Miriam's Heart (14 page)

S
usanna squealed with joy as the Ferris wheel turned, lifting them in the air before pausing, suspending them high over the amusement park. It was twilight and everywhere below, lights were blinking on. Miriam could still make out the ocean to the east and the narrow white ribbon of sand along the water’s edge.

The basket swayed and Susanna clutched Miriam’s hand. “Falling!”

“No,” John assured her. “We won’t fall. Look, you can see the merry-go-round. Hear the music?”

“Music,” Susanna agreed. “I like the
merry-go-around.
I want to go down.”

Miriam slipped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “We won’t fall,” she assured her. “It’s all right, Susanna.”

“I want to go down,” Susanna said. “My tummy hurts.”

Miriam looked at John. “I warned you not to buy her more cotton candy.”

John smiled. “She’ll be fine, won’t you, Susanna? You’re just like a bird, flying in the air, round and round.”

John’s hand covered Miriam’s and Susanna’s, and Miriam felt a little thrill at his touch. She’d deliberately put her sister between them. It was too easy to be intimate on these rides and she didn’t want to be tempted. In spite of Susanna’s fears, they were both having a wonderful time.

The day had been one marvel after another. Susanna had laughed at herself in the silly curved mirrors. They’d thrown balls at silly red and yellow wooden clowns, and she’d beaten John. She’d knocked every one down and won the prize—a stuffed bear that she gave to a little Hispanic girl in a red dress who’d been cheering her on. John had treated them to pizza, the sweet that she’d learned was called cotton candy—not candy cotton—and a frozen chocolate banana on a stick. They’d ridden the merry-go-round and played miniature golf on the roof of a building, with the ocean as a backdrop. She’d beaten John at the golf game as well, and he’d teased her about it. Best of all, they’d taken off their shoes and walked down to wade in the waves that washed against the beach.

The Ferris wheel began to rotate again. Susanna screamed as the rocking basket descended toward the ground and then rose again, even faster. Salt air blew against Miriam’s face, threatening to tear away her
kapp
and send it flying through the night sky. With her free hand, she grabbed the knot under her chin and held tight. The earth rose to meet them at a frightening speed. When the Ferris wheel finally came to a stop, she was dizzy and her first steps were unsteady.

John caught her arm. “Easy. We can’t have you taking a tumble,” he said.

Now that they were back on firm ground, Susanna’s fears appeared to have dissolved. “Let’s go again!” she urged, clapping her hands and doing a little dance from side to side. “Let’s go again.”

“That’s enough for one night.” Miriam straightened her sister’s
kapp
and tied it firmly to keep it from blowing away in the stiff breeze.

A sunburned couple in shorts and sweatshirts gawked and pointed at Susanna, but whether they were staring at her Amish clothing or because she had Down syndrome, Miriam didn’t know. When the woman fished a camera out of her purse and aimed it in Susanna’s direction, John stepped in front of Susanna, blocking the shot. The man said something rude, and Miriam could see John quickly losing his temper.

Miriam took hold of Susanna’s hand and tucked her free arm through the inside of his elbow. “Let’s go. We have to get up early in the morning for church.”

“I’m sorry about those people,” John said, hustling them away from the Englishers.

“It’s not your fault,” Miriam said. “It happens all the time.” She would have let go of John’s arm, but he held her firmly. A small flush of excitement made her giddy, and she hoped he wouldn’t think she was too forward.

Susanna’s short legs pumped as she hurried to keep up. “We’re gonna ride in the blue truck!”

“Yes,” John agreed. “In the blue truck.”

“Can I blow the horn?” Susanna begged. “Can I?”

“Ne,”
Miriam said. “The horn is for emergencies. We could frighten another driver.”

“Or a horse,” Susanna said.

“Or a horse,” John agreed.

Miriam glanced at him. “It was a lovely day. Thank you for taking us.” They walked out of the noisy building with its flashing lights and loud music, back to the truck parked on the street.

“Can we come again tomorrow?” Susanna asked. “I like the merry-go-around. I want to ride the white horse with the bell.”

Soon they were driving down Rehoboth Avenue in light traffic. Susanna’s nose was pressed against the truck window, staring at the tourists that crowded the sidewalks and flowed onto the street. “That girl is in her underpants!” Susanna declared. “Where’s her dress?”

