The Amish Nanny (25 page)

“I'm confused,” Morgan said, shaking her head.

I exhaled slowly, wondering how best to explain.

“It's a long story,” Alice interjected, “but the bottom line is that there was one tiny little piece of the estate, five acres, in fact, that had been deeded separately from the rest. We call it the Kessler Tract. Because of some complications with the deed, Ada's grandmother had no choice but to retain ownership of it, even though she was able to sell all the rest. Back then no one involved really cared all that much because that little tract seemed fairly worthless. But recently some new issues have been taking place, issues that have suddenly rendered the Kessler Tract valuable after all.”

“That's why we're heading to Europe,” I added, “so we can straighten out the deed issues and sell the last remaining piece to Herr Lauten.”

Morgan seemed to be catching on, but despite the interested gleam in her eyes, I was far more concerned with Giselle's message.

Turning toward Daniel, I asked if she'd said anything else.

He read it again, out loud this time. “It says, ‘Ada, et. al, sorry, but I'm leaving for Germany for an exhibit and I'm not sure when I'll return. Giselle.' Nope, that's it.”

Standing, I excused myself from the group, even though I knew that might raise some eyebrows. I didn't care what Daniel or Morgan thought about my family or anything else.

Walking out on the deck alone, trying to catch my breath, I thought of Giselle and of Amielbach. With tears welling up in my eyes, my mind went to
Jane Eyre
. Morgan had said that the novel opened with Jane being told that she wasn't welcome anymore at the home of her extended family.

Just as I clearly wasn't welcome at Amielbach.

T
he next few days followed the same routine. Breakfast, time on the deck, studies, lunch. Recreation, a half hour of reading with Morgan, more time on the deck, dinner, board games, and bedtime. Morgan often joined us for Ping-Pong and, of course, meals and
Jane Eyre
, but the rest of the time she kept her distance. She almost always came to meals late, just after we'd said our silent prayer. Every once in a while, I'd see her talking to one of the crew or doing exercises on deck, but mostly she was by herself. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt day after day, and she didn't wear much makeup, if any. Whenever she wasn't interacting with us, she was reading.

Morgan spent a little bit of time with Daniel, but as far as I could tell always on the deck or in other public places. A few times I overheard them speaking in German, and they both sounded quite fluent. Daniel also spent time with Christy and me, asking for clarifications about Pennsylvania Dutch and helping me teach history lessons. Not surprisingly, Christy was willing to listen to Daniel say the same things she'd balked at when I presented them. Thanks to him, she would learn Anabaptist history after all.

The value of that history was driven home to me personally one afternoon when Christy and Alice were napping downstairs and Daniel, Morgan, and I were playing Monopoly in the rec room. Morgan owned both utilities, and it seemed that every time Daniel went around the board he landed on at least one of them. When that happened yet again, he marched his game piece to the Electric Company, rolled the dice to set the rent, and groaned when it came up double sixes. As he counted out the money to her, he grumbled that she should dump the stupid Electric Company and consider going solar like the Amish.

“Yeah, right,” Morgan scoffed. “Like that would ever happen, the Amish going solar.”

Daniel and I looked at each other and then back at her. “The Amish and Old Order Mennonites were some of the earliest users of solar energy,” he told her, but she didn't seem to believe him.

“No offense,” she said finally, glancing at me, “but the Amish are totally anachronistic. They drive horse and buggies, for goodness' sake. Why would they be interested in something as innovative as solar energy?”

It was a common misconception. For once, I didn't jump in with an explanation but sat back in my chair, smiling as I deferred to Daniel.

“It's not about the electricity itself,” he told her. “It's all about being off the grid, about not being dependent. They do use propane and that sort of thing, but solar energy is even better because of its self-sufficiency.” The two continued talking, but my mind wandered to hydro electricity and the impending plant near Amielbach. He finished his explanation, but before we started up again with the game, I asked Morgan what she knew about hydro power, particularly in Switzerland.

“Hydro power rocks.”

Startled, we both looked at her, and I realized we hadn't told her the specifics of the conflict that was raging around the Kessler Tract and the proposed hydro plant there.

“It just really ties in with green living,” Morgan added. “Doesn't something like half of Switzerland's electricity comes from hydro? Maybe more than half. I mean, that's sort of a given with all of the rivers originating in the Alps and everything. But I heard they have really been trying to create more small plants for individual villages.”

Daniel leaned forward. “Sounds like what Wasserdorf wants to do.”

“It's a great source of energy.” Morgan's voice was full of excitement. “One of the best, really. It's absolutely pollution free.”

“But not when it destroys a historical landmark.” Daniel was beginning to sound defensive.

“Well, no. And the wildlife and habitat of an area has to be considered. But historically speaking, the Swiss are very careful about their planning.”

Daniel snorted. “We'll see, won't we?” He picked up both dice and shook them angrily, even though it wasn't his roll.

I realized I'd waited a little too late to intervene and jumped into the conversation now to explain. “You need to know, Morgan, that we have a personal stake in this. Daniel and I have been dealing with a particular waterfall that the township of Wasserdorf wants to turn into a hydro plant.”

