Beside Still Waters (6 page)

The afternoon sun cast a long shadow down the unpaved, country road. Marianna walked with slower steps than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aaron who often passed by on his way home from work at a nearby dairy. Still in his
rumspringa,
Aaron could drive an automobile like most of their friends, but he didn't. He'd yet to join the church, so there was much he could experiment with—drinking, smoking, Englisch dress—yet he hadn't done that either. Like her, the things of the world seemed more hassle than they were worth—or least that's what he told her. Also like her, he was one of the oldest children in his family and he knew the best thing he could do for his parents before moving out to live on his own was to provide a good example for his brothers and sisters.

She neared her family's two-story farmhouse with a gray door and white curtains in the windows, like every other Amish home in the area. A large oak shaded the front porch and two blue jays danced from branch to roof to branch. Watching this, a strange peace came over her. On the buggy ride home yesterday her parents hadn't spoken about the move, and she hoped that being around their community of friends had changed Dat's mind.

A smile filled her face at the sight of her mother taking down sheets from the clothesline. Everything appeared like it always was until the older woman turned. Marianna saw a look of sadness mixed with anger peering out of her mother's hazel-eyed gaze. The air smelled of wildflowers, mixed with the scent of soap from the sheets and the rich soil of her father's fields and something else. Was it her imagination or could she smell automobile exhaust drifting on the wind?

"It's about time you found your way home. Did ya lose your way?" Mem's tongue was sharp. "I thought you'd gotten lost. It's nearly supper. I need yer help."

"Sorry. Mrs. Ropp needed me to entertain her older kids while she bathed the baby. We picked wild flowers." Marianna swung the small bucket filled with foxgloves, black-eyed Susans, and—her favorite—larkspur, brushing it against her apron, hoping her mother would notice them. "And before that I was making pies with Rebecca. We have six apple ones cooling in her window sill for church."

"
Ja,
well, you should help at home first. I haven't had a break all day, and now my head aches." Her mother folded a bright white sheet, plopping it in the wicker laundry basket, not taking her normal care.

Marianna looked to the porch and noticed Ellie humming as she sat on the green, wooden front porch swing, kicking her legs and rocking. Everything looked content. What had gotten her mother so riled?

From her mother's countenance, and the smell of car exhaust, Marianna was certain her older brother Levi had stopped by. David might have been right about him lingering around last night, too.
Maybe he's missing us . . .

Marianna couldn't imagine how it pierced her mother's heart seeing her oldest son driving his Englisch car down the dirt road in full sight of all the neighbors. Part boy, part man, her brother came around when he needed money or to fill his belly. He lived with friends in a mobile trailer near town and supposedly had a job, but Marianna had never heard him talk about work. Most nights she prayed Levi would leave his corrupt ways, return to his Amish roots, join the church, and be baptized. Other times she wished he'd move away.

Instead, Levi lived just far enough away to keep their mother up at nights with worried thoughts and close enough to bring their father shame.

Since Levi refused to join the church, her father had told her to treat her brother as if he were dead to them, but every time he said that, pain tightened her mother's face and darkened her gaze. To Marianna, death meant the shin-high gravestones protected by a crooked rusting metal gate on her grandfather's land. It also meant the two trees her mother had planted south of the house after her sisters' deaths. Levi was still very much alive.

The oldest, he was twenty-one—the age when most young men joined the church—and although Marianna was only two years younger, she worked hard to let her parents know her path was already set. As soon as scents of autumn filled the air, she'd start meeting with the ministers in preparation for baptism into the church. Her decision was without question. It's something she'd always known she'd do. It was the right thing.

It was what Marilyn and Joanna would have done, she was sure of it.

The sound of a chair leg scraping on the floor inside carried through the open window and pulled her attention back to the house. Her other brothers most likely played down by the creek making mud cookies. Twelve-year-old David probably frolicked in the corn crib or the hayloft with the new kittens, if Mem was lucky. On more rebellious days he tried to walk the roofline or parachute from his bedroom window. And Marianna doubted her father would be home. He was never home this early in the day.

