Look Out, Lancaster County Page 4

Bawk! Bawk! The hen hopped into the basket and fluffed up her feathers like she belonged there.

  “That is not your nest,” Rachel scolded, nudging the chicken with the toe of her sneaker. Usually Rachel came out to the coop in her bare feet, but she’d had a bath last night and didn’t want to get anything grimy or slimy between her toes.

  With another blaring squawk, the hen hopped out of the basket and waddled to the other side of the coop. Rachel hurried down the line, removing each hen from its nest and filling her basket with their bulky brown eggs. When she was done, she left the coop and headed across the yard toward the house.

  Rachel had only gone as far as the clothesline when she noticed a couple of fat green frogs hopping along the edge of the grass near the garden.

  If I could take the two of them with me, I could race them after church, she thought.

  Rachel set the basket of eggs on the ground and ran to the barn for a small box. When she returned, the frogs were gone. She walked up and down the garden rows and finally found them under the leaves of a strawberry plant.

  Rachel dropped to her knees, inched forward, and reached out her hand. One frog hopped to the left. The other frog hopped to the right. She gritted her teeth, determined to catch both of those leaping frogs.

  Rachel crawled slowly until she spotted one of the frogs again. She lifted her hand, held her breath—then, quick as wink, she grabbed it. The other frog hopped out of the garden, so Rachel hurried and put the first frog in the box. Then she snapped the cardboard flaps down fast. Next, Rachel followed the second frog as it hopped across the grass and into one of Mom’s flower beds. It took her three tries to catch it, as the frog hopped away every time her hand came near, but she finally captured the critter and put it in the box along with its friend.

  Rachel ran to the buggy, which had already been hitched to old Tom. She opened the back door and slipped the box under the backseat.

  Remembering the eggs she’d been sent to gather, Rachel rushed back to the spot where she had left the basket. She bent over to pick it up and had taken only a few steps when she heard a shrill, Honk! Honk!

  Rachel whirled around and gasped when she saw Clara the goose heading straight for her. Rachel knew it wasn’t right to hate any animal, but she certainly didn’t like Clara—at all. And Clara didn’t like her. Any time Clara saw Rachel, she made a beeline for her. If Clara caught up with Rachel, she’d nip at Rachel, a goose’s way of biting. Goose bites, Rachel had learned, hurt very much.

  “Shoo! Shoo!” Rachel cried. She clung to the basket with one hand and waved her other hand at the honking bird, but Clara kept coming.

  Rachel screamed and ran for the house as fast as she could. She was almost to the porch when she felt Clara’s nip! nip! on the backs of her legs.

  “Ouch!” Tears stung Rachel’s eyes as she tried to hop out of the goose’s reach. She grabbed the railing and pulled herself forward. Missing the first step, she tripped and fell.

  When Rachel picked herself up she noticed the basket of eggs. “Oh, no, they’re all broken, and now I’m a mess!” Runny, yellow yolks mixed with pieces of shell and the slimy white part of the eggs clung to the front of her apron. She whirled around, prepared to give Clara the chase of her life, but the goose was gone.

  “Always trouble somewhere,” Rachel grumbled, as she trudged into the house. She wasn’t looking forward to telling her mother that they would have no more eggs for breakfast.

  To Rachel’s surprise, Mom didn’t scold her about the broken eggs. She only said, “I told your daed he should get rid of that mean old goose. One of these days, she’ll end up in my stewing pot.” Then Mom said she would just use the eggs she already had and might fix a batch of oatmeal to go with them.

  “Guess I’d better go upstairs and change into my church dress,” Rachel said.

  Mom nodded. “I’ll need to tend those wounds the goose put on your legs, too.”

  “I can do it.” Rachel felt better now that she was safely away from Clara.

  An hour later, the Yoder family pulled into the Millers’ yard. Rachel noticed several other Amish buggies lined up next to Howard Miller’s barn. She leaned close to Jacob and whispered, “I hope Cousin Mary is here today. I can’t wait to tell her about Cuddles.”

  Jacob tugged on Rachel’s sleeve. “I still say that’s a dumb name for a cat.”

  She jerked her arm away. “And I say it’s not.” She hardly noticed that their buggy had stopped.

