SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (41 page)

Rachel’s voice sounded edgy. “Guess I oughta be sorry, but…” Her voice trailed off.

I knew why she’d scared us. Rachel was mad.

We walked all the way down the slope to Susie’s jar of fireflies, then out of the willows and through the pasture in silence.

When Rachel spoke, her voice trembled. “I should be awful ashamed, cousin Merry.”

I wanted to say
you’re right,
but I didn’t. “Look,” I snapped, “I’m not putting ideas into Levi’s head, if that’s what you think.”

“Well, I think ya must be.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Maybe ya oughta leave him be,” she huffed.

Now I was mad! I stopped in front of the picket fence. “In case you didn’t know it, Rachel, it wasn’t my idea to be Levi’s girlfriend, and if you think it was, maybe you’d better go talk to him!”

It was the first time we’d ever exchanged harsh words.

“Let him find an Amish girl,” she said. It was a desperate plea.

“If that’s what he wants, fine with me,” I retorted. But I knew better. Levi liked me better than all the girls in his Amish crowd. He’d said so!

I glanced over my shoulder at the willows. “I know you were listening in on Susie and me before, so don’t say you weren’t.”

“I wouldn’t lie to ya.” She picked up her long skirt and climbed over the fence.

Of course she wouldn’t lie. After all, Rachel was Amish, through and through.

When we reached Susie, I handed over the second jar of fireflies. “You scared me,” Susie told Rachel.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said, touching her sister’s head. “It was foolish.”

I wasn’t in the mood to hang around, not the way Rachel had been acting, so I started to tell Susie good-bye.

“Please don’t leave yet, Merry,” she pleaded. “It’s still early. Maybe Grossdawdy will read ya his poem.”

Rachel brushed off her apron, then turned and headed for the back door without saying good-bye—so foreign to the way she usually treated me. Susie didn’t seem to notice the friction between her big sister and me, though. She reached for my hand, leading me around to the front porch, where both Zook grandparents were sitting and chatting in their matching hickory rockers.

The two of them looked sweet relaxing there, and I began to forget about the trick Rachel had pulled in the willows.

“Grossdawdy, how’s your poem comin’?” Susie asked, going up the porch steps to lean on his shoulder.

“Jah,
well
Ich
bins zufreide
,” he said softly with a smile. “All right. I’m satisfied.”

“Could ya read it for Merry?” she pleaded.

Grandmother Zook shook her head. “He still has a ways to go yet.”

“That’s okay. I can wait,” I said, leaning on the railing. “Susie told me the title—it sounds beautiful.”

“Jah,” Grandma Zook said, nodding her head up and down as she rocked. “Wonderful-
gut
title.”

“Where did you get the idea for it?” I asked.

He stroked his white beard. “From my youngest granddaughter here.” He looked at Susie, grinning. “She loves them fireflies,” he said. “And she’s a lot like ’em, too. Shining her little light for the world to see.”

“
I’m
not a lightning bug!” Susie exclaimed, then burst into a stream of giggles.

“Hush, child,” Grandma said. “It’s eventide. Time to reflect on the day…time to read the Bible some.”

“And pray,” Grandfather added. “Practice saying ‘The Lord’s Prayer.’ ”

Susie bowed her head and folded her hands. “ ‘Our father, which art in heaven,’ ” she began, reciting the entire prayer.

When we opened our eyes, Grandfather whispered, “Now in German,” with a grand twinkle in his eyes. And Susie started over again.

Afterward, the screen door opened and Levi came out. “Time for evening prayers.” His face broke into a broad smile when he spotted me.

“I better say good-night,” I told Susie.

She came over to me, putting her bare foot between the slats in the white porch railing. “Will ya come tomorrow?”

I smiled at her, warmed by her attention. “If you want me to.”

“I do, I do!” she sang.

“Susie!” Grandmother Zook said as she got up off the rocker and headed into the house. “Come along.”

