in my life when I wanted to leave my world. The ties I had with my family and the members of the church were very important to me. I loved working the farm and driving the horses—I wouldn’t trade those things for any of the comforts and entertainment of the English people.
Their way was definitely not my way.
Hurrying, I pushed the heavy mower to the house and started it up. While I pushed it through the short grass, barely needing any cutting at all, I decided that I wasn’t going to waste my time pining away over a girl that I could never have—and one who wasn’t a part of the life that I had been born into.
But even though I tried to block her from my mind, focusing on everything else under the sun, I couldn’t stop wondering about what it would be like to kiss such a girl. Those thoughts made the time spent mowing go quickly. With more energy than I’d felt in a while, I finished the yard in fifteen minutes and raced to the house to get ready.
Mother, Sarah and Rachel were flitting around the kitchen like busy hummingbirds when I came through the door in a rush. I couldn’t help noticing in just a glance that Mother looked stressed, having to stretch the meal unexpectedly for the guests.
To my surprise, even my littlest brothers, Daniel and Isaac, each had a broom in hand and were sweeping the wooden floor. Mother must have been desperate, to hunt the rowdy boys down and ask them for help.
“I’m taking a shower, Mother,” I said, hurrying through the kitchen. I had spoken to her in English, but as usual with the older Amish, she answered me in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“Noah, tell me what they were like. Father said little except that they were coming for dinner.” She had actually stopped working on the pork chops to stare at me with intense curiosity. My sisters looked about the same, waiting for my answer.
“Well, there are three kids,” I offered, wanting to just get out of the kitchen.
“Are there any girls?” Sarah asked with wide-eyed excitement.
“One—her name is Rose and she’s about your age, and the older boy, Sam, is probably my age, and then there’s a younger brother. I think his name is Justin.” I answered her in a very matter-of-fact way, especially trying not to give anything away when I mentioned Rose’s name. Women were pretty intuitive about stuff like that, and I worried that just a few words and they’d see right through me.
“Rose… That is a pretty name.” I couldn’t help agreeing with her. Not that I’d admit it out loud.
She drilled on with the interrogation, asking, “How were they dressed—are they modest people?”
Here we go. The image of the dirty, wet and aggressive kids rose up in my mind. I was at a loss for words, but I recovered quickly and lied. “They were very modest and nice English people, Mother. Now, I stink, and I need to take a shower before they arrive.” I impatiently waited for her to excuse me.
“Do you believe they’re Christians?” Mother asked with a sharper-than-usual voice.
What was I going to say to that one? Father had already witnessed the young ones fighting like riled-up roosters, and I was sure he’d be filling her in on the details when they were alone in their bed after dark. I’d be surprised if they even went to a church. “I don’t know, Mother. We only talked for a few minutes. Please, can I go take a shower?”
“Yes, of course. I want you all looking your best. Mr. Cameron is a doctor after all.”
Thank God, she turned back to the chops and forgot about me.
I didn’t miss Sarah’s scrutinizing look before I spun and leaped up the stairs two steps at a time. My sister could be a real pain in the butt. No doubt she’d be grilling me later.
When I stepped out of the shower, I pulled on one of my ironed blue shirts, leaving the top button undone and hoping Mother didn’t notice. Normally, she wouldn’t care if it was just the family for dinner, but having company would make a difference. As I was clipping on the black suspenders, I wondered if the English boys thought I looked stupid with them on. After all, suspenders were the one thing that I hadn’t seen any English men wearing.
But what was more on my mind than my own appearance was what the English kids would show up looking like. I certainly hoped they cleaned themselves before they came over. I mean, surely they wouldn’t arrive for dinner in the state they were in when I saw them earlier. That would be absolutely terrible. Mother would never allow me to hang around with them if they made a bad impression tonight.
And even though I’d already decided that I would do my best to erase any romantic thoughts about Rose, I had also promised myself that I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get to know her better either.
There wasn’t a mirror to check out how I looked, but I was confident I was presentable enough when I walked back down the stairs at a lazy pace. I was ready now; no need to hurry. The smells in the kitchen wafted through the house. My mouth watered slightly at the pleasant aroma of cooking meat and seasoned potatoes.
Mother and Sarah had changed into their church dresses and were in the process of pouring glasses of water when I entered the kitchen. Rachel was at the window, with a rag, vigorously wiping fingerprints off it. She, too, was wearing her navy blue Sunday best.
“Where’s Father?” I asked, scanning the immaculate kitchen. I had to admit I was a tad proud of the way the house looked and figured the new neighbors would be impressed—especially Rose.
“He’s on the front porch with Naomi. She finally woke from her nap.”
Mother was still very busy, and this time, she didn’t even glance in my direction when she answered.
I stepped out onto the porch, pulling the rocker closest to Father beneath me. He was dressed in his finest black jacket and pants, sipping lemonade from a large glass. Three-year-old Naomi was perched on one of his knees, munching on an apple. Seeing me sit down, she abandoned Father, coming over to climb up onto my lap. In Dutch, she asked me if the new neighbors were nice. Funny, how females became nosy at a very young age. I proceeded to tell her that they were very nice indeed.
It was a perfect June evening, with a cool breeze blowing, the air crisp and clean after the rainstorm. I relaxed, listening to the wind chimes softly clanging their song through the air, until Father’s voice shattered the moment.
“Noah, there’s a matter I want to discuss with you,” Father said, staring straight ahead, without meeting my eyes.
I sighed, knowing what was coming—and dreading it.
“Since that old house was vacant for so long, we have become used to not having outsiders living so close by. I am sure it will take some adjusting to. Also, the English children will want to make friends—which creates a very difficult situation for us. Their father is a doctor and a man of importance in the outer society, so we don’t want to offend him. But neither will I have my children spending much time with the English, being influenced and corrupted by them.”
He drew a deep breath, clearly immensely bothered by the idea. “They are wild, undisciplined children, and the less time you spend around them the better. Our Ordnung does not allow Rumspringa for a reason, Noah. We decided a long time ago that discipline for the young people of our church is the right path to God. You are at a point in your life when you will be taking on a woman and starting a family soon, and you mustn’t do anything to tarnish your reputation