“Shh, don’t look. She’s English,” Miriam explained, clapping a hand over her sister’s eyes. “That’s her swimming suit.”

Susanna wiggled aside so that she could see. “But I can see her— She’s bad.”

“Not bad,” John corrected. “Just not Plain. They’re different.”

“She’s silly,” Susanna said. “Fast.”

“Susanna,” Miriam admonished. “We don’t talk about people.”

“But—”

“Shh.”

John chuckled. “She’s right. The girl is silly. She’d be prettier with more clothes on.”

“Do you really think so?” Miriam asked.

“I do. I think you’re beautiful, just as you are.”

They rode in silence for a little while, and soon Susanna was asleep, her head on Miriam’s shoulder.

“Did you have fun?” John asked, quietly.

Miriam nodded. “I’ve been to the ocean before, but never Fun Land. I had a wonderful time.”

“Have you ever been swimming?”

“
Ya.
Sometimes we go to a little beach on the bay. Not with swimming suits, but in our clothes. My sisters and I play in the water.”

“My mother has a swimming pool in her yard. I could take you there. I know she has extra suits for my sisters.”

Miriam chuckled. “Not for me. The Old Order Amish are more…more conservative than the more liberal Mennonite churches, I think. I don’t judge girls who wish to wear revealing clothing, but we are taught to dress modestly.”

“No swimming.”

“No swimming in bathing costumes,” she corrected him.

“Got it.” He smiled at her in the darkness. “There’s a charity spaghetti dinner at Uncle Albert’s church next Friday night. Would you like to come?”

“The Mennonite church?”

“Yes. But there won’t be a regular church service. I think a missionary’s going to give a PowerPoint presentation and a talk afterward.”

“What’s that? A PowerPoint presentation?”

He glanced at her, but didn’t look as if he thought she was dumb for asking. “It’s sort of like a slide show, only it’s done on a personal computer and then shown on a movie screen. But we wouldn’t have to stay for that, if you didn’t want to,” he said quickly. “Would you be allowed to come, do you think?”

“If I bring one of my sisters. There aren’t rules against going to other church benefits, John. The Old Order Amish Church isn’t as strict as you seem to think.”

“I’d like you to meet some of the members. If you…if we decide to go to the Mennonite church, they’ll be part of our community.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that.” Miriam spoke softly, not wanting to wake Susanna. “I can’t even imagine becoming part of a new church. It’s such a big decision.”

“You don’t need to make it yet.” He smiled at her. “Unless you don’t like spaghetti.”

“Love it,” she confided. “And it’s the one thing Mam never learned to cook. Hers is all tomatoey. But don’t you dare tell her that I said so.”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” he said, reaching down and taking her hand in his. “I’m so glad you came today. I had fun, too, a lot of fun.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She and John were holding hands, and it made her feel warm and safe. “Even with Susanna along?”

He laughed. “Especially with Susanna.”

“And we went up high! High!” Susanna exclaimed. It was Sunday morning and Mam, Irwin and Miriam’s sisters were just leaving the house for church. Susanna was telling her mother for the fourth time about her ride on the Ferris wheel and the blue cotton candy John had bought her the night before.

Services were at Charley’s parents’ house today, and Miriam had hitched Blackie to the family buggy. Since Mam was bringing food to share at the noon meal, they had loaded the bowls and covered trays into the back of the carriage, along with the jars of lemonade and iced tea.

Miriam guided Blackie close to the back steps. “Everyone ready?” She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. It had been late when she’d gotten home from her date with John, and she’d lain awake for a long time thinking of all she’d seen and done…and thinking of John and what it would be like to be part of his world.

“Charley!” Susanna pointed. “Morning!”

“Morning, sunshine!”

Miriam turned to see him strolling around the corner of the barn, hands in his pockets. She glanced at Ruth, who shrugged and climbed up into the buggy. Miriam got down and walked across the yard. “Isn’t church at your house?” she asked. “
Ya.
I thought I could walk you there.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Unless you’re too tired after your Saturday night date.”

“I’ll be happy to walk with you. It will give me a chance to stretch my legs before services. Let me tell Mam.”

