Kate's Song (2 page)

Mamma was bent over the cook stove, tending to a steaming pot. When she saw Kate, she bustled over to her with arms outstretched. “
Cum
, cum. Oh, look at you, you poor thing,” Mamma cooed and held Kate’s chin in her hand. “Such sorrow in your eyes. I cannot bear to think my child has suffered so.” She wrapped Kate in a hug and held on until Kate wondered if they were going to stand like that forever.

“Cum,” Mamma said. “Come and eat some breakfast.” She led Kate to the table and seated her in one of the chairs. “I will cook some eggs, and there’s bacon back yet.”

“No, Mamma. You have just cleaned up. I will have some coffee soup.”

Mamma shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “No daughter of mine is going without a good breakfast, especially my Kate. You are too
din
. A stiff wind could blow you into the next county. Did you eat nothing at that school?” Not waiting for an answer, Mamma went to the icebox and pulled out four thick slabs of bacon and three eggs.

Kate stood up. “I will help, Mamma.”

Holding up her hand, Mamma said, “No, rest.”

“I can help.”

“If you don’t rest, you might as well go lie in the road and let the buggies run over you, for all the good it will do you. Listen to your mamma and stay put.”

Kate sank into her chair. She had to admit, it did feel better to be still.

Mamma clunked the heavy metal skillet onto the cook stove and arranged the bacon like a sculptor. “How far did you walk last night? You were soaked clear through.”

“The bus dropped me off at the new grocery store.”

“At Central and Ivy?”

“
Jah
.”

“Oh,
leibe
, you should have hired a driver. That is a long way.”

“Not too long in nice weather.”

“And you thought you were going to find nice weather in the middle of April? It made down heavy yesterday.”

Kate had fled Milwaukee hastily and barely collected enough money for the bus fare. Paying a driver would have been impossible. But she would not trouble Mamma with the details.

“I hung your
Englisch
clothes in the washroom,” Mamma said.

“
Denki
.”

“Do you always dress like that at school? Like a boy?” Mamma said, with a bit of scold in her tone.

“Mamma,” Kate said, ready to defend herself, “if I dress Plain at school, I attract too much attention. Like a police car with the sirens going. Then the people stare at me or try to shame me. I always dress modest at school, Mamma. Just not Plain.”

This answer seemed to satisfy Mamma, and she changed the subject. “The family will come tonight.”

“Jah, I will be happy to see the new baby.”

“They will want to know about the bruises,” Mamma said quietly.

“Jah, I know that too.”

Mamma studied her daughter’s face. “And what will you tell them?”

“You and Dat will want to know also,” Kate eyed her mother doubtfully.

“Your father will want to know the name of the man who did this, jah. But me? I believe bad tales are better buried with the dead.” She turned and tended the bacon just beginning to sizzle. “All I want to know is if you will be leaving us again.”

Even though Mamma did not look at her, Kate could feel the intensity of the question. Mamma never expressed her true feelings if she thought she was going to upset anyone, and she wouldn’t tell Kate how badly she wanted her home if Kate was determined to go. Mamma was the most unselfish creature Kate had ever known. And in an Amish community, that was saying something.

Kate sighed. She stood, went up behind her mother, and put her arms around her shoulders. “I know what you are thinking—that your
madle
, daughter, went to school in search of God’s will and came back with a black eye.”

Mamma turned and looked at Kate, eyes moist. “Jah, that is what I was thinking.”

Although Kate hated the thought of giving her mother something to cry about, she had to tell her the honest truth. “I am sorry, Mamma,” she said. “I do not know. God has not made Himself clear yet.”

Mamma buried her face in Kate’s neck. “Your dat said it would be so. He said we cannot be impatient farmers with our Katie. You are our walnut tree, and we must not rush your growing season.”

Wiping away a tear before it could escape, Kate held her mamma and savored the sweet reality of a mother’s love.

“I—I will be here at least until the new term starts in September.”

“That is a piece of good news, then.” Sniffing twice, Mamma wiped her eyes then took Kate by the shoulders and steered her in the direction of the chair. “Sit, sit. My bacon is burning.”

