SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (15 page)

Levi carefully removed a shard of glass that still clung to the window frame. When his father wasn’t looking, he tipped his hat at me.

“What on earth happened here?” I asked.

Levi started to explain, but Abe touched his son’s shoulder, shaking his head solemnly. It was clear enough to me that someone had thrown a brick or something else through the Zooks’ living room window. But since the Amish were peace-loving folk, the police would never know about it.

“Merry!” Rachel called to me from inside the house. “Come on in. I’ve been waiting for you.”

My friend wasn’t exactly sitting around twiddling her thumbs. She was helping her mother with spring cleaning. And by the looks of things, it was a day to scour the tinware—loaf pans, cookie sheets, and pie pans. The Zooks definitely liked to have things sparkling and clean.

Rachel went to wash her hands at the sink before joining me. “Come on out to the barn,” she said, drying her hands on a corner of her black apron. There was a look of apprehension in her eyes.

I followed her through the large kitchen. The gray-painted walls looked bare without pictures; not a single border of wallpaper or a lacy white curtain graced the monotonous walls. A tan oilcloth covered the table with a royal blue place mat at its center. On it, a square glass dish held rooster and hen salt and pepper shakers and a white sugar bowl. Plain though it was, the Zook home was always one of my favorite places.

Outside, Rachel’s younger sisters stirred up a cloud of dust as they swept the back steps and sidewalk. I stopped to talk to Nancy and Ella Mae, but Rachel ignored the girls and made a beeline around the barn.

The Zooks’ barn was called a “bank barn” because an earthen ramp had been built on one side, leading to the doors on the second floor. The dirt ramp made it possible to store additional farm equipment on the upper level.

Rachel stood at the top of the ramp, motioning for me to hurry. “I can’t be long.
Dat
and Levi need help with the milking.”

I knew the Zooks started afternoon milking around four, so I ran to catch up with my friend.

“Someone is trying to hurt us,” she said softly, her eyes more serious than I’d ever seen them. She leaned against the wide barn door.

“Are you talking about the broken window?”

She nodded solemnly, much the way her father had. “Someone is mighty angry.” She paused, peering into the barn where the second story was divided into sections of feed bins, haymows, and two threshing floors. Then her voice became a whisper. “Very bad things are going on around here, Merry.”

I stared at Rachel. “What else?”

“Tuesday a hate letter came in the mail, and yesterday someone let Apple out of the barn.”

“Did you find your horse?”

“Dat and Levi found her near the Conestoga River. They looked all around everywhere outside and never did find out who let her out.” She tucked a strand of light brown hair into the bun at the back of her neck. “You know what I think? I think one of Jake Fisher’s boys is mad at us.”

Now I was really curious. “Old Jake has six boys.”

“But only one of them caught trouble with the Lancaster bishops.” She studied me hard. “If you promise you won’t tell anyone, I’ll say what happened.” “I’ll keep it quiet. I promise.”

Rachel stepped close to me, eager to divulge her secret about the Amish boy down the lane.

“I think Ben Fisher’s the one causing trouble,” Rachel whispered. “Dat caught him out joyriding with a carload of Englischer girls. Even after being baptized and all, Ben made no bones about it. Didn’t even say he was sorry.”

“Your father saw him for sure?”

“Jah.” Rachel nodded. “Worse than that, Dat found out Ben Fisher owns that car!” Cars were strictly forbidden among the Old Order Amish.

Just last fall Ben had made a vow to follow the rules of the
Ordnung
—the community’s agreed-on rules for Amish life. At his baptism, he would have been told it was far better to never make his vow than to make it and break it later.

Rachel continued. “My father told our deacon about it, and the church members had a meeting with the bishops. From what I heard, Ben didn’t go along with a kneeling confession for driving a car. And he wasn’t just a little huffy when he stormed out of the meeting.”

“Do you think Ben will confess?”

