The Parting (33 page)
Suzy’s wicked life will never touch another soul. . . .
Washday dawned mighty quick, and since Mamma was in bed and under the weather, the time-consuming chore fell to Nan and Nellie, because Rhoda had to leave for work earlier than usual. Rhoda didn’t say why, which annoyed Nellie, what with having to juggle the washing and the larger-than-normal amounts of baking.
Down in the cellar, Nan talked to Nellie of wishing for an electric washing machine—“maybe even a dryer, too, someday. Lots of folks at yesterday’s meeting said such things matter little in the eyes of God.” Nellie sighed inwardly and was mighty sure this sister had missed out by not being present for the bishop’s warning yesterday at Preaching.
Goodness—seems she’s already set on goin’ fancy
.
As kindly as was possible, she put up with Nan’s evident enthusiasm for modern conveniences, paying closer attention when Nan said she saw “two new groups rising among those at Manny’s gathering.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said.” Nan pushed more clothes into the gaspowered wringer washer. “There’s one group that’s mostly concerned about knowledge of salvation, like Dat. And there’s another group wanting to own tractors and cars and other useful things.”
“What’s Preacher Manny think of all this?” Nellie had assumed Preacher Manny’s splinter group would be consumed with Bible study, like her parents were—not the yearning for fancy things like Nan indicated.
“I don’t know exactly,” Nan admitted. “He talked only about Scripture, really.”
“Can you imagine Dat ever drivin’ a car?” Nellie had to ask.
Nan shook her head. “Never.”
“But he could fall prey to the other group eventually—like the Beachy Amish—and desire those things, ain’t so?”
Nan laughed a little. “Mamma will keep that from happening, don’t ya know?”
Nellie agreed that was probably true.
“I’ve heard some talk of Dat’s cousin Jonathan bein’ interested in cars,” Nan added.
“Does he own one yet?”
“He will soon, I ’spect . . . according to the grapevine. Doubtless he’ll have himself electric next and a tractor with rubber tires, too. Why not, when he’s already shunned.”
Nan went on. “You should go to Preacher Manny’s with us and see for yourself, Nellie Mae. I think you’d be surprised, just maybe.”
She stiffened. “I’m not interested in turnin’ my back on the Old Ways.”
“Ach . . . the Old Ways.” Nan chuckled. “Just imagine not havin’ to hang all these clothes on the line, and on such a frosty day, too.” With that she flounced upstairs with another wet load, leaving Nellie to ponder every speck of their conversation. If nothing else, she was glad Nan was at least speaking to her again.
Rosanna sat in the hospital waiting room, exerting some degree of patience as she awaited further word on Cousin Kate’s condition. Being the only Amishperson in the room made her feel like a pea out of its pod, yet she was determined to see Kate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know precisely how to go about requesting a visit, what with so much hustle and bustle in the hallways as doctors and nurses came and went.
After a time, she rose and searched for what looked like an information desk to ask about her cousin.
“Are you related to Mrs. Beiler?” the woman asked, recognition in her eyes.
It’s the head covering, no doubt
.
“I’m her first cousin,” Rosanna replied.
The woman paused, nodding and glancing down at a list of names. “Mrs. Beiler’s one popular woman, or so it seems. She’s had a total of nine cousins visit her already.”
Rosanna didn’t see how she was going to convince her that she, too, was a cousin. She might have turned to leave without seeing Kate at all, if Aunt Rachel hadn’t walked toward her at that moment. Rachel came up and slipped her arm around Rosanna’s waist, leading her down the hall. “Are they keepin’ you from Kate?” she asked.
“Not sure, really.” Rosanna paused. “Is she goin’ to be all right?”
“Well, she’s terribly weak . . . they’re watchin’ her closely.
She lost an awful lot of blood. You haven’t heard?”
Rosanna shook her head. “I’m so sorry to learn of it. Will she be able to go home soon?” She didn’t dare ask about the twins, because she wasn’t sure if Aunt Rachel even knew yet that her grandbabies were going to be raised by Rosanna.
“Jah . . . soon.” Rachel gazed seriously at her, then whispered, “Ach, Rosanna, I think what Kate’s doin’ is downright peculiar, ’tween you and me. I just yesterday heard from John what he and Kate decided to do for you and Elias.” Her aunt seemed a bit put out; then her eyes brightened some. “Even so, it seems the twins will know who their first Dat and Mamma are, jah?”
Rosanna recalled that awkward conversation and nodded her head. “That’s what Kate wants.”
Aunt Rachel touched her hand. “I’ll be wantin’ to see my grandyoung’uns quite a lot, I’m sure you know.”
Rosanna agreed, feeling sorry for Rachel, who was only now getting used to the idea of her flesh-and-blood grandbabies going home with someone else. “You can come see them anytime. In fact, I’ll be happy for the extra help.”
Rachel smiled suddenly. “Oh, you’ll have all kinds of help, trust me.”
“Denki,” whispered Rosanna, grateful Rachel seemed accepting of the plan. “Thank you ever so much.”
