Look Out, Lancaster County Read online

  Esther stood at the sink, washing the wedding dishes. “What took you so long?” she asked. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back.”

  “Sorry. On my way out to the cornfield, I stopped to say hello to old Tom; and then on the way back to the house, I spent a few minutes in the barn with my kitten.” Rachel wasn’t about to tell her sister about Dinky. If Esther knew, she’d probably tell Mom and Pap about Rachel’s plans.

  Esther flicked a soapy bubble at Rachel. “I started washing the dishes without you.”

  Rachel grabbed a clean towel from the drawer near the sink and reached for a china cup. “I’m here now, so I’ll dry the dishes.”

  Esther smiled. “Danki. [Thank you.]”

  “You’re welcome.”

  As Rachel dried each dish, she carefully set it on the counter. The last thing she wanted to do was to break one of Esther’s wedding dishes. Mom would scold her for sure if that happened. Esther probably would, too.

  When they finished with the dishes, Esther told Rachel, “I’ve been thinking …”

  “What have you been thinking?”

  “You mentioned earlier how much you dislike walking to school with Jacob.”

  Rachel nodded. “That’s true.”

  “Why don’t you see if Mom will let you wait at the end of our driveway until some of the other scholars go by? Then you can walk with them.”

  “I suppose I could, but Jacob would probably tag along, and he’d still badger me about walking too slow,” Rachel answered. “Then the others would probably make fun of me, too.”

  Esther pulled Rachel to her side and hugged her. “I know it’s hard being a child, but someday, when you’re grown and married with kinner of your own, you’ll realize your school days weren’t so bad after all.”

  Rachel shook her head. “That won’t happen, because I’m never getting married. Not ever!”

  Chapter 4

  A Hard Lesson

  On Monday morning, after Rachel ate breakfast, she hurried to help Mom and Esther do the dishes; then she turned toward the stairs leading to her room.

  “Where are you going, Rachel?” Mom called to her. “You don’t want to be late for school.”

  “I just need to get something from my bedroom,” Rachel explained. She scampered up the stairs before Mom could say anything else. When she entered her room a few seconds later, she rushed to her dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. She took out a large matchbox with several tiny holes along the top. Next, she went over to her bed, got down on her hands and knees, and pulled out Dinky’s coffee can.

  Rachel opened the lid and lifted Dinky out by his tail. Then she placed him in the matchbox. She couldn’t hide a coffee can at school, but she knew she could easily hide a matchbox. Dinky looked happy and plump, because Rachel had taken good care of him, feeding him bits of cheese and cracker covered in peanut butter.

  With a satisfied smile, Rachel rushed back to her dresser and grabbed a sweater from the same drawer where she’d hidden the matchbox. She wrapped the sweater around the matchbox, tucked it under her arm, and headed downstairs.

  When Rachel entered the kitchen, she spotted Esther sweeping the floor. Mom stood at the counter making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. At least it’s not tuna this time, thought Rachel.

  “Jacob’s outside waiting for you,” Mom said. She slipped the sandwich into a plastic bag and placed it inside Rachel’s lunchbox. Then she tipped her head to one side and stared at Rachel. “What’s with the sweater this morning?”

  “In case I get cold,” Rachel said. She grabbed the lunchbox off the counter and ran to the door, hoping Mom wouldn’t ask more questions.

  “I don’t see how you could possibly get cold,” Esther said. “It’s been so warm the last few days; I can’t imagine why you’d need a sweater.”

  Rachel shrugged. “That may be true, but fall is almost here. You never know when the weather might turn chilly.”

  Mom and Esther exchanged glances, but neither of them said a word. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief and hurried out the door.

  Jacob stood on the porch, tapping his foot. “Well, it’s about time. Are you trying to make us late for school?” he asked with a scowl.

  She shook her head. “We won’t be late, unless you dillydally.”

  “Jah, right. You’re always the one who walks too slow. I don’t stop to look at every bug and flower along the way like you do.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do so.”

  Rachel clamped her lips together so she wouldn’t say anything more. She was in no mood to argue with Jacob. She only wanted to get Dinky safely to school so she could teach Orlie his first—and hopefully best—lesson of the day.