“The bishops gave him six weeks to do it, but the time’s already half up.” Rachel’s eyes were bright with sudden tears. “Oh, Merry, he’s one of Levi’s best friends, and he’s in danger of the
Meidung
—the shunning!”

I put my arm around Rachel. “You okay?”

“I’m afraid for him,” she cried. “The shunning is awful!” Rachel leaned her head against mine. “None of us can talk to him or eat with him if he’s shunned, and it can last for a lifetime unless—”

“Don’t worry,” I said, comforting her. “Maybe he’ll come back and repent.”

She wiped her eyes. “If only Levi could talk sense into Ben…

before he does something real terrible.”

Shunning was something I didn’t fully understand, but I knew it meant being cut off from the people you knew and loved. Like being disowned.

I followed Rachel through the hayloft and climbed down the ladder to the lower level. Cows shuffled into the barn, some mooing loudly as they slapped their tails, swishing flies away. Like clockwork, the herd headed for the milking stalls, twenty-four strong.

I wondered how strong an influence Levi might be on Ben Fisher. If Ben didn’t repent and sell his car, Levi could lose his friend forever. “Does your father think Ben’s the one who threw the brick?” I asked.

Rachel raised a finger to her lips and wiped her eyes, shielding them as her father entered the barn. He set down clanking milk buckets in preparation for the afternoon milking. “No one in the house talks about it, and neither must you,” she said, reminding me of my promise.

“You can count on me,” I replied firmly.

The next day was Friday and the school cafeteria was bustling with noise. Everyone seemed wired for the weekend. And the closer to summer we got, the harder it was to concentrate on school.

I was settled in at a table, leaning back in my chair while I ate a tuna sandwich. Chelsea and Lissa sat with me, having hot lunch. Elton Keel sat three tables behind us. He was holding a hamburger in one hand and, with the other, clicking his pen to beat the band.

Chelsea noticed me watching him. “I wonder if I could check out that supposedly incredible picture of you,” she said. “The one Elton Keel, that uniquely gifted person, drew in pen.”

“Don’t make fun,” I said, chomping down on my words.

Chelsea’s voice rose against the swell of the lunchroom sounds.

“I’m just saying it like it is,” she said, reminding me of my “lecture”

on the bus yesterday.

I took a sip of soda. Chelsea had no right to throw things back in my face like this. But I decided not to make a big deal of it and kept eating.

Chelsea persisted. “What do ya think? Does Elton still have that sketch he did of you?”

“He might,” I said. “He carries his artwork around with him everywhere.”

Chelsea laughed. “In that plaid little-boy backpack of his?”

Lissa intervened, changing the subject. “I saw him yesterday on Hunsecker Road at the covered bridge,” she said. “Looked like he was sketching it.”

Was Elton drawing the same thing I was? Too weird. “There’s an old millhouse near that bridge, built back in the 1700s, I think.

Maybe that’s what he’s sketching.”

Chelsea grinned. “Bridges, millhouses, and silly girls,” she teased.

“What an amazing portfolio.”

I kept quiet. Chelsea was really pushing things and it bugged me.

Someone yelled my name. “Hey, Merry!”

I turned to see Cody Gower sauntering around with a trayful of food. His usual entourage of male trouble followed.

“Where’s the new man in your life?” He shot a grin toward Elton’s table.

“Pick on someone else,” I said as he passed within punching distance.

“Hey, whatever the retard lover says.” He hurled his words back at me as he and his friends spread out, taking up the entire table across from us.

“Hey, dork brain,” Chelsea blurted out. “Get a life.”

I pushed my tray back. “Oh, so now you’re on my side.”

Chelsea ignored my comment, staring at Cody. “What a total jerk.”

Suddenly, Cody’s table shook with fierce pounding. The noise caught the attention of everyone in the room. Cody leaped out of his seat. Then he blasted, “This is for
yo-o-ou
, Elton Ke-e-e-el. One, two, three, hit it!”

