A Wedding Quilt for Ella (3 page)

“She doesn’t like me,” Clara said in panic. “She’s getting ready to kick.”

“Oh, she likes you,” Dora said from her stool. “Cows don’t care who milks them as long as you don’t pinch them.”

“She’s not pinching,” Ella said. “Quit scaring her. She doesn’t even have long fingernails.”

Clara managed to get a longer squirt of milk out.

“I did it,” she squealed.

“You’ve got a long ways to go there, litde girl,” Dora muttered as she got up to empty her bucket into one of the larger milk cans. Dora slowly poured the milk through the strainer and into the can, pausing momentarily when the strainer reached the overflow point. Moments later she emptied the last drops.

“Keep going, Clara,” Ella said. “You’re doing fine. I have to go milk my own cow now.”

Clara worked slowly while Ella and Dora finished their cows and then two more apiece.

“My hands burn like fire,” Clara said in despair, “but I think I’m finally done. No more milk comes out.”

“That’s all you need to do tonight,” Ella said, walking over to her. ‘One cow’s enough. Tomorrow night you can try again. It takes time for your muscles to grow stronger. Now, let me check how well you’ve done.”

Clara stepped back from her cow, and Ella sat down. She quickly began with long even strokes and, to Clara’s surprise, soon covered the bottom of her pail with milk.

“So I didn’t finish the cow,” Clara said, her face fallen.

“Don’t be feeling bad,” Ella said. “I had to check. It wouldn’t be good for the cow if you left milk in it.”

Three

W
ith all of the others having already disappeared inside the house, Ella raced across the yard. Eli met her at the utility room door. “I thought I was always last,” he said with a teasing tone. “So how come you’re the tail tonight?”

“I was helping Clara,” she said, then stopped, and waited outside while he washed at the washbasin. The evening had grown quiet. The noise of the cows in the barnyard was muffled. In the west the sun had set, and the deep shadows settled across the valley, replacing the light of day. Yet even the nighttime had its comfort and strength in the repose that came after a hard day’s work.

She heard Eli splash around in the washroom. He would have the water dirty by now and wouldn’t think to step outside to empty the contents. He was a fine enough young man, as was her younger brother, Monroe. They just needed to be taught some manners.

The noises in the washroom ceased, and Ella stepped inside and, as she expected, found the water dirty, Eli gone, and the soap bar skidded all the way to the back corner of the counter. With the water basin in her hand, she held the door open with her foot and threw the water into the yard.

“Supper, Ella,” Mamm called from inside. “The boys are hungry.”

Perhaps she ought to go on in, sit for the prayer, and then come back out to wash. But, no, they could wait. Eli could have dumped the water out if he had wanted to. That would have saved some time. She refilled the washbasin from the water bucket beside the cabinet and quickly washed her hands.

“We’re hungry,” one of her brother’s roared from the kitchen as she splashed water on her face. There was a general murmur of voices and then silence.

Slowly she dried her hands and face on the towel. That would teach them. She smiled in the semidarkness and then opened the kitchen door with a great rush.

“She wouldn’t be makin’ Aden wait like that, now would she?” Monroe said. “Not when he’s starvin’ from a hard day’s work in the fields like we are.”

“My, my,” their father said with a grin. “You boys will all make it—even as hungry as you are. And just remember this. If you get half as good a wife as Ella, you’ll be doing real good. That’s the kind of wife she’ll make for Aden. Yah.” He nodded his head sharply, his beard jerking with the motions of his chin.

“Ach. She’s only so-so,” Monroe said, waving his arms around. “Can’t she hurry now? And Aden just wouldn’t be a-knowin’ any better, that’s all.”

Ella sat down, ignoring them.

“Are we ready to pray?” their father asked.

Both boys nodded vigorously and then followed the rest, bowing their heads in prayer.

Daett led out in German, “Our
grosser Gott im himmel,
You who never rest or grow weary, we now pause to give thanks and to bless Your great name. Your name is worthy of honor and glory and praise for as long as the earth stands and heavens shine. Even unto all eternity, You are and were and will forever be. Bless now our home and those who live here. Bless the food that is prepared. Be with those who hunger tonight in other lands and even in our own land. Give them grace, and when we meet them, give us compassion for their needs. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“Pass the mashed potatoes quick! I’m starving, and I won’t last much longer,” Eli blurted, motioning with both hands toward Dora who sat directly in front of the bowl of white, fluffy, mashed potatoes.

