A Simple Song (9 page)

“Mamm?” she said in surprise. “You didn't need to get up this early.”

Mamm, still in her long white nightgown, turned toward Katrina. “I couldn't let you go without saying a proper goodbye.” She handed Katrina a paper bag. “I know you already packed some food for your trip, but I made some moon pies last night.”

Katrina hugged her. “Thank you, Mamm.”

“I will be praying for you,” she said solemnly.

“I know you will.”

Mamm looked out the window to where a buggy, with its lanterns glowing, was just pulling up in their driveway. “Don't keep them waiting.”

With her arms loaded with the bags—and tears in her eyes—Katrina told Mamm goodbye, then hurried out into the darkness. She hoped this wasn't a mistake.

“Morning,” Cooper said as he helped her into the buggy.

“Good morning,” she said brightly.

“Morning?” Bekka grumbled. “This is the middle of the night.”

“You can tell Bekka's not a farm girl,” Cooper teased. “Katrina and I are used to getting up with the chickens.”

“The chickens aren't even up yet,” Bekka pointed out.

“Why don't you curl up here and take a nap,” Katrina suggested. “I'll ride in front with Cooper.”

Bekka didn't argue, and Katrina, relieved at the idea of having Cooper to herself for a while, happily sat beside him. “Thank you so much for taking us,” she said quietly.

“I was going that way anyway.”

“Ja . . .”

“I'm sorry,” he said more gently. “I don't know why I'm acting so grumpy lately.”

“I've wondered if something was wrong.”

He let out a long sigh. “There's a lot to think about.”

“I know . . .”

“Decisions to make.”

She just nodded.

“Life decisions . . . you know?” His voice sounded husky. Maybe it was just the cool night air.

“I do know.”

He glanced at her and the buggy lanterns illuminated his face, but she couldn't really see what was in his eyes as he pushed his straw hat more firmly on his brow.

“I feel confused a lot,” she admitted. “I never really intended to do this . . . I mean, to go and sing and try to win a prize. Sometimes I feel like I grabbed ahold of the bull's tail, you know, and he's pulling me around the pasture, jerking me around, but I'm too scared to let go because he'll kick the stuffing out of me.”

Cooper chuckled. “You have a way with words, Katrina.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“A secret?” His voice lilted ever so slightly. “
Ja
, sure.”

As they drove into the gray dawn, she told him the whole story of her grandmother. At least as much as she knew.

“I knew there was some mystery there,” he admitted. “Now it makes more sense.”

“So . . . maybe I feel like Mammi is directing this whole thing. Is that silly?”

“Not at all.”

“I wish I knew the rest of her story,” Katrina said. “That might help me.”

“Well, I can ask Aunt Martha to tell me what she knows.”

“Will you?” Katrina looked at him.

“Sure.”

She continued looking at him, admiring his strong profile in the light of the golden sunrays that were just coming over the eastern horizon, loving his straight nose, how his hair curled around his ears, and the way his lower lip jutted out ever so slightly as he clutched the reins in both hands. Suddenly everything inside of her seemed to want to grab on to him, to hold on to him, to kiss him . . . and to never let go. She'd never known such a strong yearning in her life. Truly, she wanted to hold on to this boy more than anything. Even more than she wanted to sing. And that shocked her.

“Good morning!” Bekka called cheerfully. “It looks as if the sun finally decided to get up after all.”

The three of them conversed back and forth and ate their bagged breakfasts as the buggy rumbled along the road. They were all excited, happily looking forward to whatever it was that lay before them today. But Katrina knew that if Cooper simply asked her, she would change her plans and give it all up for him. She truly believed that.

When they reached the bus station, though, he simply wished her good luck and told her he'd pick them up here at midday on Monday. Then he drove away.

Katrina didn't know what she would have done without Bekka. Everything seemed so busy and crowded and confusing. Yet Bekka managed to get them bus tickets, and after a couple hours of waiting in the station, where they ate their lunch and used the restroom and endured the curious looks of numerous English travelers, they were finally on the bus to Cleveland. Katrina sighed. She had never seen so many strangers before, never been out in the English world like this, not without her parents anyway. It was overwhelming.

“It's about eighty miles,” Bekka told her, “but we'll be there in less than two hours.”

Katrina had never traveled so fast in her life. Just looking out the window made her feel dizzy—everything whizzed by in a blur. But when she didn't look out, her stomach began to feel queasy. “I'll be glad when we get there.”

When they got there, though, she discovered that Cleveland was even bigger and busier than Millersburg. “This doesn't even look like a place where people can live,” she whispered to Bekka as they went out onto the street, where they saw nothing but cars and trucks and many enormous buildings.
She clutched her bag to her chest, smelling the fumes from the traffic. “How can they breathe? How do they find their way? And where do they live?”

Bekka wasn't listening. Instead she was waving to a car and yelling, “Taxi!” as if she knew what she was doing. Maybe she did—maybe she'd seen that on her computer too. Because just like that a yellow-and-black car pulled up, and the driver got out and opened the rear door with a curious grin. “Where you ladies headed?”