Marianna looked at her mother. "Is someone inside?"

"Naomi came by." Mem's proffered explanation was simple. "She's in the house kneading the bread dough. Told her she needn't help, but she insisted. Said she missed being around our family."

Marianna took a step toward the house, then paused. There was something in her mother's gaze. Mem wanted to say more but didn't.

Naomi had been a fixture at their home as long as she could remember. Well, at least until Levi left. Once he was on his own, Naomi's visits dwindled considerably. And when she did come, the pain in her eyes matched Mem's.

Naomi's family was their closest neighbors, and they'd all played together as children. They'd fished together, swam together, played hide and seek around the farm. As Levi and Naomi entered youth it was obvious they'd grown to be more than friends. Everyone knew they'd be married some day. Or at least they thought so until Levi's attention wandered to the trappings of the outside world. If anything would have committed Levi to joining the church, it should have been Naomi. How her heart must break that even her love wasn't enough to distract him from the temptations of the Englisch world.

Levi's attraction to the things of the world wasn't unusual. Many youth were drawn to the same, including Marianna's friend Rebecca. Even as they'd made pies this morning, Rebecca had talked about a recent movie she'd seen at the theater and about the party she'd be going to next Saturday night. Of course, she also talked about quilting and asked how Marianna's quilt was coming along. It seemed her friend was torn between two worlds. Marianna just hoped that, unlike Levi, Rebecca would stay at home and realize the narrow path was indeed the better way.

Overhead a robin chirped in a high tree branch, but the lovely sound didn't bring a smile to her mother's face. In the distance the gray silo and tall silver windmill peeked over the red barn's sloping roof. Her mother turned to her, placing hands on her hips.

"Hope you were
only
making pies with Rebecca, not getting into any trouble." She smoothed her hand across the taunt clothes line, as if feeling the warmth of the sheet before she unpinned it. The breeze ruffled the sheet and tussled the strings of her mother's kapp. As if also wanting to join the dance, a strand of her mother's brown hair escaped its hold and fluttered on the wind.

"Yes, we made pies. That is all." Marianna sighed as she hurried up the front steps. Then she turned again. "Rebecca's father said he saw Aaron this morning," she said, hoping to bring brightness back to her mother's gaze.

"That Aaron is such a nice boy. Is he still a hired hand at the Stoll's dairy farm?"

Marianna's fingers tightened around the handle of the pail. "
Ja,
and I heard he purchased a few head of cattle for his own." Heat rose to her cheeks, remembering their conversation yesterday.

Her mother's eyes brightened, and the storm cloud that had swept over her countenance blew away.

"
Ja,
good, good. He always was a hardworking lad. He'll make you a fine husband some day. The perfect Amish boy." Wistfulness laced her mother's voice, and Marianna could almost finish her thought:
Unlike Levi.

Marianna heard the jingle of the tack and traces on her father's buggy and, without turning, she knew he crested the hill behind her. She also knew he neared from the way her mother straightened her kapp and tucked the stray strand of hair behind her ear. It was moments like these when she witnessed her parents' love. Outward expressions weren't seen often—it wasn't the Amish way—so Marianna appreciated every hint of affection she saw between them. Would she have the same eager glint in her eye when she saw Aaron?

"I thought about making a berry pie, for after dinner. There's still some filling in the pantry—" Marianna noticed her mother's smile fade and her jaw tighten. She turned, already guessing who she'd see riding by her father's side. There was only one person other than Levi that caused her mother such grief.

"I'll finish this, Mem." Marianna set the pail of flowers on the ground, near the back porch steps, and took the basket of clothespins from her mother's grasp.