Unmoving, Dora stared at the bowl.

“Potatoes!” Monroe roared.

“Let’s see now,” Dora said slowly, “do I want one spoonful or…maybe I want…two. Or, then again, I think…I’m gaining too much weight. Do you think I should have any at all?” She pondered the question while staring at the bowl with great intensity.

“If you don’t be passin’ that bowl, I’ll be throwin’ a cow on your head,” Eli bellowed, “like right now.”

“Ach! Yah, he will,” Dora said to the others in mock fear. “The great man has spoken, and shall I pass the potatoes, then?”

“I think you’d better,” Daett said. “I could use some myself.”

“Then I suppose I should,” Dora said, taking a spoonful with a sigh. With a sweet smile on her face, she passed the bowl.

“We have to be warnin’ the poor boy who gets her for a wife,” Monroe whispered to Eli. “I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy.”

“You’re a little late,” Dora said with a smirk. “He’s already smitten with my charms.”

“Then he’ll need
Da Hah
to help him!” Eli declared.

“Children, children,” Daett said, “let’s leave
Da Hah
out of this. He’s helping all of us.”

“Some more than others,” Eli said with a smirk.

“I will pray for you when it comes time to find a girl,” Dora said. “I’m sure you’ll be needing lots of help.”

“A good wife might help you boys,” Ella said in defense of her sister. “She might show how you are to conduct yourself.”

The boys shook their heads at each other.

“Somebody just drove in,” Mamm said as she rose from her chair to look out the living room window. “It’s Aden’s daett. I wonder what he wants.”

“He might be wantin’ that Belgium for tomorrow,” Daett said. “I told him he could have the horse for a day or two since I know he’ll be careful with it.”

“Maybe you’d best go see, Noah,” Mamm said. “I hope your food won’t be getting cold before you come back in.”

“This can’t take too long,” Daett said. “The Belgium’s in the barn already.” He got up, grabbed his hat, and went out the front door.

There was silence around the table except for the sound of forks and spoons on ceramic plates.

The front door soon opened, and they clearly heard two pairs of footsteps on the floor.

Mamm raised her eyebrows and said, “They must want something from the house.”

Noah appeared in the kitchen doorway and cleared his throat. His left hand gripped his beard tightly. He looked directly into Ella’s eyes across the table.

“I thought he’d best tell you himself,” he said and stepped aside to let Aden’s father, Albert, through the doorway. He stood there, his head bowed, silent tears streaming down his face.

Ella rose from her chair, but Mamm motioned for her to sit back down.

“He has news for us,” Daett said.
“Da Hah
has seen fit to move with His hand in ways we cannot understand. Yet we know that He is still God, and in this time of trouble, we must not question His ways. Yah, let us always remember that.”

“Is it Lydian,” Mamm asked as she scooted her chair away from the table, “or one of your girls, perhaps? Is there trouble with them?”

Aden’s dad breathed deeply, his hands clasped together in front of him, and then he pulled his blue handkerchief out of his pocket and loudly blew his nose. His lips trembled as he spoke, the words a mere whisper. “Ella, our Aden passed away this afternoon. We only heard an hour ago ourselves.”

“Aden?” Mamm rose to her feet. “But he was not ill.”

Albert shook his head as sobs now racked his body. “I had to come…to tell Ella at once. She is like family to us, like a daughter. Yah, but now this is all lost, and Aden has passed to his reward.”

“What happened?” Mamm asked. All heads turned to Ella, who sat in stunned silence.

Albert didn’t answer but walked slowly over to Ella. He placed his free hand on her shoulder and sobbed into his handkerchief The moments were long before he found his voice again. “I have lost my son, the son whom I loved, but your pain will also be great. You have lost what you never really had.”

“Da Hah
will be with us,” Daett said from across the table. “His grace is always enough—even in these times.”

