A Promise for Miriam (19 page)

“I imagine Pepper remembers you as well. You two are
freinden
for life after last weekend.” Miriam sipped her lukewarm
kaffi
. “Before I go, I thought we should run through the exercises. Your
dat
told me you haven’t had a chance to work at home, but I told him you’ve done well at school and you would want to work extra hard this weekend. After all, the Christmas presentation is next week, and we had talked about your participating.”

Grace began to crumble her cookie onto her plate rather than eat it.

“So let’s run through what we did in the buggy on the way here. You don’t need to do as many repetitions, but let’s do each exercise once so your
dat
can see how it’s done.”

Grace nodded ever so slightly, though it was hard to read her expression because her face was now almost parallel with the table. They were actually staring at the top of her
kapp
, which had come unpinned while she was running around outside. It had slipped halfway back on her head and brown hair, no doubt carefully braided this morning, tumbled down, obscuring her face.

Miriam could sense fear coming off the child in waves, and she longed to know what that was all about. What had caused Grace to stop speaking three years ago? What had kept her from speaking in the time between? And what was she so afraid of now?

The one thing she was certain of was that the girl could not be afraid of the man sitting across from her. Miriam had encountered a few abusive parents.
Englischers
liked to portray the Amish culture as perfect, but it wasn’t. Amish adults experienced anger and depression the same as adults did in any other community. Occasionally they had poor parents who were neglectful, and once in a while they had a father or mother who seemed to Miriam like bad people—but she’d always left those problems to the school board, the bishop, and the deacons.

She had learned to recognize the signs of abuse and neglect. It was an unpleasant part of her job—the misplaced bruise, the flinching when she placed a hand on a child’s shoulder, the inability of a student to make eye contact. She saw none of this with Grace. Moreover, Grace was happy and relaxed in her home environment.

Normally.

At the moment, she seemed to be trying to disappear into her chair.

“Let’s start with the hum. Repeat after me. Hummmm.”

Grace’s voice was quieter than a hummingbird hovering above a spring flower. “Hummm.”

“A little louder, dear.”

She didn’t glance up, didn’t stir at all, but she did crank up the volume. “Hummmmmmmm.”

Miriam felt more than saw Gabe’s excitement. She held up a hand to hold him off—she so wanted him to see all Grace was capable of this afternoon.

“Excellent. Now head up! Let’s do some exercises. We’ll do them with you. Shoulder rolls first.”

Grace rolled her eyes, but she complied.

Miriam rolled her shoulders forward several times and then back. When she noticed Gabe was only watching, his eyes widened in amazement, she said, “It helps if
everyone
participates.”

“Huh? Oh. I thought we were supposed to be
talking
.”

“That comes in a minute. Did you even read the sheets?”

“Yes. Well, some of them. That is, I looked at the list of words.”

“That was sheet three.” Miriam turned back to Grace. “
Wunderbaar
. Neck back and open your mouth.”

They all stared up at the ceiling. Miriam noticed it needed painting, but of course she didn’t mention it.

“Now side to side.” She thought Grace might be giggling, but who could tell? The only sound so far had been the light hum.

“Yawn.” She’d found when they had done the exercises earlier that it was incredibly hard to yawn on command. They all stared at each other. Gabe started laughing first.

It was a sound of joy, and Miriam knew in her heart it came from hearing that earlier hum from Grace. She knew and rejoiced with him, but she scolded him nevertheless.

“Not helpful.”

“You both look like fish with your mouths wide open, waiting for a big fat worm.”

“
We
look like fish? Well, you happen to resemble a baby bird I once saw.”

Grace tapped on her arm, mid-yawn.

“Oh
gut
. Let’s see, deep breathing is next.”

“Is this all necessary?” Gabe asked as Grace popped out of her chair and began taking giant gulps of air, her hand pressed on her tummy.

“Is it necessary? If your horse were injured, would you take it out and run it full trot or would you carefully exercise it first?”

“If my horse were injured, I’d probably shoot it.”

