Look Out, Lancaster County Page 16

  The deacon grunted, and Orlie made another dive for the mouse. This time he grabbed it by the tail. The men nodded. The women sighed. Rachel just stood there, shaking her head. She figured Orlie had only tried to capture the mouse so he would look good in everyone’s eyes.

  He probably brought the mouse into the house in the first place, Rachel thought. He probably just wanted to play another trick on me.

  As Rachel went out the door with Cuddles in her arms, she mumbled, “I wish Orlie Troyer would move back to Indiana.”

  Chapter 8

  Misadventures

  Rachel kicked a small stone with the toe of her sneaker as she headed to the chicken coop. She felt fretful, but not because of her chores. She dreaded going to school the day after Esther’s wedding and facing Orlie again.

  Rachel had been scolded by both Mom and Pap because her cat had disrupted the wedding. After Cuddles and the mouse had been put outside, the rest of the ceremony had been fine. Rachel had tried to explain that the cat had probably entered with guests who came into the house, but Pap had been quick to remind her that Cuddles should have been locked in the basement during the wedding.

  As far as Rachel was concerned, the whole episode had been Orlie’s fault. She was sure he’d brought the mouse into the house in order to cause an uproar.

  Rachel entered the chicken coop and held her nose. She didn’t want to be in this smelly building any longer than she had to. She opened the bag of grain, scooped some out with a dipper, and filled each feeding tray. Next it was time to give the chickens water.

  Rachel picked up a watering dish and stepped out of the coop. Then she rinsed out the container, filled it with fresh water, and hurried back across the yard.

  Squawk! Squawk! Rachel had just stepped back into the coop, when a chicken flapped its wings and flew up in her face. As Rachel tried to shoo the chicken away, the dish flipped out of her hand, and water went everywhere. “Oh, no. Now I have to start all over,” she moaned.

  Rachel had only taken a few steps toward the door, when her foot slipped on the slimy, wet floor. “Umph!” She landed hard. Clucking chickens flew everywhere, bumping into Rachel, pecking at each other, and sending feathers flying in every direction.

  “Always trouble somewhere,” Rachel grumbled.

  She scrambled to her feet and stared at her rumpled, wet dress. Now she would have to change clothes before school.

  Rachel went back outside to fill the watering dish, only this time she carefully screwed on the lid.

  When Rachel was heading back to the house, she heard a horse whinny. Maybe she had enough time to say hello to old Tom.

  Rachel scampered to the fence separating their yard from the pasture. “Come on, Tom. Come and get your nose rubbed.”

  Nee–eee. Tom pawed at the ground.

  Rachel climbed onto the fence and leaned over, extending her hand. “Come over to me, boy. I can’t reach you from here.”

  Nee–ee! Nee–ee! The horse continued to paw at the ground.

  “What’s the matter with you, Tom?” Rachel waited to see what Tom would do, but he wouldn’t budge.

  Grunting, Rachel lifted one leg and eased herself over the fence. Once her feet touched the ground, she moved over to stand beside the horse. “Easy, boy. Easy, now,” she said, reaching out to touch Tom.

  He bent his head and nuzzled her hand.

  “Sorry, but I don’t have a treat for you this morning. Guess I should have brought a sugar cube or an apple for you, huh?”

  Tom whinnied and bounced his head up and down, as though agreeing with her.

  A field mouse scampered through the grass at Rachel’s feet, reminding her of the mouse at Esther’s wedding. Her fingers curled into her palms until they dug into her flesh. Orlie should be punished for doing that, and for giving me that wormy apple the other day, too.

  “Guess I’d better get back to the house now,” Rachel said, giving Tom another pat. “I’ll come visit you again soon.”

  Suddenly, the mean old goose that sometimes chased Rachel waddled up to Tom, squawking and pecking at the horse’s legs. Tom flicked his ears, sidestepped, and kicked his back leg out at the goose. The goose flapped her wings and screeched. When Tom’s foot came down, it landed right on the toe of Rachel’s sneaker. She squealed and jumped out of Tom’s way. So much for doing her good deed for the day.

