Cousin's Challenge (4 page)

Lonnie smiled as he folded the letter and returned it to his pocket. Then he leaned his head against the wooden beam behind him, feeling fully relaxed. Carolyn was coming for a visit. In just a couple of weeks, he could ask her to marry him. Except for the throbbing in his hand and the fact that he'd lost out on some pay, this day wasn't going so bad after all.

Lonnie closed his eyes and let his mind wander as he pictured himself and Carolyn on their wedding day. He saw the two of them standing before the bishop, answering his questions and agreeing to stay married until they were separated by death.

He continued to daydream, thinking about how his life would be once they were married and raising a family of their own. How many children would they have? If they had girls, would they have hair the color of golden wheat and sparkling blue eyes like Carolyn? Would the girls enjoy quilting and working with flowers the way she did? Would their boys take after him, with wavy blond hair and closely set brown eyes? Would they have an ear for music, like their father had?

Bam!
The barn door opened and shut with a bang, and Lonnie's eyes snapped open. Sharon, wide-eyed and red-faced, rushed into the barn. “Lonnie, come,
schnell!”

Lonnie groaned, feeling irritated by the interruption. “Where is it you want me to go quickly, Sharon?”

Tears coursed down her cheeks. “My quilt's on fire!”

Lonnie's heart pounded as he raced for the house. When he stepped inside, he saw smoke and flames coming from the kitchen.

He grabbed a towel from a wall peg, wet it at the utility sink, and draped it over his head. Then he grabbed a bucket, filled it with water, and dashed into the kitchen. The quilt, which had been hung over a wooden rack near the stove, was in flames. Lonnie threw the bucket of water over it, filled the bucket once more, and doused it again. When the fire was out, he grabbed the soggy quilt and hauled it outside.

“It's ruined!” Sharon sobbed as she dropped to the ground beside the remains of her quilt. “I—I didn't put the rack too close to the stove, so I don't know how it caught on fire.”

“What'd you clean it with—bleach or peroxide?” Lonnie asked.

“Peroxide. I found a big bottle of it in the utility room and poured some on the spot where the beet juice was.”

“Did you mix it with water or use it full strength?” Lonnie questioned.

“I poured some into a smaller container, and then I put it on the quilt full strength.” She hiccupped on a sob. “That stuff smelled horrible; it made me cough and gag.”

Lonnie groaned. The peroxide that had been sitting in the utility room had been the 30 percent industrial kind and should have been diluted with water before use. He'd read several articles in
The Budget
about fires that had been started because people had used 30 percent peroxide full strength and exposed whatever they'd been cleaning to the sun or some other heat source. Of course, Lonnie wasn't sure if it was the peroxide that had caused Sharon's quilt to catch on fire or if it had been placed too close to the stove. He'd been in such a hurry to get the fire out he hadn't noticed how close the drying rack had been set. Either way, the quilt was ruined, and his sister would be in trouble with their mother.

“Guess it's my fault this happened,” he mumbled. “I should have never suggested that you put peroxide on the quilt.” He rapped the side of his head. “Just never dreamed you'd use Dad's 30 percent peroxide at full strength.”

“What am I gonna do, Lonnie?” Sharon wailed. “When Mom and Pop get back from town, I'll get a bletsching for sure.”

“You won't get a bletsching. I'll explain what happened, and everything will be fine.” Lonnie turned toward the house. “I need to get back inside and clear out the smoke and ashes. While I'm doing that, you can get the wheelbarrow.”

“What for?”

“So we can haul the quilt out to the garbage.”

“Oh, okay.” Sharon hurried off toward the barn to get the wheelbarrow, and Lonnie went into the house.

He'd just gotten some windows open and had begun to clean up the mess when he heard the sound of buggy wheels rumbling into the yard.
Oh, great, the folks must be home.

By the time Lonnie stepped outside, Mom was already out of the buggy and standing beside Sharon, staring at the ruined quilt while shaking her head. The wheelbarrow was parked nearby.

Tearfully, Sharon explained what had happened.

Mom moaned. “How could you have been so foolish, Sharon?”

“It's not entirely her fault,” Lonnie said, stepping between them. “I'm the one who suggested she use peroxide to get out the beet juice. I just didn't think she'd use the bottle of peroxide on the utility porch or that she'd put it on full strength.”

