Authors: Wanda E Brunstetter
“I don’t see why we can’t walk to school today,” Mattie grumbled as she and Mark took their bicycle out of the barn the following Friday morning.
“Mom says we need to practice,” he replied. “Besides, we can get there quicker riding than walking.”
“Well, if we have to go to school on the bike, then I want to ride up front.”
“You rode up front the last time, and you drove so
narrisch
the bike almost fell over,” Mark reminded.
Mattie shook her head. “I didn’t drive crazy.”
“Jah, you did. You were swerving all over the place, just like a crooked snake.”
“I was not.”
“Were, too.”
“Was not.”
Mark pointed to the back of the bicycle. “Just get on and don’t be so divergent.”
Mattie put her hands against her hips and frowned. “Would you please stop using words I don’t know?”
“Divergent means ‘contrary,’” Mark said.
“I’m not contrary. I just don’t think you should get your way all the time. If you’ll remember, I let you put your frog house in my garden, but I don’t see why I have to do everything you ask.”
“Fine then. We’ll go back in the house and talk to Mom about this.”
Mattie knew if they did that, Mom would tell them to stop arguing, work it out, and get to school. She also knew if they didn’t leave now they’d be late. So reluctantly she climbed onto the back of the bike while Mark took his seat at the front.
As they rode along the trail near the road, Mattie didn’t say much. Instead, she focused on the leaves on the trees that were beginning to slowly change color. It wouldn’t be long before they fell off the trees, and then Mattie and Mark could play in the leaves they would pile up after raking them first.
Mattie sniffed the air. It was crisp—like the spicy scent of pine. She also noticed it was the first morning she could see her breath in the air. Apple-picking time was just around the corner, and then Dad would make sweet cider using the apples from the tree in their backyard. Mattie’s mouth watered. She could almost taste the juicy liquid trickling down her throat.
“What are you doing back there?” Mark hollered over his shoulder. “You’re not pedaling, and you can’t expect me to do all the work up here.”
“I am so pedaling!”
“No, you’re not.”
Mattie started pedaling real hard—so hard that her legs began to ache. “There, is that fast enough for you?”
“Now you’re pedaling too hard!” Mark shouted. “I can’t steer right if we’re going too fast.”
The bike wobbled, and Mattie screamed. She was sure she was going to fall off.
Mark kept going until Mattie quit pedaling. When they started up a hill, he had to stop. That was when Mattie hopped off.
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you helping me pedal?”
“I’m not going to ride this bike anymore. I’m walking the rest of the way to school.”
Mattie grabbed her schoolbooks from the basket and hurried off. She could hear Mark huffing and puffing behind her as he pedaled by himself.
Mark gripped the handlebars as he tried to pedal the bike alone. It wasn’t easy without Mattie, and he wished she was still behind him helping right now. But no, she’d taken the shortcut to school through the Hostetlers’s cornfield, leaving Mark to fend for himself.
Mark huffed and puffed awhile longer and finally got off the bike, pushing it the rest of the way to school. He’d just entered the schoolyard when the teacher rang the bell, so he quickly parked the bike and hurried up the porch steps, taking them two at a time. When he entered the schoolhouse, he saw Mattie putting her jacket and lunch pail away. He was tempted to say something to her, but he didn’t want to talk about it in front of the other scholars. So he put his lunch pail away, hung his straw hat on a wall peg, and took a seat at his desk.
Their teacher began the day as usual, by reading several verses of scripture from the Bible to the class, and then after the Lord’s Prayer had been said, everyone filed to the front of the room to sing a few songs. Next, grades three to eight were given their arithmetic assignments, which the teacher wrote on the blackboard. While they worked on that, the first and second graders had a lesson in phonics.
Mark listened to Anna Ruth help one of the younger girls for a while; then he watched a second-grade boy use his fingers to count.
He finally pulled his gaze away from the boy, knowing he needed to get busy doing the work on his desk. He wasn’t as good at arithmetic as he was spelling, but by studying hard and not daydreaming like Mattie always did he usually managed to do well on most of his arithmetic tests.
Before Anna Ruth dismissed the class for lunch at noon, the scholars lined up by the sink to wash their hands. Ordinarily, most of the scholars ate their lunches outside, but since it had started to rain a short time ago, everyone ate at their desks today. Afterward, they played some indoor games, which Mark thought was great.
By the time school was over, it was raining so hard that huge puddles had formed all over the ground. After the way Mattie had acted earlier, Mark figured he’d be stuck riding the bike home by himself, but he was surprised when she climbed onto the back and said, “Let’s hurry home so we don’t get too wet!”
