Bumpy Ride Ahead! (10 page)

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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

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Mark followed Dad out the door. When they entered the barn, he glanced up at the shelf where he’d put his wooden horse for safekeeping. Perry would never find it there, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to reach it.

Dad opened Ginger’s stall door and had just picked up her currycomb, when Lucky ran into the stall, chasing a mouse.

Suddenly, Ginger whinnied and reared up. Then she bolted out of the stall and raced into the main section of the barn. She kicked up her feet, banging walls and knocking into things. The next thing Mark knew, the shelf near the barn door vibrated, and his little wooden horse dropped to the floor with a thud.

Ginger, still thrashing about, stepped on the toy, and it broke into several pieces!

“Oh no!” Mark gasped. “No more wooden horse.”

Dad hollered, “Whoa there! Hold steady, Ginger!”

“She smashed my toy horse,” Mark said after Dad had grabbed hold of Ginger’s halter.

Dad didn’t seem to be listening to Mark. He was too busy looking at Ginger’s hoof. “This isn’t good,” Dad said with a shake of his head. “It’s not good at all.”

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked, leaning close to Dad.

“There’s a piece of wood wedged in her hoof, and the wound that resulted in her stepping on that toy horse is bleeding pretty bad.” Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “Guess I’d better go out to the phone shack and call the vet. Looks like we won’t be using Ginger to pull our buggy to church in the morning after all.”

Mark swallowed hard. If he hadn’t hidden the wooden horse in the barn to keep Perry from playing with it, this never would have happened. Mark wished now that he hadn’t been so selfish and would have at least let Perry hold the toy. He hoped Ginger would be okay. The poor horse never would have hurt her foot if it hadn’t been for his selfishness. Grandpa Miller probably would have said that Mark needed some horse sense!

C
HAPTER
10
A New Treasure

On Monday afternoon, just before school ended for the day, Anna Ruth took a bag of candy from a drawer in her desk. Dan and Becky Yoder’s mother had given the candy to the teacher this morning and said she could give each of the scholars a piece before they went home today.

Mattie licked her lips as she eagerly waited for her turn to take a piece of candy from the bag. She hoped there was a strawberry-flavored one.

Mark and Mattie were the last ones in line, and Mark got to the teacher’s desk just before Mattie. There was only one piece of candy left, and Mark quickly reached inside the sack, snatching it up.

“Hey, what about me?” Mattie couldn’t believe Mark had taken the last piece.

“Oh dear,” Anna Ruth said. “I guess there wasn’t enough candy for all the scholars.” She looked at Mark. “Won’t you share your piece of candy with Mattie?”

Mark shook his head. “It’s chocolate. Mattie doesn’t like chocolate.”

Anna Ruth looked at Mattie. “Is that true?”

Mattie nodded. “But I would have taken a piece of chocolate candy if there’d been another one.”

“You want half of this one?” Mark asked, although he didn’t look too happy about it.

Mattie shook her head. “No, that’s okay; you go ahead.”

Mark took the wrapper off the candy and popped it into his mouth before his sister could change her mind. “Yum! This sure is good.”

“I’ll bring you a piece of candy tomorrow,” Anna Ruth told Mattie. “What flavor would you like?”

“Strawberry.” Mattie smacked her lips. “I like that kind the best.”

“I’ll see if I can find some strawberry-flavored candy,” Anna Ruth said.

Mattie grinned. “Danki, Teacher.” Then she turned and followed Mark out the door.

“I wonder why Dan and Becky’s mamm didn’t send enough candy to school,” Mark said as they climbed on their bicycle built for two. “You’d think she’d know how many scholars there are at our school.”

“I’m sure she does,” Mattie replied. “She probably just didn’t count each one in the bag.”

“Oh, you mean their mamm probably
estimated
how many she put in the bag?” Mark further explained that the word
estimate
meant a calculated guess.

Mattie rolled her eyes thinking,
There go those big words again.

Even though her brother’s big words annoyed her most of the time, sometimes Mattie actually found herself using those big words after Mark had explained them to her. She didn’t want to admit it to him, but she was learning a whole new vocabulary of words, not only from her brother but also from Grandpa Miller. Mattie thought that someday her twin brother would make a good teacher. Maybe he’d end up teaching at their own schoolhouse here in Walnut Creek instead of working with Dad and Ike in the wood shop, liked he’d talked about sometimes.

As they pedaled out of the school yard, Mark called over his shoulder, “Sure hope Ginger’s foot is doing better today. Dad wasn’t happy about havin’ to call the vet, and I don’t think anyone in the family liked havin’ to walk to church on Sunday morning ’cause Ginger couldn’t pull the buggy.”

“I didn’t mind walking,” Mattie said. “It wasn’t raining yesterday, and the nice weather gave me a chance to get a close look at all the colored leaves and pretty fall flowers along the way.” She tapped Mark on the shoulder. “Speaking of flowers … I see some bright yellow ones up ahead. Let’s stop a minute so I can pick some to take home.”

Mark grunted. “I’m not stoppin’ so you can pick posies.”

“They’re not posies, and I don’t want them for me. I thought it would be nice to give a bouquet to Mom.”

“Oh, alright.” Mark stopped pedaling, and so did Mattie.

After they’d set the bike’s kickstand, Mattie walked into the field where she’d seen the flowers, while Mark looked around for any unusual rocks.

