A Simple Song (12 page)

By Monday morning, Katrina was having serious second thoughts. Why had she agreed to go to Hollywood? And a film crew visiting their settlement? That was a disaster just waiting to happen.

“Are you all right?” Bekka asked with concern as they rode down in the elevator, thankfully for the last time. “You seem awfully quiet this morning.”

“I think I made a mistake,” she mumbled as they exited the elevator.

“Did you forget something?”

“Just that I'm Amish.” Katrina looked over to the desk where she'd paid for their room three days ago. “I need to go see if I can have my hundred dollars back.”

“
Ja
. I nearly forgot about that.” She took Katrina's bag. “I'll hold this for you.”

Katrina went over to where only one man was waiting in line, perhaps because it was early. It seemed city people didn't get up early. Certainly that would be difficult considering how late they seemed to stay up. She'd heard people cavorting up and down the hallway until after two in the morning.

“May I help you?”

Katrina went to the desk, where a man in a white shirt and a tie was waiting to help her. She pulled out the papers the other woman had given her, telling him her name and room number. “The woman who took my money promised I could have one hundred dollars back when we left. We didn't open the minibar and we didn't take anything. I promise you.”

The man chuckled. “Well, if you did, we'd know it.”

“Oh . . .”

She waited as he clicked on his keyboard. Then he handed her back a paper and counted out five twenties for her. She almost asked where her one-hundred-dollar bill had gone but stopped herself.

“Wait,” he said. “I see a note here that you have something else.”

“Something else?”

“Yes. We left a message on your phone, but you must not have seen the light flashing.”

“Oh, the red light going off and on. We saw it.”

He grinned. “That was your message to pick something up down here. I'll see if I can find it.”

A minute or two later he returned with an envelope and handed it to her. She looked at the outside, which had the hotel's name on it. “From the hotel?” she said.

“I heard that it was from Jack Smack,” he said quietly. “From
American Star
.”

She blinked. “Jack Smack.”

He looked eagerly at her, as if he wanted her to open it and read it to him. “Thank you,” she said. Then she hurried back to Bekka, waving the envelope. “Jack Smack wrote me a letter.”

“Really?” Bekka peered at it. “Well, maybe you should read it in the taxi. We need to hurry if we want to catch the 8:40 bus.”

Once in the taxi, Katrina opened the envelope and pulled out the note.

Dear Katrina,

I should have said something to you after your audition, but I was pretty blown away when I heard about your grandma. Anyway, this really good buddy of mine, Larry Zimmerman, was part of Willow Tree with your grandma. He lives out in LA. I'd like to invite him to meet up with you when you're in Hollywood. I know it would mean a lot to him.

Hang in there, kiddo,

Jack Smack

“Katrina!” Bekka exclaimed. “Can you believe that?”

Katrina read the letter again. “That's amazing.”

“It almost seems like it's your destiny to do this,” Bekka said in a serious tone.

“What does that mean?”

“I heard that line in a movie on the computer once. Like maybe this is something your mammi wanted you to do. Don't you think so too?”

“It is strange.” Katrina watched out the window as cars and buildings and people flashed by. Such a big, busy place. She would not miss it. But would Hollywood be any different? Was she really going there?

“Will you be able to come to Hollywood with me, do you think? In July?”

“Oh, Katrina, you know I wish I could. But I doubt Mamm and Daed will let me. Just getting away for these three days was hard enough. You'll be out in Hollywood for weeks.”

“For weeks?”

“Ja.”
She sighed. “I should've told you.”

“
Ja
, you should've.”

“I think I was just caught up in all the excitement. I knew it was possible you could win a ticket to Hollywood, but the truth is, I didn't really believe it would happen.”

“You didn't believe it, yet you encouraged me to do this?”

She nodded sheepishly. “I'm sorry. Was that terribly selfish?”

Katrina pressed her hands to her cheeks and sighed. “I guess I wouldn't have gone if I hadn't wanted to. I can't blame you for the mess I've gotten myself into.”

