Kate’s Song Page 3

  A knock at the back door interrupted the conversation. “Who now?” Mamma said as she rose. She opened the door and then threw out her arms in welcome. “Look who is here,” she exclaimed as she pulled a smiling Nathaniel King into the room.

  Kate’s heart did a single somersault before settling into a rapid thudding in her chest. Remembering how he was once the boy with cooties who’d kissed her on the playground, she felt her face get hot. Remembering the feel of his hand on her cheek earlier in the day, she felt her face get even hotter.

  “Ach, I am sorry to interrupt,” Nathaniel said, removing his hat and still grinning widely. “I thought supper would be over.”

  “Do not be uneasy, Nathaniel,” Mamma said. “With all the goings-on today, we started supper almost an hour late.”

  “I brought some tea and ointment for Kate,” Nathaniel said. Looking at her, he seemed to flush as red as Kate imagined herself to be. “How are you feeling?”

  Kate brought her hand to her cheek self-consciously. “I am better.”

  Mamma pulled Nathaniel farther into the kitchen and removed the sack slung over his shoulder. “Cum, cum. You must have some snitz pie with us. It is from the last of the dried apples. You’d think with fifty acres of apple trees I would have dried more fruit last fall.”

  “No, denki. I do not want to pester you.”

  “You don’t like my snitz pie?” Mamma said with a pout and a twinkle in her eye.

  “Jah, of course, Emma. You are the best cook in Wisconsin,” Nathaniel said.

  “Then cum, sit,” Mamma insisted, pulling another chair up to the already crowded table and directing Nathaniel to it. Sheepishly, Nathaniel slipped into the chair at the corner of the table across from Kate, crammed nicely next to Zeb and Anna.

  In unison, Kate, Mary, and Mamma went to the long counter to cut and serve the pie. Kate gave her mother a meaningful look and pointed silently to her lip. Mamma only giggled and plopped a dollop of whipped cream onto one of the pie slices.

  Once they served the pie, Mary, Mamma, and Kate sat down again to eat. Kate’s return to the table seemed to remind Aaron of his duty to call her to repentance. And Nathaniel’s presence did not deter him.

  “Nathaniel,” Aaron said, “you are of marriageable age. What do you seek in a worthy wife?”

  Never losing that enchanting smile, Nathaniel said, “Do you know someone you want me to meet?”

  Kate pulled her eyes from him and stared faithfully at the piece of pie in front of her. Why did Aaron have to stir things up?

  “I have been telling Kate that a man does not want a wife who flirts with the temptations of the world,” Aaron said.

  Ada fixed her gaze on Nathaniel as if he were the only person at the table. “My sister Sarah would never dream of turning her back on our ways. She is nothing but completely faithful.”

  Embarrassed that Nathaniel should be witness to such a kerfuffle, Kate tried to defend herself and put the matter to rest. “You know that I have always tried to understand and follow God’s will.”

  “You cannot just do what you want and call it God’s will,” Aaron said. “Every time you go back to Milwaukee, you pull yourself further and further from us. Soon you will think we are too plain, and you will look to the world for your salvation. It is not the way, Kate.”

  Kate fell silent and let Aaron sermonize to his heart’s content. She dared a look at Nathaniel. He ate his snitz pie, but the smile had disappeared from his face.

  Aaron was just getting started. “‘Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate.’ That is our way. ‘Touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you.’”

  “You are quick to judge, Aaron,” Ike said. “Kate knows all that. She is not yet baptized. She is searching. That is what rumschpringe is for.”

  “And when will she be baptized?” Aaron asked. “The rumschpringe cannot go on indefinitely. It is high time she makes her covenant to the Church and God.”

  Kate could feel the discomfort growing. Mary and Mamma kept glancing at each other in dismay. And Anna, while never taking her eyes off her plate, seemed genuinely distressed.

  Ike and Aaron continued to trade Scriptures and debate Kate’s readiness for baptism, but Kate hardly listened. Instead, she ate her pie, intensely aware of Nathaniel sitting a few feet from her. As Aaron continued to preach, Ike’s boy, Elias, came to the table wanting a cup of water. Nathaniel grabbed the pitcher, took Elias’s empty cup, and set it on the table. “Say when,” he instructed.