Susie picked up the jars of fireflies. “Quick,” she whispered. “We hafta let ’em go.”

“Better not keep your family waiting,” I warned, remembering her grandmother’s tone of voice.

Opening the lid on her jar, Susie looked at me, expecting me to do the same. “Ready, set—now!” When I opened mine, a wispy spray of light floated out.

“Truly beautiful,” I whispered.

Susie turned to go inside, and I noticed Levi still waiting at the screen door. “Merry,” he called to me. “I hafta talk to ya.”

I was curious about the urgency in his voice. “Something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow night I’ll pick you up in my buggy.”

“I…I don’t know if I should,” I said, thinking about the things Rachel had said before. “Maybe we should talk about it.”

He frowned. “Well, then, can ya meet me in the barn after last milking?”

“Okay.”

So it was set. I would meet with Levi in the barn, probably the hayloft, so we could discuss getting together later—to talk about something else. This was truly bizarre!

When I arrived home, Dad was enjoying a bowl of chocolate ice cream. His Bible was open on the table. I pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down.

“How was
your
day?” he asked, looking up.

I told him about spending the day with Susie Zook. “She’s real spunky, that girl,” I said, explaining about her fall from the tree.

“Susie’s fearless—I don’t think she’s afraid of anything.”

Dad nodded. “Maybe she knows this verse in the Old Testament.” He moved the Bible closer to me.

“Which one?” I leaned over the table.

“Here—Second Chronicles, thirty-two, seven. ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged.’ ”

“Maybe you’re right.” I laughed. “But I never hear Susie quoting Bible verses. Not Rachel, either. Some Amish don’t teach their children to memorize scriptures.”

“But they
do
get their children outside and working, doing chores, and learning new things real young. That toughens them up.” He glanced at the ceiling as though he was thinking back. “I remember when Levi was about six. Old Abe had him out plowing the field by himself.”

“That young?”

Dad scooped up more ice cream. “Come to think of it, Levi was out driving a pony cart up and down SummerHill Lane around the same age.”

No wonder Levi’s so comfortable driving a buggy,
I thought, remembering how he’d steered us through congested traffic today.

“Well, little Susie’s just like him,” I said. “But catching fireflies is her big interest now.” I described how she and I had run around putting them in canning jars.

“I did the same thing as a kid. We’d catch them and pull their tails off. The light would keep shining for a long time afterward.”

“So you’ve told me. I still think that’s gross.” I glanced around the kitchen, even leaned my chair back and peered into the dark dining room. “Where is everyone?”

“Skip’s out on a date, and your mother’s visiting Miss Spindler. Took a plate of cookies over to her.”

“Old Hawk Eyes,” I said, referring to the neighbor behind us on Strawberry Lane. “Usually by this late in the summer, she has the neighborhood news posted on every street corner.”

Dad chuckled. “What would it be like, living for the sheer pleasure of gossiping?”

“It’s gotta be mighty boring—I mean, it sorta tells you something about
her
life, right?”

“Can you imagine how hot her phone lines must be?” He dug into more ice cream. “Speaking of phones, Lissa Vyner called about thirty minutes ago.”

I didn’t have to guess why she was calling. She was probably still recuperating from seeing me with Levi today.

Reluctantly, I scooted my chair out from the table. “Mind if I use your phone?”

Glancing up, he mumbled something and nodded. I headed down the hall to Dad’s private study and closed the door.

Lissa answered the phone on the first ring.

“Hi,” I said. “You called?”

“Merry, have you lost your mind?” I should’ve known this wasn’t going to be friendly.

“That’s it, cut right to the chase,” I muttered.

“Look, Mer, I know you’re mad about something.”

“What’re you talking about?”

She breathed into the phone. “Well, if you won’t level with me, at least maybe you can clear up something else.”

Here it comes,
I thought.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw you in that…that…”

“Amish buggy,” I stated matter-of-factly. “Repeat after me: b-u-g-g-y.”

