Almost Amish (23 page)

The car came to an almost stop, then in a flash of squealing tires and flying gravel took off down the road at a high rate of speed. One of the boys stuck his hand out the window as if to wave good-bye. Gary clucked the horse back into motion.

“Whew, I’m glad that’s over.” Julie’s body was shaking from toes to fingertips.

“Me too,” Whitney said. She leaned forward toward Gary. “Why didn’t you do anything to stop them?”

Gary looked over his shoulder. “That, young lady, was a true Amish experience. There are jerks like that who harass the Amish on a regular basis. It makes you wonder what is so lacking in their own lives that it makes them feel better to pick on someone they know will not fight back.”

“I’ll say.” She sat back and shook her head. “I’d never thought about that. Or maybe the way we all feel kind of funny dressed in our less-than-stylish clothes. Amish people must feel that way a lot.”

Gary nodded as he pulled the horses around to the back of the church. “I’d say we’ve all had one of those ‘learn by experience’ moments this morning, wouldn’t you?”

“I hope we don’t have many more of those.” Whitney climbed down, still shaking her head.

At the church, Gary helped Julie and Susan to climb down and then hitched his thumb back at the road. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit, just to make certain those bozos in the black car don’t come back looking to make some trouble.”

“Do you think they know where we are?” asked Julie. Her nerves had just began to calm, but now she felt her hands shaking again.

“Nah. And they couldn’t see us from the road even if they drove by right now. Still, I’m going to play it safe. I don’t want anyone messing with our wagon, and especially not Popcorn.” He rubbed Popcorn’s muzzle as he said this, his eyes soft. “We don’t want anyone bothering you, do we, girl?”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Susan’s face didn’t quite show the conviction of her words. “We’ll see you after, then.”

They walked around the corner to the side of the church, staying close to the edge of the building and inside the line of shade from the roof overhang. “It’s going to feel good to sit in an air-conditioned church, isn’t it?” Julie fanned herself, trying to focus on the strands of hair sticking to her neck rather than her still-jangled nerves.

Susan nodded. “Yes, it is. I’m never going to take our California weather for granted again.”

“I know just what you mean.”

“Or the safety of being in an actual car, with a cell phone. After what just happened, I can’t understand how Amish can stand to live that way.”

“I suppose it’s faith.” Julie took another step. “I’ve never considered myself lacking in faith, but I was scared out of my mind this morning.”

“Me neither, and me too.”

They were approaching the corner of the front of the building, and the sounds of laughter and squeals seemed louder than normal. Julie supposed that her senses were just heightened after this morning’s ordeal. Just then, Whitney appeared at the corner and beckoned with her arms. “Come on, you two slowpokes. You’ve got to come see this.”

Julie and Susan picked up their pace. When they made it to the corner, Julie began to smile, and then outright laugh. “What happened?”

Brittany, one the girls Julie had met from the youth group, smiled and looked down at her long denim skirt and white short-sleeved button-up shirt, then looked back up and grinned. “A bunch of us were sitting around eating pizza the other night, texting our friends, you know . . . stuff. And we were talking about how we wished we could invite Whitney and Angie and Brian to join us, and how hard it must be not to be able to text or anything. Then we all decided that as a show of support, we would go down to the thrift store and see if we could find some clothes like they wear.” She waved her hand around at the assembled group of teenagers, the girls all wearing long skirts, the boys all wearing button-down shirts and dark vests.

“That was a really nice thing for all of you to do.”

Brittany shrugged. “Nothing to it.”

“I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture of this,” Angie said. “I think it will be one of my favorite memories from this summer.”

“No worries. My phone takes pics. After you’re back in civilization, I’ll friend you on Facebook and put these on your wall.” Brittany held her iPhone high above the crowd and took a picture, then began taking random shots of different kids in the group.

“Make sure you don’t post those now, or it’ll get them all in trouble.”

Julie recognized the voice before she even turned to see Chris. He was wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans—apparently standing out in the group didn’t bother him at all, because in this conservative congregation, he was definitely underdressed.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.” Whitney’s mouth scrunched up into a tight ball of annoyance.

“I just said she can’t post ’em
now
. Didn’t mean she can’t take ’em.”

The music started playing from inside, warning all of them that church was starting. The kids hurried into their usual rows on the far right near the back, and Julie and Susan went to their usual spot on the left near the middle.

Julie couldn’t help but turn to look. Angie and Whitney were sitting together; Brian was a couple of people down. Chris sat in the row behind them, directly behind Angie. Hmm . . .

The music director made his way to the podium. “Let’s all stand and sing ‘Amazing Grace.’ ”

They started singing the familiar hymn, and Julie had to make a conscious effort to focus. Between the harrowing ride to church, and the thrill of what the church youth had done for the kids . . . well, her emotions were charged in every direction, it seemed.

“When we’ve been there, ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun.” Finally she calmed enough to really focus on the words and revel in their deep meaning.

At least, until she heard the male voice joining in the song. She looked to see that Gary had entered the church, and had come to sit beside Susan.