“Maybe you need one of your sisters to walk with us, so that it doesn’t worry your uncle Reuben?” Charley suggested.

“We’ll be fine,” she assured him.

If they cut across the fields, it was less than two miles to Charley’s father’s place, and the day was perfect—sunny, but not too hot, with just a hint of autumn in the air. The way led through the back pasture, over a stile that Dat had built, through Samuel’s woods and past the school. Neither of them spoke. But surprisingly, she wanted to talk to Charley. She wanted to point out the warbler flitting through the bushes and the last of the summer’s clover, bursting with white blossoms. And she wanted to tell Charley about the rude woman who’d wanted to take Susanna’s picture at the amusement park.

Once they reached the road that ran in front of the school, they walked along it for a few hundred yards before taking a farm lane that crossed an English farmer’s property. Miriam couldn’t stand the silence between them any longer, she said, “Not so long ago and you were taking this lane every day to the schoolhouse.”

“
Ya.
I was.”

She waited. When he added nothing more, she had to force down her irritation. This walk had started out pleasantly, but she could tell now that Charley had a bee in his hat over something. She could see it in his face—in the way he held his mouth. “We waded in the waves yesterday. At the ocean. The water was warm.”

“September. Should be.”

She looked at him. “And you would know so much about the Atlantic Ocean?”

“As much as you.”

“Don’t be mean, Charley.”

“Am I being mean? I came to walk you to church, didn’t I?” He stooped and picked a dandelion blossom and then another. When he had three, he braided the stems together, and then handed them to her. “See, like an Englishman, I give you flowers.”

She laughed. “Some bouquet.”

That broke the ice. Soon they were teasing and chatting as they had before Charley had ruined everything by asking if he could court her. She liked Charley like this: familiar, sweet, funny.

“Fish are biting good in Dat’s pond,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow, after supper, we could try and catch a few bass.”

“Mam likes fish. It would be good if I could catch enough for breakfast.”

“Bring Irwin. We’ll make him clean the fish.”

“He’ll love that.”

“Can you clean fish?” He stopped, pushed the brim of his hat up with a forefinger and looked at her.

“Sure. Dat taught me when I was little.”

“And I can clean fish. So it’s only fair we give Irwin the chance to learn how to do it, isn’t it? And it will give him something to complain about, so he’ll be happy.”

Miriam chuckled. “He does whine a lot. I think he does it to get attention.”

“Exactly.” Charley tugged her bonnet string. “So we’re building his character. Something even your uncle Reuben would approve of.”

She tried to look serious. “This is Sunday. We’re on our way to church. It’s not a time to poke fun at a preacher.”

Charley shook his head. “I wouldn’t think of it. Preacher Reuben is a wise man. He’d be happy that we’re taking an interest in Irwin—taking him fishing, having him along as a chaperone
and
showing him the value of work.”

She brushed a piece of straw off her Sunday apron. “It sounds right when you say it like that, but I don’t trust you. You’re always up to something.”

“Ne.”
Charley started walking again, matching his longer strides to her shorter ones. “I’ll come for you both in Dat’s buggy if you want.”

“No need. We can roller-skate as far as your lane. Ruth bought Irwin a good pair of used skates last week at the auction. I know he’s dying to use them. We’ll meet you at the pond.”

“I’ll take you fishing on the ocean, if you want. There are charter boats going out of Lewes. I could hire a driver and—”

“I don’t want to fish in the ocean, silly,” she interrupted, touched that he would offer. “I’m happy just fishing for bass in your Dat’s pond. You don’t have to impress me.”

“Not like John?”

“What I do with John on a date is one thing. What I do with you is another. Just be yourself, Charley. Don’t act jealous and don’t try to make me feel bad that I’m having fun with John. Just be my friend like you’ve always been…someone I can trust and tell my secrets to.”

He kicked at a tuft of grass. He was wearing black leather high-tops and they looked new. In fact, his coat and blue shirt were new, as well. Charley looked especially fine on this Sunday morning. He’d shaved, and someone—probably his mother—had trimmed his hair.

“Do you have secrets, Miriam?” he asked.

“Not really. You know what I mean. I can tell you what I’m thinking. But if I did have secrets, I’d like to think that I could tell you.”