Look Out, Lancaster County Page 27

  “Cuddles! Who let you in the house?” Rachel shook her finger at the cat. “And what are you doing with my shoe?”

  Meow! Cuddles dropped the shoe and pawed at Rachel’s leg.

  “Don’t ‘meow’ me,” Rachel scolded. “You know better than to play with my shoes. I’ll bet you snuck into the house when Jacob went to the barn, didn’t you?”

  Rachel picked up the cat. “I don’t have time to play with you now, so out you go.” She opened the back door and set Cuddles on the porch. “Find a warm place in the barn and take a nap.” Bam! She quickly shut the door.

  When Rachel returned to the kitchen, she gasped. A curl of smelly, gray smoke rose from her dress. “Ach!” she screamed. “My dress is burning!”

  Rachel lifted the iron and stared in horror at an ugly brown scorch mark. She realized that when she’d gone to see what the thump-thump-thump on the stairs was, she’d left the iron on top of her dress.

  A horse whinnied outside, and Rachel jumped. Mom and Pap must be home!

  Rachel knew it would be impossible to cover the smoke or hide the scorch mark on her dress, so she stood in front of the ironing board and waited.

  Mom entered the house. “What’s that horrible smell?” she asked, sniffing the air.

  Rachel pointed to her ruined dress and burst into tears. “I—I dribbled some paint on the front of my dress.” Sniff. “Then I washed it in the sink.” Sniff. Sniff. “I knew it would take too long to dry, so I tried to iron it.” Sniff. “I heard a noise on the steps.” Sniff. Sniff. “And when I came back to the kitchen, I’d left the iron on my dress. Now it’s ruined!”

  Mom slowly shook her head. “Oh, Rachel, don’t you know how dangerous it was for you to leave the iron on your dress when you left the room?”

  “I know, and I’m so sorry. I was afraid you’d be mad at me for spilling the paint, so I wanted to dry the dress before you got home.” Rachel stared at the floor as tears blurred her vision. “Now you’re mad at me for scorching the dress.” She gulped a sob. “I’m having such a dappich day! I can’t do anything right.”

  “You did the right thing by washing the paint out of the dress so quickly,” Mom said, her voice softening. “You just should have been more patient in letting it dry on its own.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ll save my money to buy material for a new dress.”

  “That won’t be necessary. You can sew a patch over the scorch mark and wear the dress for doing your chores.”

  Rachel frowned. Even though Mom had given her a sewing kit for her birthday last year, she still couldn’t sew very well.

  Mom hugged Rachel. “You need to remember we can’t always fix things or make them come out the way we would like. But you can always count on the knowledge that God loves you, and so do I.”

  Rachel smiled and hugged Mom back. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 10

  Chicken Pox and Chicken Soup

  One morning in early February, Rachel came down to breakfast scratching her arms. “I think there might be bugs in my bed,” she complained.

  Mom placed a kettle of water on the back of the stove and turned to face Rachel. “What makes you think that?”

  Rachel pulled the sleeve of her nightgown up and held out her arm. “I have little bumps all over my arms, and they itch something awful!”

  “Ach, my!” Mom exclaimed. “Those bumps aren’t from any bugs, Rachel. I’m afraid you’ve got wasserpareble [chicken pox].”

  “Wasserpareble?” Rachel repeated.

  Mom nodded. “That’s what it looks like.”

  “If you’ve got chicken pox, you’d better stay away from me,” Jacob said as he entered the room. “I sure don’t want them.”

  “I’ll hold my breath so I won’t blow any germs on you,” Rachel said.

  Mom patted Rachel’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Jacob had the chicken pox before you were born.”

  Jacob’s eyebrows lifted. “I did?”

  Mom nodded. “You, Henry, and Esther had them at the same time.”

  “Why didn’t I get them?” Rachel wanted to know.

  “You weren’t born yet,” Mom replied. “In fact, Jacob was just a boppli when they all came down with the chicken pox.”

  “What about you and Pap?” Rachel asked. “Have you had the chicken pox?”

  Mom nodded. “Your daed and I had them when we were kinner [children].”

