Look Out, Lancaster County Page 12

  Orlie stared at her with a peculiar look on his face, and Rachel felt like a bug about to be squashed. “Can I ask you something, Orlie?” she questioned.

  He nodded. “Jah, sure. Ask me anything you like.”

  “What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

  “Eggs, sausage, and biscuits. Why?”

  Rachel fidgeted with the ties on her kapp as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Should she ask why his breath smelled so bad, or would that make him tease her more? “Well, I was wondering—”

  “Well, I was wondering—” Orlie mimicked. He tipped his head to one side, and a chunk of dark hair fell across his forehead. “What were you wondering, Rachel?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Did you have anything with garlic on it?”

  Orlie’s face turned red as a pickled beet. “My mamm gives me a clove of garlic to eat every morning. She says it’s to keep me from getting a cold.” He shuffled his feet and glanced around as though he were worried someone might hear. “When we lived in Indiana, I got sick a lot and missed many days of school. Mom didn’t want me to miss school this year.”

  Rachel stifled a giggle. She figured the garlic remedy probably worked pretty well, because with breath that bad, nobody would want to get close to Orlie. So he sure couldn’t get any cold germs from anyone!

  “You’re not gonna tell anyone I eat a hunk of garlic for breakfast every day, are you?”

  Rachel shook her head. No need for that. Anyone coming near Orlie would know he’d eaten a good dose of garlic. No wonder Pap called garlic “the stinking rose.” Phew! She could hardly stand the disgusting odor.

  The school bell rang, and Rachel felt a sense of relief. With Orlie sitting behind her, she wasn’t close enough to him to smell his horrid breath. Unless she turned around, of course, which she had no intention of doing on purpose.

  “Good morning, boys and girls,” Rachel’s teacher said with a smile as the scholars took their seats.

  “Good morning, Elizabeth,” the children said in unison.

  Elizabeth opened her Bible. “Today I’ll be reading from Mark 12:30 and 31. ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” There is no commandment greater than these.’”

  Rachel reflected on those verses. She thought loving God with her whole heart, soul, mind, and strength was easy enough, because God was a loving God who cared for His people and deserved everyone’s love in return. Loving her neighbors wasn’t too hard, either, since Rachel liked most of the folks who lived near them.

  Then she thought of Orlie and frowned. Orlie wasn’t so easy to love, however; but maybe she didn’t have to, since he wasn’t a close neighbor. Of course, Mom had reminded her this morning that the Bible said everyone should love even their enemies. Orlie wasn’t exactly an enemy. So, if he wasn’t Rachel’s neighbor and he wasn’t her enemy, maybe she didn’t have to love him at all. Maybe the best thing to do was to pretend Orlie didn’t exist. Yes, that’s what she would do.

  Rachel felt someone tap her on the shoulder. “Psst … Rachel, didn’t you hear the teacher?”

  Rachel sat there, determined to ignore Orlie.

  Tap. Tap. He thumped harder this time.

  Rachel whirled around. “What do you want?”

  “It’s time to stand and recite the Lord’s Prayer.”

  Rachel turned back around and realized everyone else in the room was standing—and staring at her! She quickly jumped to her feet. So much for her plan to ignore Orlie Troyer.

  The rest of the morning went fairly well, but at noon, when Rachel sat on the porch to eat her lunch, she discovered an unwanted surprise. Inside her lunchbox was a tuna fish sandwich with a hunk of wilted lettuce.

  “Yuck! I don’t like tuna,” Rachel moaned. She thought tuna was disgusting, and it made her feel funny bowing her head to say a silent prayer of thanks for something she wasn’t even thankful to eat. She closed her eyes. “Please God, no more tuna,” she whispered out loud to let Him know how serious she was.

  Orlie plopped down beside Rachel and tapped her on the shoulder just as she finished praying. “What’d you say?”

  She grunted and slid to the edge of the porch, hoping he would take the hint and find somewhere else to sit. “Nothing.”

  “Yes, you did. You said something about tuna.”