  When the cup was half full, Elias said, “That is all, denki.” Nathaniel kept pouring.

  “Stop,” Elias said a little louder. Still Nathaniel poured water into his cup.

  The giggles bubbled from Elias throat. “Stop!” he repeated, almost yelling but not loud enough to interrupt Onkel Aaron.

  Nathaniel smiled mischievously. “You didn’t say ‘when.’”

  Just as the water reached the lip of the cup, Elias screamed, “When!”

  The noise stalled Aaron for a second, but he simply glanced Elias’s way and went right on talking.

  Nathaniel set the pitcher on the table, and Elias laughed with glee. Taking it carefully by the handle, Elias sucked some water from the brimming cup and slowly carried it back to his chair. Passing two of his cousins, he showed them his cup. “I didn’t say ‘when,’” he said, beaming. “I didn’t say ‘when.’”

  After the children finished with their dessert, they took turns at the sink washing their dishes and then clomped up the steep stairs to play. Without a word, Mary’s three-year-old daughter, Sadie, came close to Nathaniel and held out her arms to him. Nathaniel bent over and slipped Sadie onto his lap. Sitting on her perch like she were the most important person in the world, Sadie patted Nathaniel’s face and played with one of his ears.

  Giddy, one of Aaron’s little boys, sidled up beside Nathaniel and patted his leg. Nathaniel steadied Sadie with one arm, and then, making a fist, he gently squeezed Giddy’s nose between his index and middle knuckles. He pulled his hand away and put his thumb between his fingers where Giddy’s nose had been.

  “I’ve got your nose,” Nathaniel said.

  Giddy opened his mouth as wide as a fish’s and felt his face.

  Nathaniel touched his thumb to Giddy’s nose and opened his hand. “Don’t worry, now. I put it back.”

  Kate grinned at little Giddy’s puzzled expression. He lifted his arms to Nathaniel, who scooped up the boy and sat him next to Sadie in his lap.

  “Look how sweet,” Mary whispered. But Kate was already charmed by the sight.

  As Sadie traced her small fingers around Nathaniel’s palm, his eyes caught Kate’s. She smiled and then looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

  Aaron then spoke directly to her, and she couldn’t very well ignore him. “I always knew, Katie, that your vanity would be your stumbling block. You have a beautiful voice to sing praises to God, but you are proud. You want to show off. This is false pride. Am I not right, Zeb?”

  Zeb shook his head. “You weary us with too much talking.”

  Aaron grunted and pushed his plate away. “You know I am right. If Katie will do as I say, she will walk with the Lord in heaven. Humble yourself, Katie, and quit these foolish, worldly ways.” Sensing the tension in the room, he wound down. “I only say this because I am your brother and I am concerned for your salvation,” he murmured resentfully.

  Nathaniel lifted the two children off his lap and set them on their feet. He stood and looked Aaron squarely in the eye. “I have learned much from you this evening, Aaron,” he said stiffly. “I can tell you have spent a great deal of time perfecting your doctrine. But I trust that Kate will follow God’s way and not Aaron’s way.”

  Aaron stared at Nathaniel in surprise. “Of course,” he sputtered. “I do not follow my own way. Only God’s.”

  Kate’s heart all but burst with gratitude. She nodded a silent thankyou to Nathaniel. He smiled back.

  “May
we all do so,” Ike said.

  “I will go now,” Nathaniel said, addressing Mamma. “Thank you for the pie. Manna from heaven could not have tasted better.”

  Mamma stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “Ach, no flattery. You tempt me to be prideful.”

  Elmer sat at the otherwise-empty children’s table, eating his third piece of pie. “Good-bye, Nathaniel,” he said. “Come see us again.”

  Donning his hat, Nathaniel looked once more in Kate’s direction. “I will, Lord willing. No doubt about it.”

  * * * * *

  Nathaniel bounded off the Weavers’ front porch so light he thought he might fly home. Someone called his name, and he turned to see Aaron standing with both hands on the railing, staring at him.

  “You like my sister?” Aaron said, more an accusation than a question.

  “Why do you ask?” Nathaniel said.

  “Do not hope for much. When September comes, she will go back to the school. Just wait and see if she doesn’t.”