Calming down just a bit, Daniel told her what we were up against.

“Wow,” Morgan said. “That's quite the predicament. I get what you're saying though and totally agree. Sites like that have to be preserved. What's the value of history if it can't be seen and experienced? Especially if there's an alternative site for the plant somewhere else?”

Daniel and I nodded in unison. I was pleased to see that as someone who had no connection with the Anabaptists, Morgan shared our sentiment.

It was my turn, so I took the dice and rattled them in my hand.

“For now, forget the Amish and solar power,” I warned my opponents as I tossed the dice onto the board. “This Amish girl may not drive a car, but she's about to land on Free Parking.”

By our last full day at sea, Christy knew her multiplication tables forward and backward, and she could even do long division without crying. I counted both as major victories.

That afternoon up on the deck in the bright sunshine, Morgan got ready to read to us from
Jane Eyre
. We'd skipped it the day before because we'd had a Ping-Pong tournament. Alice and George had even joined us and, not surprisingly, Christy had won. Our time on the ship had seemed to revitalize her health. Perhaps this exact balance of rest, activity, and studies had been what her body needed to function at its best.

Morgan recapped the story for us first before she began reading, reminding us that Jane had been sent off to Lowood School by her mean aunt and was sad and lonely. One teacher there was kind to her, as was her only friend, Helen. A few times I noticed Christy was engrossed in the story, and I hoped she didn't identify with Jane. True, both were motherless, but Christy had more people loving her and committed to her than most children whose
mamms
were still alive. After a while, Christy leaned against my shoulder. It was the most affectionate she'd been with me yet. When Morgan read the part about Helen passing, though, Christy sat up straight.

“She
died
?”

Morgan nodded.

“Helen died?”

“Yes.”

Christy turned toward me, an odd, nervous energy in her expression. “Could we play more Ping-Pong?”

I hesitated and then said, “Sure.” Giving Morgan a knowing look as we rose to go, I hoped she didn't think Christy rude. I invited her to join us for our game, but she declined.

As we were leaving, Morgan moved over to the railing of the ship and leaned into the wind, her hair blowing out behind her.

The next morning, through the porthole in our cabin, we could see land far off in the distance. By the time we'd finished lunch, we were much closer to our destination, the French port city of Le Havre. We went out on deck and watched as the pilot, who would navigate the ship through the lock and into the harbor, arrived by motorboat. The captain of the ship invited Christy and me into the bridge to watch as the pilot maneuvered the ship into the narrow space. George came with us as well, and the three of us stood near the back, out of the way. Though I was fascinated by the vast array of high-tech equipment displayed throughout the room, Christy couldn't get over the most low-tech item in the whole place: tiny windows in the floor, one on the port side, one at starboard, which provided a bird's-eye view of the sides of the ship.

Noticing her fascination, the captain explained that even with all their many instruments and devices, it never hurt to take a peek and make sure they were getting it right as they docked.

George laughed and added, “I guess you could say that's the Plain part of the equation!”

After the ship had docked, the three of us thanked the captain and then joined the others out on the deck. Numerous containers covered the lowlands on either side of us. The day was gray and overcast, and the colorful orange, red, and blue boxes contrasted with the drab sky. Huge cargo ships, bigger even than the
Whitebird Trader
, lined the wharf. Ahead was a dry dock, where a military ship was being repaired. Beyond that was the city of Le Havre, rising up in a gentle slope from the sea. Europe was before us. My eyes stung, but not from cold or wind. In fact, it was surprisingly warm and there wasn't even a breeze. I was tearing up because a dream I didn't even know to dream was coming true. God had provided.

As we disembarked, making our way down the metal gangplank, my joy subsided a bit. If only Giselle would make it possible for me to meet her! That would truly make this dream complete.

Stepping onto solid ground for the first time in a week, it struck me that my legs still felt as though they were on the ship. Glancing at Christy and then at Morgan, I saw from their odd expressions and stances that they were feeling it too. We were talking about it when a sailor walked past and spoke.

“The question is, now that you got your sea legs, how do you give 'em back?” He just laughed and kept going, but I really wanted to know.

“How?” I called after him.

Looking over his shoulder, he told us that the only thing that would fix the problem was time. “Give it a few days, at the most, and you'll be right as rain.”

As we'd be spending the night here in Le Havre and taking the train on to Switzerland in the morning, I hoped I might be better by then.

George had hired a van to take us to our hotel, and as we waited for it to arrive he offered Morgan a lift to the train station. She gladly accepted and after we got there she even let Daniel help her with her heavy backpack while the rest of us sat in the van and waited just outside. She was twice as glad we were still there when she realized she'd miscalculated the time, missing her train entirely. She bought a prepaid cell phone and was getting ready to call her father when we invited her to stay with us at our hotel and catch her train the next day.

Morgan propped her backpack up against her leg and looked from Christy to me to Alice, a serious expression on her face. “I don't want to intrude.”

“We're not going to leave you on your own,” Alice said. “Please come with us.”

“Please come,” I echoed, absolutely sincere.

After a moment she nodded her assent and gratitude, and then she climbed back into the van for the ride to our hotel.