  At school, Rachel slipped into the classroom while the other children were still playing in the schoolyard. She was relieved to see that Teacher Elizabeth was busy writing something on the blackboard. Rachel tiptoed to Orlie’s desk. She took the matchbox out of the folds of her sweater, lifted the lid on his desk, and placed it inside, where Orlie was sure to find it when he reached for his school supplies.

  Rachel scooted out the front door and joined Mary on the swings.

  “You’re not going to throw up again, I hope,” Mary said, wrinkling her nose, as her lips scrunched together.

  Rachel shook her head. “I’ve learned my lesson about twirling on the swings.”

  “That’s good to hear, because you looked green in the face when you came out of the outhouse that day, and I was worried about you.”

  “I’ve never gotten sick at school before,” Rachel said. She pulled hard at the chains on the swing. “And I hope I never do again.”

  “Me neither. It’s not fun to be grank.”

  “The only good part of being sick is that you get to stay home from school.” Rachel pumped her legs to get the swing moving faster.

  “Why would you want to stay home?” Mary asked. “Last year you liked school.”

  “That was true, until Orlie Troyer moved here and made my life so miserable.”

  Mary clicked her tongue, the way Mom often did. “He only bothers you because he knows he can.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means, if you ignored him, he’d probably leave you alone. When a boy knows that his teasing bothers a girl, he does it more.”

  Rachel let her cousin’s words roll around in her head awhile. Maybe Mary was right. If she didn’t let Orlie know she was upset by the things he said and did, maybe he would leave her alone. “But it’s too late for that,” she mumbled when the school bell jangled. Orlie was about to get a big surprise.

  Mary halted her swing. “Too late for what?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Rachel jumped off her swing. Then she hurried into the school. She knew if she was late, Orlie would probably tease her about that, too.

  He deserves that little present I left him this morning! she thought. Finding a mouse in his desk might make him think twice about bothering her. And if that didn’t work, she would ignore him, as Mary suggested.

  Rachel glanced at Orlie as she passed his desk. He nodded and gave her a lopsided grin. She looked away quickly and slipped into her seat.

  Teacher Elizabeth started the morning by reading Luke 6:31. “‘Do to others as you would have them do to you.’”

  Rachel’s cheeks burned. Would she want someone to put something she was afraid of in her desk? No, of course not. A pang of regret shot through her. She gripped the sides of her desk, wishing she could run out the door. Maybe Orlie wouldn’t see the matchbox. Then she could take it out of his desk during recess.

  Rachel forced herself to stand beside her desk and recite the Lord’s Prayer with the other scholars. But all she could think about was her naughty deed. She wondered if she’d get in much trouble.

  A nudge in Rachel’s back pushed her thoughts aside. “We’re supposed to go up front so we can sing,” Orlie said.

  Rachel plodded to the front of the room with the oth
ers and moved her lips as though she were singing. I wonder if Orlie will know I’m the one who put the mouse inside his desk. She poked a fingernail between her teeth and nibbled until it broke. He’ll probably tell the teacher on me.

  After the singing, the scholars returned to their seats. Rachel’s insides quivered as she sank into the chair behind her desk, fretting about what would happen when Orlie discovered the mouse.

  Orlie passed Rachel’s desk and wiggled his eyebrows. Rachel turned and watched as he flopped into his seat with a silly grin. He lifted the lid on his desk. Rachel’s heart nearly stopped beating as she waited for him to see the matchbox she had placed there. But to her surprise, it wasn’t a matchbox Orlie took out of the desk; it was his math book and some paper.

  Maybe he didn’t see the matchbox. Maybe I can still get it.

  Rachel reached into her own desk to get her arithmetic book, but before she had a chance to open it, Teacher Elizabeth let out a shrill scream and hopped onto her chair.

  “Ach! Ach! There’s a maus on my desk!”

  Rachel noticed the matchbox sitting on one corner of Teacher’s desk. Why hadn’t she noticed it before, and how did it get there?