  Rachel figured she may as well tell Orlie what she was upset about or he’d probably keep bothering her. “I asked my mamm for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich today, and she gave me tuna instead.”

  His eyebrows lifted a little. “You don’t like tuna?”

  “No way! It’s oily and fishy and tastes really gross.”

  “No way! It’s oily and fishy and tastes really gross.”

  Rachel ground her teeth together and stared at him. “Stop mimicking me.”

  “I like tuna just fine. For that matter, there’s not much I don’t like in the way of food,” Orlie said with a nod.

  Rachel didn’t comment on Orlie’s last statement; she just sat there trying to think of what to do with the disappointing sandwich she held in her hand and wishing Orlie would sit with the boys out on the lawn.

  “‘Course there’s some things not related to food that I don’t like,” Orlie continued. “Want to know what they are?”

  “Not really. Why don’t you just eat your lunch and leave me alone?”

  “I don’t like buzzing bees, stinky pigs, dogs that bite, or smelly cow manure,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard Rachel’s request. “And I don’t care much for dirty little mice, either.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes skyward. Then she glanced around to make sure no one was watching. She was in luck. Everyone seemed busy eating their own lunches, and no one was looking Rachel’s way. Since Teacher Elizabeth had brought her lunch outside and was sitting on a quilt under the maple tree, Rachel figured she could sneak back into the schoolhouse unnoticed. She grabbed the sandwich, hurried across the porch, pulled open the door, and dashed to the garbage can. With only a slight hesitation, she dropped the sandwich in and headed back outside to finish eating her lunch.

  Since Orlie was still sitting on the porch, Rachel decided to take her lunchbox and sit on the grass near Mary. Unfortunately, Orlie followed and flopped down beside her. She looked the other way, and her stomach rumbled as she stared at her lunchbox. She only had a thermos of milk and one apple left. At this rate, she would starve to death before supper time.

  “Want half of my sandwich?” Orlie offered. “It’s bologna and cheese.”

  “No thanks,” she said with a shake of her head. No way was she going to eat anything of Orlie’s. It might have garlic on it.

  Chapter 3

  Dinky

  I’m sure glad this is Saturday and there’s no school,” Rachel said as she climbed the stairs from the basement and followed her sister into the kitchen. Pap, Henry, and Jacob were working in the fields, and Mom had gone to Grandpa and Grandma Yoder’s place soon after breakfast to help Grandma clean her house.

  Esther set down the wooden box she’d brought up from the basement and turned to face Rachel. “You don’t like school this year? You’ve always liked it before.”

  “I like school just fine. I don’t like Orlie Troyer.”

  “He’s that new boy at school, right?”

  “Right. And Orlie’s a real pain—always teasing, staring at me, mimicking things I say, and blowing his garlic breath right in my face.” Rachel wrinkled her nose and tapped the side of her head. “It’s enough to make me go ab im kopp [go crazy].”

  Esther chuckled. “Oh, Rachel, how you do exaggerate. I’m sure nothing that boy could ever do or say would make you go crazy.”

  Rachel shrugged. Esther could think whatever she wanted; she wasn’t the one who had to put up with Orlie’s irritating behavior. “There’s another reason I don’t like school this year.”


  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “I have to walk with Jacob every day, and he complains because I walk too slow,” Rachel said. “I wish I could ride a bike to school, like some English kinner get to do.”

  “Some folks believe other people’s bread tastes better than their own,” Esther said.

  Rachel nodded. “Mom has told me that more than once.”

  “It’s true. We shouldn’t waste time wanting things others own. We should be happy with what we have.”

  Rachel tried to be satisfied, but sometimes it wasn’t so easy. “Even if Mom and Pap did let me have a bike, Mom would probably say I’m too young to ride it to school.” She shook her head and groaned. “Why does everyone treat me like a baby?”

  Esther patted Rachel’s arm. “Being the youngest member of the family must be hard.”

  Rachel nodded. “If Mom had another boppli, I wouldn’t be the baby of the family anymore. Maybe then Mom and Pap would realize I’m grown up and would let me do more things.”