Julie splashed cold water from the kitchen sink on her face, one of the only surefire ways to escape the heat she’d discovered over the past few days. She’d never known five longer days in her life. Long days and shortened tempers. And the heat was responsible for both.

Susan held back the curtain so she could watch the kids walking up the hill. “I think we should definitely check in on their school again. I just don’t think Charlotte is pushing them hard enough.”

“Really? What makes you think so?”

“Well, for one thing, have you checked out the homework they’ve been working on?”

“No, but they’ve been out at the observatory every night this week working on it.” Julie bit back her smile, not wanting to give anything away. “Around here I’ve seen Brian drawing sketches for his project, and both of the girls writing in their journals, which I know was an assignment from Char.”

“My point exactly. Writing in journals? Of what benefit is that? In elementary school, maybe, it helps them practice their cursive. At their age, they need to be buckled down and learning. Angie has a hard enough time keeping up in her classes when she goes to school full-time and works with a couple of tutors at home each week. This is only going to hurt her next year. If I don’t see signs of something significant, I’m going to ask Kendra to find a better instructor.”

Acid burned the walls of Julie’s stomach. “Susan, one of the main appeals about the Amish way of life is that it is so much slower than modern life—at least it’s perceived that way. If we are simply going to turn this into a modern-day pressure-fest in a rural setting, what’s the point?”

“Yes, well, Amish children only go to school until the eighth grade, too. Our kids will be going back to real life, where an eighth-grade education would mean no job, or at least not a job that could sustain a family. We have to remain practical in the middle of this.”

The screech of the screen door, followed by the thump of footsteps across the back porch, preceded a knock at the kitchen door. “I’ll get it.” Julie was thankful for a reason to get out of this conversation. She opened the door to find Gary standing there.

“Good morning, ladies. Hey, I found a little something I thought your families might enjoy. In fact, I am so convinced your kids are going to enjoy them, I thought I’d better give you two a head start or you’ll never get a turn. You want to come see?”

Susan had made her way toward the door. “What is it?”

“Right this way.” He held the door open and gestured toward the barn.

As they walked toward the barn, Susan’s step was its usual brisk I-have-places-to-be pace. Gary matched her step for step. “So how is your day going?”

“Fine.” She kept her pace and barely offered a turned head with the response.

Just as Julie was pondering how rude that came across, Susan must have realized it, too. She slowed her pace and turned toward him. “That came out a little short, didn’t it? I am sorry, it’s just that Lisa Lee is coming to visit in a few days, and it’s hot, and I’m concerned about the kids and their schooling while they’re here, and all that seems to manifest itself in an ugly way. Apologies.”

“I can’t help you with Lisa Lee or the heat, but I would tell you not to worry about the kids. Char is an excellent teacher. I absolutely believe that.”

“I wish I could be so convinced. I’m planning to go out there this morning and see what they are working on. I’m just not sure that she is sufficiently motivated to move the kids in the right direction.”

Gary’s smile faded just a little, but only until he reached the door to the storage shed beside the barn. “If you are determined to go out and check on things this morning, then you will find my surprise especially useful, I think.” He swung open the door to reveal a trio of scooters. At least, Julie thought they were scooters. The wheels were much larger than she’d seen on the scooters at home—almost the size of bicycle tires. “Most of the Amish don’t use bikes, but apparently some allow scooters, as long as they are not fancy. They’re not exactly Razor scooters like you see at all the schools these days, but what they are lacking in form, I believe they will make up in function.”

Julie stood beside one of the contraptions, wondering if she could possibly ride it without killing herself. She put her right hand on the handlebar and squeezed the brake. “I wonder why Kendra never mentioned these.”

“She didn’t know about them. I found out about them and brought some back myself.” He adjusted the Atlanta Braves cap around his gray curls. “Didn’t think I was ever going to convince her to let y’all use them.”

“I’m surprised you did,” Julie said.

“Thankfully, she doesn’t know that some forms of Amish forbid inflatable tires.” He grinned and looked toward Susan.

Julie laughed. “That’s a good thing.” She gave herself a small push and glided forward. “I know the kids will love these.”

“I hope I survive them.” Susan kept her feet firmly planted. “Will you come with us out to school? You can give us a lesson along the way.”

He tipped his cap. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Seeing the expression on his face as he looked at Susan told Julie all she needed to know about why Gary had done this. She couldn’t help but smile thinking about what more surprises this summer might bring.

When they reached the tree line, the sound of Whitney’s laughter drew them away from the school. They looked down onto a little grassy clearing near the water’s edge. A large canopy of gray canvas was strung from a tree on the clearing’s edge, to what looked like a couple of large branches braced together, forming two other corners, making a perfect triangle of shade.

Charlotte looked up as she saw them approaching. “Ah, Mrs. Reynolds, Mrs. Charlton, Mr. Macko, so nice to see you. Have you to come to see what we’re working on, today?”

“What is
that
you three are riding on?” Whitney hopped up and walked over.

“Mr. Macko bought them for us to use around here. We thought we would check them out and make a trip out to see you at the same time,” Julie said.