Bumpy Ride Ahead! (12 page)

“It’s not fair that we have to do the dishes while everyone else is sitting around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows,” Mattie complained as she reached into the drainer for another dish to dry.

“Mom thinks it’s fair,” Mark said, looking out the window above the sink, watching Dad put another marshmallow on Perry’s stick. “Our punishment for spending some of the money she gave us on ice cream and soda pop, instead of keeping it for the things she wanted, is havin’ to wash and dry the dishes and go without any dessert tonight.”

“I wish Mom had given us more money and let us go back to the store for the rest of the items,” Mattie said. “But no, she said she would take the horse and buggy and go to the store on Monday morning after we leave for school.”

Mark sloshed the soapy sponge over one of the plates in the sink. “If we’d had enough money when we were at the store today to buy paper plates and plastic cups, we wouldn’t have had to use Mom’s dishes tonight.”

“Jah, and we wouldn’t be here in the kitchen right now,” Mattie added. “We’d be out there eating tasty marshmallows and listening to one of Dad’s stories about when he was a
yung
bu.”

“I like hearing Dad tell about when he was a young boy,” Mark said. “It makes me realize that he felt the same way I do sometimes.”

Mattie nodded and reached for another plate to dry. “Sometimes I think Mom and Dad don’t understand the way I feel about things, but then one of ’em tells something about the way it was when they were young, and then I think maybe they do know how I feel.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to realize that our folks were little once, like we are right now,” Mark said.

“I know,” Mattie agreed. “I can’t really imagine them being kids, but I know they had to be.” She giggled.

“When I grow up and have some kinner of my own, I’ll tell ’em about lots of things I did as a boy.” Mark reached over and tickled Mattie under her chin with his soapy finger. “I’ll even tell ’em how I liked to tease my twin sister.”

Mattie squinted her eyes and pushed his wet hand away. “You do and I’ll tell ’em how you landed in stinky manure when you fell off the roof of the chicken coop.”

Mark shook his head. “I didn’t fall, Mattie. I floated off the roof when Dad’s big umbrella lifted me into the air.”

Mattie flapped her hand. “Thinkin’ you could use that umbrella as a parachute was not very bright.”

“I know that now, so don’t rub it in.”

“Sorry,” Mattie said. “I was just makin’ a point.”

Mark grunted. “Well, one thing’s for sure—I’ll never do a crazy stunt like that again.”

Mattie put the dishes she’d dried into the cupboard and closed the door. “Everyone’s still sitting around the bonfire,” she said, peeking out the kitchen window. “I sure do miss bein’ out there with them tonight.”

Mark’s forehead wrinkled. “Jah, and now that we’ve finished the dishes, we have to go to bed.”

“Mom said we need to learn a lesson,” Mattie murmured. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll never use Mom’s money to buy anything for myself at the store, ever again. At least not unless she tells me to.”

Mark gave a nod. “Me neither.”

C
HAPTER
12

A week later, on a Friday night, Mattie tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find a comfortable position. For some reason she just couldn’t sleep.

Maybe what I need is a glass of milk,
she thought. Grandma Troyer had told Mattie once that whenever she drank a glass of warm milk before going to bed, it always put her to sleep. Of course, Mattie didn’t think she would like warm milk, but a glass of cold milk would probably be just as good.

Quietly, Mattie slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. Everyone else was in bed, and she knew she’d have to be extra quiet or she might wake someone up.

When Mattie entered the kitchen, it was dark, so she turned on the battery-operated lantern Mom kept on the counter below the cupboards. Then Mattie took a clean glass from the cupboard and placed it on the table. She opened the refrigerator and was about to get out the milk when she spotted a blackberry pie—or what was left of one. Mom had made two pies yesterday, and they’d eaten one pie and part of the other for dessert last night. There was only one piece left of this pie, and boy, did it look good!

Mattie’s stomach rumbled in protest, and her mouth watered just thinking about eating a piece of that delicious-looking hunk of blackberry pie.