  “It’s a bensel name!” Jacob taunted.

  “You’re a bensel!” Rachel accused, her voice rising.

  “Rachel!” Pap’s voice interrupted the squabble.

  Rachel looked at her parents’ horrified faces. Then she realized Pap had parked their buggy next to Bishop Wagler’s buggy. Bishop Wagler was the head minister of their church, and she always felt a little nervous when he was around.

  The bishop had stepped to their buggy to greet Pap, and she wondered if he’d heard her and Jacob arguing. He pulled his fingers through the ends of his long, gray beard and greeted Pap in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  Pap turned to respond to him and climbed down from the buggy, but Mom sat there, frowning at Rachel. Rachel gulped. She knew Mom felt misbehaving in public was one of the worst things a child could do. To behave badly in front of the minister was even worse.

  “You’re going to get it now!” Jacob whispered to her as they climbed out of the buggy.

  “But you started it!” she hissed at him.

  “Um-hmm.” Rachel heard her mother clear her voice as a warning.

  As soon as Pap had unhitched the horse and put it in the Millers’ corral with the other horses, he, Henry, and Jacob joined other men and boys under a leafy maple tree. Mom and Esther joined the women, who stood on the front porch visiting. Rachel grabbed her frog box and hurried to look for her cousin. By the time she found Mary standing near the barn, she had no time to tell Mary about the frog race. Most of the people were moving indoors so church could begin.

  Rachel put the box with the frogs on the Millers’ porch, next to the kitchen. Then she hurried into the living room to sit on a long wooden bench on the women’s side of the room. Mom and Esther sat near Mary’s mother, Irma, and Rachel and Mary sat on a bench ahead of them with some other girls their age. Pap, Henry, and Jacob took their seats on the men’s side of the room.

  Deacon Byler passed out the hymnals. While the congregation sang, the bishop and the other two ministers left the room. Rachel knew they always left the service during this time to discuss church business and decide who would preach the first sermon. Rachel hoped Bishop Wagler hadn’t heard her and Jacob arguing, and she worried that Mom would punish her when they got home. Of course, Jacob had been in on the argument, so he should be punished, too.

  Rachel shot a glance at her mother. Mom smiled and sang with all her heart. Tears threatened to squeeze from Rachel’s eyes. If the bishop said anything to Mom or Pap about how disagreeable Rachel was, Rachel knew her parents would feel a terrible shame.

  She didn’t know any other children who seemed to get into as much trouble as she did!

  When the church leaders returned, the singing ended. Rachel leaned close to Mary and whispered, “I have some news to tell you.”

  “Really, what is it?”

  “I got a special surprise Friday night. And that’s not all. Today I brought along a couple of—”

  “Um-hmm.” Rachel heard Mom quietly clearing her throat.

  When Rachel looked over her shoulder, she saw Mom put a finger to her lips and give Rachel a stern look over the top of her glasses. “Shh …”

  Rachel knew she was expected to be quiet during church, but it was so hard to sit still and not talk. She was already in trouble for squabbling with Jacob in front of the bishop, so she knew she’d better do as Mom said.

  Halfway through the service, Anna Miller slipped out of the room. She quickly returned with a platter of dried apple pieces. She gave some to the children so they
could sit through the rest of the service without getting too hungry.

  Rachel ate hers eagerly, thinking about the noon meal and the time of fellowship afterward. She had just finished the last bite when she heard a strange noise.

  Ribbet! Ribbet!

  Rachel looked down. Oh, no! One of the frogs leaped along the floor under the bench in front of her. She held her breath, praying no one would notice. She hoped the frog might hop toward her so she could capture it.

  The sermon had just ended, and the people were about to sing a closing hymn, when the frog jumped with all its might. It landed in the lap of Sarah King, an elderly woman sitting directly in front of Rachel.

  “Ahhhh!” Sarah screeched. She jumped off her bench, knocking the frog to the floor. It sat dazed for a moment. Then it hopped in one direction and then another.

  Jacob jumped up and dashed across the aisle. He tried to capture the frog, but the sly old critter kept hopping away. Martin Miller joined the chase as shrieks and hollers came from all sides of the room. But the frog continued to jump, and the boys, wearing determined expressions, kept darting after it.

