A Simple Song (7 page)

“My grandmother tells me that I am to take us to visit Uncle Earl and Great-Aunt Martha,” Cooper quietly told her.

“That's right. I nearly forgot about that.”

“Is that the uncle who makes cabinets?” Peter asked.

“Ja.”
Cooper nodded. “We might've scheduled a trip by now, but Mammi tripped on the porch steps and twisted her ankle last week.”

“I'm sorry. Is it very bad?”

“She can't walk on it. But she did suggest that I could just drive you and your Aunt Alma over.” He shrugged. “That is, if you still want to go.”

Some of the urgency she'd felt before—longing to understand Mammi's past—seemed diminished now. Still, she was
curious. It also would give her a chance to see where Cooper might be moving to eventually. “
Ja
, I would like to go. But perhaps we should wait for your grandmother to get better.”

“
Ja
. We could wait. But I've been wanting to go visit my Uncle Earl for several months now. I need to talk to him about work . . . I need to make a decision about my apprenticeship.” Cooper's eyes searched her face now, as if he wanted to know her thoughts on this. But how could she even begin to put such things into words, especially with everyone listening?

“I'm happy to go whenever it's best for you,” she told him. “I'm sure Aunt Alma feels the same.”

“Then let's plan on two weeks from today,” he said. “That's the first weekend of June. Maybe Mammi will be better by then.”

“The first weekend of June?” Bekka chimed in from behind. “I just heard that
American Star
is having auditions in Cleveland during the first week of June. Maybe on your way you can stop and try out for the show.”

“Cleveland is not on the way,” Katrina sharply told her.

“What is
American Star
?” Cooper asked.

“It's a TV show that Bekka sneakily watches on the computer—the computer that is supposed to be used for our family's business.” Peter tossed his sister a scornful look as he continued driving the horses.

“Bekka watches TV?” Cal sounded genuinely shocked.

“At least it's not trashy TV,” Bekka said, defending herself. “Just a bunch of people who can't sing half as good as Katrina. They compete for a cash prize. It used to be a million dollars to split between the two winners—a guy and a girl—but now I think both top singers win a whole million dollars each.”

“A million dollars just for singing good?” Cal suddenly sounded interested.

“
Ja
. And the ones who make it into the top eight win money too,” she told him. “I can't remember for sure how much each one wins. But I do know this: Katrina could win. Maybe even first place.”

“Katrina could win a million dollars?” Cal asked.

“She sings that good,” Bekka confirmed.

Katrina shook her head. “You cannot be serious. I would never have a chance against English people.”

“But you have a good singing voice,” Cal assured her. “Bekka thinks you could win.”

“That is completely ridiculous.” Katrina looked at Cooper, hoping he'd say something to help her out of this nonsense. But he was being quiet.

“She doesn't even have to win the top prize,” Bekka told Cal. “I think the smallest prize is about fifty thousand dollars.”

“That's more than enough for Daed's surgery.” Cal nudged Katrina. “Maybe you should do this.”

“Cal.” She shook her head. “I'm sure there's never been an Amish person on that show, and besides the fact that I wouldn't have a chance, can you imagine what Daed would say?”

“You would have a chance,” Bekka told her. “I've watched that show for three years. You are better than all of them.”

“Even if all that was true, I would be shunned for doing something like this.”

“You can't be shunned,” Peter pointed out. “You haven't even been baptized yet.”

“You know what I mean,” she told him. “And my parents would be humiliated.”

“Is it worse to be humiliated,” Cal asked, “or to suffer
pain every day like Daed does? Besides, when it was all over you could come home and apologize.”

“Yes,” Bekka said eagerly. “Your parents have to forgive you if you apologize and repent.”

“Then you could get baptized and join the church,” Cal told her. “I would even get baptized with you. That would make our parents very happy.”

“I don't know . . .” Katrina turned to look at her friend and brother. Couldn't they see how crazy this plan was? Had they all lost their minds?

“You've seen how much everyone at the group singing loves your music,” Cal continued. Even in the dim lamplight of the carriage, she could see the longing in her brother's eyes. He was just as concerned about Daed and the situation with the farm as she was. “When you sing those story songs, Katrina, everyone really listens to you. I've watched their faces. I honestly believe it changes how they think about things. In a good way.”