  “Every time I try to do something nice, things go bad,” she muttered as she limped away.

  By the time Rachel got back to the house, her foot hurt so bad she could barely stand.

  “What’s wrong, Rachel?” Mom asked when Rachel hopped into the kitchen. “Did you hurt yourself in the chicken coop?”

  Rachel shook her head as tears filled her eyes. She had been able to keep from crying until she saw the look of sympathy on Mom’s face. Now she wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears. “I—I went out to the pasture to see Tom, then the crazy old goose came along and—”

  “Did that cantankerous critter attack you like she did this summer? Because if she did, I’ll have your daed put her down.”

  “The goose didn’t attack me. She was after old Tom.” Rachel hobbled to a chair at the table. “Tom kicked out at her, and his foot landed on my toe.” She sniffed. “It hurts something awful.”

  Mom knelt in front of Rachel and removed the sneaker and black stocking on Rachel’s right foot.

  Rachel gasped when she saw how terrible her big toe looked. Not only was it swollen, but it was purple. “No wonder it hurts so bad,” she whimpered. “Do—do you think it’s broken?”

  Mom’s glasses had slipped to the middle of her nose. She pushed them back in place as she studied Rachel’s toe. “It could be, but we can’t do much for a broken toe. We’ll need to put ice on it. And you’ll need to stay off that foot for a few days.”

  Rachel’s mood brightened. “Does that mean I don’t have to go to school today?”

  Mom nodded. “Since this is Friday, you’ll have the weekend to rest your toe. You should feel up to going to school by Monday.”

  Rachel didn’t like the pain shooting from her toe all the way up her leg. But if it meant missing school today, she was glad it had happened. She’d avoid seeing Orlie. She could also lie on the sofa all day with her foot propped on pillows and read her favorite book.

  Mom rose to her feet. “Your daed’s still doing chores with Grandpa and the boys. I’ll have him carry you upstairs to your room as soon as he comes in.”

  “Can’t I lie on the sofa in the living room?”

  Mom’s forehead wrinkled. “Oh, I don’t know, Rachel. Jacob will be at school, but everyone else will be busy all day getting rid of the mess from yesterday. And we still have to clean the living room.”

  “I won’t be in the way, I promise.”

  Mom shook her head. “I think it would be best if you stay in your room.”

  Rachel didn’t argue. She was so glad to stay home from school that it really didn’t matter where she spent the day.

  Rachel reclined on her bed with her foot propped on two thick pillows and an ice bag resting on her toe. She thought about all the fun things she wished she could be doing. Even helping Mom, Pap, Grandpa, Esther, and Rudy clean the house would be better than lying alone with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. She couldn’t even play with Cuddles, because after what had happened yesterday, Mom had banned Rachel’s cat from the house until further notice.

  Rachel glanced at the clock on the table by her bed. She wondered what her classmates were doing right now. Probably spelling, she thought with regret. Spelling was Rachel’s favorite subject. She always did well whenever she had a spelling test.

  “How are things going?” Mom asked, poking her head into Rachel’s room.

  Rachel shrugged. “I’m bored. I don’t have anything to do. I wish I could be downstairs with everyone else.”

  “Maybe later, after we finish cleaning.” Mom lifted the ice bag from Rachel’s toe and squinted. “Looks like the swell
ing’s going down, but you need to stay off that foot for the rest of the day.” She turned toward the door. “I’ll refill your ice bag.”

  “Danki.”

  Several minutes later, Mom returned. Besides the ice bag, she held the small sewing kit she’d given Rachel for her birthday. “Since you’re bored, I thought you could do some mending for me.”

  Mom placed the sewing kit on the table by Rachel’s bed and handed her one of Pap’s socks with a hole in it.

  Rachel frowned as she laid the sock beside her on the bed. “Oh, Mom … do I have to?”

  Mom nodded and headed across the room, calling over her shoulder, “Pap will carry you down when it’s time for lunch.”