  “Then I have almost five months to change her mind.”

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Elmer,” Kate said as her brother guided the buggy into place behind what seemed like a hundred buggies parked in the lane.

  Elmer secured the reins and straightened his bow tie. “How else are you going to find a husband if you don’t go to youth group?”

  “The girls are so much younger,” Kate protested, “and many of the boys too. I feel like an old mule among the colts.”

  Elmer made a face. “You have the strangest notions.” He jumped from the buggy and came to the other side to help Kate down. “There are many boys and girls your age. Don’t think you will stand out. You are just another girl come to the singeon, like everybody else.”

  Even at three years younger, her brother was often more sensible than Kate in the Amish ways. At the academy, Kate was accustomed to fighting for the attention of the instructors, making sure they noticed her above all other students. But the Plain People frowned on uniqueness and self-promotion. Individuals were discouraged from attracting attention. That is why, after much pondering and prayer, Kate had decided to leave home for the academy. In an Amish community, her voice would never be heard.

  Kate adjusted her kapp while Elmer threw her shawl over her shoulders.

  “The cousins might be here,” Elmer added, draping his arm around Kate’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It will be fun.”

  She saw the warmth in his eyes and tucked herself under his arm. “I’ll stick with you. You are all the entertainment I need.”

  “I want to take Ellie Zook home tonight. Can you find another ride?”

  Kate pushed away from Elmer. “I thought you were going to watch out for me.”

  “Why would I want to hang around you? You look like someone who gets in a lot of fights.”

  Kate cuffed her brother on the shoulder.

  Almost two weeks had passed since her homecoming, and her lip had gradually shrunk to its normal size. The black around her eye had faded to a light yellow and would be barely noticeable in the dim light of the Yoders’ barn.

  Word of her violent encounter had spread throughout the community like a stiff breeze spreading dandelion seeds. Kate’s first days home were filled with a variety of visitors who stopped by with pies or breads or embroidered hankies to help Kate feel better. The Plain People sought always to be compassionate. Two or three of the families were bound to say unkind things out of Kate’s hearing, but most people avoided gossip and tried to be charitable.

  John Yoder’s barn was the largest in the district, perfect for singings and wedding parties. Young people in buggies arrived from every direction, the boys in vibrantly colored cotton shirts with black bow ties and suspenders and the girls in dazzling white kapps and black aprons. The floor was swept clean and the lanterns turned up their brightest.

  As she ambled into the barn with her brother, Kate studied the hopeful faces of the wide-eyed teenage girls and the nervous, stoic young men. She recognized many of them but knew that few close friends would be there. Kate’s two best friends from the one-room school were now married with families of their own.

  Elmer scanned the eager faces. “Ah, there he is,” he said. “Wait here, Katie. I will be back.”

  Elmer strode away, leaving Kate standing in the middle of the barn all by herself. As she surveyed her surroundings, she became aware of many of the boys staring at her. She put her hand to her forehead. Was the fading bruise around her eye that noticeable?

  Looking to retreat to an inconspicuous corner, Kate noticed Sarah Schwartz, the bishop’s daughter and Aaron’s sister-in-law, standing with some friends. Sarah, a tall, pretty girl of nineteen, had never been un-neighborly to Kate, but neither had she gone out of her way to be a friend. Kate caught her eye, and Sarah acknowledged her with a plastered smile before she whispered something to her companions and they turned and walked in the opposite direction.

  “Kate!” Two girls, wide-eyed and beaming, practically tackled her in their excitement.

  Kate gave both of them pecks on the cheek. “I hoped I’d see you tonight.”

  Cousin Miriam Bontrager wrapped her arm around Kate’s neck and studied her face. “I don’t see no bruises. Well, I guess a little around the eye. I’m sorry I haven’t come earlier to visit you. Two little brothers had the flu, and I needed to help Mamm.”

  The other cousin, Rebecca Miller, tucked an errant lock of hair under her kapp. “I wanted to see you something awful, but Fater said the buggy could not be spared. But Mamm practically begs me to go to the gatherings, so she let me come.”

  “Is your mamm still feeling poorly, Rebecca?” Kate said.

  “She is taking some new medication that might help.”