  Dinky poked his tiny head over a stack of papers. He darted around the desk a few times, hopped into the open drawer of Elizabeth’s desk, jumped back out, and skittered down the side of the desk.

  Thud! As Dinky landed on the floor, the room filled with screams and screeches. A few girls leaped onto their chairs. Some boys sat at their desks, pointing at the mouse and laughing until tears ran down their cheeks. A few others joined Rachel in the chase to catch the mouse.

  “Open the daer [door] and maybe it’ll run outside,” Mary suggested.

  “No, don’t open that door!” Rachel hollered. She saw Dinky scurry under Mary’s chair.

  “If it comes my way I’ll smash it,” David Esh, the boy who sat in front of Mary, hollered.

  “You’d better not kill my pet maus!” Rachel could have bitten her tongue. She hadn’t meant to admit that Dinky was hers. Now everyone would think she had put the mouse on Teacher Elizabeth’s desk.

  Elizabeth stepped down from her chair just as Rachel scooped Dinky into her hands. “Rachel Yoder, is that your maus?”

  Rachel nodded slowly. “Jah.”

  “Did you bring it to school to scare me?”

  “No, Elizabeth.”

  “Then why was it in a matchbox? And why was it sitting on my desk?”

  “Well, I—” Rachel shuffled her feet and stared at the floor.

  “Raus mit—out with it!” Elizabeth’s face was getting redder. Rachel knew she needed to say something to calm her teacher.

  “I didn’t bring Dinky—I mean the maus—to school to scare you, and I don’t know how it got on your desk,” she said.

  “Well, it didn’t get there by itself, now, did it?”

  “No, Teacher.”

  “Put that mouse outside right now,” Elizabeth demanded. “Then you’ll need to sit down and do your math. You’ll stay after school today to clean the chalkboard and do extra lessons.”

  Rachel felt sick. Dinky had become like a pet to her. If she let him go outside, she would never see him again. She didn’t know how that matchbox got on Elizabeth’s desk, but she figured Orlie must have had something to do with it. He’d probably found it in his desk and put it on the teacher’s desk during the time of singing. Most likely he’d done it to get Rachel in trouble. Rachel disliked Orlie all the more. To make things worse, Jacob would have to stay late to walk her home. Then Mom and Pap would learn she’d taken a mouse to school, and that would spell trouble.

  With a heavy heart, Rachel opened the schoolhouse door, plodded down the steps, and set Dinky on the ground. “Good-bye, little friend. I hope you have a good, long life.”

  When Rachel returned to her seat, Orlie leaned over her shoulder and whispered, “Why’d you do it, Rachel? Why’d you put that maus in my desk?”

  “You—you knew?”

  “Jah, and I think it was a dirty trick.”

  Rachel sat with her arms folded. She could only think about losing Dinky and the punishment she’d get at home.

  Guess that’s what I get for trying to get even with Orlie, Rachel thought. I should have just ignored him, like Mary said.

  Rachel decided to memorize Luke 6:31: “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

  Chapter 5

  Hurry-Up Cake

  For the next several weeks, Rachel tried to stay out of trouble. She’d avoided Orlie so she wouldn’t be tempted to do anything to him that she wouldn’t want him to do to her. She also didn’t want to do extra chores again. That had been her punishment for the mouse incident. She knew she’d been fortunate to escape a trip to the woodshed for a bletsching [spanking].

  One Saturday morning Rachel looked at her calendar and realized it was Jacob’s birthday.

  “Oh, no,” she moaned. “I forgot his birthday.” Rachel and Jacob didn’t always get along, but he was still her brother. She wanted to do something special to wish him a happy birthday.

  Rachel rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Seeing her mother in the room, she quickly stepped up to her and whispered, “Where’s Jacob?”

  “He’s outside doing chores, along with your daed and older bruder [brother].” Mom nodded toward the basement door. “Esther went down to get the gift she hid for Jacob, and I asked her to bring up some canned peaches to go with our breakfast.”

  “I’m glad Jacob’s not here.”

  Mom’s glasses had slipped to the middle of her nose. She pushed them back in place and turned toward the stove. “Why are you whispering, Rachel?”