“What in the world were you thinking, boy?” Pop asked when he joined them. “You oughta know better than to tell your sister to use that stuff.” He grunted, and his pale, bushy eyebrows pulled tightly together. “What a
dummkopp.”

“I'm not a dunce, and I didn't think she'd—”

Pop glared at Lonnie. “Your mamm worked real hard making that quilt, and I think you oughta pay her what it'll cost to buy material to make a new one.”

Mom shook her head. “He doesn't have to do that, Ezra. I've got plenty of material on hand. Enough so that Sharon can make a new quilt for her bed.”

Sharon puckered her lips. “But Mom, I don't know how to sew a quilt.”

“Then it's time you learned.” Mom nudged Sharon's arm. “And for taking those beets up to your room, you'll have extra chores to do for the next two weeks.” She grimaced. “The fire never would have happened if you'd eaten the beets in the kitchen like you know you're supposed to do.”

Lonnie bent down, scooped up the quilt, and dropped it into the wheelbarrow. He was on his way to the garbage can when Pop, walking briskly beside him, grabbed hold of his arm. “What are you doing home? Didn't Rueben have any work for you today?”

Lonnie held up his bandaged hand. “Couldn't do much with this hurting the way it does.”

“You managed to put out a fire and haul Sharon's quilt outside. How do you account for that?”

Lonnie gritted his teeth. Was Pop trying to provoke him into an argument? “Seemed like putting out the fire was an emergency, so I ignored the pain in my hand.” Lonnie hurried off before Pop could say anything more.

As Jolene headed down the road toward the Troyers' place, her stomach twisted with nervousness. What if Sylvia and Irvin didn't like her? Worse yet, what if the children's parents didn't like her? She remembered Aunt Dorcas telling her that it was very important for a teacher of deaf students to get acquainted with the students' parents. This, she'd said, would help the teacher understand the things the children might tell her that had happened at home. Getting to know the parents also helped the teacher see how the parents were dealing with the children and their loss of hearing.

Jolene tightened her grip on the reins. It wasn't in her nature to worry so much or get worked up over things. She knew she needed to relax and commit this to God.

She whispered a prayer, took a few deep breaths, and relaxed her grip on the reins. By the time she'd pulled off the road and was heading up the Troyers' driveway, she felt calmer and a bit more confident.

Jolene pulled up to the hitching rail and stepped down from the buggy. She'd just finished securing the horse when a tall, freckle-faced man with red hair stepped out of the barn. Figuring he must be the children's father and having been told that he could sign, Jolene used signing as she spoke the words.

“I'm Jolene Yoder. I've been hired by the school board to teach your children.”

He gave an enthusiastic nod and signed as he spoke. “I'm Harvey Troyer, Sylvia and Irvin's daed. It's good you have come. We know that the teacher at the Amish schoolhouse can't teach them, and we don't relish the idea of sending them away to school.”

“I understand.”

Jolene spent the next several minutes talking with Harvey about how she'd lost her own hearing and had received training from her aunt in Pennsylvania, who'd been teaching deaf students a good many years. Then they talked about Jolene's previous years as a teacher and how she wanted to be a good teacher to his children as well.

“I hope to not only teach the children their lessons, but also how to formulate words and read lips,” she said.

“That would be a good thing.” He smiled. “Now let's go in the house so you can meet my wife, Mary, and the children. Sylvia and Irvin both know how to sign and have had one year of schooling, so I don't think teaching them will be a problem.”

“I'm looking forward to meeting them,” Jolene said.

Harvey led the way, and when they entered the house, Jolene was met by the enticing sweet smell of gingerbread. She followed Harvey into the kitchen, where a woman with light brown hair and pale blue eyes stood near the stove. A little boy who looked to be about three years old played with some pots and pans on the floor near her feet. A wooden cradle sat nearby with a baby inside.

“Mary, this is Jolene Yoder.” Harvey motioned to Jolene. “She's the one who'll be teaching Irvin and Sylvia.”

Mary smiled as she spoke to Jolene and signed, “I'm happy to meet you.” She turned to her husband then and said something. He nodded and left the room. When he returned, two young children were with him.

“This is Sylvia.” Harvey patted the brown-haired, blue-eyed girl on the head, and then he did the same to the boy with red hair and freckles. “This is our oldest child, Irvin.”