“Hey, Mark!” Mattie hollered from the center of the meadow, twirling around with her arms outstretched. “Look at all this. It’s like I’m standin’ in an ocean of mustard!”

Mark looked in the direction of his sister’s voice. Putting his hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun, he realized that Mattie was standing right in the middle of a field full of goldenrod.

“I’m not sure you should pick that, Mattie,” Mark warned. “They do look pretty, but I think it’s the same weed that makes Perry
niesse.

Mattie returned with a few stems of the amber-colored plant and asked Mark if he was sure it was this wildflower that made their little brother sneeze.

“Jah, that’s what they call goldenrod. It’s a type of weed, and Perry’s allergic to it,” Mark insisted.

“Allergic?”

Mark explained that Perry had an allergy to goldenrod. Having an allergy meant their little brother had an unusual sensitivity to this plant that was otherwise harmless to others. “When Perry’s exposed to the weed, he sneezes,” Mark said once again. “Allergies cause some people to have a strong reaction. Other times, it’s a mild reaction like sneezin’.”

“Well, what am I gonna do now?” Mattie asked. “I really wanted to bring Mom a pretty bouquet of
blumme
today.”

Mark looked around, and on the other side of the road, near a small grove of trees in the corner of a pasture, he spotted some flowers.

“Look over there near those trees,” he said, pointing. “From here, it looks like asters and all sorts of other wildflowers you might wanna check out.”

Mattie looked in that direction, carefully crossed the road, and bounded toward the trees. When she got up to the flowers, she started picking right away—pink, pale blue, violet, and white—there were all sorts of pretty wildflowers growing in that spot.

Mark figured Mom would be pleased with the pretty bouquet Mattie would give to her when they got home, and while his sister picked the flowers, Mark found two small rocks that he liked. One was flat with green stripes running through it. The other one was black and shaped like a duck’s head.

Mark put both of them in his pocket; then he continued to look around. Suddenly, his eyes caught a flash of silver.

“Hmm … I wonder what that is,” he said, bending down for a closer look. He was surprised to discover that it was a small knife, and it looked brand new.

Every boy needs a pocketknife
, he thought to himself.
Especially me, since I don’t have one yet.

This pocketknife was very unique. It was silver colored, and there was an eagle etched on the outside. When Mark opened the knife, he noticed some lettering carved in the blade, and it read: S
OAR HIGH, LIKE AN
E
AGLE.

Mark turned the knife over and over again, looking at all the details.
This is the best thing I’ve ever found
, he thought, smiling to himself.

Mark looked around a bit more, hoping to find some other things lying along the road, until Mattie joined him again with her large bouquet of flowers.

“You were right, Mark.” Mattie held up the bouquet. “Mom should really like this one. Look how colorful it is.”

“Well, I hope we can get them home safely. Just be careful how you put ’em in the basket,” Mark said.

“I will.” Mattie walked to the back of their bike, where their lunch pails were tied onto the metal carrier. “I think I still have a paper towel in my lunch pail that I can put in the bottom of the bike’s basket. That should get the blumme home without ruining ’em.”

Waiting for Mattie to take care of the flowers, Mark slipped his new treasure into his pocket.
Maybe I can learn to carve something with this
, he thought.
I won’t try a wooden horse because that would be too hard, but I might be able to carve a toy wagon.

When Mattie and Mark got home, Mattie couldn’t wait to show Mom the pretty flowers she’d picked. Luckily, the paper towel had protected the flowers, and they were still in good shape.

Jumping off the bike and not even waiting for her brother, she bounded up the walkway and into the house, knowing that the flowers should be put into a vase with some water.

“Look, Mom!” Mattie exclaimed, out of breath. “I found some pretty blumme for you today on the way home from school.”

“Ach, Mattie, they are so nice.” Mom took the flowers from her and went to find a vase. “You really did get an assortment of pretty colors today. Danki very much.”

When Mom came back holding a clear vase with scalloped edges, Mattie was pleased that she liked them so much.

“How’s this vase?” Mom asked.

Mattie smiled. “That one’s my favorite.”

“I think I’ll put these flowers in the center of our table tonight,” Mom said as she snipped the bottoms of the stems and arranged them in the vase. “Don’t you think they’ll look pretty there?”

Mattie bobbed her head.

“Do you know what type of wildflower these are?” Mom asked, motioning to the purple and pink ones.

“Mark said those kind are called asters,” Mattie answered, pointing to the colorful flowers that looked like a daisy.

“Jah, I do recognize them now,” Mom said. “Do you know that asters are sometimes called Christmas daisies?”

Mattie thought that was special. She sure loved flowers—and Christmas, too.

“You might not realize it yet,” Mom said, “but it’ll be memories like this that’ll make your appreciation for flowers even more meaningful later in life.”

Mattie gave a nod. “I think you might be right.”

“You should get the wildflower book Grandpa and Grandma Miller gave you for your birthday in August. Maybe you can identify the other wildflowers that are in the bouquet with the asters,” Mom suggested.

“I’m goin’ to my room right now to look them up.” Mattie was pleased that her grandparents had given her such a wonderful gift this year on her birthday. The book had lots of interesting pictures of flowers and their descriptions. It even told where in the United States each type of flower could be found. It also had a chart showing what season of the year certain wildflowers could be seen. All this would make it easier to identify the wildflowers she’d brought home today.

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