But Mem didn't move, didn't speak. Instead, she stared at the two men as they parked the buggy in front of the barn. Uncle Ike was the first to jump down. His laughter boomed, overwhelming the sound of the birds. His eyes twinkled. His face wore a wide smile, and to Marianna the laughter was the booming of thunder just before a storm.

CHAPTER FIVE

Naomi's back was to Marianna as she entered, and Marianna paused in the kitchen doorway. A few strands of Naomi's red hair could be seen at the base of her neck under her kapp. Her shoulders were slumped, her head down. Two large ceramic bowls sat on the kitchen table, covered by white, clean cloths. The bread was rising. Her work was done. And still Naomi didn't leave.

Marianna took a step forward on the bare, wooden floor. Her footfall hit a loose board and squeaked. Naomi turned, eyes wide. Marianna expected tears, but instead noted Naomi's red-tinged cheeks and eyes bright. The excited look made the pail of flowers in Marianna's hand look drab.

"Mari, I didn't see you." Naomi rose, tucking what appeared to be a letter into her pocket. She bit her lip, lifted her chin, and tried to relax her features, but it did little good. Then she glanced behind Marianna, as if expecting others to follow. Marianna shook her head.

"You look so happy." Marianna frowned. Why did Naomi look so . . . joyful? Levi had turned his back on Naomi. He'd walked away.

Unless . . .

Unless there was news in that letter stating he'd changed his mind. That he was coming back. Coming back to Naomi. To his family. To the community. To join the church.

"Levi was here, wasn't he?" Marianna walked around the kitchen table and approached the sink. She set the pail of wildflowers on the counter and then reached into the open cupboard and took out a large jelly jar filled with berry pie filling.

Naomi lifted the towel and peeked in at the rising dough, looking away from Marianna's gaze. She turned her attention back to the sink. Clear water from the faucet bubbled and splashed in the jar and hopefulness did the same in Marianna's heart.

If Levi decided to return to the way of their ancestors, not only would her brother once again be in right standing with God, perhaps her parents wouldn't want to leave. Loss over the deaths of their sisters had caused them to withdraw from the community—or at least that's what her grandmother had said. It had been hard for them to bury two daughters and see everyone else's children growing, changing, joyfully interacting in the community. All the while knowing their girls would never do any of it.

Things were different concerning Levi.

The adventure of the mountains might be calling her father, but the rumors of her brother's actions were no doubt giving her father a big push out the door. Being farther away, they wouldn't see Levi so often, wouldn't hear about the many ways he was becoming more Englisch. Wouldn't see the downward spiral. She wished she could talk to her brother, make him understand. His choices didn't just affect him.

Not even close.

Naomi rose and grabbed a wooden cutting board from where it hung on the wall on a single nail, then she placed it on the table in front of her, sprinkling it with flour, sitting once more on the bench. "Levi
was
here, not too long ago. How did you know?"

Marianna turned off the water and then arranged the wildflowers in the jar, mixing up the brown-eyed Susans between the Indian grass and the pink foxgloves. "Two clues. Your reaction and Mem's. She's not happy."

"No, it wasn't a nice visit." Naomi poked the dough, but seeing it still needed more time to rise, she returned the dishtowel and pushed the floured cutting board to the side. "Levi picked up some clean laundry. I'm sure your father doesn't know your mem is still washing Levi's clothes. He took some food, too. Your mother was kind but didn't say much. Maybe she would have said more if I hadn't been here."

"That doesn't sound bad. I thought you were going to say they got into an argument."

"It's worse. The little kids climbed into his locked car through an open window. The boys were honking the horn over and over. Your mother said she was sure the neighbors could hear the ruckus in the next county. She spanked all three boys and told them to head to the creek and sit there until she went for them. And even worse, Ellie clung to Levi's leg, not wanting him to leave." Naomi sighed, as if remembering one good part of his visit. Then she pressed her hand against her pocket. Marianna wished she could read the letter. If it had been Rebecca here instead of Naomi, Marianna would have heard every word of it. Twice.