  “What about Grandpa? I wouldn’t want him to get sick because of me,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

  “Why would I get sick?” Grandpa asked as he entered the kitchen.

  Rachel moved to the other side of the room. “I’ve got the wasserpareble, Grandpa. So if you haven’t had them, don’t get close to me.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “No worries, Rachel. I had chicken pox when I was a boy.”

  Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. At least she didn’t have to worry about spreading any chicken pox germs to her family.

  Mom looked at Jacob, and then at Rachel. “Has anyone at school had the chicken pox lately?”

  Jacob shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

  “No one in class has been sick for several weeks,” Rachel put in.

  Mom peered at Rachel over the top of her glasses. “How do you feel? Does your throat hurt? Do you ache anywhere?”

  “No, but I feel warm—and very itchy,” Rachel said.

  Mom touched Rachel’s forehead. “I think you’re running a fever.” She turned back to the stove. “I’ll fix some tea and toast and bring it to your room on a tray.”

  “Why can’t I eat breakfast down here?”

  “Because you’re sick and need to be in bed where you can rest.” Mom shook her head. “No school for you today, Rachel. Not until you’re completely well.”

  “I don’t want to miss school,” Rachel wailed. “We’re supposed to work on our valentines today. The school party is next week, you know.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to work on yours at home,” Mom said. “Now, scoot upstairs and get into bed. I’ll bring your breakfast tray up soon.”

  Rachel swallowed around the lump in her throat and shuffled out of the kitchen. She didn’t want to be sick. She wanted to go to school.

  Fighting tears of frustration, Rachel climbed the stairs to her room and crawled into bed. She lay there, staring at the ceiling and wishing she could bring Cuddles into her room to comfort her.

  “How do you feel, Rachel?” Mom asked when she entered Rachel’s bedroom.

  “I feel awful.” Rachel tried to sit up, but her head started to pound. She sank back into the pillow with a moan. “Now I’ve got a koppweh [headache], and my arms itch terribly.”

  “Try not to scratch. That will leave scars.” Mom set the tray she carried on the small table beside Rachel’s bed and moved to Rachel’s dresser. “These should help,” she said as she removed a pair of dark stockings.

  “What are those for?” Rachel asked. “If I can’t go to school and have to stay in bed, why do I need to wear stockings?”

  “They’re not for your feet. They’re to put over your hands so you won’t scratch the pox marks.” Mom slipped one stocking over Rachel’s right hand and one over her left hand. “That should help. Now I’m going back downstairs to make some comfrey tea to put on your pox.”

  Rachel squinted. “Why would you put tea on my pox?”

  “The tea is supposed to help them not itch so much.” Mom patted Rachel’s hand. “As soon as the tea is cool, I’ll be back.”

  When Mom left the room, Rachel rolled onto her side. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why do I always have so much trouble?

  Rachel spent the next several days in bed, trying not to scratch, and feeling sorry for herself. Besides the fact that she would miss the valentine party at school on Friday, she would also miss the spelling bee. Since spelling was Rachel’s favorite subject, she felt grouchy about having to stay home from school. Mom had reminded Rachel several times that she needed to learn more patience and
that some things weren’t in her control. However, Rachel was determined to get out of bed and prove she was doing better.

  Screetch…screetch. A scratching sound at the window drew Rachel’s attention. It had to be Cuddles, begging to get in.

  Rachel pushed her covers aside and crawled out of bed. Her body ached, and her muscles felt like limp, wet noodles. With a shaky hand she lifted the window shade. Sure enough, Cuddles was perched on a tree branch outside Rachel’s window.

  As soon as Rachel opened the window, Cuddles leaped into her arms.

  Rachel smiled. It was comforting to hold Cuddles and listen to her purr. Rachel knew Mom didn’t like the cat on her bed, but she couldn’t resist lying down with Cuddles in her arms. After a while, the cat crawled to the bottom of the bed and fell asleep.

  Maybe if I go downstairs and find something to do, I’ll feel better, Rachel thought. She slipped into her robe and slippers then tiptoed out of the room, so she wouldn’t disturb Cuddles.

