A Wedding Quilt for Ella (14 page)

The time would come soon when he would have to ask Arlene the question. She had been patient enough these last years, never acting like she was in a hurry, but with his twenty-first birthday coming in a few months, Arlene would start to wonder. She was only a few months younger than he was, and so there really was no reason their wedding date couldn’t be set.

“What’s the vet doing out this way on a Sunday morning?” David asked. “Surely he didn’t have any business here, did he?”

“Afraid so,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “We lost Aden’s horse. It foundered last night and ruptured this morning. It ate all night, I suppose. Someone must have left the stall unlatched yesterday. I feel bad about it. I guess I should have paid more attention yesterday.”

“Hard day, yesterday was,” David said as he led his own horse forward. Daniel held the shafts up and then set them on the ground.

The sound of buggy wheels rattling behind them announced the arrival of Myron Raber and Daniel’s sister, Susan. As they drove in the driveway Daniel went to help unhitch, and David took his horse into the barn.

“Good mornin’,” Daniel greeted them. “Nice day even with the rain comin’.”

“Yah,” Myron said as he got out of the buggy. He was a short-legged fellow with a beard that came down at least four buttons on his shirt. He was a nephew of Ivan Stutzman, a fact Daniel supposed couldn’t be held against him.

The couple had three children now, all of them reflecting Susan’s good looks. Of all Daniel’s nieces and nephews, these were his favorites.

“Are you okay?” he asked Susan as she came out of the buggy. Her hand reached back up to help her youngest down the step.

“As good as I can be,” she said with a catch in her voice, “when we just buried our brother yesterday.”

“Da Hah
gives grace to His people,” Myron said, pronouncing the words in almost an exact imitation of Preacher Stutzman.

Daniel wondered why
Da Hah
made certain people and then thought,
Perhaps without them, there wouldn’t be as great a need for grace.
“Yah, He does give grace,” he said, smiling to Susan. “David and Saloma are here already.”

“I thought that was their buggy,” Susan said.

Daniel held the shafts for Myron as he pulled his horse forward. He followed Myron out to the barn because there were no signs of any other buggies at the moment. David was already over at the stall, and Myron joined him when he had his horse tied. Daniel felt obliged to fill Myron in on the details about Aden’s horse.

“Da Hah’
s
villa,”
Myron said, all sober sounding. “No man can understand His ways.”

That’s true, but why do the words need to be said?
Daniel thought.
It’s sort of like salt rubbed in a wound.
Thankfully another buggy was arriving. Daniel turned to go, leaving Myron and David leaning against the stall rail as they talked.

Outside his oldest brother Levi and his wife, Sarah, had arrived. Levi was already out of the buggy, and Sarah was halfway to the house. Daniel helped unhitch—the little that was left to do—and after that, another buggy came. More arrived until the brothers and sisters had all arrived and gathered in the living room.

They were all married now except Daniel. With Aden gone Daniel felt it all the more—that comfortable, safe, cozy feeling of belonging; of fitting into a place you know is yours.

Seventeen

D
aniel let his gaze rest on the family gathered in the living room. Moments earlier he had run upstairs to bring down more chairs for the children. Some of the older ones had become tired of the outdoors and sat around listening to the adults’ conversation.

He placed himself toward the back, listening to the ebb and flow of the quiet chatter flow through the room. The younger children moved in and out. The girls played upstairs, and the boys carried on in the barn. When a storm threatened around eleven o’clock, Daniel checked for any open doors. In its brief downpour, all movement between the house and barn stopped until the rain moved on.

Daniel watched an occasional tear slide down the face of his sisters or mom. His own face reflected the other menfolks’ stoic faces. Tears might come when he was alone but not in public. Daniel hadn’t seen his dad cry much since the afternoon when the news of Aden’s death arrived. He had wept then, but the storm seemed to have passed. He knew that in the years ahead, his father would bear his loss with a quiet dignity as befitting his age and the way of his people.

Eventually, conversation stopped as Lydian stepped from the kitchen and into the living room and announced, “Lunch is ready.” Daniel glanced at the clock. It was already twelve o’clock. How quickly the time had passed.

“Let us pray first,” Albert said. With all the voices hushed, he led out in prayer.

Afterward, the family adjourned to the kitchen where Lydian served food from the counter. Each family member took a plate, got in line, and filled it before being seated again. Children sat on the floor, their plates between their feet. Daniel went through last, ate, and then excused himself.

“Goin’ to see someone special?” David teased.

Daniel just grinned and walked out the door. The rain had stopped, but a layer of fog drifted in piles along the river’s edge. There was no way the truck could have come yet for Aden’s horse, or he would have heard it. But Daniel knew his dad and brothers could handle the unpleasant chore without him.

As he went to get his own horse, he averted his eyes from the stall where Aden’s horse had been. He tried to call his own horse from the back barn door, but when the horse didn’t come, he decided to try to lure it in rather than traipse through the muddy barnyard in pursuit. The horse was good on the road but just didn’t like to get started.

With a few oats spread in the bottom of a bucket, Daniel rattled the contents at the barn door and got immediate results. He heard the high whinny of delight and soon saw a horse that couldn’t wait to get in the barn. He held the oats out of reach and led the horse inside. The horse then ate lustily while Daniel threw the harness on.

When he came out of the barn, two of his nephews held up the shafts of the buggy for him. They then held on to the bridle—one on each side—as he climbed in.

“Thanks,” he said as they stepped back. He let out the lines, took off, and waved.

