Читать книгу His Amish Teacher - Patricia Davids - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Early the next morning, Lillian rounded the sharp bend in the road and was surprised to see Debra sitting on the school steps. The sun was barely up in the east. A thin mist hugged the river and low places. Lillian knew it would burn off quickly when the sun rose in the sky.

The sight of the young woman brought back the memory of Lillian’s quarrel with Timothy. Her family’s hurried departure as well as her false pride had kept her from seeking him out yesterday. He deserved an apology. After school, she would make a point to seek him out. She cherished his friendship and didn’t want to lose it.

“Good morning,” Deborah called out cheerfully as she waved.

“Good morning. You certainly arrived early enough.”

“I was determined to be on time this morning. I parked my car beside that empty shed over there. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine. In poor weather I drive my buggy and park inside, but as you can see, I walked today.”

“How far away do you live?”

“Not far. Two and a half miles.”

“I wouldn’t like to hike that far for my job. I spent some time doing research last night that I should have done before coming here. I’m afraid I discovered more questions than answers. Is it true that Amish children don’t go to school beyond the eighth grade?”

Lillian climbed the steps and held the door open for Debra. “It is true.”

“Even you, a teacher?”

“You must find that shocking. We believe that beyond elementary school, vocational training is sufficient for Amish youth. Some cases of higher education are permitted. I earned my GED and took some college courses by correspondence before I was baptized into the faith. Admittedly, I’m something of an exception. Amish teachers rarely have more education than their students, but I knew I was preparing for a lifetime vocation.”

“I can certainly understand that. What is the curriculum like here?”

“I teach the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic just as the majority of public schools did over a century ago. In addition, I teach German.” Lillian laid her books and papers on her desk.

“I’m aware that in the case of Wisconsin versus Yoder in 1972, the United States Supreme Court ruled that Amish children could end their formal schooling at the age of fourteen. But getting a good education is so important in this day and age. I’m not sure I see how your children can prosper without it.”

Picking up an eraser, Lillian began to wipe away her class assignments from the day before. “Education must prepare our children to be productive members of our community, not productive members of the greater world. I teach English because it is the language of our neighbors and of our commerce. A man cannot sell milk or goods if he doesn’t understand what his customer is saying. I teach German because we use the Bible written in that language just as our ancestors did in our church services. My students also learn about health and basic science, although not all Amish schools are as progressive as we are. Each school board decides what is important and what is to be taught. In some areas of education, you may find us lacking, but we do what is best for our children and our way of life.

“I certainly didn’t learn a new language in grade school.”

Lillian realized how puffed up she must sound and turned to face Debra. “And I am guilty of pride. Please forgive me for lecturing you.”

“As I have said before, I enjoy learning new things. Thank you for the lesson and you are forgiven if you will forgive my ignorance and not take offense at my many questions.”

“That is a deal. We Amish are free to read and study ways to improve our lives as long as they do not go against the teaching of our church. We believe higher education puts our children at risk of exposure to worldly behaviors that we do not condone.”

“But what about doctors and nurses? Don’t the Amish want their own people in such professions?”

“There is a need for doctors and nurses, we don’t deny that. We are grateful for the men and women who seek to serve mankind in such a fashion, but the core of our faith is that we must be separate from the world. In it, but not a part of it. We must forsake all self-interest and humbly submit to the authority of the church. To us, this is the only way to be righteous in the sight of God. Any display of pride is a sin. If we take pride in being Amish, that, too, is a sin.”

“I respect your right to believe as you wish, but I can’t say that I understand it.”

Lillian smiled. “I won’t hold that against you.”

She had never met anyone as forthright as Debra. The two previous health workers who had come to the school had been all business and not talkative in the least.

The sound of childish chatter outside signaled the arrival of her first students. Most were able to walk to the school, but a few were delivered to her doorstep in buggies driven by their parents or older siblings.

Debra glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five minutes until eight. “I need a quiet place for the hearing tests later today. Where do you suggest?”

“The cloakroom, or we have a basement if you’d like to see it.”

“I think the cloakroom will work.”

Lillian helped Debra move an unused desk and chair into the room. Outside, the sounds of children at play grew louder. The swings and the merry-go-round were favorite places for the students to play before school started.

Debra moved to the window. “They were so quiet yesterday, but they sound loud and rambunctious now. Maybe I should use the basement.”

“Noise won’t be a problem.” Lillian went to the front steps.

Hannah ran up to her. “Teacher, Mamm brought me to school in our new pony cart. Isn’t it pretty? That’s our new pony. His name is Hank.”

Lillian looked toward the road. Mary Bowman waved from the seat of a small two-wheeled wooden cart painted sky blue. A small black pony with a snip of white on his nose tossed his thick black mane. Lillian returned Mary’s wave and turned to Hannah. “It’s a very nice cart, and he looks like a fine pony.”

“I made these for you.” Hannah thrust a shoe box toward Lillian.