“It's not a mess,” Bekka said. “You saw how much the judges like you. And Jack Smack, he doesn't like anyone. Now he's planning a meeting for you in Hollywood.”

Hollywood . . . How would she explain that to Mamm and Daed? The only thing she felt truly happy about as they fished out their tickets and got onto the bus was that in a couple of hours she would see Cooper again. They would have a nice long buggy ride to catch up on things. It seemed as if it had been years since she'd last seen him. So many things she'd wanted to say, so many things they had almost said, so many things still left to say. Hopefully Bekka would want to take a nap while they talked.

Katrina spotted the dark gray buggy as they climbed out of the bus. But instead of Cooper's head popping out, it was Peter's. “Why is Peter here?” she asked as they hurried over to join him.

“Cooper called from his uncle's cabinet shop yesterday,”
Peter explained after Bekka told him the good news about Katrina being a finalist. “He's decided to stay on there. Seems his uncle has something wrong with his elbow and really needs Cooper's help just now. So he's already started his apprenticeship.”

Katrina didn't know what to say. She was disappointed clear down to her toes. Not just because Cooper wasn't driving them home, but because this meant she wouldn't see him again . . . for how long? Only God knew. Instead of Bekka sleeping on the way home, Katrina curled up on the rear seat, listening as Bekka told her brother the whole story of their “amazingly exciting” visit to Cleveland. To hear Bekka tell it, one would think they really did have fun. Katrina wondered if it was possible for two people to be in the same place at the same time and have entirely different experiences.

Katrina tried to downplay being a finalist on
American Star
, but both Sadie and Cal seemed determined to keep talking about it, asking her questions about Cleveland and what was to happen next. She told them someone from the show might be coming to visit and that she would have to go on to Hollywood to participate in the final competition for the cash prizes. That didn't seem to concern either of them, and fortunately they both had the good sense not to discuss these topics much around their parents or Drew.

“You seem unhappy,” Aunt Alma told Katrina as they sat on Daadi's porch sipping iced tea together. It was the first time Katrina had seen her aunt since going to Cleveland. “Is something worrying you?”

“It's just the same old things,” Katrina admitted. “And then some.”

“I know you're worried about singing in that show, and I don't want to influence you one way or the other, but I believe if you're doing it for your daed, it is a good thing. You should not feel guilty for helping your family. Besides, what about getting to meet Larry—Mammi's singing partner—wouldn't that alone be good reason to go to Hollywood?”

“But I looked on a map, and Hollywood is so far away. It's scary to think of going there all by myself. Bekka says I'll have another contestant for a roommate when I get there. An English girl. But I know I will feel lost . . . and alone.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

Katrina chuckled to imagine Aunt Alma at such an event, but the idea of it warmed her heart. “I wish you could go too.”

“You do?”

“
Ja
. That would be great.”

“Then I shall do it.”

“Do what?”

“Go to Hollywood with you.”

“Really?” Katrina was worried now. “But how will you afford it? I know my way is paid, but that's all. And believe me, after three days in Cleveland, I know it will be expensive.”

“I have money.” Aunt Alma patted her chest. “I've been saving my quilt money for years and years. I can afford to go if I want to go. Besides, if you have a place to stay, why can't I just sleep on the floor next to you? I will buy my own food, of course, but if your room is as big as what you told me about in Cleveland, you should have plenty of room for an old woman like me.”

“If it's like the room in Cleveland, you can share the big bed with me. Did I tell you there were two great big beds? Bigger than the one Mamm and Daed share—one for Bekka
and one for me. And each bed had six pillows on it. Can you imagine?”

“Six pillows? That seems extravagant. Even for the English.”

“Will Aunt Fannie let you go?” Katrina asked quietly.

“She cannot stop me.” Aunt Alma stood now. “I will ask Daed. If he says to go with you, I will.”

