The Choice (26 page)

As Carrie set clean dishes on the long picnic tables, she saw one man cup his hands around his mouth and yell, “Fix un faerdich!”
All ready!
Almost in unison, the hammering ceased. The women hurried out of the kitchen, wiping their hands on their aprons. Someone hollered out a count, as a few men picked up one frame of the barn wall and hoisted it upright. A few others swarmed to the base of the wall, hammering it securely into the cement foundation of the barn. The opposite wall went up, then the two ends, puzzle pieces locking into place. The youngest men, Sol and Abel included, climbed the wooden rigging as easily as if it were a ladder, hoisting the roof gables up with ropes. Within minutes, the skeleton of the barn, raw and yellow, stood silhouetted against the blue winter sky.

Lunch was served before noon. The men laid down their hammers and nails, untied their waist pouches, and dropped their bundles of tools, right where they’d be working. Emma and Carrie had filled up an old washtub, set outside the kitchen, with warm water, soap, and towels. Even with a brisk wind, the men were red-faced and sweating as they hurried to wash up and find an empty spot at the table. With the jerk of his head, Bishop Graber gave the signal for silent prayer. Automatically, the men dropped chins to chest, quietly communing with the Lord God. Then the bishop coughed, the signal to end the prayer, and the men grabbed their forks and shoveled the food in their mouths.

Abel arrived late to the table, lagging behind after examining something at the work site. Scratching his head, he went straight up to Abraham, seated at the end of the table, eating quickly so the next group, standing on the side, could sit and eat.

“In Ohio, we’re bolting the walls to the foundation.”

Abraham looked up at him curiously.

“It makes the barn sturdier to bolt instead of nail. Against storms and such,” Abel said.

Seated a few seats from the deacon, Sol said loudly, “And how many barns have you built in the last few years?”

Abel jerked his head in Sol’s direction, a confused look on his face.

Abraham intervened. “I have heard about this new bolting from my cousin in Ohio. It helps to protect against tornadoes, especially.”

“But not fires,” Sol said, looking straight at Abel. “What’s to stop a fire?”

Abel locked eyes with Sol.

Abraham slid down on the bench to make room for Abel. “Abel, please sit and eat. I want to hear about your bolts.”

Watching the exchange, Carrie hurried to set a place for Abel. As Carrie swiveled around to return to the kitchen to fill up a platter of pork chops, she saw Emma leaning over John Graber to pour lemonade into his glass. John was eagerly working his way through a pork chop and didn’t seem to notice her. She wondered if Abel had seen Emma fussing over John, but he was deep in conversation with Abraham about bolts. She could feel Sol’s eyes watching her, aware he noticed how she had tried to catch Abel’s eye, but she kept her gaze from meeting his.

As soon as the men and boys were finished, they returned to pick up their hammers. The volley of pounding began again as the women sat down to eat. Esther sat across from Emma and Carrie.

“So, where is Yonnie today?” Esther asked.

“She’s home, working on a quilt,” Emma replied.

Esther looked at Emma. “She should be coming to the quilting frolics.”

“She says she likes to quilt alone. Says it’s like praying to her,” Emma said, taking a bite of a pork chop. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and leaned forward on the bench, eyes shining. “She’s been teaching me all that she knows, all about combinations of colors. Her stitches are as tiny as baby teeth. And she doesn’t even use patterns, she just makes them up out of her head—”

“Lancaster Amish do not quilt like Ohio Amish,” Esther said. “And you would do well to remember the difference, Emma.”

Esther’s rebuke had the effect of dousing a candle. Emma’s smile faded; her neck drooped low as a cygnet’s. The brightness left her and her mouth tightened. Carrie had to look away.

What Esther was saying was right, Carrie had to admit. Lancaster was the first Amish settlement, and most of the church leaders clung tightly to traditions. As settlements spread throughout the Midwest, a willingness to change and adapt spread with them. Esther’s quilts were just like the Lancaster Amish, Carrie realized. Each one looked like the one before. Yonnie’s quilts, well, no two were alike. She brought combinations of colors and patterns together in ways no one could imagine.

Still, Carrie’s heart was touched with pity for Emma. Each night when she and Andy and Abel gathered after dinner—to read
The Budget
, or play Scrabble or Checkers—Yonnie and Emma would bend over the frame of a quilt. It was as if Yonnie was passing on all of her knowledge to Emma. Emma was a quick study too. The quilt they were making for Abel reminded Carrie of a kaleidoscope Andy had found once and brought home.

Andy ran up to Carrie and pulled on her elbow, whispering loudly enough to warrant a raised eyebrow from Esther. “Here comes that fancy red-haired lady.” He pointed to the driveway. A few of the teenaged boys who hadn’t been baptized dropped their hammers and hurried over to examine the car.

Carrie left her lunch and walked to meet Veronica. “Come to see the barn raising?”

“Abel invited me.”

Carrie raised her eyebrows. That didn’t sound quite right to her.

“Oh fine.” Veronica rolled her eyes. “I’m sure he would have if I had asked. Where is he?”

Carrie pointed to Abel’s figure, straddling a gable on the barn roof.

“Are you sure that’s him? They all look alike.”

“That’s him.”

They walked a little closer to the barn, smelling the sweet smell of fragrant pine.

“Isn’t it a sight to behold?” Carrie asked her. “To build a whole barn in a single day.” She pointed to the sides of the roof. “The framing is completed before the noon meal. And in the afternoon, the roofing is installed. That’s what Abel is working on now.”

Veronica squinted in the bright sunlight. “Nothing you people do is fast. Why in the world would you be building a barn in a day?”

“The point isn’t its haste, Veronica McCall. Wonderful things can happen when people work together. A barn raising is an amazing project of brotherly love.”