  “Jah, maybe so, but since Mom hasn’t had any bopplin [babies] since you were born, she probably won’t have any now.” Esther rubbed a spot on her lower back. “Whew! That box was heavier than I thought. Guess I should have asked Pap or one of the boys to haul it up from the basement for me before they headed out to the fields.”

  “I could have helped you with it,” Rachel pointed out. Sometimes she felt her older sister treated her like a baby, too. Just because Rachel was only ten years old didn’t mean she wasn’t strong or couldn’t help with certain things. At least she should be allowed to try.

  “You can help me now.” Esther motioned to the box sitting near her feet. “I want to check these good dishes over thoroughly for any cracks or chips; and then we need to wash them so they’ll be ready in plenty of time for my wedding on the first Thursday of November.”

  Rachel sighed. November seemed like a long time off, especially since she had to go to school every day between now and then. And she had to face that teasing, smelly-breath Orlie Troyer.

  “Are you sighing because you don’t want to help me?” Esther asked, reaching for the box.

  “Oh, no. I’m happy to help,” Rachel was quick to say. “I was just thinking that your wedding seems like a long time from now. I wish it could get here sooner.”

  “It’s only two months away, and we have a lot to do, so I’m sure the time will go quickly. If Mom hadn’t gone to help Grandma clean her house this morning, she’d be here now, helping me.” Esther smiled. “So I really appreciate your help, little sister.”

  Rachel pulled her shoulders back and stood as tall as she could. It was nice to be appreciated. “I’m sure I can do whatever Mom would have done.”

  “Jah, I’m sure you can.” Esther dropped to her knees by the box. “Now first we open the box and take out the dishes.”

  “Okay.” Rachel knelt beside her sister and fought the urge to rip the box open herself. She knew it would be better to let Esther do that, since the dishes were Mom’s best china and would be used at Esther and Rudy’s wedding.

  Esther’s hands shook like leaves fluttering in the breeze as she slowly lifted the lid. “I’m so uffgschafft [excited] I can barely make my fingers work.”

  Rachel didn’t see why her sister was so excited about opening a box of old dishes, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to hurt Esther’s feelings.

  When Esther lifted the lid, Rachel saw a row of delicate white china cups with little pink roses. Esther smiled slightly as she removed each one and set it carefully on the floor by the box. The layer under the cups held plates, and when Esther reached inside to remove the first one, the shredded paper surrounding the dishes moved a little. At first, Rachel thought it shifted from the movement of the plate, but when a little gray blob with beady eyes poked its head out of the paper, she knew what had happened.

  “Ach! It’s a maus [mouse]! It’s a maus!” Esther hollered, jumping to her feet. “That’s so ekelhaft [disgusting]!”

  “It’s not disgusting. It’s only a baby mouse that must have found its way in through here.”

  Rachel pointed to a small hole in the side of the box. She reached inside and picked up another plate, and the whole box seemed to move. Five little gray mice scurried about, ducking their heads in and out, and pushing shreds of paper in every direction.

  Esther let out an ear-piercing screech and hopped onto the closest chair. Her eyes looked like they were ready to pop right out of her head, and her face was as white as a pail of goat’s milk.

  Rachel could hardly keep from laughing at her silly sister. “Want me to catch the mice and take them outside?” she asked.

  “Jah, sure. If you think you can.”

  “Of course I can.” Rachel had a way with animals, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of a little old mouse, so she marched to the pantry and pulled out a paper sack. Then she hurried back to the box and reached inside. She felt brave and grown-up. One by one, she picked up the baby mice and placed them carefully into the sack.

  “It’s safe for you to get off that chair now,” she said, trying not to smile at her sister’s anxious expression.

  Esther clung to the chair like she feared for her life. “H–how do you know there aren’t more creepy mice inside that box?”

  “Well, let me see.” Rachel slipped her hand into the box again, while she hung on to the sack with the other hand. She dug around one side and then the other, dipping her fingers up and down and all through the shreds of paper. “Nothing is in here now except for more dishes.”

  One of Esther’s brows rose to a jaunty angle. “Are—are you sure?”

