Heritage of Lancaster County 03 The Reckoning (24 page)

Lydia stopped rocking and placed her hand on Ella Mae's. "The light of Jesus has been shining out of your eyes for a good many years now. I knew you loved the Lord. Everyone who ever confided in you or sipped your tea knew it, too."

Ella Mae closed her eyes. "I shoulda told them about the

234

Lord outright," she whispered. "Shoulda passed it on." "It's never too late for that."

"I'm a-countin' on it, Lyddie. Before I die, that's what I'm gonna do. Starting with Mattie..."

They were quiet then, both women rocking in the matching hickory chairs, while Mattie rattled some pots and pans across the house in her big kitchen.

Outside, a dog barked at the buggies making the turn onto Hickory Lane, and the late afternoon sun cast a fragile glow on Ella Mae's head.

Thinking that she'd gone and spilled the beans in front of all the womenfolk out of turn, without ever thinking things through, Mary gently slapped the reins against John's best Belgian horse.

She examined the sky as the light began to fade ever so slightly, though there were several more summery hours till dusk. Crickets were just waiting their turn to chirp, owls eager for nightfall. She sensed the silent expectancy in the woods as the horse trotted along leisurely. Mary was in no hurry to return home. Not just yet. The children would be clamoring for attention, though she would give it graciously . . jah, happily. But these moments--with just herself sitting in the buggy and the steady clip-clopping of the horse's hooves--provided time for some peaceful reflection after a long day of work and chatter.

She hoped the news about Katie's pending marriage to the Englischer up north wouldn't set Rebecca back to where she couldn't enjoy the summer. Poor dear. The last thing in the world she wanted was to upset Katie's mamma. Only the Good Lord himself had any idea of the depths of sorrow the woman had endured for having kept the adoption secret all these years--not to mention the reality of the Meinding.

235

Ach, she could kick herself for blurting the wedding news out like that. What was she thinking?

Rebecca's brain felt divided in half as she drove her buggy toward the red sandstone house. The part of her that wanted to head on up to New York and talk Katie out of marrying into the fancy world kept tormenting her. The other part wanted to honor the Ordnung, wanted to heed it without question, wanted to be prayerful for Katie, hoping the Good Lord would answer her prayers and bring her daughter back home without a battle.

And how odd. She'd come that close to volunteering to tell one of her favorite stories, yet when all the dismal talk started up about Katie in love with some artist fella--En- glish and all--she'd clammed right up again. It was ever so strange the way she wanted to be the storyteller, honest she did, yet something kept her from it. Something mighty painful.

And, too, she wondered about the haunting look in Ella Mae's eyes there toward the last of the lima shelling. Him- mel, she worried herself almost sick over the disturbing gaze. Something was up. As sure as she knew her aunt, something was brewing.

236

237

The minute Katherine read the letter from Hickory Hollow, she rang for Theodore, who drove her downtown to make arrangements with the hospice. "I really hesitate to ask you this, but may I change my schedule for this week?" she asked the charge nurse.

Natalie came in the office, looking glum at first, then brightening when she spotted Katherine. "You're just the

person I need to talk to."

"Oh?"

"I was wondering if you could entertain the patients with your guitar tomorrow, on your regularly scheduled day."

She noticed the dark circles under Natalie's eyes. "Is everything all right? You look exhausted."

The nurse shook her head sadly. "I've had to turn three more patients away--just this week. There's simply not enough bed space."

"Where will they go?"

"That's just it. There's no other option. Many families don't want their loved ones to die in a hospital.., or even at home, where the cares of life can weigh in so heavily. They desire the tranquil setting that we offer." She sighed.

238

"If we just had a larger facility."

"Maybe something will open up," Katherine said, offering encouragement, though she had no idea where such a place might be. Not in Canandaigua. Perhaps in Rochester. But that city was inconvenient for families and loved ones who lived here. She understood perfectly why Natalie's eyes were sorrowful.

"I wish I could help you tomorrow with the music, but I really must beg off. I've been called home," she explained. "An old friend has suffered a stroke and wants to see me again before she dies."

"Of course, I understand. Take as much time away as you need."

"I'll be glad to make up more than my share of hours when I return."

