Growing Up in Lancaster County (44 page)

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

Rachel put her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She was trying to be nice to Jacob, but he was sure making it hard.

“Daydreamer, daydreamer,” Jacob taunted as he continued to tickle her with the feather.

Rachel jumped up and shook her finger in his face. “Absatz, right now!”

“What’s all the ruckus about in here?” Pap asked, stepping out of one of the horse’s stalls.

Rachel pointed to Jacob. “Ask him; he started it.”

Pap turned to face Jacob. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, Pap.” Jacob gave Rachel an innocent-looking grin. “I was just tickling her with a goose feather, and she got upset.”

“He was doing more than that,” Rachel said. “He was picking on me because I like to daydream.”

Pap shook Jacob’s shoulder. “Stop picking on your sister and find something else to do with your time.”

Jacob scuffed the toe of his boot against the concrete floor. “Guess I’ll go to the house and see if Mom made me a snack.”

Just then Rachel remembered the reason Mom had sent her to the barn. “I almost forgot,” she said to Pap. “Mom wanted me to ask if you and Henry would like some hot apple cider.”

Pap nodded. “That sounds good. Run back to the house and tell her we’ll be in as soon as we finish grooming the horses.” He squeezed Rachel’s arm. “And no daydreaming along the way.”

As Rachel left the barn, she said to herself, “What’s wrong with a little daydreaming now and then? I’m just doing a bit of wishful thinking.”

F
or the next several days, Rachel tried not to daydream so much. She wanted people to think she was growing up. So instead of daydreaming, she kept busy doing her homework and chores and helping Grandpa in the greenhouse.

On Saturday morning, Rachel headed for the greenhouse, hoping she could spend most of the day there.

“Where are you, Grandpa?” she called when she stepped inside and didn’t see him working with any of the flowers.

“I’m back here in my office.” Grandpa’s voice sounded muffled, like he was talking underwater.

I’ll bet Grandpa’s standing on his head again
, Rachel thought.

She hurried to his office, and sure enough, Grandpa was in one corner of the room with his feet in the air and his hands resting on the floor.

“Are you trying to clear your head?” Rachel asked, bending down so she could see Grandpa’s face.

He gave her an upside-down smile. “Jah, that’s what I’m doing all right.”

“Should I wait until you’re done, or is there something I could be doing in the greenhouse right now?” Rachel asked.

“Once my head’s clear enough, we’ll prune some of the plants,” Grandpa said. “In the meantime, why don’t you check the Christmas cacti I recently got in and see if they need any water?”

“Sure, I can do that.” Rachel skipped out of the room and over to the shelf where Grandpa had put the plants. She was about to put her finger in the dirt to see if the first one was dry when she remembered that Grandpa had recently bought a little gauge that showed whether or not the plant needed water.

She found the gauge in the drawer under one of the workbenches and stuck it in the dirt of the first cactus. When she saw the moisture reading, she smiled. The plant still had plenty of water. Down the row she went, testing each cactus with the gauge. Only one plant needed water, and she took care of that right away.

When Rachel put the gauge away, she spotted a book about wildflowers on the shelf. It looked interesting, so she picked it up, took a seat on a wooden stool, and opened the book to the table of contents. The first section included a description of several kinds of wildflowers. The next section told some places where wildflowers might grow. There was even a section about pressing wildflowers and putting them in an album, or using them to make bookmarks, postcards, and stationery.

Rachel hummed as she studied a page showing hooded cluster plants, such as jack-in-the-pulpit, sweet flag, and yellow skunk cabbage.

“What are you reading?” Grandpa asked when he entered the room.

Rachel held up the book. “It’s called
Wildflowers
, and it looks like an interesting book. I’ve never seen it here before. Is it new, Grandpa?”

He nodded. “I thought it might be fun to grow some wildflowers in the garden next spring. What do you think of that idea?”

“I think it’s a very good idea.” Rachel smiled and pointed to the page she had opened. “I’d like to study this book some more and learn about pressing flowers so I can make some pretty cards and things. Can I borrow the book for a few days?”

Grandpa tugged his beard and frowned in thought as his bushy gray eyebrows pulled together so they almost met above the bridge of his nose. “Well, let’s see now.” He gave his beard one more quick pull. “I guess it would be all right, but I want you to remember one thing.”

“What’s that, Grandpa?” Rachel sat up straighter and listened with both ears. She remembered the things that were really important to her—at least most of the time.

“I’d be happy to loan you the book, but I need to know that you’ll take good care of it, and I’d like to have it back by the end of next week.”

“I promise I’ll take care of the book, and I’ll be sure to return it to you next week,” Rachel said with a nod.

After lunch that afternoon, Grandpa said he wouldn’t need Rachel’s help in the greenhouse for the rest of the day. Rachel decided it would be a good time to read some more from the wildflower book.

She carried the book outside to the porch, sat on the porch swing, and opened the book to the section that told about pressing flowers. She’d only read a few pages when Mom stepped outside and said, “Jacob’s having an ice cream cone. Would you like one, Rachel?”

Rachel nodded eagerly. She loved ice cream, especially strawberry-flavored ice cream, which Pap had made last night after supper.

“Would you like to come into the kitchen, or would you rather eat your cone out here?” Mom asked.

“I’d rather eat it out here.”

“Okay, I’ll bring the cone right out.” Mom went into the house and returned to the porch a few minutes later with a sugar cone heaped high with strawberry ice cream.

“You’d better set that book aside while you’re eating this,” Mom said, handing Rachel the cone. “Grandpa wouldn’t like it if you got ice cream on any of the pages.”

“Okay, Mom.” Rachel set the book on the small table nearby. “Oh, by the way, I was wondering what time Esther and Rudy will be coming over for the bonfire tonight.”

