Ella's Wish (2 page)

The fact would just have to be accepted that prayers could not be said in the house—at least, not out-loud ones. The desire to hear them would have to remain unfulfilled. So many of the other experiences would be lost too, like seeing Aden’s eyes when he first saw her on Sundays or feeling his arms around her in one of his precious hugs. Nothing could be done about it.

Life swirls heavily around me. I can feel it tonight. It is in the sound of the wind under the house’s soffits and in the noise the little legs of the couch made when Eli and Monroe pushed it into place on the hardwood floor. It is in the vast emptiness of the upstairs bedrooms and the huge basement beneath. The rooms are unfilled, unlived in, and waiting. Life wants something from me, but what? It’s even in Clara’s eyes, lifted to me with expectation. Clara thinks I am capable, energetic, and a safe guide for her journey to adulthood. She looks to me to be an interpreter of Amish peculiarities, offering her sense when life seems senseless. Yet I am only Ella—simple Ella with a heart that beats in broken rhythms
.

I loved a man with all of my heart, and
Da Hah—
for reasons only He understands—has taken him from me. I still believe in
Da Hah
for many reasons, some of which are the same incomprehensible reasons I’ve grown up with, but mainly because He is God. One doesn’t go around throwing taunts at the Almighty. Does my faith not demand it? Even more and on a deeper level, does my heart not demand it?

“You don’t like Mamm’s casserole?” Clara asked, puzzled. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

“Ach, of course,” Ella said, grabbing her spoon. “Silly me. Mamm’s food is always good. My mind was somewhere else, that’s all.”

The casserole tasted like home. It melted in her mouth and brought back the memories of what she had just left—her mom, her room upstairs, the morning rush, the evening chores, the smell of the barn, and the joys of life on Seager Hill.

Ella saw that Clara was watching her and felt the need to say, “I’m going to cry yet, just like the
bobli
I am. Mamm’s casserole has me thinking about home.”

Clara laughed. “If that’s all that’s bothering you, you’ll be okay. I’ve felt like that sometimes, like the time I stayed overnight at cousin Emma’s house for the first time.”

“But I’m older than you are,” Ella said.

“Maybe,” Clara allowed, “but that just means you’ll get over it sooner.”

“Perhaps.” Ella forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re here for the first night.”

“And I’ll come back some more,” Clara said with a chirp, “as often as Mamm lets me.”

“I’ll have you. That’s for sure.” Ella didn’t have to force a smile. She thickly buttered a piece of fresh bread that had been made that morning before they left with the spring wagon for the move. Ella mounded on the raspberry jam and then wondered whether she could actually eat the whole piece. It looked huge in her hand.

Carefully she lifted the bread to her mouth. The rich aroma of bread flooded her senses, and the jam exploded with flavor in her mouth. The creamy butter mellowed the tang of the berries, and the whole mouthful became a sensuous delight as she slowly chewed. Suddenly, the piece of bread no longer looked too large. It looked much too small. She could go on eating buttered homemade bread and raspberry jam all night.

“Ach, that helps a lot,” Ella whispered between the next bites.

Clara smiled and said, “I think I’ll have a piece myself.”

She prepared the bread quickly. A pleased expression spread over her face even before she bit into it. They chewed together in rapturous silence and then burst into laughter.

“Well,” Ella said, “that makes one feel much better, and now we don’t even have a lot of dishes. So why don’t I do them while you’re off to bed.”

“It’s still early,” Clara protested, “and I want to read. I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Another thirty minutes,” Ella said, giving way. “I guess there are no chores tomorrow morning, but we’re still getting up early. I’m not forming any bad habits just because we’re not at home.”

“No, you wouldn’t. I know you too well for that.” Clara laughed and carried her dish to the sink. Ella dipped cold water from the bucket into the sink while Clara nestled down on the couch. Tomorrow she would light a fire in the stove. Tonight soapy cold water was good enough. Ella finished the few dishes and then walked over to check on what Clara was reading. Unable to see, Ella lifted the jacket up to glance underneath.