Mattie wondered if Mom might be saving that piece for her or Dad’s breakfast tomorrow. She stood several seconds, staring at the slice of pie, and finally decided to take it. After all, she was hungry, and the slice was sitting right there in front of her….

Mattie placed the pie pan on the table and lifted the pie onto a napkin. After that, she poured herself a glass of milk. Then, afraid someone might hear her moving around in the kitchen, Mattie put the empty pie pan in the sink and turned off the lantern. Anxious to get upstairs to her room, she picked up the milk and pie then went quietly up the stairs.

Back in her room, Mattie set the milk and pie on the nightstand and sat down on her bed. Since she hadn’t bothered to get a fork, she had to use her fingers to eat the pie. This worked fine until the blackberry juice started trickling down her fingers. Then, when she leaned over to lick it off, the rest of the pie she was about to eat slid off the napkin and onto her bed.

“Oh no!” Mattie gasped when she saw the bright purple stain all over the solid-white sheets. How was she going to explain this to Mom?

“Mattie, I’m getting ready to do the laundry, so please bring your dirty clothes down now,” Mom called up the stairs on Saturday morning.

Mattie, who’d been lying on her bed reading the book about flowers, raced to the door and hollered, “I’ll bring them down in a few minutes!”

“Oh, and don’t forget to strip the sheets off your bed,” Mom said. “Those need to be washed, too.”

Mattie gulped. Until this very minute she’d forgotten about the blackberry stain on her sheets. After she’d tried unsuccessfully to get it off with a wet washcloth, she’d put a towel over the spot and slept on the other side of the bed. Now she had no choice but to admit what she’d done because Mom was sure to see that awful purple blotch before she put the sheets into the washing machine.

Mattie pulled aside the beautiful patchwork quilt on her bed. Thank goodness the quilt was still clean. Mattie didn’t know what she would have done if the pie juice would have stained that, too. The sheet was bad enough!

Frowning at the purple stain, Mattie removed the sheets and pillowcases, placing them in the laundry basket along with all her dirty clothes. Then she picked up the basket and made her way slowly down the stairs.

“Oh, there you are,” Mom said when she met Mattie at the bottom of the steps. “Everyone else has already put their dirty clothes in the basement, so I was just waiting on yours before I started the washer. Would you please carry your laundry basket down there, too?”

“Uh, Mom … there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Can it wait a bit, Mattie? I really want to get the batch of clothes washed so I can hang them on the line to dry in case it decides to rain. There’s a good breeze blowing this morning, and everything should dry fairly fast, I expect.”

“Okay.” Mattie hauled the basket down to the basement.

“You can go back to whatever you were doing now,” Mom said when she joined Mattie there by the washer.

Mattie shook her head. “I—I can’t, Mom. Not till I tell ya something.”

“Let me get this first load into the washing machine, and then you can tell me whatever you like.” Mom knelt on the floor and lifted Mattie’s sheets out of the basket. She’d just started putting them into the washer when she halted. “Ach, what’s this?” she asked, pointing to the ugly purple stain.

Mattie swallowed hard. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya.”

Mom squinted and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’d like to hear what you know about this horrible-looking stain on your
leinduch.
“

Mattie quickly explained how she’d gotten out of bed last night, taken the piece of blackberry pie, and accidentally dropped it on her sheet. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I know it was wrong and selfish of me to take the last piece. I—I didn’t mean to drop it, either. I was so hungerich last night, my stomach wouldn’t stop growling, and when I saw that last piece of pie, I just had to have it.”

Mom pursed her lips. “You should know better than to help yourself to something without asking, and I’ve told you many times that I don’t want you taking food to your room unless I’ve given my permission.”

“I know, and I promise never to do it again.”

Mom pulled Mattie into her arms and gave her a hug. “I forgive you, Mattie, but you must learn a lesson from your disobedience.”

Mattie sniffed and swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Are you gonna give me a
bletsching
?”

