The Love Letters (14 page)

B
y the time Marlena put Angela Rose down for her nap that afternoon, she was breathless and felt flushed. She hurried out the back door, rehearsing what she'd told Mammi about needing to run an errand on foot, without mentioning where or what, trying her best to shield Small Jay's secret. Mammi, who was already tired from market, assured her that was fine; she would just sit at the table and shell a batch of peas Ellie Bitner had left on the porch while they were gone.

Now, as Marlena moved down through the willow grove and scanned the area below the pond, she thought it best to simply wait for Small Jay there. No sense risking being seen near their lane or backyard.

In due time, she heard Small Jay coming along, talking to his cat, and she turned and followed, albeit out of sight, parallel to him in the grove. She could see Ellie's son limping out toward the road, his head turning from side to side.
He's looking for me.

When he'd finally arrived at the end of the lane, she slipped out of the trees and onto the road. There, they'd be obscured
from the view of either house. “I saw ya headin' this way,” she explained.

He smiled and nodded shyly. “You remembered!”

“I did say I'd go with you.” She matched her pace to his slow stride, wishing for a way to help the poor boy get down the road and back more easily. Mammi's car would be just the thing. Of course, she didn't have the slightest notion how to drive.

“Dorcas sure is high-minded today,” he said, “since she babysat for your baby.”

“Well, my
niece
.”

He shrugged. “I saw her takin' the bottle when I went in for the noon meal.” Small Jay said he couldn't get over how tiny she was. “Smaller even than I must've been.” His face clouded. “But of course . . . when she grows up, she'll probably be bigger than I am now.” He pushed his hands into his pockets.

Marlena felt a tug on her heart. “Sometimes, though . . . small is better.”

Small Jay looked up at her. “
Vas?
”

“Sure,” she said confidently. “My Mamma says
Gott
ain't hindered by the size of the vessel—that's you or me. In fact, she says that His power is seen even better in those who are weak or small . . . or less fortunate.”

Small Jay's eyes widened. “So . . . sometimes small
is
better?”

“Evidently that's the way the Lord looks at it.”

Small Jay marveled. “Does that mean He can work through
me
?” Small Jay said, looking up at her just then. “Ya sure?”

“Last Lord's Day at Mammi's church, I heard the preacher read a Scripture verse that said when we are the weakest, the Lord is strong.”

Small Jay whistled to his cat. “Hear that, Sassy? God can work through even the smallest of us.”

Sassy cocked her head, and Marlena smiled, encouraged by Small Jay's improved mood.

When they arrived at the mill, Small Jay knocked at the door where he said he'd seen Boston going in and out. But there was no response, nor any sign of the border collie Small Jay referred to as Allegro. He knocked again, but still nothing. “Something's wrong—he's
always
here,” he insisted.

The boy appeared to be frantic, creeping back and forth from one door to another, knocking, waiting, then knocking . . . resorting to pounding with his small fist, all the while calling, “Boston!” again and again.

At last, when she could stand it no longer, Marlena intervened, lest the neighbors wonder what the world was happening, or lest the poor boy hurt himself. “I'm sure he'll be back later,” she assured Small Jay.

But he shook his head and resisted her resolve to head home. Standing his ground, arms folded, he pouted and limped over to a tree stump, sitting there for a time. Then, without warning, he got up and went to the creek's edge and peered down, pointing out the location where his so-called friend kept a milk bottle, a carved-out area where the creek water ran past. “Where'd Boston go?” he said softly now, as if talking to himself. “Where?”

“Maybe just walkin' his dog,” Marlena suggested. “Like you do Sassy.”

Small Jay brightened at that. “Then he'll be back,” he exclaimed. “I wanna wait for him!”

Marlena sighed. Waiting didn't seem like a good idea. “Might not be wise to loiter on private property,” she said, looking around.

Clearly dejected, Small Jay finally picked up Sassy, and
they walked toward the road. “I bought my Dat some black licorice yesterday,” he told Marlena, who said that was a thoughtful thing to do. “
Jah
, I'm tryin' to do nice things for my father.”

Marlena wondered why he was telling her this, but she was glad she could be there to listen to the boy, who talked more like a youngster than a teen.

They had gone only a short distance when a stout neighbor woman came rushing out onto the road, her long black apron flying, her hair wrapped in a triangular blue scarf. “Are ya looking for that rumpled-looking fella? The one with the dog?”

“He's my friend,” Small Jay said quickly.

“Well then, you should know that there were several neighbors—Amish and English alike—over there not an hour ago. From what I heard, they ran the bum off, claimed he was trespassin'.”

Small Jay's lips pursed at this news.