“Maybe I should hire them all to finish up Honor Mansion.” Veronica walked closer to the barn. “Abel! Abel! Yoo-hoo!” She waved up at Abel.

The staccato of hammers drowned out her shout, so she went back to her car.

As if in a dream where her feet were caught in quicksand, Carrie slowly realized what was about to unfold. She tried to stop Veronica, but it happened too quickly. Veronica leaned over the door of her car and honked the horn, then yelled out Abel’s name again and honked again. Startled, Abel turned, lost his balance, and slipped off the roof.

Abel’s fall was first broken by a beam, then by boards laid for the loft. Before others knew what had happened, Carrie ran into the barn and scrambled up a ladder, stepping carefully on the unnailed flooring. Abel lay crumbled on his side, moaning, one arm bent at a grotesque angle.

“We need to get him to the hospital,” Abraham said, peering at Abel from the top rung of the ladder. He turned to the crowd below and spotted Veronica. “Can you call for an ambulance?”

“I’ll drive him!” Veronica McCall yelled, standing among the Amish men and women. “It’ll be faster than an ambulance!”

Abel put his good hand on Carrie’s forearm. “Komm mit, bitte?”
Please, come?

Carrie nodded.

The men made a gurney to hoist Abel down to the ground and carried him to Veronica’s car. Carrie found Emma to tell her she was leaving, to make sure Andy got home. As she hurried to Veronica’s car, Sol stopped her. “I’ll come too, Carrie. I could help.”

The words spilled out before she could stop them. “Like you helped Daniel?” She shook his hand off of her arm and climbed into the passenger seat, avoiding the hurt in Sol’s eyes.

Abel’s body went stiff as he stifled a moan of pain, intensified by Veronica’s wild driving. It was as if she took aim to hit each pothole and bump in the road.

Sol watched Carrie leave with that Abel Miller, moaning like he was dying, the big baby. He wondered who the good-looking English woman with the sports car was. It bothered him to see that Carrie had a life filled with people he didn’t know. Discouraged, he went back to work on the roof with the other men and hammered shingles until the sun started sinking in the sky. When the men were satisfied the barn was watertight, they packed up their tools. Sol handed his tools and carpenter belt to his father. He wanted to leave quickly, before his mother cornered him, asking him to come home again. It wrenched his gut, the way she asked. Almost begging.

He walked down the street to catch a bus at the crossroads. He wished he had just driven his car. He worried it would stir up trouble, but no one would have even noticed, he decided. Crossing his arms against the wind, his mind drifted to Carrie. He had been looking forward to seeing her all week, as soon as his mother had written to him about the barn raising. But it didn’t go at all like he had hoped. He thought Carrie might be eager to see him, but she wasn’t. Her lips held in a thin tight line as she spoke to him, all three or four words. And then the cell phone went off! He frowned, rolling his eyes. He could still feel the measuring glances of the women as he spoke on the phone. And it was that Alicia girl!

Sol sighed, discouraged. He thought he and Carrie might be able to get back to where they were before. When he saw her today, he felt a sharp pain as he realized again how beautiful she was, how big those blue eyes were. He felt such a longing for her. But his relationship with Carrie had veered off course like a runaway horse and he didn’t know how to get it back on track.

Sol thought back to a conversation he had, a year or so ago, with Carrie’s father. He was shining a flashlight on Carrie’s bedroom window one night when Jacob Weaver surprised him.

Jacob was standing on the porch, watching him. “What’s on your mind, Solomon?”

Hardly anyone called him that, only Jacob Weaver. Sol always thought it was Jacob’s way of reminding him what his name represented. Sol decided to be frank with him. He turned off the flashlight and approached Jacob. “You know about Carrie and me.”

Jacob’s chin dropped, his bushy whiskers rested against his chest, as if he was thinking. He wasn’t a big man, but he had a way of making Sol feel small. He lifted his head, as if he had decided something. “I’m sorry, son. You ought not to be expecting my blessing.”

Sol looked at Jacob, shocked. “And why not? You’ve known me since I was a boy. What makes you think I’m not good enough for your Carrie?”

Jacob leaned on his hands against the porch railings, slowly gathering his thoughts. Finally, he said, “I’ve known you plenty long. That’s why I’m saying no.”

“What?!”

“As long as I’ve known you, at church and barn raisings and other gatherings, I’ve noticed that you always eat first, with the older men.”

Sol shrugged. “I worked hard. I was hungry.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you were. So were the other boys. But they waited, to show respect to the elders. Seems like a small thing, I know, but it’s more than that. It’s the reason behind it. You always think first about yourself.” Jacob shook his head. “I won’t let my daughter marry a man who takes care of himself first.”

Squarely meeting Jacob’s gaze, Sol said, “I would take good care of her.”

Jacob let his gaze slide away. “I’m sorry, Solomon.” After a moment he lifted his head. “But I don’t believe you would.” He turned to leave.

“Then who?” Sol asked him. “Who, Jacob? Who could be good enough for your Carrie?”

Jacob stopped, stood still for a moment, then walked into the house. This time, Sol let him go. By the way he squared his shoulders, Sol could tell that Jacob had someone else in mind for Carrie. He could also see that Jacob’s mind was made up.

That was the first time Sol started to think about leaving, with Carrie.

All of a sudden, he realized that at the barn raising today, he had eaten with the first shift of older men. He hadn’t even thought about it, he just grabbed an empty spot. He clapped his hand against his forehead, as if he had just proven Jacob’s point. But on its heels came a renewed vigor to win Carrie back.

To prove Jacob wrong.

A buggy clattered past him, then pulled over to the side of the road to stop. A capped head popped out of the buggy window. “Need some help, Sol?” Mattie shouted.

Oh, you don’t know the half of it!
he thought, as he broke into a jog to catch a ride with her.