“How kind. What can it be?” Lillian’s heart expanded with joy as she lifted the box to her ear and shook it. The rattle and aroma of gingersnaps gave her a hint. She peeked inside the lid. “Did you make these all by yourself? They look scrumptious.”

“Grossmammi Ana helped me.”

Lillian laid the box aside. “Please thank your grandmother Ana for me.”

“We have something for you, too.” Karen and Carla Beachy, third-grade twins, came up beside Hannah. They had each drawn a picture of their favorite cow named Willow. Lillian took the pictures and admired them. “These are lovely. I shall put them on the wall for everyone to enjoy.”

“Guder mariye, Teacher.” Carl Mast rushed up with a big grin.

“It is a beautiful morning.” This was truly her favorite part of the day. More of her children greeted her and shared the news from home and she realized once again how truly blessed she was.

She rang the bell. Her students who were still playing outside immediately stopped what they were doing and filed quietly into the schoolhouse. They came in, put away their lunches and took their seats. Even Abe and Gabriel were quiet this morning.

Lillian stood in front of her desk. “Good morning, scholars.”

“Good morning, Teacher,” they said in unison.

“As you can see, Nurse Merrick has returned to finish your health screenings. You are to go with her when it is your turn.”

Lillian moved to the blackboard that covered the front wall of the school and wrote out the date and the arithmetic assignments for each of the classes. When she finished, she picked up her Bible. Each day she chose a passage to read from the Old or the New Testament. This morning she chose 2 Corinthians 6. After the reading, her students rose, clasped their hands together and repeated the Lord’s Prayer in unison.

Lillian picked up her copy of Unpartheyisches Gesang-Buch, their German songbook, from the corner of her desk. Singing was a normal part of each school day. Without being told, the children filed to the front of the room and lined up in their assigned places. She chose two English songs out of respect to their guest and one German hymn. Gabriel, the best singer in the school, began the hymn. The other children’s voices rose together in unison as they sang without musical accompaniment. When the songs were finished, they all returned to their seats.

Susan Yoder began handing out readers to the three lower grades. The older students took out their arithmetic workbooks. All the children knew what was expected of them, and they did it without instructions. After Susan finished handing out the readers, she went with Debra to translate for the youngest ones being tested.

By ten o’clock, it was time for recess. Debra emerged from the cloakroom as the children surged around her to hurry outside. She came to the open door, where Lillian stood watching her charges. “I have to say that I’m amazed by how well behaved your students are. I hope every school I visit will be this cooperative.”

Lillian smiled at her. “Every Amish school will be.”

By early afternoon, the day had become hot enough that Lillian opened a window near her desk. A gust of breeze blew in and carried the arid smell of smoke into the schoolroom. Lillian looked up from the paper she was grading and glanced outside. A large cornfield stood across the road from the school. The tall pale tan stalks hadn’t yet been harvested and their dry leaves crackled in the brisk wind. She saw a thin column of smoke rising from the far end of the field near the river.

Frowning, she rose from her chair and moved toward the front door. Had Mr. Hanson decided to burn his trash today? The country was under an open burning ban because of the drought, but not everyone complied with the rule.

On the porch, Lillian shaded her eyes and looked south. Mr. Hanson’s cornfield curved around the building on three sides like a wide horseshoe. A swirl of wind picked up fallen leaves from beneath the trees by the road and added them to the large pile that had accumulated beside the porch. Unease crept up Lillian’s spine.

The school, situated on a small hillock, was backed by a taller rise with a thick stand of woods that ended in a sheer bluff above the river. To the north, a high wooded ridge separated the school from the collection of farms beyond that were also located inside the bend of the river. The road in front of the school made a loop through the area that was mainly Amish farms. The covered bridge at Bowmans Crossing was the only way in and out.

Susan came outside and stood beside Lillian. “Do you smell smoke?”

“It’s coming from Mr. Hanson’s farmstead.”

“Surely he can see the wind is too strong and in the wrong direction for burning today.”

A huge explosion rocked the quiet afternoon, startling Lillian and making Susan shriek. Flames and black smoke shot skyward from the Hansons’ farm. Lillian watched in shock as flaming debris flew high into the air.

Susan gripped Lillian’s arm. “What was that?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps a gasoline tank.” The noise of excited children’s voices rose inside the school.

“Should I run to the phone shack and call 9-1-1?” Susan asked, poised to dash away. The community telephone booth was a hundred yards down the road. A car went speeding past the school. Lillian recognized it as the one that belonged to Davey Mast. Was he headed for the phone booth to call for help? She had no way of knowing.

“Miss Merrick has a cell phone. We’ll use that.”

Lillian hurried Susan back inside. “Remain in your seats, children. There has been an explosion at the Hanson Farm across the way. Miss Merrick, would you be kind enough to notify 9-1-1? I want to make sure help is on the way.”

“Of course.” She pulled out her cell phone.