They got in, and Bekka told him the name of the hotel at the bottom of Katrina's letter. Katrina was almost afraid to breathe as he pulled his car right out into the other fast-moving cars. If she thought the bus ride was scary, this was way worse.
God, help us
, she silently prayed again and again. This time she kept her eyes firmly shut.

“Here you go, ladies,” he said when the car came to what was thankfully its final stop. “That'll be sixteen dollars.”

Katrina looked at Bekka. “Is that right?”

“
Ja
. Just pay him.”

Katrina opened her bag and fingered through the change left over from their bus tickets, counting it out exactly as she handed it to him. He looked at her as if that wasn't enough.

“Sixteen dollars?” she repeated. “Isn't that right?”

He said a word she didn't understand, then waved at her as if to say, “Get out of my car.” Katrina and Bekka had barely closed the door when he took off. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked Bekka as they looked up at a big, glossy-looking building.

“I don't know.” Bekka smiled at her. “Here we are.”

“What do we do now?” Suddenly Katrina was tired—the end of the day kind of tired—but it wasn't even suppertime yet.

“Let's go inside and find out.”

Katrina could feel people looking at them as they went into the fancy hotel, where there were indoor fountains and huge potted plants and high, high ceilings and all sorts of strange sights. While Bekka went up to a counter, Katrina couldn't help but gape and stare at everything. Somehow she felt that wasn't as rude as when people gaped and stared at her. Oh, she knew she should be used to it by now. It happened whenever they went to town. Sometimes tourists came by the busloads just to look at them and to take pictures, which was the worst. It was as if the English thought Amish folks had no feelings and didn't notice the curious onlookers. To be fair, sometimes Katrina stared back, because some of the clothes that the English wore—well, even if she went around in her underclothes, she would be more covered than they were!

Bekka returned now. “They said to go over there.” She pointed to where some young people were waiting in line. Katrina followed her, and they waited too.

When they finally got up to a counter, a pretty blonde woman in a white shirt asked if she could help them. “We're here for the
American Star
TV show,” Bekka explained. “My friend Katrina here is going to audition tomorrow or the next day.”

The woman peered curiously at Katrina. “Yes, well, I work for the hotel. Not the TV show. Do you girls have a reservation?”

Bekka glanced at Katrina, but Katrina just shrugged.

“What's a reservation?” Bekka asked the woman.

“A reservation is how you get a room. Do you girls have a room?”

“You mean to sleep in?” Bekka asked in a nervous tone.

“Yes. Do you have a place to stay while your friend does her audition for the show?”

Bekka shook her head. “I thought the show took care of that.”

“No. The show uses our hotel to film in, but the contestants are responsible for their own lodging.”

Bekka tossed Katrina a nervous look, so Katrina stepped up. “Do you have sleeping rooms here?” she asked politely.

The woman gave her a grim look. “I'm sorry, but we're booked.”

Katrina bit her lip. “What should we do?”

The woman was punching her fingers on a keyboard now, similar to what Bekka did in her office. It seemed that their problems were of no concern to her.

“I'm sorry,” Katrina told her. “We didn't mean to trouble you, but—”

The woman looked up. “Do you girls have money? Enough for a room here? I think I found a cancellation.”

Katrina nodded. “We have money. How much does a room cost?”

“We have a special rate for the show—ninety-nine dollars a night. Can you afford that for three nights?”

“Three hundred dollars for three nights?” Katrina asked Bekka.

“Do you want the room or not?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” Bekka said. “We'll take it.”

“But—”

“If you win the prize money, it will seem like nothing,” Bekka whispered.

Katrina's hands were shaking as she pulled out three hundred-dollar bills and handed them over to the woman in complete disbelief.

“I'll need more than that,” the woman told her.

“But you said—”

“Yes, I'm sorry if I was unclear. There are also taxes, and since you have no credit card, you'll need to leave a deposit as well.”

Katrina knew what taxes were. “Deposit?” she asked meekly.

“In case you use the minibar.” She chuckled. “Or other services.”

“What?”

The woman explained that some things cost extra. “If you don't use anything out of the cabinet that says minibar, and if you don't order up movies or room service, you should be fine. Normally we'd need a much bigger deposit”—she smiled—“but I think I can trust you girls. An extra hundred dollars should cover it.”

“Another—”

“You'll get it back,” the woman assured her. “I promise. Unless you steal the towels or—”

“We would never steal anything.”

“Yes, I believe you.” She explained that the hundred dollars would be refunded when they left.

Katrina handed over the money, realizing she only had one hundred-dollar bill and some smaller ones left. Fortunately, they had their return bus tickets already, as well as the food they'd both brought from home. She hoped that would be enough.

The woman took down their names and addresses and did some more clicking on her computer, then handed Katrina a piece of paper as well as a tiny envelope with some pieces of plastic in it. “Those are your keys.”

Katrina stared at the strange things. “Keys?”

“I'm going to get a bellhop for you.”

“Bellhop?” Katrina gave Bekka a quizzical look, but she seemed as confused as Katrina.

The woman was already on the phone. After she hung up, she pointed to a gigantic potted plant. “You go wait right there, and Vinnie will show you to your room.” She smiled again. “Good luck, Katrina.”