  When Rachel entered the kitchen, the delicious aroma of chicken soup tickled her nose, and made her stomach rumble.

  “Rachel, what are you doing out of bed?” Mom asked.

  “I thought I should make some valentine hearts—in case I’m well enough to go to school on Friday.”

  Mom shook her head. “You won’t be well enough. You should be back in bed.”

  “Oh, please, Mom. I promise I’ll sit quietly at the table and work on my valentines. If I get tired, I’ll go straight back to bed.”

  “Oh, all right,” Mom finally agreed. “But you won’t be up to going back to school on Friday. Jacob can take the valentines you make for the scholars, and then bring the ones home that they’ve made for you.”

  Rachel found some red and white paper, scissors, glue, and a black marking pen in Mom’s craft drawer. She carried them to the table and sat down. She wouldn’t admit it to Mom, but she was already tired.

  She sat there several minutes, breathing slowly and rubbing her forehead.

  “Does your head hurt?” Mom asked.

  “Just a bit.”

  “Maybe you should go back up to bed and forget the valentines for now.”

  “I’ll be all right.” Rachel picked up the scissors and a piece of red paper; then she cut out a heart.

  Mom went back to stirring the pot of soup. “I think this is done. Would you like a bowl of chicken soup, Rachel?”

  “Jah, I would,” Rachel replied.

  Mom ladled some soup into a bowl and set it on the table. “Be careful not to spill soup on your valentines,” she said.

  “Aren’t you going to have some?” Rachel asked.

  “I was planning to eat lunch after your daed and grandpa get back from town, but the soup smells so good, I think I’ll join you.” Mom ladled some soup into another bowl and started across the room. She was almost to the table when Cuddles streaked into the kitchen and zipped over Mom’s foot. Mom stumbled, bumped into a chair, and—splat!—her bowl of soup splattered all over the table!

  Rachel jumped up. “My valentines—they’re ruined!”

  Mom pointed to Cuddles, who sat on the floor licking some of the spilled soup. “I didn’t let the cat in the house. How do you suppose she got in?”

  “I—I brought her inside,” Rachel admitted. “She was in the tree outside my window, scratching to get in.”

  “Please don’t tell me she was on your bed again.”

  Rachel nodded slowly as her head began to pound, and the room started to spin.

  “Rachel, how many times have I told you—”

  “I—I feel so dizzy.” Rachel reached for the back of the chair, and Mom grabbed her arm.

  “I knew you shouldn’t have gotten up so soon.” Mom guided Rachel toward the steps. “Back to bed with you now.”

  “What about my soggy valentine hearts?”

  “I’ll clean up the mess after I tuck you into bed.”

  Rachel spent the rest of the afternoon feeling sorry for herself. Not only had she disobeyed Mom and let Cuddles sleep on her bed, but now all her valentines were ruined. She wouldn’t have any to send to school with Jacob.

  Tap-tap-tap. Someone knocked on Rachel’s bedroom door.

  “Come in,” she said with a sigh.

  Esther poked her head inside the door. “Would you like some company?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I suppose.”

  Esther sat in the chair by Rachel’s bed. “I went to town this morning and decided to drop by on my way home to see how you feel.”

  Rachel scrunched up her nose. “I feel baremlich.”

  “That’s understandable,” Esther said with a nod. “Everyone feels terrible when they’re grank.”

  “I’m not feeling terrible because I’m sick.” Rachel pushed herself to a sitting position and leaned against the pillows. “I feel terrible because Mom spilled soup on my valentine hearts, and now they’re ruined.” She sniffed. “And I feel terrible because I can’t go to school on Friday.”

  “If you went to school you might expose everyone to the chicken pox,” Esther said.

  “I know, but if I stay home I’ll miss the spelling bee and the Valentine’s Day party.” Tears welled in Rachel’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over.

  Esther patted Rachel’s hand. “You’ll have other spelling bees, and I’m sure Jacob will bring your valentines home.”

  Rachel’s chin quivered. “I wish I could do something to get well quicker.”