Once on the road, Daniel pulled the vinyl blanket out from under the seat and placed it across his lap. The air was chillier than he had thought. Winter was past already, but there was still an occasional nip in the air. Soon he would have to change to a wool blanket. If he didn’t, Arlene would surely suggest it in her calm manner. Not that she wasn’t nice about such subjects, but he just wanted to use the vinyl blanket longer than she did. He supposed differences like that were what marriage was about—two people with different tastes learning from each other.

Did Aden and Ella ever have disagreements over winter and summer blankets? It’s hard to imagine them having such a conversation. They probably quoted that Emily poet to each other under whatever blanket they used.

Why did God break up such a couple and leave Arlene and me, just an average couple, alone?
It was a deep question, and Daniel squirmed on the buggy seat. It might be best to leave that one alone.

“Dangerous, such thoughts are,” Preacher Stutzman would say. “And so is the man who thinks he can understand the mind of God. He is foolish and very unwise.”

Daniel turned left at the next road and glanced at the river as he went by. Fog still hung in the valley, little curls of cloud swimming by his buggy wheels. It was a strange Sunday in ways he couldn’t put his finger on.

A mile later he pulled into Arlene’s parents’ place on John Darling Road. He laughed. It was good to find some source of amusement today. The name had that effect on him. On the first night he had brought Arlene home, he had wondered whether he qualified as Arlene’s John Darling but hadn’t dared ask her. That was a question Aden would have asked Ella with a mischievous chuckle in his voice. It was a question that Ella would have answered with a smile. The two couples were just different, and that was simply the way it was.

He tied up by the barn because no one seemed to be around. The horse could wait here as well as be tied up inside the barn. There was a singing tonight in the neighboring district, and even with Aden’s death this week, he wanted to attend. A good youth song service might cheer up his spirits.

As he finished securing the buggy, he heard the front door burst open behind him. Daniel turned, half expecting to see Arlene rush down the walks toward him. Not that she usually made such sudden appearances, but this had been a strange Sunday.

Instead, Arlene’s two younger brothers approached at a run. Norman, the oldest, was in the lead, and the younger one, Mervin, was only a few steps behind.

“Whoa,” Daniel said with a laugh as their youthful rush came to a halt in front of him, “what’s the big hurry?”

“We saw somethin’!” Norman said with great soberness.
“Three
of them. We saw them all by ourselves.”

“Yah,” Mervin said, and Norman nodded vigorously.

“And what was that?” Daniel asked, thinking they had likely seen some boy thing, like a bull frog or praying mantis.

“Angels!” Norman said. “We saw three of them in the sky, and then one flew away.”

“One went zoom!” Mervin said, making a quick gesture with his hand toward the sky.

“My, my!” Daniel said, smiling. “That must have been something. Where were these—you said angels?”

“Up in the sky. Up in front of the great big black clouds, the ones that brung all the rain,” Norman said. “Mervin and I—we seen them.”

“Well, shall we go inside and see if anyone else saw these angels?”

“They didn’t,” Norman said. “Just Mervin and me.”

Daniel started up the walk, expecting the boys to follow him. When they didn’t, he looked behind him.

“We’re going to play in the barn,” Mervin said, already following Norman in that direction.

“Okay,” Daniel said, watching as the boys rushed through the barn door. It was a strange Sunday, a very strange one, indeed.

Arlene met him at the door, holding it open with her hand, a smile on her face.
She is such a sweet girl, so tender and kind. Now, if I could just find the words to express my feelings. Aden wouldn’t have had any problems doing that.

“How’s the day been?” she asked as they moved into the living room. “We thought of comin’ over but figured the house was full with family. Aden’s death was such a terrible shock to all of us.”

He nodded. “Daett took it pretty hard, and Mamm did too, of course. Poor Ella, she took it hardest of all, I think.”

“I imagine so. And you? Aden and you were close, yah? Are you okay?”

“Still hurts some,” he said, “deep down inside of me.”

She reached for his arm and squeezed it. “I would think it would. I don’t have an older brother, but it must be awful hard. At least you have good hope for Aden. He wasn’t wild or anything like that.”

“Nah,” he said, smiling crookedly, “I suppose even Stutzman would think there was good hope.”

“Preacher Stutzman?”

“Yah,” he answered with a laugh.

“I wouldn’t worry about what he thinks,” she said. “Half the church has no hope according to him.”

“You think he has hope for himself?” Daniel asked, the thought just presenting itself.

“One would think so. I would certainly imagine so with the way he talks and all.”

The front door opened suddenly, and Norman burst in with Mervin close behind.

“Daniel believes what we’ve seen in the sky,” he said to his sister, great joy in his voice.

“I thought you were going to play in the barn,” Daniel said.

“We had to come and tell Arlene. Nobody else believes us,” Mervin said.

“So why did you two tell Daniel, then?” Arlene asked, tousling the younger one’s hair. “Those were just clouds in the sky, moving along with the storm.”

“I saw real angels, and Mervin saw them too,” Norman said, his voice firm. “They were really angels, flying across the sky.”

“Maybe they were,” Daniel said, tilting his head. This strange Sunday made about anything seem possible.

“See?” Norman said, pouncing on the words. “He believes us. I knew someone would.”

“Then thank him and go play,” Arlene said not unkindly, but her voice was skeptical.

“Yah, he believes us,” Norman said as he turned and went back out through the door and headed in the direction of the barn, Mervin in tow.

“We’ve been hearin’ about those angels since before lunch,” Arlene said when they were gone. “I hope they don’t tell it around school. Norman’s liable to, though, if I know him.”

“They’re boys,” Daniel said. “I think people will understand that they think they saw something that looked like angels.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “You want to stay in the living room? Mamm and Daett are taking naps.”

He nodded. Aden would have had something clever to say at just this moment. Something nice, no doubt, but he couldn’t think of anything, and so he just followed her and took a seat on the couch.