"That's kind of you," Natalie said, wishing her well. Katherine left the hospice to purchase her bus ticket, though she wished she had the nerve to travel by plane to Pennsylvania. Something about flying brought back the Ordnung and its expectation, and for the life of her, she couldn't break the rules just now, not with her great-aunt possibly wasting away on her deathbed.

'I'll be traveling to Pennsylvania tomorrow," she told Rosie upon returning to the estate.

Rosie stopped what she was doing, holding a handful of unpolished silver in midair. Fulton, who sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee with Theodore, turned and gawked as well.

"My great-aunt may not have long to live. It may be days or weeks.., hard to say," she explained. "But I don't want to risk not seeing her ever again."

"I'm terribly sorry about your aunt," said Rosie, coming

239

over, the silverware still poised in her fist.

"Ella Mae's lived a full life, so there's no need to feel too bad."

"Well, is there something we can do?" asked Rosie, her eyes bright with concern.

Katherine couldn't think of anything, except that she would need a ride down to the bus station first thing in the morning, a matter she mentioned to Theodore.

"My pleasure." He got up and went to the bulletin board where the week's schedule was posted.

"Thank you so much," she said, including both Rosie and Fulton in her expression, and left to start packing.

At the first glimpse of Lancaster County, Katherine experienced a surprising lump in her throat. Yet she couldn't help peering out the bus window, wishing the driver would speed up and deposit her on the familiar street so she could hail a taxi and be on her way to Ella Mae. And Hickory Hollow.

The bus approached the station, and she noticed the narrow streets of downtown Lancaster, the brick row houses with their tiny stoops and cobblestone sidewalks. There was something painfully pretty about the area, the familiarity of it. A rush of memories came back. Buzzing, hot summertime: the swish of skirt against bare ankles, the feel of scorching soil between her toes, the long, fun-filled days of raspberry picking with twenty or more cousins.., the sweet aroma of new-mown hay.

She pressed her face closer to the window, longing to see Hickory Lane again, scarcely able to wait to get there.

Once she was on her way via taxi, out of the downtown area toward Route 340, she began to relax. Past Smoketown and Bird-in-Hand, past the pretzel factory smack-dab in the

240

middle of a tourist center at Intercourse, and on to Cattail Road and the turnoff to Hickory Hollow.

"Know anybody out here in Amish country?" asked the cab driver.

She smiled at his inquiry. "Oh, a good many."

He glanced at her in his rearview mirror. "From everything I hear about Plain folk, they like to keep to them- selves--don't take too well to 'Englischers.' "

"Most of the time, that's true." She didn't especially want to reveal her circumstances. Mentioning that she had been raised Amish and then shunned would open up a whole can of worms. She wasn't in the mood.

Another couple of miles--more familiar landmarks-- and she was leaning forward, fidgeting in the backseat. "Would you mind slowing down a bit?" she said, as they came within a quarter mile of David and Mattie Beiler's place.

"Want me to turn in there?"

"Stop at the next lane, please. I'll walk the rest of the way." When the taxi stopped, she paid him and stepped out.

Looking around, she took in the perky pink and white petunias lined up in meticulous rows, the red roses climBing up the lattice, the newly painted white front porch, and the rustic yard bench under the age-old elm on the east side of the Dawdi Haus. Even the air smelled remarkably resh and homey, though she wouldn't tarry on such thoughts.

"Hullo!" Someone was calling to her. "Is that yo, Katie?"

She recognized the voice and turned to see Lydia Miller. Her mother's cousin came running across the lawn, arms outstretched. "I didn't expect to see yo today. How in the world are you?"

241

"I'm fine, thanks," Katie replied, hugging her. "How's

Ella'" 7,,

Nlae.

Arm in arm, they headed up to the house. "Oh, she has

good and bad days, though I think she'll perk up a bit when she sees the likes of you." Lydia stopped in her tracks. "How did you hear?"

"Ella Mae wrote.., asked me to come."

"Ah yes, I suppose she did," Lydia said with a knowing

look.

A swarm of bees flew over their heads, and Katherine

held her breath and stood still automatically, the way Rebecca had taught her to do as a child. The sound of laugh- ter-little ones at play somewhere out in the barn, most likely--caught her interest, and she wondered which of Ella Mae's great-grandchildren might be here.