“Merry! What’s wrong with you?”

“Maybe I should ask
you
that question.”

“I’m just worried,” she said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You’re worried because I happen to have some very nice Amish friends?”

“C’mon, you know what I’m talking about,” she said.

“Oh,
do
I?”

Lissa sighed into the phone. “You’re making this hard.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” I said, ready to cut this discussion short. “Why don’t you just spell it out?”

“Okay. Why are you still hanging out with that Amish guy?”

“And why not?”

She was obviously past the boiling point. “We…I…thought it was only a crush, that you’d be over Levi Zook by now.”

“Well…welcome to the real world!”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” She sounded completely baffled. “You’re not actually going out with him, are you?”

“Why should I change my mind now?”

“It’s just that I hoped you’d get tired of being with those Amish farmers and…and come back—you know, to us.”

“Who’s us?”

“Your
real
friends.”

I almost choked. “Real friends don’t do this.”

“Merry, you’re turning the whole thing around. I called to tell you that I miss you. So does everyone else.”

Jon too?
I wondered.

“I got a postcard from Chelsea today,” she continued. “She’s in California at Disneyland.”

“I know…so?”

“She asked how you were doing, like she was concerned.”

Chelsea Davis and I had known each other since grade school. Recently, we’d gotten better acquainted when we teamed up on a social studies project at the end of the school year.

“Chelsea doesn’t have to worry,” I said. “And neither do you. I’m having the time of my life. And if you can’t understand that, then I guess we have no reason to be talking right now.”

“But, Merry—”

I hung up. Just like that—hung up the phone.

The next morning I slept in. Saturdays were made for sleeping late, especially when it was so warm and humid outside. Two more days before the sizzling Fourth.

Halfway between consciousness and drowsiness, while curling up with my pillow, I thought of Lissa. I’d done the wrong thing by hanging up on her, even though I felt she had it coming. Doing the right thing wasn’t always easy, especially for an impulsive person like me, but the fact that I’d led Lissa to the Lord made me feel irresponsible.

The whole thing had gotten out of hand, starting with the way she’d accused me of losing my mind just because I was friends with Levi. After breakfast, I thought of calling her to apologize, but Dad was involved with some computer work in his study, and I didn’t want to risk being overheard on another phone in the house.

Mom was busy baking for the Fourth of July. She had the idea that a holiday—
any
special day—was an automatic excuse to cook up a storm. And company or not, we always had oodles of food around. Even for incidental days like April Fool’s Day and Mother-in-Law Day.

I hurried upstairs to my room, hoping I wouldn’t be asked to divide egg whites or measure sugar for Mom’s pies. The truth was, I felt betrayed. She’d sided last night with my brother on the Levi issue, accepting what Skip had said—that Levi was out to convert me—as fact. After all, I was her daughter, her own flesh and blood. She ought to know me better than that!

I’d tried to block last night’s conversation out of my mind, but her words rang in my memory:
Love is blind.

How could Mom jump to such a conclusion? Why did she have such a hard time remembering what it was like being fifteen, nearly sixteen?

A brief, yet intensely satisfying feeling stirred through me as I reveled in my secret knowledge. Levi had no intention to convert me to Amish. But he
did
have plans…for himself. Now, if I could just hear them straight from Levi’s lips.

I set to work organizing my room, sorting through scenic photos I’d taken last month, arranging them according to subject matter: flowers, trees, the banks of the Conestoga River, and an old covered bridge. My plan was to purchase another scrapbook with next week’s allowance.

That finished, I played with my cats, forgetting about calling Lissa. Then I really lost track of time while going through my bookcase. Looking through my poetry collection, I found some great stuff to show Susie’s grandfather.

After lunch, Mom asked me to take a lemon meringue pie over to Miss Spindler. I watched as she placed it carefully inside her clothlined pie basket. “What’s the occasion?” I asked.