Jolene signed to the children that she was happy to meet them and was anxious to begin teaching on Monday.

The seconds ticked by as the children stared at her, making no effort to sign anything in return.

“I think my kinner are kind of shy right now. I'm sure they'll warm up to you once you begin teaching them,” Mary said.

Jolene decided to try again. She got down on her knees, so she was eye-level with Sylvia.
“How old are you?”
she signed.

Sylvia dropped her gaze and scuffed the toe of her sneaker on the floor. After a few seconds, she looked up and signed,
“I'm seven.”

Jolene looked over at Irvin.
“How old are you?”

The boy shrugged.

Harvey nudged Irvin's arm.
“Your teacher asked you a question.”

The boy gave no response.

“Don't be stubborn now,”
Harvey signed.
“Tell Jolene how old you are.”

Irvin shook his head.

Jolene had a hunch that the boy might be the defiant type. She'd seen it in a few of the older scholars when she'd taught school before the accident. If that was the case, he'd probably be difficult to teach.

Oh, Lord,
she silently prayed.
What have I gotten myself into?

Jolene glanced around the small classroom she'd been given to teach her two students. It was upstairs in the small schoolhouse, set apart from the rest of the scholars, but it had been equipped with the supplies she would need—a blackboard, chalk, paper, pencils, and plenty of books. Being in the schoolhouse brought back a flood of memories from the days when she'd been downstairs sitting at the desk Fern Bontrager now occupied. It made Jolene realize how much she'd missed teaching.

She took a seat at the desk that had been provided for her as she waited for Irvin and Sylvia to arrive.
If the scholars in Fern's class knew how to sign, I'd be able to teach them, not just the deaf children.
She sighed.
Guess I should be grateful for this opportunity to teach and stop wishing for the impossible.

Jolene felt the floor vibrate, and she turned toward the door. Sylvia entered the room, wearing an eager expression. Irvin trailed behind her, head down and shoulders slumped.

“Good morning,”
Jolene signed. She pointed to the low-hung shelf across the room.
“You can put your lunch pails over there.”

Sylvia smiled and placed her lunch pail on the shelf, but Irvin scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor and stared up at Jolene like he had no idea what she'd signed.

Twice more Jolene told the boy to put his lunch pail on the shelf, but he didn't budge. It made no sense, because Irvin's father had assured her that both of his children understood signing. She was sure the boy was just being stubborn and testing her patience.

Finally, in exasperation, Jolene signed to Irvin,
“If you don't put your lunch pail on the shelf right now, you'll have to stand in the corner.”

No response.

Jolene took hold of Irvin's arm and led him to the corner. He stood like that while she showed Sylvia to her desk.

It gave Jolene no pleasure to begin the day like this, but after having taught hearing students, she knew she must be firm without being mean. After ten minutes went by, she turned Irvin toward her and signed,
“Please put your lunch pail on the shelf.”

She was relieved when he shuffled across the room and did as she'd asked.
“Now, please take a seat,”
she signed, and then she pointed to the desk next to Sylvia's.

Irvin glanced over at his sister, back at Jolene, and then ambled over to his desk and sat down.

Jolene sent up a silent prayer.
Thank You, Lord.

Before starting their lessons, Jolene had the children stand and sign the Lord's Prayer. Then she opened her Bible and signed as she read Proverbs 16:24 out loud:

“ ‘Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones.'” She decided that the verse was a timely reminder for her as well as the children.

As they began their arithmetic lesson, Sylvia gave Jolene her full attention, but Irvin appeared disinterested, looking away whenever Jolene signed anything to him, and drawing silly pictures on his tablet instead of the numbers she'd written on the blackboard. Jolene knew she'd need to come up with some way to get through to the boy. She wished she could talk to Aunt Dorcas about this. With all the experience her aunt had teaching deaf children, she was sure to have some idea what Jolene could do. When she got home from school today she would ask Mom to call Aunt Dorcas and relay her concerns.

Ella and her brother Larry had just taken a seat in the waiting room at the dentist's office when Loraine entered the room.

“Wie geht's?”
Loraine asked, taking a seat on the other side of Ella.

“I'm doing fine.” Ella motioned to Larry. “He's had a toothache for the last few days, so he's missing a few hours of school this morning to get it taken care of.”

Larry grunted. “Rather be in school any old day than here right now.”