Grace stopped mid-breath and stared at her dad as if he’d taken the rifle out of the gun cabinet and fired it in the kitchen.

“What did I say?”

“Never mind.” Miriam realized it was too late in the day for analogies. “Promise me you’ll do the exercises with her.”

“I promise.” Gabe popped another cookie in his mouth. “You’re doing such a great job. Sure you can’t come over tomorrow? You could bring more cookies.”

“I have papers to grade tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Miriam turned her full attention to Grace after straightening the three papers, which she had set on the table in front of her. “Hands on cheeks. Let’s make the brrr sound just like Belle.”

“Brrrrr…” Grace’s voice joined hers, a bit stronger than the earlier hummmm.

Gabe forgot about the cookies and leaned forward, eyes glued on his daughter.

“And the letter
M
followed by all the vowel sounds. Ready?”

“Ma, me, mo, mu, may…” Each one they managed to drag out a bit longer than the last, until “may” lasted a full five seconds, like the ending note of a song.

And indeed it did sound like a song to Miriam. She had dropped out with
mu
, so Grace’s voice rang through the kitchen—solitary and beautiful.

Beautiful. Suddenly Miriam remembered her mother’s words. “
She is a beautiful child
.”

Had she and Gabe been so focused on what was wrong with Grace that they had failed to appreciate her for what she was? Another of
Gotte’s
miracles.

The little girl stood there, in her kitchen, arms spread wide, eyes closed, and
may
falling from her lips.

Miriam glanced at Gabe, and then she had to look away at the tears in his eyes and the mix of raw emotions on his face—pain, confusion, and pride.

Pride won.

He hopped out of his chair and scooped up Grace in his arms. “You did it! You spoke!”

Grace’s eyes had popped open. She peeked over her dad’s shoulder at Miriam, surprise and embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

When Gave set her down the pushed the cookies toward her, they were all giggling.

“Perhaps he thinks you worked up an appetite, Grace.”

“Those exercises would work up an appetite in a grown man.” Gabe sat back in his chair, fingering his
kaffi
mug and thumping the table with his big hand.

“She did it. Did you hear her? She was singing like a little bird.”

“I heard.”

They sat at the table, grinning at one another.

Finally Miriam asked, “So you’ll do the exercises?”

“
Ya
, of course we will. Won’t we, Grace?”

She nodded as she chewed a mouthful of ginger cookie, no longer nibbling around the edge. Was it relief Miriam saw in her eyes? Hard to tell. There were so many emotions, so many different dynamics at play, and it wasn’t her place to know the hidden stories between the lines. It was only her place to help where she could.

“I should go. It’ll be deep dark soon.”

“Let me help you with your coat.”

“I’ll see you at church, Grace. Remember, try and describe your pictures while you’re drawing.”

Grace nodded, but it wasn’t until Miriam and Gabe were nearly at the front door that she jumped up, ran to where they stood, and threw her arms around Miriam’s waist. One tight hug, sending a river of warmth rushing over her, and then the child was gone, back to the kitchen, back to cookies and drawing, and—if she wasn’t mistaken—a bit of humming.

They stepped out on to the porch.

Gabe stood with his hand on the railing.

“Is it that simple? Would it have been that easy all along? A few exercises and she would have been talking?”

“It’s
gut
that she’s making progress, but I suspect it’s a combination of factors. No doubt last Friday’s incident affected Grace as much as it did you.”

“Also, she wants to please her teacher. That’s a strong incentive.”

Miriam smiled but didn’t respond. The hug had unnerved her. The entire visit had. She was becoming much too close to the Miller family.

“I don’t say that lightly, Miriam.
Danki
, for everything.”

“Gem
gschehne
.” The words were a whisper, but she knew from the intensity of Gabe’s look that he heard her.

Accepting his help, she climbed into her buggy and turned Belle toward home. This evening was so different from that night two weeks ago, but her emotions were no more settled.

Why did Gabe Miller have such a strong effect on her? Why did he cause her to question so many decisions in her life? Why couldn’t she be satisfied with what she had?