Mom shook her head. “No, I’m not going to spank you, but after I’ve washed the clothes, it will be your job to hang them on the line to dry. Then later this afternoon, I’ll have some extra chores for you to do.”

Mattie knew she’d done wrong and deserved to be punished, so she didn’t give a word of protest. “I’ll go outside and wait on the porch,” she told Mom. “When the first batch of clothes is done, I’ll be ready to hang them out to dry.”

“How’d you like to take turns pullin’ each other in our little red wagon?” Mark called when he spotted Mattie standing on a wooden stool, hanging the laundry on the clothesline.

“I can’t right now,” Mattie said. “I have to finish doin’ this.”

Mark sprinted over to the clothesline. “How ’bout when you’re done?”

“Maybe, but that won’t be for a while yet.” She motioned to the clothes in the basket. “As you can see, I still have a lot of things left to hang.”

Mark flopped down on the grass beside the basket. “I’ll wait till you’re finished.”

“Why don’t you help?” Mattie suggested. “That way I can get done a lot quicker.”

Mark shook his head. “I’d rather not.”

“How come?”

“’cause men don’t hang clothes on the line.”

Mattie snickered. “You’re not a
mann,
Mark. You’re still a bu.”

“Maybe so, but I’m growing older every day, and pretty soon I’ll be a man.”

Mattie said nothing—just picked up a green towel and hung it on the line.

“Wanna play a little game?” he asked.

“No. Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

“This is the kind of game you can play while you work. It’s a question and answer game.”

She bent to pick up another towel. “What kinds of questions?”

“Bible questions.” Mark plucked a blade of grass and stuck it between his teeth. “If you can answer all five of my questions, I’ll help you hang up the rest of the clothes.”

“Okay,” Mattie agreed. “That sounds good to me. What’s the first question?”

“There was a man in the Bible who used a stone for a pillow. Do you know his name?”

“Hmm …” Mattie rubbed her chin. “I remember Dad reading that Bible story to us once. Let’s see now … was it Jacob?”

Mark nodded. He couldn’t believe Mattie remembered that story. Maybe she would do better at this game than he thought.

“What’s the next question?” Mattie asked.

“Who was the oldest man in the Bible, and how long did he live?”

Mattie tipped her head and squinted her eyes, like she was thinking real hard. “Let’s see now … was it Noah?”

“Nope. The man’s name was Methuselah, and he lived 969 years.”

Mattie’s mouth dropped open. “Wow! He must have had a very long beard!”

Mark chuckled. “Jah, I’ll bet it was even longer than Grandpa Troyer’s and Grandpa Miller’s beards; and theirs come way down here.” He placed his hand in the middle of his chest.

“You’re right—both of our grandpas have pretty long beards.”

“Are you ready for the next question?” Mark asked.

Mattie shook her head. “There’s no point in me trying to answer another question.”

“How come?”

“I already missed one answer, and you said if I got them all correct you’d help me finish hanging the laundry.”

Mark shrugged his shoulders. “Guess you’re right, but you could still try to answer the other three questions.”

“Huh-uh.”

“Pl–e–a–s–e …”

Mattie picked up another towel and snapped it in front of Mark’s face. “I’m done with your game!”

He grinned.
I’ll bet if I keep asking her questions she’ll answer.
“What is the shortest verse in the Bible?”

“I have no idea.”

“It’s just two words.”

“I don’t know,” Mattie said.

“‘Jesus wept.’ It’s found in John 11:35.”

“That is a short verse.”

Mark cleared his throat real loud. “Last question: What is the longest word in the Bible?”

“You may as well tell me ’cause I have no idea at all,”

Mattie said, clipping a pair of Dad’s trousers to the line.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Jah.”

“The longest word in the Bible is Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz. It’s a name that was given to a
boppli.
“

“What a strange name for a baby,” Mattie said.

“I know, but not all Bible names are strange.” Mark smiled. “My name is in the Bible. It’s in the New Testament, in fact.”

Mattie nodded. “Jah, the Book of Mark.”