A gust of wind-driven smoke billowed in through the open window. Several children started coughing. Lillian motioned to Gabriel. “Shut the window, please.”

Debra Merrick came over with the phone in her hand. “The local fire department has been alerted.”

Was Timothy on call today? Even if he wasn’t, he was sure to be among the people who would rush to help the Hansons.

Abe and Gabriel were at the windows looking out. Gabriel turned to her. “Should we go see if we can help?”

It wasn’t a bad suggestion. Lillian chewed her lower lip. Perhaps she should send several of the older boys.

“Teacher. The fire is coming this way.” The fear in Abe’s voice drew her quickly to the window.

A wall of flames spewing dense smoke was spreading into the cornfield. The broad tongues of fire bent low and surged forward with each gust of the wind. Behind it, she could see the fire had spread into the trees along the river near the bridge. The only thing between the school and the flames was a narrow road. Would the fire be able to jump it? There wasn’t much fuel for the blaze in their short lawn, but the building itself was wooden. There was plenty of fuel in the woods behind the school. Would they be safe here? Even as the question crossed her mind, a burning leaf of corn spiraled down from the sky and landed in the center of the road.

No. They weren’t safe. The wind was too strong.

“We could go through the woods behind the school and down to the river,” Gabriel suggested.

Lillian assessed the possible escape routes. The hill was steep and densely wooded terrain. Getting up and over it and down to the river would take time. “The fire is already spreading through the woods along the river. With so much wind, it could get in front of us. I don’t think we should chance it. The young ones won’t be able to move fast enough.”

Debra moved to stand beside Lillian. “I can take some of the children in my car and drive out of here.”

Lillian considered the idea. The sun was almost blotted out by the dense billowing clouds of smoke, but it was easy to see the wall of flames growing closer. Even with the windows closed, the smell of smoke was overwhelming.

“The only way out of this area is back across the bridge. The road only leads to other farms and it curves back and forth in the woods as it goes over the ridge. You might become trapped. Nee, I will keep all the children here. You are free to go if you wish.”

“I’m staying with you and the kids.”

“Danki.”

Lillian turned to the class and spoke in Pennsylvania Deitsch so they could all understand her. “Children, you must listen to me very carefully and do what I say without question. There is a fire heading this way. I want you seventh-and eighth-grade boys to wet your handkerchiefs from the water can. Use them to cover your noses and mouths. If you don’t have one, borrow one. Get whatever you can find that will hold water and start throwing it on the school building outside. Use the water from the horse tank and make a bucket brigade from the pump. Wet the roof as well as you can. Soak the area around our propane tank, too. Be quick and come back inside when I ring the bell. Each of you choose a partner and don’t get separated from that person. Gabriel, you’re in charge. Go.”

Eight boys scrambled to her desk for water and were soon out the door. She turned to the remaining children and prayed she was making the right decision. “I want the rest of you to file down quietly into the basement. Each student in the older grades will take the hand of one younger child and lead everyone downstairs. Susan, take them all into the coal cellar and check to see that you can open the outside doors. They haven’t been used in years.”

The school board had taken out the coal stove and installed a new propane furnace four years earlier, but the coal storage area remained. The cavelike structure jutted out from the side of the basement, so the building wasn’t directly over it. It had a thick wooden door they could close off to the basement. The curved walls and roof of the cellar were hand-hewn stone and covered with earth. It was fireproof. They could escape through the outside chute doors if the school building caught fire.

Lillian turned to Debra. “Go with Susan. You’ll be safe underground. Use your phone to tell the fire department what we’re doing first, then help Susan keep the children calm.”

“Are you sure this is wise?” Debra stared at her with wide fear-filled eyes.

“The firefighters will make getting here a priority,” she said with absolute confidence. The closest fire station was across the river about a mile from Bowmans Crossing. One covered wooden bridge stood between them. Had the fire reached it already? Were they cut off? Only God knew, but Timothy and the Bowman family would move heaven and earth to save the children even if they had to swim the river. Of that she was certain. “Go downstairs, Debra. You’ll be safe there.”

“I hope you’re right about this.” Debra sprinted for the staircase leading to the basement.

Lillian untied her apron as she hurried to her desk. After wetting the material, she tied it around her face. At the front door, she paused and closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, let this be the right decision. Save these children and protect the men coming to help us.”

Protect Timothy. Why did I let him leave in anger yesterday? Forgive me, Timothy.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and went out to ring the bell. She made sure she had all the boys as they raced inside. When they were safe, she said, “Get down to the basement.”

Susan came up the steps just as Lillian reached it. “Teacher, I can’t get the outside doors open.”

“I’ll go around to the back and see if something is blocking it.” Gabriel started for the door.

Lillian grabbed his arm. “Nee, get downstairs with the others. I’ll go.”

When he did as she told him, Lillian pulled her wet apron over her face again and stepped out into the dense smoke.