  The door clicked shut, and Rachel sighed. She didn’t care much for sewing, because she still couldn’t sew a straight seam. Well, maybe it didn’t matter how well she sewed, since no one would see the mended hole in Pap’s sock.

  Rachel reached for her sewing kit, threaded the needle, tied a knot, and picked up the sock. In and out, in and out, the needle went, until the hole finally disappeared. Her stitching was uneven and thicker in some parts than others, but at least she’d finished the job. Now she only needed to cut the thread and tie a knot. She picked up the scissors and held the sock up where she could see the tiny thread. Snip. “Rats! I missed.” She tried once more. Snip. She missed again.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Rachel wailed. “Can’t I do anything right today?” She leaned closer and lifted the scissors for the third time. Snip. The thread still clung to the needle, but a piece of white ribbon lay in her lap.

  Rachel reached up and touched the ties on her kapp. One tie was shorter than the other. “Oh, no! Now what have I done? I never should have gone to visit old Tom this morning.” She flopped onto her pillow and thought about her horrible day. If only she’d returned to the house after feeding and watering the chickens, she wouldn’t have gotten her toe stepped on. She would be in school right now, not sitting here looking at the tie she had cut by mistake. Even putting up with Orlie’s teasing might have been better than sewing alone in her room. This was not a good day!

  Chapter 9

  Woolly Worm

  “How’s your toe feel today?” Grandpa asked as he took a seat on the porch beside Rachel on Sunday afternoon. Today was an off Sunday from church, so Rachel’s parents had gone with Jacob and Henry to call on Grandpa and Grandma Yoder. Grandpa Schrock didn’t want to go, and Rachel had decided to stay home with him.

  “It’s a little better now,” Rachel said, removing her slipper and lifting her foot.

  Grandpa leaned forward and squinted. “Hmm … still looks kind of purple, but the swelling’s gone down. Think you’ll be ready to go to school tomorrow?”

  She shrugged. “My foot will be ready, but I’m not sure I will.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not looking forward to seeing Orlie again.”

  “He’s that boy in your class who teases you, right?”

  Rachel nodded.

  Grandpa pursed his lips. “It seems you might do best to ignore the fellow.”

  “I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work. Orlie keeps doing things to annoy me.”

  “Have you prayed about it, Rachel?” Grandpa asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

  She shook her head slowly, ashamed to admit that she hadn’t prayed. She’d been so angry with Orlie she hadn’t thought to pray about the matter.

  Grandpa gently squeezed her shoulder. “When I was a boy my mamm always told me that prayer was the key to each new day and the lock for every night. There isn’t much of anything that shouldn’t be given to God in prayer.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Rachel said. “I’ll try to remember to pray about Orlie.”

  Grandpa smiled. “Good girl.” He meandered across the porch and plucked something off the wooden rail. “Well, well … what do you know?”

  “What is it, Grandpa?”

  “It’s a woolly worm,” he said, extending his hand out to her. “I used to see a lot of these in Holmes County, Ohio.”

  Rachel shrugged. “What’s so special about a woolly worm? It’s just an orange and black fuzzy caterpillar.”

  “Oh, no, Rachel … there’s more to woolly worms than their color.” Grandpa sat in the wicker chair again and closed his hand, trapping the woolly worm inside.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about the woolly races.”

  Rachel tipped her head to one side. “Woolly races? What are those?”

  “The woolly races involve a contest that’s held in October during Charm Days.” Grandpa uncurled his fingers and let the woolly worm creep around in his hand. “As many as eighty kinner take part in a contest to see whose woolly worm can be the first to make it to the top of a heavy piece of string.” He chuckled, and Rachel noticed a twinkle in his blue eyes. “It’s truly funny to see those youngsters clap, blow, whistle, and sing, trying to get their woolly worms up that string.”

  Feeling excitement zip up her spine, Rachel jumped out of the chair. “Got any ideas where I could find more woolly worms?”

  “I might. Why?”

  “I could take them to school and have a contest during recess.”

  Grandpa nodded and rose to his feet. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” He faced Rachel, his expression becoming serious. “You’ll have to abide by one important rule, though.”

  “What rule is that?”