“Thank you.” Katrina smiled nervously, and they went over to wait by the plant. The pot was as tall as Bekka.

“I'm sorry,” Bekka said humbly. “I've never done anything like this before. Mamm and Daed got us a room at a guesthouse. Maybe I should've checked—”

“Never mind. We're here now. Let's just hope we have enough money to stay here.”

An older dark-skinned man in a red jacket with brass buttons came over. The nametag on his pocket said “Vinnie.” He smiled politely. “Afternoon, young ladies. Miss Campton asked me to see you to your room. Can I carry your bags?”

Katrina looked at Bekka.

“All right,” Bekka said, handing him her shopping bag of food. “But I'll carry my clothing.”

Katrina gave him her food bag too.

With their bags in hand, Vinnie began to walk. “Right this way, please.”

“Thank you for helping us,” Katrina told him as she hurried to keep up.

“This your first time in the city?” he asked.

“Ja,”
Katrina said.

“She's going to audition for
American Star
,” Bekka
announced loudly enough for anyone within shouting distance to hear.

“You're a singer?” he asked Katrina.

“She's an amazing singer,” Bekka told him as he led them down a corridor to where people were waiting in clumps in front of a bunch of steel doors.

He pushed a button on the wall. “These are the elevators. You ladies ever been in one before?”

They both shook their heads and he chuckled. “Well, it's gonna take us up. Way up.” He pointed to the button he'd just pushed. “See how that says ‘Up'? You push it when you want to go up. And you push ‘Down' when you want to go down. Easy breezy.”

Katrina could see other people were looking at them, but suddenly the doors opened and everyone was going inside what looked like a fancy box stall. “Go on in,” Vinnie said. Then he stepped in beside them. “Your room's on floor number 32.” He reached for the wall that was covered with buttons and numbers. “So you just push this one here.” He pushed 32 and it lit up. “See?” Now he pointed above the door. “When that number 32 lights up, it's time to get out.”

They waited, and when 32 turned bright green, they got out. “It's this way to your room,” he said as he walked down a long hallway. “You're in Room 3242. Right here. Get out your key and I'll show you how that works.”

Katrina pulled out a plastic card. “This does not look like a key.”

“I know. I remember when hotels had real brass keys. Those were the days.” He showed them how to slide the plastic key into the slot, how to wait until a tiny light turned green, and how to open the door. “You gotta do it quick,” he said. Then
he took them into a room much bigger than a bedroom. In fact, it had two big beds as well as two chairs and a table where Vinnie set their food bags.

“Is this all for us?” Katrina asked in wonder.

“Yep. All yours.” He showed them how everything worked. He told them what the hotel would charge for and what was free. “See this cabinet?” He somberly pointed to a door with the word
minibar
on it. “Do not touch it—or it will cost you a lot more than it's worth.”

They both nodded.

“And behind this door”—he opened a wooden cupboard—“is your fridge.”

A refrigerator in a bedroom? Katrina thought she'd seen it all now.

He showed them a spacious closet with lots of pretty hangers and its own ironing board and iron. “This here is to the bathroom.” He pushed open a door to a brightly lit room with an enormous mirror. It was the third mirror Katrina had seen. Why did anyone need so many mirrors? “You can use anything you want in here,” he told them. “It's all free.” He pulled something off the wall and pushed a button so that hot air blew out. “Hairdryer,” he said.

“You're sure these soaps and shampoos and things are free?” Bekka looked doubtful as she held up a basket filled with pretty little bottles.

“Yep. Use 'em up, and you can have more if you need them.”

“And the toilet paper is free?” Katrina asked.

He laughed. “Yep. And the tissues too. You even get free coffee and tea.” He showed them an area for making it, giving them a quick lesson on the coffeepot. But he shook his
finger at a couple of bottles of what looked like water. “Don't drink these,” he said.

“Why not?” Bekka asked. “Isn't it just water?”

“Yep. But those are not free.”

“You charge money for water?” Katrina asked.

“Just the water in
those
bottles.” He pointed to the glasses and coffee mugs. “All the water in the tap is free.”

“Oh . . .” Katrina shook her head. Water cost money, but soap was free. And why put a water bottle in the room when there was water in the tap? So many things about the English made no sense.

It seemed Vinnie's tour was finished as he showed them how to lock and bolt the door. “If you have any trouble, you just call downstairs and ask for Vinnie.”

They both thanked him, and he shook their hands and wished Katrina good luck with her audition, but before he left, he reminded them to secure the door. As soon as he was gone, they both burst into giggles and then thoroughly explored every little detail of this strange and luxurious room. They unpacked their bags and put everything away in the drawers by the bed and the hangers in the big closet.

“Do the English really live like this?” Katrina picked up the phone receiver in the bathroom and laughed. Their room had three phones! And the bedding and pillows—each bed had half a dozen pillows on it! Why would anyone need all those pillows? But she was relieved that everything looked clean and smelled nice.

Bekka was busy with the TV now, trying to figure out how to make it do something. Katrina went over to the window and pulled back the long, filmy curtains. She peered out and nearly fell over when she saw how far from the ground they
were. “Come and look at this!” she yelled. “We're clear up in the sky!”