Mark and Mattie did fairly well as they pedaled up the first hill, but when they started down the other side, they were moving too fast, and it was hard to control the bike.
“Use your brake, Mattie. Use your brake!” Mark shouted.
“I am!” she hollered.
“No, you’re not! We’re going way too fast!”
The bike slowed some, but then it started to wobble. Mark gripped the handlebars tightly and gritted his teeth. In his determination to get control of the bike, he wasn’t watching where they were going. The next thing he knew, they’d ridden into the middle of a huge mud puddle. Water sprayed in every direction, soaking their feet.
“I’m getting wet!” Mattie screamed in Mark’s ear.
“I know … me, too!”
Suddenly, the bike tipped to the right; then it wobbled to the left. Mark slipped off, and Mattie fell, too. They landed in the murkiest part of the puddle!
Mattie clambered to her feet and stared down at her dress with a scowl. “Ugh! I’m a mess!”
Suddenly, Mattie’s frown turned upside down, and she stared to laugh as she pointed at the muddy water dripping off Mark’s hat and onto his nose. “It looks like we both took a mud bath,” she said.
Mark chuckled, too. “Jah, we sure did!”
The following Saturday, after Mattie helped Mom cut up apples for the pies she planned to bake, she cleaned her room, and then carried a bucket of water across the yard to give Twinkles.
She was almost to the dog pen when—
smack!—a
bright red apple hit her arm. Water splashed out of the bucket, soaking Mattie’s dress.
“Hey!” She whirled around and saw Mark near the apple tree.
“Sorry,” Mark said. “I was tossing the rotten apples into the field for the cows, and didn’t expect anyone to get in the way. Guess I should’ve been watchin’ closer.”
“Well, please be more careful from now on. Maybe you should put all the rotten apples in the wheelbarrow and push it next to the fence. Then you can drop the apples into the field for the cows.”
Mark smiled. “Good idea!”
As Mark headed for the barn to get the wheelbarrow, Mattie hurried to the dog pen. She’d just finished giving Twinkles some water when Mom stepped onto the porch and called for her to come.
When Mattie entered the house a few minutes later, she found Mom lying on the sofa with a wet washcloth over her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Mattie asked. “Are you grank?”
Mom removed the washcloth, and a large crease formed across her forehead as she squinted. “I’m not sick, but I do have a
koppweh
.“
“I’m sorry you have a headache. Do you need me to do anything for you?”
Mom nodded slowly. “I was hoping you and Mark could ride over to the store in Walnut Creek and get me some aspirin.”
“On our bicycle built for two?”
“Jah. That would be much faster than walking.”
After the way things had gone all week with her and Mark and their bicycle built for two, Mattie didn’t want to go anywhere with him. But she knew Mom needed the aspirin for her headache, so she smiled and said, “Okay, we’ll go.”
Mark’s legs ached as he and Mattie left the store. He’d done most of the pedaling on the way there, because Mattie kept forgetting to pedal and wanted to talk about the pretty colored leaves scattered along the edge of the road and the birds singing in the trees overhead. Mark hoped their ride home would go better, but figured Mattie probably wouldn’t cooperate then, either.
On the way back from Walnut Creek, they rode in silence for a while, and then as they neared the schoolhouse, Mattie stopped pedaling.
“Keep your legs moving,” Mark said. “We’ll never get home if you don’t help me pedal.”
“I see some of our friends are over there playing ball,” she said excitedly. “Let’s stop and say hello.”
“Huh-uh.”
“Why not?”
“They might want us to play ball, and we don’t have time for that. We’ve got to get the aspirin home to Mom, remember?” Truth was, that wasn’t the only reason Mark didn’t want to stop. He was worried that he might get stuck playing ball, and then if he did something dumb and messed up, everyone would make fun of him.
Mattie tapped Mark on the shoulder. “I just want to stop a few minutes so I can talk to Stella.”
“Okay, but I’m not going to play ball.” Mark stopped the bicycle near the ball field, and they both got off. While Mark parked the bike, Mattie raced over to Stella, who stood off to the side with some other girls, watching the game. Mark leaned on the wooden fence and watched his friend John, who was up to bat. He was glad no one had pushed the issue of him playing ball today. He got tired of the other boys making fun of him. His failure at playing the game well gave the guys more reason to call him names. He tried hard to hide it, but the nicknames really did hurt his feelings.
Mark had to admit, Mattie always came to his rescue, although that embarrassed him, too. She’d been teased a time or two about her red hair as well, but it didn’t seem to bother her, so the other kids didn’t waste their time taunting Mattie anymore. And they backed off quickly when she stood up for Mark, but he still wished she wouldn’t defend him.