  “No touching the worm with your hands to make him move up the string.”

  Rachel nodded as her excitement grew. “I’ll make sure everyone who takes part in the race knows that rule.”

  “I have something fun planned for recess this morning,” Rachel said to Jacob as they headed for school on Monday morning.

  “Oh, yeah? What?”

  “I’m going to have a woolly worm race.”

  “A what?”

  “A woolly worm race. Yesterday Grandpa told me about a contest that involves racing woolly worms. He helped me find a bunch of woolly caterpillars, and I’ve got eleven of them right here,” Rachel said, lifting her lunchbox.

  Jacob wrinkled his nose. “You put caterpillars in your lunchbox?”

  She nodded.

  “I hope you don’t plan to eat them, Rachel.”

  “Of course not, silly. I’m going to have a woolly worm race during recess. The ten woolly worms the other kids will race are inside a cottage cheese carton in my lunchbox.” She grinned. “I put Speedy in a yogurt cup by himself.”

  “Speedy?”

  “That’s right. Since Speedy’s the fastest caterpillar we found, I’ve decided to race him.”

  Jacob rolled his eyes and shook his head. “What a bensel you are, little sister.”

  Rachel didn’t bother to argue. She figured Jacob was probably jealous because he hadn’t thought to have a woolly worm race at school. He’d see soon enough how much fun racing woolly worms could be.

  When they entered the schoolyard, Rachel felt more and more excited. She and Grandpa had spent several hours searching for woolly worms. They’d looked under piles of leaves, in the compost heap behind Mom’s vegetable garden, and behind a tree’s bark. They’d even found a couple of worms by the side of the road. Rachel was sure the school children would enjoy the woolly worm race. Since she’d practiced the day before with Speedy, she was sure she would win.

  At the school, Rachel opened her lunchbox. She placed the cottage cheese and yogurt containers on the floor under her desk. That way the woolly worms would have more air to breath through the tiny holes she’d poked in the lids. Teacher Elizabeth didn’t seem to notice what Rachel was doing, as she was busy writing the math lesson on the blackboard.

  “I brought something fun with me this morning,” Rachel whispered when Mary sat down across from her.

  Mary leaned over as far as she could. “What is it?”

  “You’ll find out at recess.”

  Mary shrugged and turned to face
the front of the class, where Elizabeth stood with a Bible in her hands. Rachel barely listened as their teacher read from God’s Word. She could only think about Speedy and the race she was sure he would win for her. It was hard to concentrate on the lesson after the time of prayer and singing. At recess time, Rachel reached under her desk, grabbed both containers, and bounded from the room.

  “May I have your attention, everyone?” she shouted as she stood in the middle of the schoolyard.

  A few girls and Orlie came over to see what Rachel wanted. Most of the boys, including Jacob, ignored her and kept playing.

  “What’s up, Rachel?” Mary asked, scrunching her nose.

  “Are you planning to eat lunch early today?” Orlie laughed and pointed to the cottage cheese and yogurt containers in her hands. “Do you want us to watch you eat it, huh?”

  She scowled. “What I have inside these containers is much better than cottage cheese or yogurt.”

  “What do you have?” Aaron King asked. “Is it something to eat?”

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s woolly worms. I brought them so we can have a contest.”

  “What kind of contest?” Phoebe Wagler, the bishop’s granddaughter, wanted to know.

  “It’s a race to see whose woolly worm will reach the top of the string first.”

  Orlie’s eyebrows furrowed. “What string? I don’t see any string.” He turned to face Mary. “Do you see any string?”

  Mary shook her head, then looked at Rachel with questioning eyes. “What string are you talking about?”

  “This.” Rachel reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a ball of heavy string. “We can cut it into long pieces. Then we’ll tie one end to the top fence rail and the other end to the bottom rail. We’ll each set our woolly worm on the string and see which one gets to the top first.”

  “But I don’t have a woolly worm,” Aaron said with a frown.

  “Me neither,” Mary put in.

  Rachel lifted the cottage cheese carton. “They’re right here. You can take your pick.”