“Nee!” she exclaimed. “What is this?
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer?
Where did you get the book?”

“It’s not bad,” Clara protested. “Eli said it wasn’t, and he got it for me. I just brought it along to read.”

“I know what it is, but where did Eli get it?”

“The library.”

“Does Daett know he goes to the library?”

Clara shrugged. “Mamm’s seen me reading it, and she didn’t say anything.”

Ella’s mind whirled.
What business does Eli have at the library in Randolph? None, that I know of. He is almost eighteen and never has been much of a reader, and it is highly unlikely he has suddenly become one. My brother is up to no good, and it takes little imagination to figure out what that is
.

Two

E
lla lit the gas lantern and hung it on the nail in the kitchen ceiling. In the silence of the house, its soft gush of sound filled the room. Clara, on the verge of sleepiness, sat on the couch. Every now and then, her copy of
Tom Sawyer
would tilt downward and then jerk back up again. Ella returned to the kitchen table as thoughts of Eli’s possible actions rushed through her head.

It has to be Eli who has filled Clara’s young mind with such things. Not that
Tom Sawyer
causes any serious trouble with Amish traditions—Mamm would have taken the book away if it had. The problem is with what else Eli is doing in the library
.

There can only be one possible answer and it is the
Englisha
girl, Pam. Eli has obviously made further contact with her and determined the safest place to meet is the Randolph library
. Ella hadn’t been in the library that often, but she knew the layout of the place. From the main entrance, the bookshelves extended in both directions.
There are plenty of places to act like you had found a book and page through it while in conversation with someone else. On the slim chance an Amish person saw you, it would look quite innocent
.

How like Eli, with his stubborn mind, to go and push things to the edge
. If caught in this deception, it would be more serious because Eli was a conscientious boy who planned to start instruction class this fall.

Not all the youth joined church this early, but Eli wanted to. Apparently his heart wasn’t totally in the effort, or else he had been seriously sidetracked. Which was correct, she wasn’t certain, but this situation wasn’t needed.
I have enough problems to deal with already. Problems like how I am supposed to support myself
. Distracted, she scribbled figures on the paper in front of her. None of the totals that came up looked acceptable.

There was still some money left from when the house burned in the midst of the construction project. The Amish community, their compassion stirred by her already great loss, rebuilt the house on two Saturday frolics.

Also, the possibility of marriage to young Bishop Wayne Miller would mean an adequate income. His unexpected proposal hung heavy on the horizon. He would return soon for her answer, and she needed to be ready to give it.

After Aden’s death, she would have been fine climbing into a hole and pulling dirt right down on top of herself. Instead, life had gone on as usual. Days turned into nights, the chores still needed to be done, and family life continued. Then it all changed.

She often wondered what Bishop Miller was thinking by approaching her so soon.
Am I a rubber band he can just stretch out however he pleases?
She was surprised at the nerve of the bishop, coming over and stating his intentions while her heart still throbbed with pain.

He had said he would give her time to heal and would return for an answer in six months. That would soon be up. The thought caused Ella to shiver in the early evening chill.
Bishop is a good-looking man—there is no doubt about that. He’s almost as handsome as Aden
. She could admit that much without any disloyalty to Aden’s memory, but beyond that she was not prepared to go.

“Bishop Miller’s attentions are a great honor,” Dora had reminded her last week. “Just think how quickly he came over. I think it’s a sure sign of
Da Hah
’s hand in the thing.”

“I don’t think so,” Ella had retorted. “I wished he’d have left me alone. I was just fine the way I was.”

“You were not,” Dora said. “You haven’t been right since Aden passed. Now with this fresh start offered to you, the good days could start again. You’d be happy and cheerful, like you used to be. He’s a
gut
one to love, Ella. He really is.”

“So why are you suddenly so cheerful about something?” Ella asked. “Normally we’d be hearing the dark side of things from you.”

“It’s because this is such a good chance for you—a chance to start over with a
gut
man. That’s why. I can feel it all the way down to my bones. In time, the bishop’s love might be almost as
gut
as Aden’s had been. The second time around usually happens that way.”