“That's true,” Cooper said. “That first night—when you sang the tin soldier song—it was like being in church, only better.”

Katrina didn't even know how to respond to that, but it touched her deeply. She promised her friends that she would think about trying out. “I'll pray about it too,” she said as they dropped her and Cal off at their house. And that was exactly what she intended to do. She would pray, God would say no, and that would be the end of it.

Daed's back was worse than ever on Sunday morning. The whole house was awakened even before the sun came up by the sound of him shrieking so loudly it seemed as if he were dying. Katrina wondered if pain could actually kill a person.

“I will stay here with Daed,” she told Mamm as they finished breakfast. “You need a break.”

“One of the boys will stay too,” Mamm said, “in case he needs help. He's too heavy for you.”

“I'll stay,” Cal offered quickly.

Mamm turned to Katrina. “Daed said he didn't want breakfast, but I want him to take one of those pills Dr. Warner prescribed, and he should have food with it.”

“I'll take him up some oatmeal and applesauce,” Katrina assured her.

“
Ja
, that would be good. The pills are in the cupboard next to the spices. Thank you.”

As the others were leaving for church, Katrina was hurrying upstairs with Daed's breakfast and the bottle of pills. She knew the pills were for pain and very strong. She also knew Daed detested them. However, hearing him groaning
down the hallway convinced her she might be able to persuade him.

“Daed?” she called out as she knocked on his door. “Breakfast.”

His answer was a loud groan.

She pushed open the door with her elbow. “I know you're feeling poorly,” she said as she set the tray on the dresser. “But Mamm says you need to eat. And you need to take a pill.”

“Not hungry,” he said stubbornly.

“Aw, come on now, Daed.” She put her hands on her hips and looked down at him. Was it just her imagination, or had he aged a lot in the past few weeks? His hair, which was sticking out all over, was streaked with gray. Even his beard seemed faded. And his face was ashen—so much so that it sent a chill through her. This was serious. She opened the bottle and removed a pill, holding it before him with a glass of water. “Daed, you know this pill will help with the pain.”

“Don't want it.”

“Daed.”
She held it out before him with her sternest expression. “Please, take your medicine!”

Daed actually blinked in surprise now, and despite his grimace, he almost seemed to be amused. But to her relief, he took the pill and popped it into his mouth, wincing as he reached for the water.

“Thank you, Daed.” She took the glass from him when he had finished. “Now you need some oatmeal to go with it.”

“Not hungry.”

“I made it just how you like it, with applesauce and cream and honey and just a sprinkle of cinnamon.” She dipped a spoonful and held it in front of him enticingly. “Come on, just a few bites.”

He kept his lips tightly closed, reminding her of some of the toddlers she babysat for occasionally.

“Come on, Daed,” Cal said from where he was standing in the doorway. “You know what will happen if you don't eat.”

“That's right,” Katrina said. “You will get sick to your stomach, and you'll vomit, and then you'll be in even more pain.”

Daed's pale blue eyes flickered as if he was remembering, and then he opened his mouth, allowing Katrina to spoon-feed him about six bites before he shut his mouth, closed his eyes, and leaned back with a long, sad moan.

Satisfied that there was not much more they could do for him, Katrina picked up the tray and went out to the hallway where Cal was waiting with a creased brow. “He seems really bad,” Cal whispered.

“I know,” she said quietly as she continued to the stairs. Cal followed her back to the kitchen, lingering as she scraped the leftover oatmeal into the slop bucket for the pigs and then set the bowl with the other dishes that needed to be washed. She turned on the tap, waiting for the water to get warm and hoping that the propane tank had enough gas to run the water heater long enough to finish these. She had heard Mamm saying it was low.

“Did you notice how gray his face looked?” Cal was hovering near the sink.

She nodded, pouring in soap. “He needs to see the doctor.”

“He needs that surgery.”

“I know.”

“What about what Bekka was talking about last night?” Cal put a hand on her shoulder. “What if you could do what she said? Win all that money?”