Nellie was grateful when Nan stopped by the shop midmorning with the last of the baked goods, even going so far as to help unload them into the display. Once her sister left to start cooking the noontime meal for Mamma, however, Nellie took great care to rearrange the gingerbread and oatmeal cakes. “I’m a fussbudget,” she muttered, knowing it was ever so true.
Going around the front of the display case, she stepped back, pretending to be a potential customer, surveying the place. Just then, dark-haired Joy Landis entered. Nellie was surprised to see her on a school day. “Hullo,” she said. “Can I help you?”
The girl smiled shyly, and Nellie caught sight of the tiny American flags on her earlobes. Nellie must have stared too long at her earrings, because Joy reached up to touch one ear and asked, “Do you like these, Nellie Mae?”
Nellie felt her cheeks flush red and forced a smile. “Jah, they’re perty.”
“I’m wearing them because it’s Veterans Day. We’re off school today.”
Nellie vaguely remembered having a day’s break on a November Monday back when she was a student. The teacher had told her the holiday was to honor soldiers who’d fought in America’s wars, so it wasn’t one a peace-loving Amish girl was likely to recall.
Joy suddenly seemed awkward, looking away as if perhaps she had something on her mind but didn’t know how to express it.
“Care for a sample?” Nellie offered, thinking that might be what she wanted.
“No . . . but thanks anyway.” Joy strolled nearer the display case, eyeing several kinds of cookies.
Nellie went around the counter to stand and wait, wishing she could think of something to say to fill the silence. She thought of bringing up Joy’s cousin Darlene, wondering how she was doing
this
school year, but then felt she had no business inquiring.
Just when she thought Joy was going to stare a hole in the peanut blossoms, she looked up, meeting Nellie’s gaze. “I’m not here to buy anything today but because I promised my mother I’d set the record straight.”
Listening, Nellie did not move an inch.
“I know some people around town thought your sister was a wild one, but Suzy helped a whole bunch of kids from school. I’m not kidding.”
Nellie studied her. “Why are you sayin’ this?”
Joy looked over her shoulder at the car parked outside. “My mother didn’t think you believed her.”
“Why should I?” Nellie’s words slid out too quickly. Joy would surely know by this that Nellie assumed her own dead sister was as wayward as gossip had her.
“You thought she was a rebel?” asked Joy.
Nellie couldn’t admit this to an Englischer. “Ach, I didn’t say that.”
“Well, just so you know, Suzy was the best thing that ever happened to Darlene.” Then, without saying good-bye, Joy turned and left the shop.
Nellie watched the slender girl slip into her mother’s car. It was obvious Joy had been coerced into coming here, and Nellie felt sorry for her. Yet she was glad, too, that Joy had found the courage.
“Goodness’ sakes,” Nellie Mae murmured aloud, rather stunned. “I guess it’s time to read the rest of your diary, Suzy . . . ain’t so?”
Nellie Mae raised the bed mattress and tugged on Suzy’s diary. She would give it one more look, hoping to find something good in her sister’s story. Even so, she dreaded wading through more of the muck and mire of Suzy’s Rumschpringe.
Flipping through the pages, well past the spot where she’d given up before, Nellie began to read again, hoping to find something good this time.
Today I spotted a weasel’s footprints in the mud along the stream on the other side of the road. Of course I had to follow them. Such natural things are so appealing.
Honestly, it’s like there are two of me. . . .
Suzy’s work boots squished in the moist soil along the creek as she followed the footprints, wondering where they might lead. She had wandered away from the house, wishing Nellie might come exploring with her, but there were customers, so Suzy didn’t bother to ask. She followed the weasel’s footprints all the way through the expanse of field adjacent to the neighbors’ land.
As she did so, she pondered the weasel-like way Jay Hess had behaved in recent weeks. She had not seen this side of him before—a spoiled child throwing a tantrum . . . and all because he couldn’t have his way with her.
To top things off, she’d happened upon some clean-cut boys passing out invitations to a “lively meeting,” as they called it. Truly a temptation it was, especially since the invitation came from the tall blond boy, Christian Yoder. His face reminded her of someone, though she couldn’t place who. She supposed if he hadn’t been so nice and talkative, she might not have accepted.
Naturally she knew better than to tell Jay of her Friday evening plans, lest he fly into a rage as he did if she so much as looked at another fellow. She’d wished he’d play by some of his own rules, since
he
flirted with other girls till the cows came home. She surprised herself by looking forward to an evening without him.
When that Friday evening arrived, Suzy slipped away after supper to the meeting, taking the pony cart. There were lots of young people—English and Plain—in attendance. Not many were in Amish dress like she was.
She’d noticed before merely in passing how pretty the Tel Hai campgrounds were. The cedarwood tabernacle building, with its open sides, drew her as she walked in behind a group of distinctly Mennonite girls, their hair combed straight back and topped by their cup-shaped, pleated white head coverings.
The music was as lively as Christian had said it would be—and inspiring. A young evangelist wearing a black suit shared God’s words, fervently urging repentance. Hundreds were present, including many couples and families sitting in lawn chairs—even buggies parked along the road so their occupants could listen in. Folk were transfixed by the sober words coming from the young minister, and many wiped their eyes, brushing back tears.