“My heart hasn’t healed up, and that’s that.” She had glared at Dora, who only shook her head in response.

“Mamm and Daett approve wholeheartedly.” Dora got in her last and best shot.

But as someone else’s wife
. Ella shivered again. Her coming wedding to Aden had been close enough that she had almost imagined the promises being said in front of the bishop.
No, I won’t marry another man. I will choose my own way. Having my own house helps
.

Still, guilt gnawed at her.
Am I being stubborn and displaying the family trait like Eli? Do I have the right to live my own life while others might need me—such as young Bishop Wayne Miller?
He had not yet found a girl whom he considered worthy of marriage.
Can I survive as a single woman if I reject him? Will it be allowed? Can I allow it myself
?

Ella glanced toward Clara, who had fallen asleep. Her book was crooked on her lap, her head was tossed back, and her white covering was crushed against the couch fabric. She was the picture of innocence; of what life was like before adult burdens descended.

Oh, for youth! For the carefree hours when life seems like an open road on a summer morning, and the horse stands rested and ready for travel! But I am so tired now. True, it is late, but that does not cause my weariness. It’s life that has left me weary despite my being so young
.

With reluctance, she got up and walked over to where Clara slept, her body slumped in a half upright position. Clara was too big to carry to bed, and so Ella gently shook her shoulder. Clara sleepily opened her eyes, and her hands grasped the cover of the book before it slid to the floor.

“Did I fall asleep?” she murmured.

“Kumma,”
Ella whispered. “I’ll help you to bed.”

Clara got up with Ella’s hand on her shoulder, and the two walked toward the bedroom. Ella found Clara’s night clothes in her suitcase and helped her change and crawl under the covers. She tucked the quilt around her and whispered, “Good night.”

Clara simply rolled over and gave no response.

Ella returned to the kitchen table and thought of sleep, her eyelids heavy. The gas lantern hissed above her. Its sound was like that of her people’s lives—steady, quiet, private, and at peace with the world around them.

Ella struggled to think.
There is the matter of money and Eli
. Those looked like the first two things needing attention. The amorous bishop would have to be dealt with when he showed up, and each moment would have to be taken from there. Da Hah
helped me before—even if I couldn’t understand His ways—and there is no reason to believe He won’t continue to do so
.

He will surely help me with Eli’s stubbornness. I will have to tell my parents, but how will Eli react from the pressure that’s to descend upon him? Will he give the girl up? Eli has several good prospects among the Amish girls, and all might be lost if even the slightest report of his actions becomes known
.

Can it be kept in the family?
Ella almost thought it could, and a moment later, she was certain it could. Relief flooded through her.
I will tell Mamm what I know, and Eli can be dealt with at home. Further secrecy on my part is no longer in order. Tomorrow I will take Clara back and tell them everything
.

What then to do about the money?
Ella frowned. It felt distasteful to look at things in such stark terms, but there was no doubt she needed a source of income. With quick scribbles her pen added up numbers on the paper but again found no concrete answer.

To her surprise and amidst deep thought, there came a sharp knock on the front door. The sound vibrated through the still house, and Ella jumped.
Who could be at the door at this hour of the night?
She pushed against the table to scoot her chair back and stood up. The motion caused her papers to slide across the table. Her pen rolled across the tabletop and dropped noisily to the floor.

Three

E
lla listened quietly but heard nothing.
How could someone come to my door without me hearing them?
The blood suddenly pounded in her ears. Never had she felt such fear at home. Daett was always there to answer the door.
Is this fear and distress when visitors call to be a part of my new life? Is this even a visitor?

With a deep breath, Ella got up slowly while pressing her hand against her chest.
It’s nothing
, she told herself and walked toward the front door with as steady a step as she could manage. She opened the door slowly. Her breath caught in her throat when she was unable to make out the form in front of her. At least he wore the familiar broad hat. At the moment, anything familiar was a comfort.