  “Just rest in bed, and do everything Mom says. Be patient and you’ll be well before you know it.”

  “But not before Friday.” Rachel nearly choked on the words.

  “You need to relax and put your hope in the Lord, like the Bible says we should do,” Esther said. “Where does it say that?”

  “In Isaiah 40:31, it says: ‘But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.’”

  “I almost fainted when I was in the kitchen,” Rachel said.

  “That’s because you should have been in bed resting. You’re not ready to be up for a long time yet.” Esther gently squeezed Rachel’s arm. “I’m going downstairs to help Mom make some pretty valentine hearts so Jacob can take them to school for you on Friday.”

  Rachel smiled. “Danki, Esther.”

  “Gern gschehne,” Esther replied before she slipped out the door.

  Rachel pulled the covers under her chin. It was nice to have a kind, helpful sister.

  Chapter 11

  Worst Day Ever

  Slow down, Rachel. If you’re not careful, you’ll slip and fall,” Jacob called as Rachel hurried on the snowy path leading to the schoolhouse. “What’s the rush?”

  “I’m anxious to get to school so I can get my valentines.” Rachel turned to face Jacob. “The ones you forgot to bring home for me.”

  Jacob scrunched up his nose. “You should be glad I remembered to take the valentines to school that Mom and Esther made for you to give the others.”

  “Well,” Rachel said, lifting her chin, “that was only because on the day of the party, Mom put them in a plastic bag and handed them to you on your way out the door.”

  Jacob shrugged. “At least they got there.”

  “But I still don’t have my valentines.”

  “You’ll get them when you get to school!” Jacob tromped past Rachel, kicking powdery snow all over her dress. “Hurry up, slowpoke. You’ll make me late.”

  Rachel gritted her teeth. She wondered if Jacob would ever stop making fun of her. When they were both old and gray, would he still tease and call her names?

  “Have you had any luck training Buddy?” Rachel asked, deciding they needed to change the subject.

  Jacob shook his head. “Not yet. I think I may give up on the whistle and try to train Buddy on my own.”

  “I don’t care how you train him, but you’d better think of something before my cat gets hurt.”


  “Buddy hasn’t hurt Cuddles yet, Rachel. I’ve told you before, Buddy just wants to play.”

  “Even if that’s true, I don’t like it when he chases Cuddles, and neither does she!”

  Jacob nudged Rachel’s arm. “You worry too much, little bensel.”

  Ignoring Jacob’s teasing, Rachel trudged on. When she entered the schoolhouse, she was surprised to see that no valentines were inside her desk.

  She glanced around the room. Maybe Orlie or one of the other boys had hidden her valentines. If she’d had time, she would have asked some of the scholars if they knew anything about the valentines. But Elizabeth had already opened her Bible to read the morning scripture.

  When the Bible reading was over, the children stood and repeated the Lord’s Prayer and then sang. As soon as they returned to their seats, Rachel raised her hand. Elizabeth and her helper didn’t seem to notice; they were busy handing out everyone’s arithmetic papers.

  Rachel hoped she could ask about the valentines when Sharon came by her desk, but when Sharon handed Rachel her arithmetic lesson, she hurried up the aisle before Rachel could speak.

  Tap-tap-tap. Rachel tapped her pencil on the edge of her desk and stared at the arithmetic problems. Thanks to the itchy chicken pox, she’d been out of school almost two weeks. Even though she’d done some schoolwork at home, she hadn’t spent much time on arithmetic. She hoped she could do all the problems.

  “Psst …”

  Rachel glanced across the aisle at her cousin Mary.

  “You’d better get your lesson done,” Mary whispered. “If you don’t, you won’t get to go outside for morning recess.”

  Rachel nodded. Mary was right. If she didn’t finish her assignment before ten o’clock, she would probably have to skip recess in order to finish it.

  Rachel picked up her pencil again. Between every problem she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was hard to be patient when she wanted to see her valentines.

  Rachel finished the last problem just as Elizabeth announced that it was time to turn in their papers. Rachel handed her arithmetic paper to Sharon. She was getting ready to ask about her valentines when Sharon hurried off.