Читать книгу An Amish Christmas - Patricia Davids - Страница 11

Grabbing a knife from the drawer beside the sink, John walked slowly to the doorway of the sitting room and scoped it out. It was empty.

Was he imagining things now? He started to turn away, but another sound stopped him. He focused on the sofa just as the face of a little girl peeked over the back. The moment she saw him watching she ducked down again.

Relief made him light-headed. Karen had mentioned she had a sister. It seemed one Imhoff was too curious about him to wait until morning. He said, “I see you.”

“No, you don’t,” came her reply.

Feeling foolish, he laid the knife on the table, then he crossed the sitting room and bent over the sofa. Looking down, he saw her huddled into a little ball. “Okay, now I see you.”

Wearing a dark blue dress with a white apron and a white bonnet identical to her older sister’s she looked like a miniature Karen. She nodded and grinned. “Ja, now you see me.”

Scrambling to her feet, she sidestepped to the other end of the sofa. “You are my dead man. I saw you in the ditch. Everyone said I made it up, but I didn’t.”

“I was in the ditch, but I wasn’t dead.”

She moved around the room trailing her fingers along the furniture. “I know. God didn’t want you, either. We are just alike.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m not sure we are.”

“It’s true,” she insisted. “This house belonged to my grossmammi.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

She cocked her head sideways. “Really? It means grandmother. These are her things, but God wanted her in heaven, and she had to leave her things here.”

John sat on the sofa. “Do you think your grandmother will mind that I’m using them?”

She shook her head. “She liked it when people came to visit.”

He said, “My name is John. What’s your name?”

“Anna.”

“It’s nice to meet you Anna. What did you mean when you said we are the same?”

“God didn’t want me to go to heaven the day my mother died. Seth, Carol and Liz got to go to Heaven with Mama, but God didn’t want me. And he didn’t want you. Why do you think that is?”

“I have no idea.”

She came to stand in front of him. Tipping her head to one side, she said, “Papa says it is because God has something special for me to do here on earth. I don’t think it’s fair, do you?”

John stared at his toes in hopes that an appropriate answer would appear. None did. He wasn’t up to discussing the meaning of life with this odd child. “I think maybe you should talk to your dad or Karen about it.”

“Okay. Are you going to eat all that chicken?”

“I was, but I’m willing to share.”

Spinning around she bounced toward the kitchen and settled in one of the chairs. He followed her and took a seat at the head of the table. Uncovering the plate, he pushed it toward her. “I’ll let you choose the piece you want.”

“I like the leg, but you are the guest.”

“That makes it easy because I like the thigh.”

He watched her bite into his supper. “Anna, can I ask you a few questions?”

She considered his request for a moment then nodded. “Okay.”

“What’s with the bonnets that you and your sister wear?”

Reaching up to touch her head, she asked, “You mean our prayer kapp?”

“Yeah, why do you wear them? I know you do because you are Amish, but why?”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you joshing me?”

“No.”

“It says in the Bible that I should cover my head when I pray. I should pray all the time so I wear this all the time. Sometimes I forget to pray, but Karen reminds me. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why were you in our ditch?”

“I don’t remember what I was doing there. I don’t remember anything that happened to me before you saw me. John Doe isn’t even my real name. It’s a name they gave me because I can’t remember my own.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Now you are joshing me?”

Shaking his head, he smiled and said, “I wish I were.”

The outside door opened and a teenage boy entered. He frowned at Anna. “You should not be here.”

She rolled her eyes. “Neither should you.”

“She’s not causing any trouble,” John said in defense of his visitor.

The boy ignored him. “Come now or I will tell Dat.”

Anna finished her chicken and licked her fingers. “This is my brother, Jacob. He says having an Englischer stay here will get us all in trouble with the bishop.”

John looked from Anna to her brother. “Is this true? Will my being here cause trouble?”

Jacob came into the room and took Anna by the hand. Looking at John he said, “You should leave this place.”

Turning around, Jacob left, taking his little sister with him.

It seemed getting to know the Imhoff family was going to be more difficult than John had anticipated.

Karen was cooking breakfast when John knocked at the door the following morning. She hadn’t had to send one of the children to wake him. After bidding him enter, she turned back to the stove and smiled as she stirred the frying potatoes. John was an early riser. That was one more thing he could add to his list about himself.

She moved the skillet off the heat. “Take a seat, Mr. Doe.”

He said, “Please call me John.”

Noah and Anna were already at the table sitting opposite each other but Eli and Jacob had not yet come in from the milking. Anna pointed to the chair opposite her. “Sit by Noah, John.”