  Rachel gasped when the frog landed in ten-year-old Elsie Byler’s lap. Elsie screamed and jumped up. Everyone sitting on her bench jumped up, too.

  Jacob raced across the room, took a flying leap, missed the frog, and knocked over the bench.

  Ribbet! Ribbet! The frog leaped again; this time Jacob grabbed it, but it leaped out of his hands and landed on seven-year-old Aaron King’s shoulder. Then before anyone could move, it hopped down the boy’s shirt.

  Aaron hollered and raced around the room as if he’d been stung by a bee. Aaron’s mother reached out as her son ran by. She pulled the back of his shirt out of his trousers. The frog sailed through the air, landing near the front door.

  Rachel held her breath and gnawed on a fingernail as Bishop Wagler moved to the front door, grasped the handle, and jerked it open. As though the frog knew who was in charge, it jumped right out the door. Jacob and Martin put the bench back in place. Everyone sat down, and the singing started again as if nothing unusual had happened.

  When church ended, the men and boys put their black felt hats on their heads and filed out of the house. Next, the younger girls left. The women and older girls went to the kitchen to prepare the meal. Rachel started for the door, but Mom grasped her hand. “Do you know anything about that frog?” she asked, staring hard at Rachel.

  Rachel nodded. She bit her lips so she wouldn’t smile. Now that it was over, she realized it had been funny to see the frog land in Sarah King’s and Elsie Byler’s laps and down Aaron King’s shirt. But she was sure her mother didn’t share those feelings.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Rachel said. “I wanted to have a frog race this afternoon, and I didn’t think the frogs would get out of the box.”

  “Frogs?” Mom repeated.

  Ribbet! Ribbet!

  Mom turned to look at the box sitting on the utility porch. “How many more frogs did you bring, Rachel?”

  “Just one.” Rachel hurried to the box and picked it up. “I’ll take this outside right away.”

  Mom nodded. “We’ll talk about this little escapade when we get home.” As Mom turned and walked away, Rachel heard her mutter, “Always trouble somewhere!”

  Rachel tried to think of some way to get out of punishment, but she figured nothing would help her this time. She had been lucky to get off without a bletsching [spanking] this morning after she’d ruined the eggs. And she was certainly fortunate that the frogs had apparently made her mother forget about Bishop Wagler hearing her ugly words.

  “You brought the frogs, didn’t you?” Mary asked when Rachel stepped outside.

  Rachel nodded. “I thought it would be fun to have a race with them after church.”

  “Are you in big trouble? Do you think you’ll get a spanking?” Mary asked.

  “Maybe. Or I might have extra chores to do.” Rachel set the box on the ground, lifted the lid, and watched frog number two hop away.

  Mary flopped onto the grass under a willow tree. Rachel dropped beside her. “It would be nice to have church out here where it’s cooler, don’t you think?” her cousin asked.

  “Jah, and those benches can get pretty hard after a while,” Rachel agreed.

  “I know, but we couldn’t have church outside during the winter.”

  Rachel snatched a blade of grass and bit off the end. At least it was better than chewing her nails. “You’ll never guess what I got Friday night,” she said, thinking a different subject would make her feel better. “What?”

  “Guess.”

  “Did your mamm make you a new dress?”

  Rachel shook her head. “She probably won’t do that until right before school starts again.”

  Mary’s pale eyebrows wiggled together, and she rubbed her chin. “Hmm … Did you get some licorice? I know that’s your favorite candy.”

  “That’s not it, either. Gebscht uff? [Do you give up?]”

  Her cousin nodded. “Jah, I give up. What did you get?”

  “A bussli.”

  “That’s great. Now our two cats can play together,” Mary said excitedly. “Where did you get the kitten? What’s its name?”

  Rachel explained about being trapped in the Millers’ root cellar and how Missy and her kittens had kept her company. She told Mary that Rudy had brought Cuddles over as a surprise gift from Howard Miller.

  “You must have been scared down there in that cellar,” Mary said, her eyes opening wide.

  Rachel was about to tell her how horrible it had been, but the girls were called to join the women for their noon meal.

