Patricia Davids - An Amish Christmas Journey

The driver got in. “Are we ready?”

A general murmur of consent was enough for him. “Okeydokey. I’ve been told that Mr. Barkman can’t ride more than an hour without stopping. We will stop for lunch at a little place I know in Van Wert about an hour from now. Then, I’ll drop the Coblentz family just south of there in Ohio City and we’ll get back on the road to Hope Springs, Ohio. That’s my plan. Mr. Barkman, are you doing okay?”

“No one cares so let’s get going.”

The driver turned in his seat. “Sir, if you’re not feeling well we should inform the hospital staff right away.”

“I’m good enough. I’d rather die on the road than go back inside this poor excuse for a hospital. Drive on.”

Arles shrugged. “All right. Mr. Yoder, is your sister doing okay?”

“She is, danki. ”

“Good. We have one stop at the pharmacy to make and then we’ll be on the road.”

They left the hospital behind, and Mr. Hooper maneuvered the van skillfully through the city traffic. He stopped at the pharmacy the nurse had suggested. Greta had to pass by everyone to get out of the van. She was aware of the covert looks cast her way but decided to ignore them. It was useless to protest now.

After she returned with her uncle’s pills, Mr. Hooper soon had them out on the highway heading east. A few minutes later Greta’s seatmate asked, “Do you have enough room?”

“Am I crowding you?” She scooted away from him another inch. She had been so wrapped up in her humiliation that she had failed to pay attention to her surroundings.

She glanced at the girl beside him. “Is your sister comfortable?”

“I think she’s asleep.”

“Has she been sick long?”

“She was injured in a house fire two months ago. She suffered smoke inhalation and burns to her head and neck.”

“How terrible.”

“Her lungs were damaged by the smoke. She was on the ventilator for several weeks which is why her voice is so weak. God in His mercy saw fit to save her, and I’m grateful. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

She heard the sadness in his voice. “A fire is such a terrible thing. Was anyone else in your family hurt?”

“My parents perished.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry.”

“Has your uncle been ill long?”

Greta looked out the window. “A few weeks. He had a heart attack. I will tell you because I know you are wondering and you have been kind. My sisters and I left our uncle’s church here in Indiana under difficult circumstances. If the church placed us in the Bann, this is the first I have heard about it. We have been accepted into an Old Order congregation in Hope Springs, Ohio, where we live with our grandfather. I am a member of good standing in that community although I have not yet taken my vows.”

Morris had been listening. He turned in his seat. “Does your bishop know he harbors such an unchristian family of snakes to his bosom? Does he know your grandfather set his dog on me? I still have the scars. I will make it clear you are not fit to be members when I meet your bishop.”

Greta wanted to vanish. She wanted to crawl inside herself. She wasn’t brave the way Lizzie was brave. What would Lizzie do? She would stand up to him. She wouldn’t accept this humiliation.

No, she wouldn’t.

Greta raised her chin. She wasn’t bold, but she knew what Lizzie would say. “Bishop Zook knows our story well, Onkel. I think you are the one he will be keeping an eye on. But why are we talking about unchristian behavior? Forgiveness is God’s command to us.”

Morris muttered something again, but Greta couldn’t hear what it was. He turned his back on her. She clamped her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling. She had spoken back to him for the first time in her life.

It was empowering to speak her mind. She didn’t have to be bullied by him on this trip. No one here knew her or cared how she behaved. So what if they thought she was disrespectful. They didn’t know the truth.

Greta glanced at Toby and found him watching her closely. She quickly looked down. She was not behaving as a humble maiden should. He must think her very brazen.

“Did your grandfather really sic the dog on your uncle?” The raspy whisper came from Toby’s sister as she sat up. She held her bonnet pulled forward to cover the left side of her face.

Greta shook her head and whispered back, “No one set the dog on him. Onkel Morris doesn’t like dogs and our dog, Duncan, didn’t like him. Duncan thought he was protecting us.”

Marianne said, “Animals know if people are nice or not.”

Greta smiled. The child was so right. Leaning forward, Greta winked at her. “I agree. Duncan is an excellent judge of character.”

* * *

Toby watched in amazement as his sister smiled at their seatmate and giggled. It was a tiny gurgle more than a giggle, but it was the most emotion he’d seen from her since the fire.

A great weight lifted off his chest. Until this moment, he hadn’t been aware of the pressure. The glimpse of the girl she used to be filled his heart with joy.

Had leaving the hospital triggered this improvement, or was it the infectious smile of their new traveling companion? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Either way, he was relieved to see this small sign of progress.

“My name is Greta Barkman,” she told his sister.

“I’m Marianne.”

“And I’m Toby Yoder,” he added.

“It’s nice to meet you both. Do you have a dog, Marianne?” Greta asked.

His sister shook her head. Toby read the regret in the turned-down corners of her mouth. He said, “We may have to look into getting one.”

Marianne’s eyes brightened, but then she shook her head and leaned away from him.

He said, “I know we won’t be able to keep a dog at our aunt’s house. She doesn’t like dogs, but we’ll have our own home again someday. When we do, we will get a dog. I promise.”

She sighed deeply but didn’t say anything else. Greta sat back and turned to look out the window. It seemed her friendliness was reserved for his sister. After a few minutes, she opened her bag and pulled out a wooden hoop with a length of white fabric secured in it. Half the circle was filled with blue cross-stitched flowers. Deftly, she began creating another row.

He tried to focus on the passing scenery. It wasn’t often he had the chance to ride in a car. It was amazing how quickly the farms and fields slipped behind them. Empty fields waiting for spring to bring back the green. Red barns and occasional blue road signs were the only bright colors besides the blue sky. Toby soon grew bored with the winter landscape and began watching Greta again.

She had her circle completed in no time. Loosening the hoop, she withdrew her fabric and replaced it with a fresh square from her bag. Marianne shifted on her seat, and he glanced her way. She was leaning forward to watch Greta work, too. It wasn’t long before Greta noticed.

“Do you cross-stitch?”

Toby touched his chest. “Me? Sure.”

A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “It’s an unusual pastime for a man.”

“I would call it a learning experience. I remember my first as if it were yesterday.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“He’s doesn’t know how,” Marianne whispered.

“That’s what you think, little sister. Grandmother taught me to do it when I was your age.”

He could see Marianne didn’t believe him. He had trouble keeping a straight face. “It’s true. She made me sit in the corner and fill her hoop with one phrase over and over again. Her hoop was much bigger than yours, Greta.”

“And what was that phrase?” Greta asked.