Kate shrugged and returned to her perch at the table. If she didn’t have the damage on her face, she could pretend that nothing horrible had happened to her. Her arrival was only a week earlier than expected. She dreaded the probing questions from Mary; the inquisitive looks from the nieces and nephews; the inevitable lecture from her eldest brother, Aaron, who would undoubtedly remind her of her foolishness. Aaron’s favorite pastime was cataloging Kate’s faults, just to make sure she didn’t forget what they were. According to Aaron, Kate was vain, proud, impetuous, and unbelieving. After he saw her face, he could add foolish to the list. That would make him very happy.

“Hullo!” came a shout from outside.

“Cum
reu
,” Mamma called back.

The door flew open as if met by a powerful gust of wind. A tall, beardless young man blew in, smiling widely and carrying a large package under his arm.

Uncommonly handsome, his white teeth contrasted with his dark brown hair and blue eyes. Kate stared in disbelief. Could this broadshouldered visitor be the same boy she’d thumped over the head in the fifth grade? She’d gotten into such trouble that day. Surely someone with such goodly features was not her eleven-year-old nemesis, was he?

Kate self-consciously raised her hand to cover her mouth. She didn’t want anyone seeing her in such a state.

“
Gute maiya
, Emma,” the young man said, walking quickly toward Mamma and removing his hat. He halted in his path as his eyes landed on Kate, and his expression turned to one of surprise. With something akin to awe in his voice, he said, “The nightingale has returned.”

Wishing she could throw a flour sack over her head, Kate tried to smile. “There is no need to call me that. My brother would say it is gross vanity.”

“Kate Weaver, you have a stunning voice, but the judges will never notice you if you don’t sing with more power. Relax your tongue and stop trying to control the sound, honey. You want to stand out.”

“Only the most wicked among us called you ‘Nightingale.’ We knew you did not wish to be singled out in that way, and we were unkind to tease you.” The young man studied her face. “You are the same,” he said, “except grown older.”

He stared at her unashamedly while she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. Kate recognized admiration in his eyes and felt puzzled. Didn’t he see the ugly purple and blue surrounding her eye or the cherry-sized bulge that used to be her lip?

Mamma disturbed him from his trance. “Will you eat something, Nathaniel?”

He looked at Mamma, and it seemed to take a moment for her words to register. “No, denki. I must get back to the workshop.
Mamm
asked that I bring this by.” He held out the package to Mamma. “It is a tobacco poultice for the bruising. I thought it was for Solomon, but now I see…” His voice trailed off, and for the first time since he came, his smile disappeared.

“Do not worry, Nathaniel. Kate has had some trouble, but she is not made of eggshells.”

Nathaniel nodded, doubt still plying the corners of his mouth.

“Tell your mother denki,” Mamma said, taking his package. “She is always a kind friend.”

Nathaniel examined Kate again. What was he looking for? Without a word he came closer and put his calloused hand to her face. Stunned, Kate sat perfectly still as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You need a comfrey paste for the lip,” he said, his eyes riveted to hers. “And a different kind of poultice for the eye. How is the pain?”

Kate cleared her throat. “There is… It stings a little.”

“My mother…will…know…what…,” he said, seeming to lose his train of thought with each word.

He pulled his hand away suddenly and put on the smile he came in with. “I will come by later with more from my mother,” he said. “And drink some rose hip tea,” he added on his way out. “I will bring that too.”

They watched him leave as quickly as he had come. Mamma clicked her tongue. “Even if the house burned down around him, that boy couldn’t keep his eyes from you, Katie.”

Kate groaned. “Oh, Mamma, I am so embarrassed. I’ve tried very hard to despise him ever since he kissed me. I think I was fourteen before I stopped sticking my tongue out at him every time he looked my way.”

“I never understood why you disliked him so much after that kiss,” Mamma said.

Kate played with the ties of her kapp. “The other girls made fun of me for weeks, and the boys sniggered every time Nathaniel came within spitting distance. I felt humiliated.”

Both mother and daughter burst into peals of laughter. “Poor boy,” Mamma said, wiping tears from her eyes. “It would throw his heart to the pigs if he knew.”