  Rachel sat between her mother and sister at a long picnic table. Mary sat across from Rachel, between her own mother and sister. The meal included hot bean soup, ham-and-cheese sandwiches, and lots of cold milk to drink. For dessert, Anna Miller served apple and cherry pie. Rachel ate until she couldn’t take another bite. Then she patted her stomach and looked at the clear, blue sky. The sun felt warm against her face, and for the moment she forgot about the mean goose, broken eggs, and hopping frogs that had nearly ruined her day. She sighed as clouds covered the warm sun. As hard as she tried to steer clear of trouble, trouble always seemed to find her.

  Just then, a drop of water splattered on Rachel’s nose. It was followed by another and another. “Oh no, it’s starting to rain!” she moaned.

  What was the use of school being out if it was going to rain all summer? Rachel sighed. Even the weather was causing trouble in her life!

  Chapter 5

  Where Is Summer?

  Flinging the back door open wide, Rachel rushed into the kitchen. “It’s raining again! Can you believe it, Mom? How many more days of rain are we gonna have?” She stood inside the door, dripping wet and frowning. Ever since the frog episode during church, she’d had extra chores to do, and doing them in the rain wasn’t much fun.

  Mom was cutting quilting material at the kitchen table, but she looked at Rachel and smiled. “Rain is good for the garden, and the crops in the fields need it, as well.”

  “But, Mom, where is summer? All we’ve had for a couple of weeks now is rain, rain, rain.”

  “Sunshine will come again soon,” her mother answered. “Now, you’re dripping water all over my clean floor, and if you don’t get out of that wet dress soon, you’ll likely catch a cold.”

  Rachel shrugged and headed for the stairs. What was the use in complaining to Mom? No one in her family seemed to understand how she felt about anything. Rachel wondered if her mother ever remembered what it was like to be young.

  When Rachel entered her room, she found Cuddles lying at the foot of her bed. She hurried across the room and shook her finger in the kitten’s face. “You know what Mom would say if she caught you napping on my bed. She doesn’t want you in the house, much less up on the furniture. And you’d get me in big trouble.”

  Rachel stroked the kitten’s soft, silky head. “Guess I can’t really
blame you for sneaking in. The weather’s too awful to be doing anything but sleeping on a soft, warm bed.”

  Cuddles responded with a lazy stretch and a faint meow. Then she began to purr.

  Rachel slipped out of her wet clothes and into a clean dress and hurried to the window. Pressing her nose against the glass, she groaned. “Sure wish I could be at the creek today instead of cooped up in this stuffy old house. It’s supposed to be summer, and I’m bored. There must be something fun I can do.”

  The kitten’s loud purr turned to a soft rumble, but she didn’t open her eyes.

  A knock sounded on Rachel’s bedroom door, and she called out, “Come in!”

  The door squeaked open, and Jacob poked his head inside. “Mom went out to the barn to check on the calf that was born yesterday. She wants you to help Esther start supper.” When he spotted Cuddles on Rachel’s bed, he shook his head and said, “You’d better put that cat outside. You know Mom doesn’t like—”

  “I know, I know,” Rachel interrupted. “But it’s raining, and it’s not fair to make my sweet little bussli stay outdoors in this awful weather.” She sat on the bed beside Cuddles, just in case her brother decided to haul the kitten outside.

  “Aw, you’re silly. Animals don’t mind the rain,” Jacob said with a grunt.

  “They do so,” Rachel argued. “The cows always head straight for the barn whenever it rains. Even the chickens have the good sense to stay in their coop until the sun comes out.”

  Jacob waved his hand like he was shooing away a pesky fly. “Well, if Mom catches that cat on your bed, you’ll be in big trouble.”

  “You’re not going to tell, are you?” Rachel figured she had enough problems with the extra chores she’d been assigned.

  “Naw, but you’d better hurry and get downstairs before Mom comes back inside and wonders why you’re not helping Esther.”

  “Danki [Thank you], Jacob.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Rachel was a bit surprised that Jacob was being so nice. It seemed like he usually liked to see her get in trouble. She stroked Cuddles’s paw and headed downstairs to help her sister.