve leaned forward and lowered his own voice. “Ain’t asking, you know.”

The three men stifled a quiet laugh, too aware that this was neither the appropriate time nor place to be joking. After all, they had all come together to support Menno Yoder and his family as they celebrated the fact that, despite being missed after such an unfortunate tragedy, Martha Yoder now resided in the glory of the Lord.

Little Katie stood in the kitchen, her back against the wall. Her mamm was busy helping the other women and her older cousins were watching the younger children, keeping them occupied outside. But Katie didn’t want to go outside. She wanted to be near her mamm. Ever since she had heard about the accident with Martha Yoder, Katie had barely let her mamm out of her sight.

She hadn’t met Martha Yoder but she sure knew Melvin Yoder. A few times, Katie had been over at Leah’s, playing with her cousins outside. Melvin had been there. After all, his daed’s farm was right next door, just a stone’s throw from the swing by the pond.

And that was what Katie thought about…Melvin witnessing his mamm getting killed by the baling machine. They were close in age so Katie found it easy to shut her eyes and imagine how he felt. There was only one word that could sum it up:
lost.

Katie would feel lost without her mamm. Katie would feel lost among these people. Katie would feel lost with having been the last person to see her mamm smile and laugh…and breathe. Tears welled into her eyes and she fought the urge to cry. Turning her face away from the crowd, she leaned her forehead against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut.
I will not cry, I will not cry,
she told herself.

“Are you all right, Katie?”

The voice in her ear sounded so familiar. When she turned around, she was surprised to see her aunt, Mary Ruth. “Ja,” she sniffled. “I’m fine.” She had heard that Mary Ruth was staying with Leah. She had seen Mary Ruth fluttering around the kitchen and helping to wash dishes, clear plates, and tend to the needs of the guests. But she hadn’t thought that Mary Ruth would notice her.

“You want to talk?”

“
Nee,
” Katie said, trying to put on a brave face. “I’m just fine,” she repeated.

“You don’t look fine,” Mary Ruth said softly, leaning down to wipe the remnant of a tear from her face. “Mayhaps you should sit down for a spell, ja?” Without waiting for an answer, Mary Ruth took her arm and led her over to the place where Melvin sat. “Keep each other company in your sorrow,” she whispered.

And then Mary Ruth was gone.

Katie sat next to Melvin, the one person in the room whom she did not wish to sit next to. She worried that she didn’t know what to say to him and her words would get jumbled. She worried that her tears would upset him and that would surely get her in trouble with the adults, but even worse, she worried that death would be contagious and, Lord have mercy, strike her own mamm.

“You OK?” she said softly, surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth.

“
Nee
,” he replied. A short and simple answer that expressed the dearth of despair in his heart.
Nee.

“I’m terribly sorry about your mamm,” she offered, forcing herself to lift her eyes and meet his sad gaze. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to be near him. What if his mamm’s death was contagious? Still, despite her fears, she was drawn to Melvin and wanted to be a friend to him.

Melvin didn’t seem to notice her reluctance. The little boy shrugged. “I’m supposed to be happy that she’s with the Lord.”

It sounded weak, even as he said it. They both knew it was the right thing to say, but neither could believe it.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” he asked.

“Happy that she’s with the Lord?”

He met her gaze. For the longest moment, he couldn’t answer her. It seemed as though he was thinking but was gaining strength from both her question, her presence and her stare. Finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “
Nee
, Katie Fisher ,” he said. “
Nee,
I’m not happy. In fact, I’m angry that the Lord would take my mamm away from me. I don’t understand it and I don’t understand what people are saying to me. I miss her.” He paused and moved his eyes to stare down at his feet. Then, in the softest voice, almost inaudible, he whispered, “I want her back.”

For a moment, she thought she hadn’t heard him. She had to repeat the words to herself.
I want her back.
Katie chewed on her lower lip. Yes, she had heard him say those very words. Four simple words that said so much about how he felt. She didn’t blame him. After all, that’s how she figured she would feel if something horrible happened to her own mamm, even if she hadn’t been there to witness it. Yes, she would certainly feel plenty confused, a lot bitter, and a whole heap of loneliness. She reached her hand out and touched his. To her surprise, he let her hold his soft hand in hers.

“Melvin Yoder,” she said softly. “I do understand.”

Rachel sat for a long time, sitting in her reading chair, an old plush rocking chair that creaked ever so slightly when it rolled backward. The kerosene lantern that hung overhead hissed as it flung its bright light throughout the room. On her lap was her Bible but she simply couldn’t open it tonight. Instead, she just held it, feeling her strength return just from the mere touch of its worn, faded leather cover.

Her heart ached for the Yoder family. It had been a grueling few days. She shut her eyes and silently prayed for Menno and his children. It would be a rough road ahead of Menno, especially with small children that needed tending to. There would be laundry and cooking, gardening and canning. The community would help, as much as they could, that was for sure and certain. But it would still be very stressful for the family.

She was proud of Mary Ruth for having helped with the young boy. As the youngest child in the family, Mary Ruth was used to being taken care of, it seemed to Rachel…much more than caring for others. The compassion that Mary Ruth demonstrated at the Yoders was a small blessing in this sorrowful event.

She shut her eyes. Tomorrow was another day. Lydia would finally help her with the chickens and it was another laundry day. On a farm, there was never a break in the work routine. It continued, whether or not life stopped around it. At least it was something that could be counted on, she thought to herself. The routine of farm life, however demanding.

With a big sigh, she glanced over at her husband. He was seated in the chair next to her, the Budget newspaper in his hands. “Think I’ll be turning in for the night, Elijah,” she whispered. “Need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I’ll be up shortly,” he said. “Need to finish my reading.”

She smiled. “You and your Budget!”

He smiled at her. “You have your circle letters to keep you in touch with everyone and I have my Budget to keep updated on plantings, crops, and other news.”

Walking over to him, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He paused and looked up at her. Then, setting the paper down, he reached for her hand. For a long moment, he held it, staring at her. The only noises were the hiss from the kerosene lantern and the gentle ticking of the old clock on the wall. It had been a gift from Elijah to Rachel when there were married.

Rachel studied Elijah’s face. It was weathered and wrinkled from working in the sun. Over the years, his beard had grown long enough to touch his chest and the brown hairs were now sprinkled with grey. But he was still the handsome man who used to court her with a sparkling new buggy, one that caused the bishop to raise an eyebrow while the community wagged their tongues.