Kate thought of his good-natured expression and handsome features. “Mamma, he has changed so much since I last saw him!”

“You remember Nathaniel King as
lang
and gangly, all arms and legs. As a teenager, his feet arrived at church service five minutes before he did. He’s filled out nicely, wouldn’t you say, leibe? With the arms of a carpenter.”

Kate could only nod her agreement.

Chuckling, Mamma went back to tending her bacon. “You have been gone two years, and before you even left home, he spent several months as an apprentice to an uncle in Ohio. He has not seen you for like as not three years yet.” She took her skillet off the cook stove. “If you like, I will invite him to dinner.”

Kate grinned. “Will you wait until my lip grows smaller? If he wants to try more kissing, I need to be ready.”

Mamma chuckled and shook her head. “Leibe, do not tease me. You will only raise my hopes.”

An hour before suppertime,
Dat
appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, where Kate and Mamma were finishing the snitz pies. He took off his muddy boots, hung up his hat and jacket, and washed his hands and face before giving Kate a serious look and beckoning her to follow him. After dusting off her hands on a towel, Kate reluctantly joined her father in the front room.

He motioned for her to sit on the overstuffed sofa facing the window then pulled up a chair almost knee-to-knee with her. Out the window, the sun peeked bravely through the clouds as water left over from the rainstorm dripped off the eaves of the house.

“Now, Katie,” he said, shaking his finger in her direction. “Mamma insisted I stay away today so I would have a chance to calm down before speaking with you. I have paced the orchards all day, and now,” he paused and raised his voice, “I have not calmed down. I missed my dinner, and I am hungry. It is no use trying to calm down. Tell me what has happened to you.”

Kate lowered her eyes. “It will not make you happy.”

“Leibe, nothing you could tell me about getting a black eye will make me happy,” he said. “When my daughter comes home battered and bruised, believe me, I am ready to be made miserable.” Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at her sternly.

“Oh, Dat,” she said, a sob parting her lips. The tears flowed so quickly she did not have time to push them back.

Dat patted Kate awkwardly on the head. “There, there, liebe. No need to cry about it.”

“I am sorry to bring upset to the house.”

“Maybe now you will never want to leave.”

Kate sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I do not know yet.”

“I see,” her father said. “They do this to you, and you want to return?”

“One man, Dat. They are not all like him.”

“Too many are.”

The room darkened as the clouds drifted over the sun. Kate sat up straight. “My friend, Maria, you remember. I wrote about her.”

“You give her singing lessons.”

“Jah. The father of her baby, he drank too much one night and came to hurt her and the baby, and I stood between them.”

Dat shook his head. “Why must you do things like this, leibe?”

“You would have done the same.”

“Jah, but that doesn’t mean I want you to,” he said.

Kate smiled. “I follow your example in all things.”

“Was your friend harmed?” Dat asked.

“He broke her arm. The baby was not hurt.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes. They took him to the hospital.”

Her father raised an eyebrow.

“I am sorry,” Kate said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “I must tell you. I wanted to hurt him. I
tried
to hurt him.”

Dat frowned. “Jah, Lord Jesus said to turn your cheek.”

She lowered her head. She would do almost anything but make her father ashamed of her.

Dat patted her hand. “But He also said he who offends one of his little ones—it is better if a millstone is hung around his neck and he is thrown into the sea. Perhaps by sending this man to the hospital, you saved him from a worse fate.”

Kate frowned. “Perhaps.”

“What’s done is done. You will hear no else about it from me. You have not been baptized yet,” Dat said, with an emphasis on the
yet
. “But you still belong to this community, Katie, for as long as you choose. You are one of our daughters and will find love with us, not condemnation.”

“Jah, I know. When I went away to school, I know everyone tried to understand and not to judge. Except Aaron. He did not understand.”

“Your brother has only concern for you in his heart,” Dat insisted.

“Very deep down, I think.”

Dat smiled. “We all must learn what we must learn. Even Aaron.” He scooted his chair away from her then fixed his eyes steadily on Kate. “If you go back to the academy, you will stay away from this man?”

Kate nodded. “I promise, Dat. I promise.”