She pushed up her sleeves, wishing she'd thought to change from her Sunday dress before starting in on these chores. “Can you hand me that apron?” she asked.

He got Mamm's big blue apron and even helped to pin it on her.

“Katrina, you might have the power to make Daed well. That's not something you take lightly.”

“Do you know what Daed would say if I told him I was going to go sing on a television show, Cal? You heard him screeching in pain this morning. Well, I'm sure he'd be hollering even louder if his daughter went out with the English and sang to win money.”

Cal frowned, then slowly nodded. “
Ja
, you're probably right.”

She began to wash a glass, shaking her head.

“But it's still
rumspringa
for you,” he reminded her. “You're allowed to do wild things.”

“Not that wild.”

“I don't know. I've heard of districts where the youth do all kinds of things.”

“Not our district.” Suddenly she was thinking about Mammi—considering the things she had done and how she came back. “Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” he said eagerly.

“Oh, I was just thinking.” She waved a soapy hand at him.

“What if we asked Daed?” Cal said hopefully. “We could tell him about this opportunity, and we could remind him that it's your
rumspringa
time, and tell him that this is something you
need
to do before you commit yourself to the church and get baptized.”

She considered this. At least it was honest.

“You love to sing, Katrina. It seems to me this is something you need to get out of your system. Don't you?”

She turned to peer at Cal. Only sixteen months apart in age, she and Cal had always been close. Of everyone in the family, Cal seemed to know her best. Many times she had secretly prayed that he would fall in love with her best friend and marry her—and that would certainly please Bekka too. “You're right, Cal,” she said slowly. “I do love to sing. But I feel guilty about it.”

“That's only because Daed is so against it.” Cal frowned. “But I don't know why. Lots of people don't think it's wrong to sing. Well, as long as it's not for vainglory.”

“Vainglory,” she said as she rinsed a glass. “That's the problem.”

“But winning money to help Daed—is that vainglory?”

She wasn't sure, but by the time she finished the last dish, Cal had very nearly convinced her. “You're very persuasive,” she admitted as she hung up the apron.

“Come on, Katrina, let's go speak to him now,” Cal urged.

“He's probably asleep.” She hoped he was.

“Let's go see.”

They tiptoed up to Daed's room, and to Katrina's surprise, he was still awake and actually looked as if the pain pill had helped. “How are you doing, Daed?” she asked gently.

“Better,” he told her.

“Aren't you glad you listened to Katrina and took your pill?” Cal said boldly.

“
Ja, ja.
That was a good thing.” Daed let out a sigh of relief. “I am a stubborn man. I know.”

“We want to talk to you about something,” Cal began.

“Ja?”
Daed looked at them with interest.

“We know you need your back surgery, Daed,” Cal said in earnest. “And Katrina has a way to earn the money for it.”

Daed looked skeptical, but he listened as Cal quickly explained the idea. Of course, Cal didn't get all the facts straight, but Katrina didn't think it mattered since she was certain that Daed would reject this crazy plan.

“It's Katrina's
rumspringa
,” Cal said finally. “You know she loves to sing. This is something she needs to get out of her system . . . so that she can come back to us and commit to the church.”

Daed's brows arched. “You want to be baptized?”

“She and I are both considering it,” Cal told him. “But Katrina needs to do this first.”

“You both want to be baptized?” Daed's voice was hopeful.

“I do,” Cal assured him. “I want to get married someday too. But most of all I want you to get well first.”

Daed's eyes softened as he looked from Cal to Katrina. She wasn't sure if it was Cal's persuasion or the medication. “I want to hear you,” Daed said slowly.

“You want me to sing?” Katrina was shocked.

“Ja.”
His eyelids looked heavy.

“Sing ‘Puff, the Magic Dragon,'” Cal urged.

Right there in the little bedroom, Katrina began to sing. To her surprise, Daed's face lit up in a peaceful smile and he tapped his fingers on the quilt, listening as she sang the entire song.

“Beautiful,” he proclaimed when she finished.

She was too stunned to react.

“So you give her your blessing in this?” Cal asked eagerly.

“
Ja
,
ja
, Katrina has my blessing.”