“But what will you tell him? He doesn't know about the TV show, does he?”

“No. But I will tell him I'm going to be your guardian while you are on
rumspringa
. If he doesn't agree to that, I will tell him that I'm going on
rumspringa
myself. And if he doesn't like that, I will tell him what I know about Mamm. That will keep him quiet enough.”

Katrina was stunned. She'd never seen Aunt Alma like this before. “You'd really do that for me?”

“For you.” She nodded firmly. “And for me.”

Katrina told Aunt Alma about how a camera crew would be coming soon. “Probably in the next week or so,” she explained. “I don't want you to feel you need to let them take your picture. I just wanted to warn you. Mamm and Daed don't know yet. I think I'll wait and tell them right before the crew comes.”

“Oh, my.” Aunt Alma's eyes twinkled. “You are shaking our settlement up.”

“I hope they'll let me back in when it's over and done.”

“Of course they will. If you confess and repent, they have to forgive you.”

“
Ja
. . . so I've heard.”

“Just remember your mammi. She left—and stayed away for years—and she still came back.”

“That's true. But not to her own family.”

“
Ja
. But we became her own family.”

Katrina was tempted to tell Aunt Alma about Cooper and how he was apprenticing with his uncle, but she figured if Aunt Alma went to Hollywood with her, they would have time to talk about that later. It was reassuring to think of her aunt traveling with her, staying in the hotel with her, being there for her. And it seemed Aunt Alma wanted to go with her. Katrina hoped and prayed that nothing would stop Aunt Alma from coming.

The film crew came in late June—Bekka had warned a week earlier that she'd received an email announcing they were coming, so for the next few days, Katrina tried to be prepared for them. They didn't show up right away, so she decided to just forget about it. When the big white van finally pulled into their driveway—straight out of the blue—she wasn't sure what to do. Wearing her working dress with a dirty garden apron since she'd been working in the garden, she had bare feet and no
kapp
on her head. She apologized and offered to go inside and clean up, but they would not let her.

“We just want you to be yourself,” Brandy assured her. “Just go about your regular day.”

Feeling nervous and worried about what her family would think, she led them to the garden where she'd been pulling weeds, trimming the raspberry bushes, and staking cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers. While she continued to work, they followed with their equipment, and Brandy asked her questions, trying to get Katrina to open up. But Katrina was too self-conscious, not to mention afraid that Mamm would soon show up and demand to know what was going on, so her answers stayed short and crisp. Brandy was not pleased.

After a while, Katrina decided that Mamm and Sadie were too busy doing laundry to notice anything amiss. She began to relax, and after she made the crew sample some strawberries and cherry tomatoes that had come on early, she forgot all about the cameras and began to talk to Brandy like she was just a friend.

“The garden is my favorite place,” Katrina said as she picked the tiny tomatoes, gently setting them in her basket. “I think it's because God is here in the garden with me. I've heard that you can't be closer to God than when you're working the soil.” She held up an oversized cherry tomato. “It's so satisfying to grow this from a tiny seed that I started last winter in our greenhouse. Now it's ready to eat.” She bit into it and it squirted juice and seeds down her chin, which made everyone laugh.

Then she got more serious. “I don't understand how you city people can live the way you do, with your cement everywhere and tall glass buildings and all those noisy cars and trucks and exhaust fumes. I could not live like that. I do understand how you might lose sight of God, living in the city like that. But out here”—she waved her hands—“with my fingers in the soil and a song in my heart and all these beautiful fruits and vegetables growing—well, God is all around me. Can't you feel him too?” She smiled at them, hoping they understood.

“That's a wrap,” one of the guys said.

Relieved to be done, Katrina walked them back to their van.

“We still need to get some B roll,” Brandy said.

“What's that?” Katrina frowned. “Food?”

Brandy laughed. “No, just some film of where you live.” She explained that they planned to drive around the settlement
and get some more shots of the landscape and barns and cows. “Is that okay?”