“Did anyone say where he might've gone?” Marlena stepped forward, knowing it was important to Small Jay and even more curious about the man now that she was certain he was real.

“It's beyond me what he was doin' over there in the mill,” the plump Amishwoman replied. “It's anybody's guess where he'll land next. My guess is jail.”

Marlena shivered, and Small Jay's face turned pale.

“Jail?” he asked.

“Why sure, that's where a trespasser ends up, young man.”

“Was his dog with him when he left?” Small Jay asked timidly.

“Honestly, I don't know. But I can tell ya I had the heebie-jeebies, thinking a drunkard might be wanderin' about.” The woman folded her ample arms across her protruding middle.

“
Denki
kindly,” Marlena said quickly, anxious to end this conversation.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the gossipy woman headed back to her front yard.

“Why'd she say jail?” Small Jay whispered to Marlena as they continued on their way. “Boston's done nothin' wrong.”

Marlena didn't know what to say to that. Trespassing did seem serious enough to get a homeless person in hot water.

They walked silently for a while, and then suddenly Small Jay turned to look toward the hill behind them in the distance. “I wish I could see the angels back yonder.”

“Angels?”

“Up there.” He pointed to the gleaming church spire and explained what he'd heard a while back.

Marlena had no desire to discourage him, but she suspected Small Jay was confused. Miracles like that rarely happened, and if angels
had
ever been sighted, it would've been all the talk. News traveled swiftly in a rural community.
If so, Grandmammi would surely have heard of it.

Again, Small Jay turned toward the sloping grade, and together they walked gradually to the crest. “Have
you
ever seen an angel?” he asked when they stopped to allow time for him to catch his breath.

She considered that. “Well, my baby niece certainly looks like one when she smiles.”

That seemed to satisfy him. Just then they heard the familiar rattle of carriage wheels and the loud
clippity-clop
of a horse's hooves on the pavement. When Marlena turned to see who was coming, she saw Sarah Mast waving, her other hand holding the reins as she drove alone in her family's enclosed gray buggy.

“Hullo again!” Sarah called, her face sweet with a smile.

“We keep bumpin' into each other, ain't?” Marlena was beyond pleased.

Sarah slowed the chestnut driving horse and pulled off the road, coming to a stop. “Looks like you're goin' my way, maybe? Hop in, if you'd like.”

Marlena accepted and held the cat while Small Jay slowly climbed in. “Where are you headed this fine afternoon?”

“Over to help my married sister plant beets.” Sarah reached to pet the cat's head. “What're ya doin' this far from home again, Small Jay?”

“Just out walkin',” he said, looking downright miserable. “Went to see my friend who ain't there . . . 'least no more.” His voice cracked with emotion.

Sarah's eyebrows rose like she might inquire further. But Marlena wanted to protect Small Jay and pushed past the awkwardness to ask about Ellie's needlepoint class. “I wasn't able to go last time, what with my niece to care for.”

“Oh, you really should try an' come to at least the Wednesday quilting class. Bring the baby along. We'll all take turns holdin' her.” She explained that there were a number of young women attending now, including some Mennonite and New Order Amish girls, too.

Marlena was so touched by Sarah's cordial invitation and manner, she agreed on the spot, realizing once again how very much she liked Sarah's company. Besides that, she wanted to have something to look forward to after Luella's funeral, which she was beginning to dread.

“How long will you have your sister's baby?” Sarah asked.

“A couple weeks, maybe, if that long. I'm not really sure.”

“Well, babies sure have a way of tuggin' at the heartstrings.”

Marlena simply smiled. She had already decided she wouldn't let herself become too attached to Angela Rose.

“Ellie!” her husband called from the stable.

Goodness, she could hear Roman's voice clear in the kitchen, where she was scrubbing down windowsills and mopboards with the girls.

“I need to speak to you,” he called again.

She recognized this tone and gave her cleaning rag to Sally to rinse out in the bucket of water. Drying her hands on her long apron, Ellie scurried outdoors and stood on the back steps, waiting for Roman to appear.

He stepped out of the shadows rather dramatically, then motioned to her. So this was to be a private conversation.
Most likely about Small Jay.

Pushing his straw hat forward, he shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun. “Is young Jake round anywhere?” he asked when she walked over there.

“Not that I know of.”

“Well, I'm puttin' my foot down,” he announced, a glower on his ruddy face. “I ran into my brother, who's seen Jake loitering near the old mill. Seems there's something strange going on. And I've decided the boy needs to stay round here from now on.”

“I understand why you're concerned,” she said. “But can't Small Jay be free to choose where he goes so long as he sticks closer to home?”

His sharp gaze trapped hers. “I will
not
have him down there with a drunkard.”

“A what?”