  “I wanted to be sure Jacob didn’t hear me.”

  “I just told you, he’s outside doing chores.”

  Rachel felt the heat of embarrassment creep up the back of her neck. Mom must think she was hard of hearing, or a real dummkopp [dunce]. “I just realized today’s Jacob’s birthday,” she explained. “I don’t have anything to give him, so I was hoping I could make something he might like to eat.”

  Mom opened the drawer at the bottom of the stove and reached for the frying pan. “Jacob has a sweet tooth, so why don’t you bake him a cake?”

  “Is there enough time?”

  “There might be if you make a hurry-up cake. That mixes and bakes faster than most other cakes.”

  “That’s a great idea!” Rachel scurried to the cupboard where Mom kept baking supplies. “What exactly do I need?”

  “Let’s see now…. The recipe calls for cake flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, vanilla, butter, milk, and eggs.” Mom called out the ingredients so fast that Rachel could barely keep up. She rushed to the cupboard, then to the refrigerator to get everything she would need. She was tempted to ask her mother to repeat the list. But she didn’t want Mom to think she was a little girl who couldn’t remember anything.

  “The directions for making the cake are in my recipe box,” Mom said, as she plucked several brown eggs from the carton Rachel had just placed on the cupboard. “I’ll need some of these for the French toast I’m making. That’s one of Jacob’s favorite breakfast foods.”

  Rachel nodded, even though she knew Jacob liked most food. He even liked tuna sandwiches and spinach, both of which Rachel could do nicely without.

  “Be sure you mix the eggs and butter first. Then add the dry ingredients and milk alternately. Next, put in the vanilla and beat hard, and then pour the batter into two greased and floured cake pans. I’ll heat the oven while you’re doing that,” Mom said.

  Rachel’s head felt as if it were spinning like a top. So much information rolled around. But she did her best to remember Mom’s instructions. She was setting everything on the cupboard, when Esther entered the room. She had a large paper sack in one hand and a jar of peaches in the other hand.

  “Where’s the birthday boy?” she asked, handing Mom the peaches. Then she placed the sack on one end of the counter. “I
figured Jacob would be in here looking for his birthday presents already.”

  “He’s still doing chores with your daed and Henry.” Mom motioned to Rachel. “Your sister’s in a hurry to get a cake baked before Jacob comes in, so maybe you can help her.”

  Esther started toward Rachel, but Rachel shook her head. “If this is my gift to Jacob, then I need to make it myself,” she explained.

  “Okay, but let me know if you need anything.” Esther opened one of the cupboard doors and removed a stack of plates. “I have to set the table anyway.”

  Rachel got out the recipe box and removed the card for hurry-up cake; then she quickly measured out the ingredients and put them in a large bowl. She hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything, and that she’d put in the right amounts. The last thing she needed was for her cake to flop. Then Jacob and Henry would tease her.

  “Watch out, Rachel, you’re spilling flour all over the floor.” Mom groaned. “I mopped in here after supper last night, and now you’re making a mess.”

  “Sorry. I’ll clean it up.”

  Rachel scurried to the utility closet to get the broom. She was on her way back when phlumph! She slipped in the spilled flour. The broom flew out of Rachel’s hands, and she landed with a thud on the floor.

  “Rachel, are you okay?” Mom and Esther asked at the same time. They hurried to Rachel’s side.

  “I’m all right.” Rachel clambered to her feet, her face heating with embarrassment. Why was it that every time she tried to do something that might prove she was growing up, she made a mess of things?

  “If you’re going to finish Jacob’s cake before he comes inside, you’d better get it in the oven and let me clean the floor,” Esther said, bending to pick up the broom.

  Rachel didn’t argue. She hurried to the counter and poured the cake batter into two cake pans, while Esther swept the floor and Mom followed with a wet mop. Then Rachel carried the pans of cake batter across the room. She placed them in the oven. When that was done, she collapsed into the nearest chair. She didn’t know how Mom and Esther did so much baking—mixing the hurry-up cake together made her tired. At least now, if Jacob came into the kitchen before the cake was done, she could tell him that his birthday present was in the oven.