He settled himself into the chair she indicated and looked at the boy beside him. “You must be Noah.”

Karen glanced over her shoulder to see Noah fairly bursting with curiosity. “Ja, I am Noah. Is it true you can’t remember your name? Not even where you came from? Do you remember that you’re English or did someone tell you? How did you know how to talk? If you need to know how to use a knife and fork I can show you.”

Karen caught John’s eye and said, “I warned you.”

While John patiently answered Noah’s rapid-fire questions, Karen pulled her biscuits from the oven. Dumping them into a woven basket, she set it on the table in front of everyone.

Just then the front door opened. Her father and Jacob came in. After washing up, they took their places at the table. Karen sat down opposite John. Everyone folded their hands. Silently her father gave a blessing over the meal. He signaled he had finished by clearing his throat, then giving a brief nod to Karen. She began passing food down the table.

Eli said, “Guder mariye, Mr. Doe.”

“Good morning, sir.” John took a biscuit and watched with a bemused expression as the children dived into their food. By the time the plate of scrambled eggs reached him only a tablespoon’s worth remained.

Eli spoke to Karen. “William Yoder wants me to look at one of his draft horses this afternoon. His gelding has a split hoof. He wants my opinion on which treatment to try.”

She asked, “Do you need me to drive you?”

Jacob perked up with interest. “Can I go with you, Papa?”

Karen’s spoke quickly, “You have school today.” Jacob was growing up fast, but she wasn’t ready for him to take on their father’s tough and sometimes dangerous profession before it was necessary.

Sitting back in his chair, Jacob said, “I don’t see why I have to go to school now. Papa needs me at home to help him with the horses.”

“You will be out of school soon enough,” Karen said.

“A few more months won’t do you any harm.”

Jacob made a sour face. “Ken Yoder has already left school. He is only two months older than me. I don’t need any more schooling. I want to work with you, Papa. I want to be a farrier.”

John said, “A farrier needs an education, too.”

Karen looked at him in surprise. It was becoming clear he did know a thing or two about horses.

“What do you know about it?” Jacob scowled at their guest.

“Jacob.” Eli’s firm tone rebuked his son.

Bowing his head, Jacob mumbled, “Forgive me.”

Spreading jam on a piping-hot biscuit, John said, “If the horse has a turned foot, a farrier needs a shoe to correct it for him. You would have to know how many degrees the foot was off true in order to make a shoe that brings it up to level. How thick does the shoe need to be to give such an angle? These things you learn in school.”

Anna shook her head. “We don’t learn horseshoeing in school. We learn how to read and write, how to speak English and how to do our sums.”

Eli smiled at her. “And did you finish your sums last night?”

Her bright face clouded over. “No, Papa.”

“And why not?” Karen asked, surprised to hear Anna had neglected her homework.

“Because I went to visit John Doe.”

John said, “I would have sent her back if I had known. She kept me company while I ate.”

Jacob glared at John and then spoke to Karen. “See. No goot can come of having him stay here.”

“Hush Jacob, this is not how we treat our guests,” Karen said.

Pushing back from the table, Jacob got up. “The Englischer will only bring trouble. You will see.”

He grabbed his coat and hat and headed outside, letting the door slam behind him. Eli rose, motioning to Karen to stay seated. “I will talk to the boy.”

Slipping his coat over his sling, he followed Jacob outside. Embarrassed by her brother’s display, Karen glanced at John.

He gave her a tight smile and said, “I’m sorry I upset him.”

“It’s not you.” She knew what troubled her brother and her heart ached for him.

Noah spoke around a mouthful of egg. “Jacob doesn’t like the English ever since the accident.”

Puzzled, John asked, “What accident?”

“The accident that killed our mother, brother and sisters,” Karen explained. “That Englischer was drunk. He hit their buggy doing like seventy miles an hour,” Noah added dramatically.

Karen was thankful Noah had not been there that day. It had been she and Jacob who came upon the terrible carnage.

Karen reached across the table to grasp Noah and Anna’s hands. “We have forgiven him as God has asked us to do.”

Nodding solemnly, Noah agreed. “We have.”

Anna shook her head. “I don’t think Jacob has.”

Karen squeezed her hand. “We will pray Jacob finds forgiveness in his heart.”

John asked, “What happened to the driver?”

Letting go of her siblings, Karen folded her hands in her lap. “He had barely a scratch.”

Frowning slightly, John looked from the children to Karen. “How do you do that? How do you forgive someone who has done something so terrible?”

“It is our way,” Karen replied. Closing her eyes, she sought the peace that forgiveness always brought her.