On cue, the guys at his table—Cody included—began clicking their ballpoint pens, held high for everyone to see. The cafeteria rocked with laughter. And my brain nearly exploded.

Elton watched the commotion with a deadpan expression. Who could tell what perceptions flitted around inside his mind?

I wanted to get up and give Cody and his cohorts a taste of my anger. That’s when Jon Klein showed up at our table.

Chelsea excused herself almost immediately while Lissa and I filled Jon in on what he’d missed. “It was truly horrible,” I said, describing the humiliating act.

Lissa nodded.

“We should do something,” I said.

“Like what?” Lissa responded.

“Let’s pour soda down Cody’s back.” I leaped out of my seat, ready for justice.

“No, Merry!” Jon grabbed my arm. “That won’t solve anything.”

I knew he was right. I slumped down in my seat, simmering.

“Say that with all
t
’s,” I muttered.

Jon grinned. “C’mon, Mer. Let’s help Elton instead.”

“How?”

Jon picked up his fork. “What about—”

“I know!” I surprised myself with a sudden outburst. “Why don’t you invite Elton to our youth service? Remember, we’re having that young artist-evangelist from Vermont tomorrow night?”

“Sounds cool enough,” Jon said.

“Yeah, he does really great chalk drawings,” I said. And since Elton understood the language of pictures…

It was pure genius!

The chaos at the next table began to die down. Even though Cody was trying desperately to worm some sort of response out of me, I deliberately refused to react. Sigh. What if I acted upon everything in my heart? What if everyone did? The world would grind quickly to a horrible end.

“Please, pardon me, pals,” Jon said, getting up. He proceeded to walk right up to the table where Elton was still eating…and clicking his pen.

Lissa smiled at me, her blue eyes shining. “You really like Jon, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Don’t ask what, Merry. You know what.”

I looked away from her curious smile. “Jon’s a good guy.”

“And?”

“And we’re good friends.”

“But?”

“But nothing—that’s it.” I watched Elton nod his head again and again. “Good! Looks like he wants to come.”

“Really?” Lissa turned around to check it out.

I happened to look over at Cody’s table just then. They were nodding their heads—every single last one of them.

“I hate this,” I muttered. “Cody Gower has no heart.” I pointed to the rowdy ringleader and his table of followers imitating Elton.

Lissa shook her head. “Guess we oughta invite Cody to the youth meeting, too,” she said innocently.

“What?” I said, horrified.

“You know,” Lissa said, “seems like Cody could use a good dose of church, or something.”

“Something is right,” I said under my breath.

I have to admit I wasn’t thinking in terms of God or church at that moment. My thoughts were on the seat portion of Cody’s blue jeans—as in a powerful, swift kick!

By last period, everyone in school had heard the news. Elton Keel had been caught starting a fire in a trash can outside the school. Suspended for three days!

Chelsea, Lissa, and I closed in around Jon’s locker, eager for more news. Since Jon worked in the office during last hour, he was the logical person to interrogate.

“Did Elton really do it?” I asked.

“Yeah, did you hear anything?” Lissa probed.

“All I know is I saw Elton come into the principal’s office for questioning today.”

“When did the fire happen?” I asked.

“Yesterday,” Jon said. “Sometime before lunch.”

“Did the cops show up?” Lissa’s eyes grew wide. “Was my dad one of them?”

“Your dad and his partner were there all right. It was some sad scene,” Jon replied. “And Elton confessed to the charge. Well, he never really said he did it—just kept nodding.”

Chelsea flung her schoolbag over her shoulder. “C’mon, guys, we’ve got a bus to catch,” she said, dashing for her locker.

Cody Gower and his friends passed us in the hall. “Hey, Merry, what do ya say? Looks like you’ve got yourself a real live firebug!” he taunted.

Jon spun around. Anger shot from his eyes. “Gower!” he yelled. “Leave Merry out of this.”

Cody laughed and elbowed his friends, slinking down the hallway.

I felt sick about Elton. This had to be some kind of mistake!