At the door, Mattie's eyes popped wide when she spotted

Katherine. "My goodness gracious, where'd you come

from?"

"Ella Mae invited me for a visit."

"Ah, sounds like Mamma," Mattie said, shaking her

head.

Katherine wondered about that. "Is it all right if I come

in . . . just for a short while?"

Glancing over her shoulder and looking a bit sheepish,

Mattie actually dawdled about whether or not to allow her

entry.

Lydia was breathing hard, as though she was terribly embarrassed

over it. "Aw, Mattie, it can't hurt none for Katie to visit," she said softly. "Last I heard, the shunning was lifted a bit."

Mattie waved her hand as if shooing a fly, her face languid.

"What if Bishop John gets wordT"

"Ella Mae will be expecting me," Katherine insisted.

won't stay long. I promise."

Reluctantly, Mattie opened the front screen door. "I

242

don't want this gettin' out--don't need any trouble just now."

"I understand," she said.

Lydia stayed in the kitchen with two other Plain women, and Mattie offered to take Katherine through the front room to the Dawdi Haus.

Ella Mae was sitting in her rocking chair next to the front room window when Katherine entered. Looking up, the woman's face broke into a crooked smile. "Oh, Katie ... Katie," she said, holding out her shriveled hand, her voice huskier than ever.

Katherine didn't bother to correct Ella Mae. Even though she very much wanted to be called Katherine, things were different here. "Glad to see you up and dressed," she said. "I came as soon as I received your letter."

Ella Mae nodded, offering a weak smile. "I hoped you'd come. Denki, I appreciate it ... more than I can say."

Pulling up one of the cane chairs in the room, Katherine sat beside her aunt. "It's been the longest time since we've had a chat. When was your stroke?"

Ella Mae began to count on her deformed fingers, then gave up as if she couldn't recall. "Not too long ago. Couldn't talk or move my hands . . . hardly anything worked on me there for a gut while."

"Did you see a doctor?"

"No, no. Don't need no doctors when I've got friends."

She expected that. "You haven't changed a bit. Still have your spunk, that good sense of humor."

Ella Mae worked her head up and down. "You haven't changed neither.., not really. Under all them fancy clothes, I think we've still got our Katie girl."

"Well, I don't know. I suppose there's a good part of me that's similar." She went on to say how nice it was to be back

243

in Hickory Hollow. "Especially now. I felt like taking my

shoes off as soon as I got out of the taxi."

"You came thataway? By taxi?"

"Did you expect me to ride up in a golden carriage?" She chuckled, feeling free and easy. "I left my fancy limousine back in New York. Best not to stir up the bishop, right?"

They had a good laugh over that. Then Ella Mae's voice softened, her eyes filling with tears. "There's something I wanna tell ya, Katie. I shoulda come out with it long before now." Her face was flushed.

Katherine reached for her hand. "Are you all right?" The Wise Woman nodded but remained silent. Tears began to flow down her wrinkled face. "I never told you about Jesus," she whispered. "All these years I kept it to myself. Oh, I showed God's love to folk, sure, but I didn't say nothin' about the way He changed my life, forgave my sins . . gave me joy." She paused, her eyes on Katherine. "Now I'm tellin' everybody I know. 'Course, the People think I'm Dummkopp--clear off my rocker."

"I never knew this about you," Katherine managed. "But I'm not surprised. There was always something special about you."

"Will ya forgive me for waitin' so long, Katie?"

An unsettled, prickly feeling came over her, something akin to the way she'd felt on that first visit to Laura's church. She felt her throat constrict, making her unable to speak. So she nodded, tears clouding her sight.

Ella Mae continued. "I just couldn't let myself die before tellin' you what I know in my heart, that I'm goin' to heaven someday. And it has nothin' whatever to do with pride or any such thing. I'm saved, Katie . . . I belong to Jesus."

The salvation of the righteous is of the Lord ....

The words on Laura's headstone echoed in her memory.

244

"It seems here lately," Katherine confessed, "everywhere I turn, I keep hearing the same thing--that the Lord Jesus loves me, that He died for me .... "