  “And are you still working for Mrs. Johnson?”

  Rebecca nodded. “She is grumpy as ever, but she sleeps most of the day.”

  Miriam leaned forward like she had a big secret. “Rebecca got a cell phone.”

  Rebecca shrugged her shoulders. “I am in rumschpringe.”

  “Do you have anyone to call?” Kate asked.

  Rebecca smiled but lowered her eyes. “A few people. Mamm’s not happy, but I can pay for it.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, Joe Bieler bought a car. His parents are fit to be tied, but then parents will always find something to worry about.”

  Kate sighed. She knew a little of giving her parents something to worry about. “And you, Miriam. Are you and Ephraim engaged yet?”

  Miriam stifled a giggle. “We promised ourselves to each other like as not five years ago.”

  “Miriam Bontrager,” Rebecca scolded. “Does your dat know?”

  “Of course he knows. Ephraim is the minister’s son. Dat loves the idea.”

  Rebecca winked at Kate. Miriam, like Aaron and Ada, thought that a relationship to one of the elders lent her added importance. Or maybe it was just Miriam’s dat who felt that way. Miriam and Ephraim had seemed destined for each other long before the lot fell to Ephraim’s dat to be minister.

  “Will there be a wedding this November?” Kate said.

  “No, I’m eighteen yet. Hopefully next year.”

  “What about you, Rebecca?” Kate said. “Any interesting boys?”

  Rebecca grimaced. “Who wants a husband?”

  Elmer returned as suddenly as he had departed, with Nathaniel King following close behind. Nathaniel greeted Kate warmly, wearing the wide smile that almost seemed to be a permanent part of his face. Her cousins exchanged significant looks and backed away slightly. Kate was surprised by how overjoyed, how lightheaded, she felt upon seeing Nathaniel again.

  In two years, none of the young men in Milwaukee ferhoodled Kate like Nathaniel had managed to do in the last two weeks. Many college boys sought girls who would trade their virtue like candy. Kate was perfectly aware of what went on between Englisch boys and girls. The girls willingly tarnished their honor for what they thought was love. B
ut what they got from those boys was counterfeit affection. Nathaniel stood in stark contrast to what she had seen of the world.

  “You look gute,” Nathaniel said. “No bruises left. No swelling on the lip.”

  “Denki,” Kate said. “Do you know my cousins, Miriam Bontrager and Rebecca Miller?”

  Nathaniel vigorously shook hands with both cousins. “Jah, of course.”

  Rebecca grabbed Miriam’s elbow and tugged her away. “We will talk to you after, Kate.”

  Elmer nodded to Nathaniel and then, for no reason at all, sauntered after the cousins.

  Nathaniel nodded back then turned to Kate. “Your smile just about knocks me down every time I see it. Better than you sticking your tongue out every time you laid eyes on me.”

  Kate felt her face flush. “For a girl of eleven years old, that kiss was a grievous offense, Nathaniel King. Anna and Linda would not play with me for days because they said you gave me cooties.”

  “You did sock me a good one,” he said, chuckling and rubbing his jaw as if still feeling the blow.

  “You deserved worse.”

  Nathaniel stroked the stubble on his chin seemingly deep in thought. “I paid dearly for my transgression. You do not know how painful it was to be out of your good graces.”

  She would have truly felt bad about how she had behaved, except she could tell he was teasing. “Gute. Then you have learned your lesson.”

  “Jah, I have. I will never kiss you on the playground again.”

  Kate studied his face suspiciously. He sounded like he had every intention of trying it again—somewhere else.

  “I am glad you have come,” Nathaniel said. “Elmer claims he had to drag you out of the house. Do you not like the singings anymore?”

  “Oh, jah, I love to sing. I just feel I am too old.”

  Nathaniel threw back his head and laughed. “I saw the eyes turn to you when you walked in, Kate Weaver. Your ripe old age does not seem to discourage anyone.”

  Kate had started to make an adamant denial of that nonsense when John Yoder climbed on a chair and called the gathering to prayer. Following the blessing, John invited everyone to sit at three long tables. Those who did not fit at the tables squeezed next to each other on bales of hay. Somehow Nathaniel managed to sit directly across from Kate at the table.