Mom shook her head. “When I checked the answering machine in the phone shed earlier, there was a message from Rudy. He said they wouldn’t be coming because Esther isn’t feeling up to it.”

“That’s too bad. Will Pap build a bonfire anyway?”

“I don’t think so, Rachel. I believe we’ll have to do it some other time.”

Rachel was disappointed, but before she could say so, Mom went back in the house.

Rachel sighed and stared at her ice cream cone, wondering which side to lick first. She was glad it was a warm, sunny day. Before long it would be too cold to eat ice cream outside. She was also glad that Jacob had chosen to stay inside. She didn’t need him out here pestering her. Knowing Jacob, he’d probably eat his cone really fast, and then he’d expect her to give him a couple of licks from hers.

She crinkled her nose. No way would she let Jacob get any of his germs on her ice cream cone!

Slurp! Slurp!
Rachel licked one side and then the other. “Yum! This is appenditlich,” she said, smacking her lips. When she’d eaten half the cone, she reached for the wildflower book.

She placed the book in her lap and opened it to the page that showed how to make a bookmark using dried flowers and leaves. It would be fun to create a pretty bookmark and send it to Mary in her next letter. Maybe Rachel would even make some stationery using dried flowers.

Rachel lifted her ice cream cone to take another bite, when—
floop!
—Snowball leaped from the porch railing and bumped Rachel’s arm, knocking the cone out of her hand.

Rachel gasped when a blob of ice cream landed on the book, right in the middle of a picture of a hollyhock plant!

“Ach, Snowball, look what you’ve done to Grandpa’s
buch
[book]!” Rachel pushed the kitten away and jumped up. She had to do something quickly or the book might be ruined.

She raced into the house, grabbed a sponge from the kitchen sink, turned on the water, and soaked the sponge. Then she squeezed the excess water from the sponge and raced back outside.

“No, no, no!” she hollered when she spotted Snowball sitting on the swing, licking the ice cream that had fallen onto the book. “Get away from there, you silly
bussli
[kitten]!” She pushed Snowball aside and picked up the book. There wasn’t much ice cream left on the page, but now there was a big ugly-looking pink stain where the ice cream had been.

Rachel’s heart pounded, and her head began to throb. “I can’t give the book back to Grandpa like this,” she whimpered. “If I do, he’ll say I didn’t take good care of it.”

She sat on the edge of the swing feeling sorry for herself. Why did she always have so much trouble? She hated feeling helpless like this.

After several minutes, an idea popped into Rachel’s head.
I’ll hide the book. Maybe Grandpa will forget he loaned it to me and I won’t have to tell him what happened
.

Rachel jumped off the swing and raced for the barn. She would hide the book in the hayloft where no one would see.

The next several days went by, but Grandpa didn’t mention the book. With each day, Rachel felt guiltier and guiltier for not telling Grandpa what she’d done with his book. Finally, when she could stand it no more, she decided to go to the hayloft and get the book.

Rachel entered the barn and looked around to be sure no one was watching. Then she climbed the ladder to the hayloft and hurried to the mound of hay where she’d hidden the book. She reached inside and felt all around. The book was gone!

“No! No! No!” Rachel hollered. “This can’t be happening!”

Rachel remembered the time she’d put her glasses inside a box and hidden it in the hayloft. Jacob had found them and hidden them in his room to teach Rachel a lesson. He’d obviously done it to her again.

Rachel sprinted down the ladder and ran all the way to the house. She found Jacob in his room, sprawled on his bed, reading a book.

“Give it to me!” she demanded.

“Give what to you?” Jacob mumbled without looking at her.

“The wildflower book.”

Jacob set his book aside and sat up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This book is about a dog.”

Rachel gritted her teeth. “Don’t act so innocent. You went into the hayloft and took the book I hid there.”

Jacob’s raised his eyebrows. “You hid a book there?”

She nodded slowly. “Please give it back.”

Jacob lifted the book he held. “This is the only book I know anything about, and it has nothing to do with wildflowers.”

“I know you took that book!” Rachel shouted. “
Ferwas bischt allfat so schtarkeppich
[Why are you always so stubborn]
?
”

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m telling you the truth.”

Rachel moved closer to his bed and peered at the book. It was about a dog. “So you never saw the book about wildflowers?”

“Nope.”

She scratched her head. “Then what could have happened to it?”

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me.” He motioned to the door. “Now go away and leave me in peace to read my book.”

Rachel shuffled out the door, feeling hopeless and sad. What if she never found Grandpa’s book? How could she explain that to him?

Rachel could hardly eat supper that night, and when she went to bed, she couldn’t sleep. She could only think about the missing book and how she wished she’d never borrowed it in the first place.

When she got up the next morning, she knew she needed to tell Grandpa the truth.

Rachel waited until after breakfast. Since it was Saturday and there was no school, she knew Grandpa would expect her to help him in the greenhouse.

She’d just started for the greenhouse when she spotted Grandma Yoder’s horse and buggy coming up their driveway.

“
Guder mariye
[Good morning], Rachel,” Grandma said after she’d stopped the buggy. “I’ve come to do some baking with your mamm. Are you going to join us?”

Rachel shook her head. “I’m going to the greenhouse to help Grandpa.” She kicked at a pebble with the toe of her sneaker and stared at the ground.

“You seem to be
umgerennt
[upset]. Is something wrong?” Grandma asked.

Rachel nodded and lifted her gaze to meet Grandma’s. “I–I’ve lost something important and can’t find it.” She sniffed a couple of times. “I think my name should be Trouble, because trouble seems to find me wherever I go.”
Borrowing brings sorrowing
, she thought.
At least it has for me
.

Grandma smiled at Rachel. “Remember now, no matter how much trouble you have, it too will pass.”