As Belle trotted into the evening toward her nice warm stall, Miriam tried to focus on the good things in her life, on the breakthrough they had just experienced with Grace, and on all the blessings she’d received from God.

She tried to ignore the aching place in her heart.

Chapter 23

M
iriam trudged into the barn wearing her brother’s mud boots, the oldest work dress she could find, and her father’s discarded winter coat. It had been placed in the charity box, but she’d pulled it out, dusted it off, and rolled up the sleeves.

So what if she looked ridiculous? It wasn’t as if anyone would see her.

And one more minute in the house cleaning floors would drive her completely
narrisch
. She needed time in the barn.

She’d barely begun mucking out Belle’s stall when her dad leaned against the half-opened door. “What are you doing out here, Miriam girl?”

“If you can’t tell, I must not be doing it very well.” She plunged the apple picker into the soiled wood shavings.

Joshua wasn’t put off by her foul mood. “I suppose you’re doing a fair enough job. I’m just wondering why you’re even bothering, is all. Your
bruder
is home this weekend, and he will take care of the stalls.”

“One less for him to do.” Miriam picked up another pile of shavings, shook it so the clean pieces fell to the floor, and dumped what was soiled into the wheelbarrow. Something about the burn in her muscles and the pungent smell eased the restlessness she’d been suffering from all day.

“There are three more when you’re done with that one, if you’re so inclined.”

Miriam paused and gave her dad her teacher’s look. Unfortunately, he didn’t even blink. “You’re teasing me, but maybe I will clean the other stalls. I can do men’s work. Doesn’t take a
Y
chromosome to shovel horse manure.”

Joshua reached up and ran his fingers through his beard, slowly and deliberately. Finally, he walked into the stall, turned over a crate, and sat on it. “I wouldn’t know about chromosomes, but I do know that when someone mucks out a stall by choice, probably something is bothering that person. Care to talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

She stopped and wiped away the sweat that was pooling on her forehead, and then she unbuttoned the oversized coat and laid it across the door.

“Usually you would be inside grading papers on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Done.”

“Or helping your
mamm
.”

“She shooed me out.”

“Huh. I thought I was the only one she sent to the barn.”

Miriam dropped more manure into the barrel and then stopped and leaned against the stall wall. “I’ve never heard her send you to the barn.”

“She can do it with a look.”

Staring down at her brother’s boots, Miriam thought about all the things knotted up inside her. She didn’t know how to begin to explain them to anyone, let alone her father.

“I think you’re happy about the progress with the Miller girl.”

“
Ya
.”

“Christmas is next week.”

Miriam glanced up at him and tried to smile. “Now you’re just poking around, trying to hit on what’s bothering me.”

Joshua didn’t deny it. “Ever have a sore place along your jaw but can’t quite figure out which tooth it is? Your tongue insists on darting around, testing every one, probing and checking, trying to figure it out. It isn’t as though your tongue can fix it or set it right, but it is as if you have a need to know.”

“Parents are like tongues?”

“In some ways. We’re always wagging about one thing or another.”

Miriam rolled her eyes and returned her attentions to cleaning the stall. Then her dad began to speak again, slowly, and quietly as if he were talking to himself. His next words surprised her more than if she’d stepped outside and found a field of spring flowers instead of the light dusting of snow she’d tramped through on her way into the barn.

“There was a time when I wasn’t sure what to do with my life. We weren’t living in this area then. When your
grossdaddi
first moved to Wisconsin, he settled in the Medford area. There weren’t many Amish in Wisconsin in the nineteen twenties. Your
grossdaddi
, he married your
grossmammi
in Pennsylvania, heard the land was cheap here, and that it was
gut
. Within a year they had packed up and moved.”

Miriam stopped shoveling and sat down on top of the pile of clean wood shavings. She’d heard this story many times before, but she never tired of it. She’d read much about the Great Depression, and Esther taught the historical period to the students at school. It was hard to imagine her grandparents making a move during that time.