Jan Drexler - The Prodigal Son Returns

When he looked up, her gaze was still on him, expectant, her blue eyes a sharp contrast to her brown dress. Even standing on a slight rise above him, her kapp barely reached the level of his chin, but he was defenseless.

“I’m sorry. I probably scared her as much as the horses did.”

This time he was sure her mouth twitched.

“Ja, probably.”

Then she did smile, lighting up her face in a way that would make those painted girls back in Chicago green with envy. Bram drew a deep breath. Who would have thought he’d find a beauty like this among these Plain people?

“Memmi,” the little girl said, “can I go find Grossmutti?”

“Ja, for sure.” The woman set the girl on the grass and watched her run to the back of the house.

Memmi? Bram’s thoughts did an about-face. She was married, a mother, and he had let himself get distracted by a pretty face, and an Amish one at that. He was here to buy a horse, nothing more.

“Is your husband around? I heard he had a horse for sale.”

The woman paused, the smile gone in a shadow. “I think you’re looking for my father. You’ll find him in the barn.”

Bram glanced toward the barn cellar door as she nodded toward it, but by the time he had turned to her again, she was halfway to the house. “Denki,” he called after her. She didn’t look back.

* * *

Ellie Miller fought the urge to run to the safety of the Dawdi Haus with four-year-old Susan, keeping her walk steady until she joined Mam at the clothesline behind the big house.

She had forgotten. An Englischer gave her a crooked grin, and she had forgotten about Daniel. How could something so innocent make her forget her own husband?

Something about that Englischer didn’t make sense...

Ach, he had spoken Deitsch. His suit and hat were Englisch for sure, with that bright yellow necktie, but where had he learned to speak Deitsch?

And that grin! Her breath caught at the whispery ache that wrapped around her chest. Daniel had smiled at her often, but without a mischievous dimple that winked at her. What was she doing even letting her mind remember that grin? He was just another Englischer.

Ellie pulled a shirt from the basket to hang on the line.

Ja, just another Englischer who spoke Deitsch and made her rebellious heart flip when he smiled.

“Who was that man you were talking to? If it was another tramp, there’s a piece of pie in the kitchen.” Mam’s voice drifted to her from the other side of the clothesline, where she was hanging the girls’ dresses.

“He wasn’t looking for food. He wanted to talk to Dat.” Ellie glanced at the barn, glad for Dat’s ease when it came to talking to outsiders. “There was something strange about him. He was wearing Englisch clothes, but he spoke Deitsch.”

Mam’s voice was calm, as if she heard Englischers speaking their language all the time. “Maybe he has some Amish friends and learned the language from them. Did he want to buy the gelding Dat has for sale?”

“What would he want with a horse?”

“I expect an Englischer might want a horse once in a while.” Mam pulled another dress out of the basket at her feet. “When I see them tear along the roads in those automobiles, I wonder why anyone would hurry that fast just to end up in a ditch.”

“Lovina’s neighbor only did that once.”

“Once is enough, isn’t it?” Mam pulled the loaded clothesline lower to look at Ellie. “A person can be in too much of a hurry at times. When do you have time to pray, or even think?”

“For sure, I’m glad the church decided to keep them verboten. Not only are they noisy, but they smell terrible. Next thing you know, all the Englisch will be buying them.”

“Ach, not until these hard times are over.”

Ellie sighed as she pinned one of her brother’s shirts on the line. Would these hard times ever be over?

“I like automobiles.” Susan’s voice was soft, hesitant.

Ellie looked down at her young daughter. Automobiles? What would she say next?

“Why do you say that?” Ellie shook out the next shirt with a snap.

Susan leaned closer to Ellie from where she squatted next to one-year-old Danny in the grass under the clothesline, her brown eyes wide in her heart-shaped face. “Because they aren’t horses.” Her words were a whisper as she glanced toward the Belgians waiting to be hitched to the manure spreader.

Ellie pushed the clothespins down firmly. When would Susan get over this fear? Daniel’s accident had changed everything.

At this thought, Ellie paused, grasping at the line to control the sudden shaking of her hands. Her mind filled again with the horses’ grunting whinnies, the stomping hooves, the smell of fear and blood, Daniel trapped against the barn wall and then falling under those huge hooves... Ellie’s stomach churned. That day had left an impression in Susan’s mind that affected her even now, months later. It still affected all of them.

Ellie shook her head to brush away the memories and shoved the final clothespin onto the last shirt. What was done was done. She might wish things were different, but her husband was dead. That was a truth she faced every day. She refused to succumb to the stifling blanket of grief that pushed at the edge of her mind, tempting her to sink into its seductive folds.

“All done, Mam. Do you want me to help take the clothes in this afternoon?”

“Ne, don’t bother. I’ll have the girls tend to it when they get home from school.”

“Come, sweeties.” Ellie lifted Danny in her arms while Susan hopped on one foot next to her. “Time to get our dinner started.”

Ellie crossed the drive to the worn path between the barn and the vegetable garden that led to the Dawdi Haus. The house her grandparents had lived in when she was a child had sheltered her little family during the months since Daniel’s death. Susan ran ahead of her along the lane, her earlier fright forgotten.

“Plan on eating supper with us tonight,” Mam called after her. “I’m fixing a chicken casserole, and there’s plenty for all.”

“Ja, for sure,” Ellie called back, then turned her attention to Danny, who was squirming to get out of her arms. “Sit still there, young man.” She laughed at the determined expression on his face as she followed Susan.

Ellie watched the little girl skipping ahead, but her mind was full of a queer anticipation. It was as if her birthday was coming or the wild freshness of the first warm air of spring, pushing back the dark clouds of winter....

That Englischer’s grin, that was what brought this on. It did something to her, and she frowned at this thought. It didn’t matter what an Englischer did, no matter how blue his eyes were.

That grin held a secret. What was he thinking when he looked at her?

She hitched Danny up as the thought of what might have been going through his head came to her. Ach, why did an Englischer’s wicked-looking grin give her such a delicious feeling at the memory of it?

Dat and the stranger stood on the threshing floor between the open barn doors, where the fresh air and light were plentiful, but Ellie kept her eyes on the edge of the garden as she hurried to follow Susan. If she glanced their way, would she see that dimple flash as he grinned at her again?

She had to stop thinking about him. He would talk to Dat and then be gone, and she’d never see him again, for sure.

In the backyard of the Dawdi Haus, Ellie paused to pass her hand along a pair of her oldest son’s trousers. Dry already. She’d bring in the laundry before fixing the children’s dinner. After she put the little ones down for their naps, she could iron in the quiet time before Johnny, her scholar, came home. She smiled, anticipating the quiet hour or so in the shaded house, alone with her thoughts.