  “I’m very sure,” Rachel replied with a nod. “But if you’re scared, then you can wait until I come back to the house. Then we can take the rest of the dishes out together.”

  Esther lifted her chin and frowned at Rachel. “I am not scared. I just don’t like mice. I especially don’t like the idea of their dirty little feet climbing all over my good wedding dishes.”

  I just don’t like mice. I just don’t like mice. Rachel remembered hearing similar words the other day at school. But who had said them? Who had told her they didn’t like mice? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember, but nothing came to mind. Oh well, she guessed it wasn’t important. She needed to get the baby mice outside so Esther could climb down from that chair.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Rachel announced.

  “Jah, okay.”

  As Rachel opened the back door and stepped onto the porch with the bag full of mice, for some reason an image of Orlie Troyer popped into her mind. Thanks to Orlie, Rachel didn’t like going to school anymore, and that wasn’t fair. Well, she wasn’t one to give up easily. If she could find a way to get Orlie to quit bothering her, she would do it. If she could only find something Orlie didn’t like and tease him with it, maybe he’d finally leave her alone.

  The bag in Rachel’s hand vibrated as the mice skittered inside.

  “That’s it!” she shouted. “Orlie’s the one who said he didn’t like mice!”

  A smile spread across Rachel’s face. She decided she would turn four of the baby mice loose in the field behind their house, but she had other plans for mouse number five.

  Rachel trudged across the yard, climbed over the fence, stopped to pet the old horse Pap had put out to pasture, and headed for the cornfield. When she got there, she opened the sack and released four of the mice. “Good-bye little meis [mice]. Have a good life.”

  She crossed the pasture, gave old Tom another pat, climbed over the fence, and headed for the barn. There she found some coffee cans in a cupboard under her father’s workbench. Pap liked to save the cans to store his nails and other things. Rachel figured since her father had several empty cans, he wouldn’t miss just one. She placed the paper sack that held the baby mouse onto the workbench, then wadded up a clean rag she’d found in one of the workbench drawers and put it on the bottom of the can. Then she took a screwdriver and poked a fe
w holes in the plastic lid of the can.

  “All right, little maus, in you go.” Rachel opened the sack, removed the mouse, and placed it inside the can. “This will be your new home until Monday morning,” she said with a satisfied smile. “And from now on your name will be Dinky.”

  The little gray mouse wiggled its whiskers at her as she put the lid on the can.

  Suddenly Cuddles scampered across the floor and stopped at Rachel’s feet. The kitten stared at Rachel with sad eyes, meowing for all she was worth.

  Rachel felt bad because she hadn’t spent much time with Cuddles lately, so she sat on a bale of hay, placed the coffee can beside her, and lifted Cuddles into her arms. “Hey, there, sweet kitten, have you missed me?”

  Cuddles uttered a pathetic meow, then she licked Rachel’s nose with her sandpapery tongue.

  Rachel giggled. “That tickles.”

  Cuddles snuggled against Rachel and began to purr. Rachel closed her eyes. The kitten’s warm body and her purring felt so good that Rachel knew she could easily fall asleep. She opened her eyes, determined not to give in to the sleepy feeling, and sat there stroking Cuddles behind her ears.

  Suddenly, Cuddles’s nose twitched, and her ears perked up. Meow! She leaped off Rachel’s lap and landed near the coffee can that held Dinky captive.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Rachel scolded when Cuddles sniffed the lid of the can and swiped at it. “That mouse is going to be my pet, and he’s got a job to do at school on Monday morning.” She picked up the can and rushed out of the barn.

  Quickly, she made her way to the house and slipped inside the front door, so Esther wouldn’t hear her from the kitchen. Then, as quietly as she could, she tiptoed up the stairs and went straight to her room. She scurried to her bed, dropped to her knees, and slid the coffee can as far underneath the bed as she could. She’d give Dinky food later so he’d have plenty of energy for his mission on Monday morning.

  Rachel glanced at the clock by her bed and realized she’d been gone quite awhile. Esther probably wondered what was taking her so long, so she needed to hurry and get back to the kitchen.