Loraine offered him a sympathetic smile. “You'll do fine. Dr. Hopkins is a good dentist.”

“What are you here for?” Larry asked.

“I'm just here for a cleaning and checkup.” Loraine turned to Ella. “I'm surprised your mamm didn't bring Larry to the dentist. I figured you'd be working in your daed's shop this morning. We heard about Lonnie's injured hand.”

Ella grimaced. “Mama's not feeling well, so she asked me to bring Larry in. Besides, Papa can get along without me for a few hours. I'm just doing the books and helping string some of the chimes. He assured me that he and Charlene could manage fine while I'm gone.”

“I'm sorry to hear your mamm's not feeling well,” Loraine said. “She seems to be sick a lot, doesn't she?”

Ella nodded and glanced over at Larry. She didn't want to express her concerns in front of the boy, but she was worried about her mother—had been ever since the van accident two years ago, when her brother Raymond had been killed. Ella figured it would be hard for any parent to lose a child, but she thought it was taking Mama much longer to come to grips with Raymond's death than it should have. Unless Mama's fatigue and shakiness were caused by something else. Maybe it wasn't just grief over losing Raymond. Maybe there was something physically wrong with Mama. If she'd only agree to see the doctor and let him run a few tests. But no, Mama thought everything could be cured by taking a dose of castor oil or some concoction made with apple cider vinegar and honey. Not that those things would do her any harm, but they hadn't kept Mama from feeling so tired, and they weren't a substitute for seeing the doctor.

“We're ready for you now,” the dental assistant said when she stepped up to Larry.

He looked over at Ella, as if seeking her approval. When she nodded, he rose from his chair and followed the young woman into the other room, walking slowly with his head down.

“He wasn't happy about coming here,” Ella said to Loraine. “In fact, he griped about it all the way from our house into town.”

“I'm sure he'll be fine once he's numbed up and his tooth stops hurting.”

“Jah.”

Loraine reached over and touched Ella's arm. “You look like something's bothering you. Are you worried about your mamm?”

“Uh-huh. You know, she hasn't been the same since Raymond died, and I don't think it's just emotional.” Ella's forehead wrinkled. “I don't want Larry or my sisters to know that I'm worried about Mama, though. No point in upsetting them, too.”

“Have you talked to your daed about this?”

“I've tried, but he's either too busy to listen or makes light of it.” Ella groaned. “I wonder just how sick Mama will have to get before she's willing to see the
dokder.”

“Would you like me to see if my mamm will speak to your mamm about seeing the doctor?” Loraine asked.

Ella shrugged. “I doubt she'll make any headway, but if she's willing, then I guess it's worth a try.”

“When I'm done here I'll swing by my folks' place and ask her.”

“Danki.” Ella reached for a magazine and thumbed through a couple of pages. Aunt Priscilla and Mama had always been close. If anyone could get through to Mama, it might be Aunt Priscilla.

“I have a few worries of my own this morning,” Loraine said with a lingering sigh.

Ella, feeling immediate concern, snapped the magazine closed. “What kind of worries? It's nothing about the boppli, I hope.”

“No, everything's going fine with my pregnancy. Wayne told me this morning that he's worried because the taxidermy business has slowed down all of a sudden. He's afraid if things get any worse he won't be able to support us.” Deep wrinkles formed in Loraine's forehead. “With a boppli on the way, it's even more frightening to think of Wayne being without a job.”

Ella's fingernails dug into the armrests on her chair. “So many of our people are out of work and struggling financially. I'm beginning to wonder if things will ever turn around for us.”

“It's very frightening,” Loraine said, “but we've got to keep the faith and do whatever we can to make extra money. Wayne's good at woodworking, and he's made a few nice pieces of furniture for our house. He's also made some things for his folks' new home. I suggested to him this morning that he start making more things. Maybe he can sell them to one of the local furniture stores.” She smiled, despite her obvious concerns.

“In the meantime, we just need to keep praying and trusting that God will provide for our needs.”

“Guder mariye,” Andrew said when he entered Tiffany's Restaurant in Topeka and found Wayne waiting for him at a table near the back. They'd decided to meet for breakfast before they began work for the day. Freeman would also be joining them.

Wayne looked up at Andrew and smiled. “Mornin'. Is this table okay with you?”

“Suits me just fine.” Andrew pulled out a chair and took a seat. “No sign of Freeman yet, huh?”