“Daed?” Katrina peered curiously into his sleepy eyes.

“You are like my mamm, Katrina.
Ja
. Go and sing.” Then he closed his eyes and began to quietly snore.

Katrina looked at Cal, wondering if she'd heard this right. But she could tell by her brother's huge grin that she wasn't mistaken. Together they tiptoed from the room and quietly slipped downstairs, but once they were back in the kitchen, Cal hugged her and let out a triumphant whoop. “We did it, Katrina. We got Daed's blessing.”

She was still too shocked to react. “Does this really mean I'm going to do this?”

“You want to, don't you?”

She put a hand to her mouth, trying to suppress the wildly happy feeling rushing through her. “
Ja
,” she exclaimed. “I do want to do this. I really truly do!”

For the rest of the morning, Katrina was so happy she never stopped singing. She sang as she finished the kitchen chores—even doing more than Mamm would approve of on a Sunday. Then she checked on Daed, who was still resting peacefully, before she went out to the garden and happily worked for a couple more hours, still singing.

Finally, she knew it was about time for the rest of her family to come home, and she went off in search of Cal. Finding him mending some harness pieces, she told him that she wanted to make a deal with him.

“Make a deal?” He looked up from the leather and metal in his hand.

“Yes. If I'm really going to do this—if I go try out for that show—I want you to manage things with Mamm and Daed.”

“What do you mean manage?”

“I mean you got Daed to agree. Now I want you to explain the whole thing to Mamm and get her to agree too.”

Cal nodded. “All right. I can do that.”

“Good.” She smiled. If anyone could pull this off, it was Cal. Of all the kids, he was the one with the best powers of persuasion.

When Mamm and the others came home, Cal rounded them up in the front room and explained their plan. Katrina watched Mamm and Drew—both of them looked completely stunned. Sadie, however, didn't seem all that surprised. In fact, she had a slightly knowing look on her face.

“I do not know what to say.” Mamm just shook her head with an astonished look.

“Daed really agreed to this?” Drew asked for the third time.

“He did,” Cal told him. Katrina nodded.

“We've been taught that
rumspringa
is a time to decide how we want to live the rest of our lives,” Cal said somberly. “Katrina feels the need to sing.”

“I've heard that she's been singing solos at group singing,” Sadie said quietly.

Mamm looked surprised. “Is that true?”

Katrina murmured a yes, feeling the old familiar guilt.

“Everyone loves it,” Cal told her. “They beg her to sing.”

Drew looked distressed by this. “But what about vainglory?”

Mamm held up her hands. “Katrina has free will. If she wills to do this . . . we cannot stop her.”

“She can win money,” Cal reminded them. “More than enough for Daed's surgery.”

“How is he?” Mamm asked as if just remembering his earlier pain.

“Katrina took good care of him. He's resting well,” Cal assured her. “And he really enjoyed it when she sang for him.”

“You sang for Daed?” Drew looked at her in total disbelief.

She just nodded.

“Why don't you sing for us?” Sadie said in a slightly teasing tone.

Mamm looked uncertain, but then she just shrugged. “
Ja
, why not?”

“Sing the tin soldier song,” Cal suggested.

The room was quiet now. Katrina, feeling far more nervous than when she'd sung for the crowd in the barn at the group singing, stood and clasped her hands in front of her and quickly explained how this song was like a story. “It's similar to the story we've been taught at school about our history in Europe, when we were persecuted for believing in adult baptism and for being pacifists.”

“Truly?” Mamm looked slightly impressed. “I want to hear this.”

Katrina took in a deep breath, then began to sing: “Listen, children, to a story . . .” She put her whole heart into this song—imagining the sad, bloody scenes as she sang. When she stopped, the room was even quieter than before, if that was possible.

“Oh, my.” Mamm wiped tears from her eyes.

“I've never heard anything like that,” Drew admitted.

“Wow.” Sadie looked at Katrina as if seeing her for the first time. “That was beautiful.”

For some reason Sadie's reaction touched Katrina even more than the others'. “Thank you,” she told her.

“See,” Cal said with what Katrina hoped was not really pride. “Bekka watches this show all the time, and she says Katrina can win it.”