Ella tried to speak but found no words.

Albert gathered himself together, intending to finish his story. His voice caught, but he tried again. “Aden became ill some days ago. A real hard side ache, he said. We did the usual things for him. We thought he might have overworked himself. They’d been framin’ a house with the work crew. Aden didn’t want to go to the clinic. I guess I should have insisted, but he’s a man now. He just stayed home from work a few days and seemed better after that. It looked as if he knew best…like he’d done the right thing. I didn’t pay much attention anymore. Then he told us he ran a fever last evening. By this morning Laura told him something had to be done. He looked so bad. We took him down to the clinic right away. Doctor sent him right to Tri-County Hospital, and I guess they went to surgery. That’s where he was when we came down. But he never woke out of it, and they told us the appendix had burst. It had burst a day or so ago. It was just too late.”

Albert wiped his eyes. “It’s just so unexpected. Yah, I never would have thought Aden—of all my boys—would go so soon. He was the best of them, and now
Da Hah
has taken him.”

Mamm stood to her feet and walked over to stand behind Ella. Albert stepped aside. Ella knew her face must be white as she struggled again for words, but not a sound came out. It was useless to try.

“You want to come to the living room?” Mamm asked. “It might be easier there. Yah, come?”

Why was her blood so cold and the whole kitchen so out of place as if she had never seen it before? Ella tried to stand, to allow Mamm to lead her, but she didn’t have the strength.
Surely this isn’t true. Aden’s dead? The words must be from a bad dream, but if they are, why can’t I wake up?

“Is Aden…really gone?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

Mamm nodded. “But you shouldn’t talk about it here. Come into the living room.”

What does the living room have to do with anything? I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to hear it. I would rather scream, run out the door, and go find Aden. I want to see that he is alive, feel his arms around me, hear him say everything is okay, and listen to his laugh. He would say someone had misunderstood. He would say that I’m still the most wonderful girl who ever lived and tell me not to be frightened.

“He’s not dead,” she whispered. “I would have known. He can’t be dead. I just saw him Sunday.”

Her mom helped her rise, placing her arms under Ella’s. By the kitchen doorway, Ella heard Daett ask Albert, “When will the body be coming back?”

“Tomorrow,” Albert said, his voice low. “We will have the viewin in the evening.”

“I will bring her tomorrow,” Daett said. “We will stay with her till then.”

Albert loudly blew his nose, and Daett held the front door open for him. Ella watched him go, unable to move.

Four

T
he kitchen had a hush of silence over it. Daett came back and took Ella by one arm, and Mamm took the other. They slowly moved to the living room and helped her sit.

“He’s not dead,” Ella said. “I know he’s not, and I want to see him.”

Mamm sat beside her, running her hand over her daughter’s forehead. “This is not for you to think about. Just cry real good, now. It’s what’s for the best. This is the way of
Da Hah.
He decides who lives and who dies.”

“Not Aden,” she gasped. “No. I will not believe it until I see it. Not Aden. He was a good man, and I loved him. He cannot be gone.
No.”

“You’ll be stayin with her,” Daett whispered to Mamm. He disappeared through the kitchen doorway and spoke in a low voice to the rest of the family amidst the intermittent soft rattle of metal utensils on dinner plates.

Mamm pulled Ella tight against her.

“It’s not possible. I would have had some feeling about this. In here,” Ella said as she lay her hand on her chest, “because I love him.”

“I know,” Mamm said, nodding. “We all did. He was a good boy. His family is heartbroken too. You’re not the only one. They also have suffered a great loss along with you. You must think of them and not just of yourself. Our people are like that. And others will stand with you.

Ella was quiet and then turned to Mamm. “It’s true, then?”

Mamm nodded. “I’m sorry.
Da Hah
has taken him.” Then she added, “You can hope to see him again.”

“We were not married,” Ella said, her eyes seeking her mom’s face again.

“It’s best you cry, Ella, and not think,” Lizzie said, pulling Ella tight against herself again. “Let the pain come. That also is
Da Hah’s
way, and He can touch you, then, because He’s the only one who understands when times like this come.”

A few faces appeared in the kitchen opening but were withdrawn immediately.