“Nope. I'm sure he'll be along soon, though. He'd never pass up the opportunity to be in such good company as ours.”

Andrew chuckled. “I doubt he's coming here for our company. More than likely it's to fill his belly with ham and eggs.”

“You're probably right about that.” Wayne thumped his stomach a couple of times. “I hope he gets here soon, 'cause my belly's startin' to rumble.”

A young English waitress came to their table. “Would you like to place your orders?” she asked, smiling at Andrew.

“Just some coffee for now,” he replied. “We're waiting on a friend.”

The waitress left the table and returned a few minutes later with two cups and a pot of coffee.

Andrew had just poured some coffee into the cups when Freeman walked in. “Sorry for making you wait, but I had a bike that needed fixing right away this morning and it took me longer than I expected.” Freeman took a seat. “Have you two ordered your meals yet?”

Wayne shook his head. “Figured we'd wait for you.”

Freeman thumped Wayne's back a couple of times. “It's sure nice to have such good friends.”

The waitress showed up again and took their orders. While they waited for their food, they visited about the weather and caught up on each other's lives.

It wasn't long until the waitress returned with their orders: scrambled eggs and ham for Wayne; pancakes with maple syrup for Andrew; and a ham-and-cheese omelet for Freeman.

About halfway through their meal, Eunice showed up at their table. “This is a nice surprise,” she said, smiling down at Andrew.

He nodded and reached for his cup of coffee to wash down the hunk of pancake he'd just put in his mouth. “I'm surprised to see you out so early this morning.”

“I needed a few things at the Shoe and Boot store and decided to stop here for some breakfast first.”

“Oh, I see.”

Eunice leaned on the edge of the table. “I met your sister on Saturday, over at Ella's. She seems like a nice person.”

Andrew nodded. “Jolene's one of the nicest people I know—even if she is my
schweschder.”

Wayne needled Andrew in the ribs. “You probably wouldn't say that if Jolene was sitting here, would you?”

Andrew shrugged. “I'll bet I would. I say nice things about everyone in my family.”

“My sister's pretty nice, too,” Freeman put in. “And I'm not ashamed to say it.”

Eunice bobbed her head. “Fern and I have become good friends. She's one of the nicest people I know.” She gave Andrew another heart-melting smile. “I hope Jolene and I can become friends, too.”

“If you want to be her friend, then it might be a good idea for you to learn how to sign so you can communicate with her better,” Andrew said. “Sometimes it's hard for her to read lips, so signing's the better way to go.” He grunted. “Of course, I've only had one lesson in signing, and I've got a long way to go. I do plan to learn, though, and so do my folks. Jolene's going to have regular signing sessions at our house once or twice a week, so you're welcome to join us.”

Eunice moved closer to Andrew. “That sounds interesting, but I'm not sure I'd have time for signing lessons right now. I'm keeping very busy selling soaps and scented candles.”

“Well, if you ever find the time, I'm sure Jolene would be willing to teach you.”

“I'll keep that in mind, but I'd better get going now.” Eunice gave Andrew one last smile then hurried across the room, glancing over her shoulder before she went out the door.

Wayne poked Andrew's arm. “I think it's safe to say that Eunice is definitely interested in you.”

Andrew shrugged. “Maybe so; I don't know.”

“Kumme
now,” Wayne said. “Are you blind?”

“What do you mean?”

“Couldn't you see the look of longing on her face when she was talking to you?” Wayne bumped Andrew's elbow. “What about you? Are you interested in Eunice?”

Andrew reached for his coffee and took a sip. “She's a friend, nothing more.”

“Better make sure you keep it that way,” Freeman spoke up. “Eunice might look good in the face, but she's a gossip and has been known to cause trouble with that unruly tongue of hers.” He grunted. “I've had firsthand experience with her, so I know what I'm talking about.”

“You've got nothing to worry about, because I'm not getting involved with Eunice.” Andrew set his cup down and leaned his elbows on the table. “Besides, some people change, and there are some good things about Eunice.”

“Name me one thing, besides the fact that she has a pretty face.”

“Let's see now....” Andrew drummed his fingers along the edge of the table. “She's
schmaert
enough to have started her own business, and from what I've heard, she's doing pretty well with it, too.”

“That's fine as feathers,” Freeman said, “but it doesn't make her a nice person.”