More Than Words (25 page)

I grasped her hand as she pushed up from the rocking chair. “Exactly what do you plan to tell Vater about what happened this afternoon?”

She looked at me as though I were the one who needed to be committed to Mount Pleasant. “Why, the truth, of course.” She gave her hair a final pat and motioned for me. “Come along. Let’s not keep your Vater waiting any longer.”

When we returned to the parlor, my father was settled back in his chair. A curl of smoke circled above his head like a translucent crown. Holding his pipe in his hand, he motioned toward the divan. “Sit down, Helga. I want to hear your story. Conrad and Stefan said they were netting a fish, so I didn’t learn much from them.” He lifted his pipe to his lips and waited.

All signs of Oma’s misadventure had disappeared. She scooted to the edge of the divan. “For sure it was an exciting day, George. Let me tell you, I thought I was going home to meet my Maker.”

Father squinted through the pipe smoke. “Ja? So tell me how come you were in the river. You think you are now a fish?”

She cackled at his remark. “Nein. I still do not know how to swim, but I saw such pretty flowers on the other side of the river, and I thought I could make it across using rocks I saw in the water.” She rubbed her forehead. “Ach! I did not realize my eyes could deceive me so much. Instead of rocks, it was the sun shining on the water. But I was already standing on a rock, and when I turned around to return to the riverbank, my foot slipped, and I fell in the water. Such a pull that water had on me.”

Conrad nodded. “Ja. There is a strong undercurrent. It can pull you down in a hurry if you are not a strong swimmer.”

I was uncertain how much of Oma’s story was true. She hadn’t been having any trouble in the water until I attempted to lure her back to shore. But that’s not what she remembered, and I wasn’t going to contradict her. Neither Oma nor Conrad mentioned Zurca, and I didn’t, either. I doubted Oma even remembered Zurca had saved her life. Maybe later she would have some recollection, but for now she remained oblivious.

She beamed at Conrad. “And Conrad carried me all the way home. He is stronger than you would think, George.”

If my father noticed any gaps or irregularities in her story, he didn’t say so and appeared satisfied. I was most grateful and offered a hurried prayer of thanks. My prayer had been answered. Not in the way I’d expected, but the method God used didn’t matter—only the outcome. And I was most pleased with that.

For the remainder of the afternoon and evening, I expected my father to surprise me with some question or comment concerning Oma and our outing. But when bedtime arrived and he bid me good-night, I realized my worry had been in vain. He believed Oma’s story.

After preparing for bed, I slipped between the sheets, glad the day had ended. It would be good to return to my regular routine tomorrow. It wasn’t until I had completed my prayers and was slipping off to sleep that I remembered Conrad had never revealed the name of my accuser. As my eyes popped open, I once again attempted to recall who might have been in the store when I was speaking to Mr. Finley.

The next afternoon Stefan barreled into the store, his schoolbooks tied by a leather strap that he’d slung over his shoulder. Perspiration dripped from his hair, and he swiped the back of one hand across his forehead before tossing the books onto the front counter. “Loyco’s gone, and Lalah is afraid something has happened to him.”

“Lalah? So you’ve been back to the Gypsy camp again even though you’ve been warned to stay away from there.” I wagged my index finger back and forth. “I’m not going to protect you, Stefan. If anyone saw you and tells Vater, you’ll need to explain yourself. And I don’t think he’ll be kind about this.” I pushed the books back toward him. “And take these to your room. They don’t belong on the counter.”

“You don’t have to believe me.” He stomped across the room and slung his cap onto one of the hooks. “And I wasn’t at the Gypsy camp. Lalah was waiting by the edge of the road and called to me when I was coming home from school. She was crying because she misses her Vater. He’s been gone for over two weeks now.”

“I am sorry to hear this, but I’m sure Loyco will return.” From the set of my brother’s jaw, I could see my answer didn’t satisfy him.

“Can you not remember how we felt when Mutter died? That is how Lalah is feeling right now. She is afraid she will never know what happened to her Vater. I think that would be even worse than to know he is dead.” My brother continued to stare at me as if this situation were somehow my fault.

“I don’t know what you expect from me, Stefan. I don’t know what has happened to Loyco. Zurca or some of the other Gypsies would be more help than I can be.”

“She asked for our help. Isn’t that what the Bible teaches— that we should help those in need?”

I stared at him in disbelief. “After all the bad behavior I’ve seen from you over the past weeks, you are going to talk to me about Bible teaching?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “I told Lalah you would come to see her tomorrow. You should at least go and listen to her. There may be something you can do.”

“I have no way to help her, Stefan, and you shouldn’t have promised I would meet her.” I wanted to throttle him. It seemed no one asked permission before taking matters into their own hands. First Mr. Finley had agreed to have my poems printed in the magazine without gaining my agreement, and now my brother had promised Lalah I would come and speak with her.

“Don’t you have some pity for her? She has no Mutter, and now her Vater is gone. She didn’t ask for anything but a few minutes of your time.”

I pointed to the broom. “The floor is waiting to be swept, and there are crates to unload.” When he continued to stare at me, I gave a curt nod. “I will try to get away from the store and speak with her, but I cannot say for certain when it will be. Unlike you, I must work all day.”

Unexpected resentment crept into my reply, followed by a sharp sense of shame. I shouldn’t rail against performing my duties. After all, we all worked for the good of the community. It wasn’t as though I was expected to do any more than the other members of our village. But I had been required to leave my position in the kitchen to help with the store. And I had much preferred working alongside the other women over stocking the store shelves and managing the ledgers.

And then there was Oma. Always there was the worry over Oma.

CHAPTER 20

The hot days of August seemed to fly by, and before I knew it the month was drawing to a close. We’d dug the onion sets the previous week, and as expected, I’d been assigned to work in the fields. I wrote in my journal that it was probably a good thing, because I’d been happy to return to work at the store when harvest was over. Conrad surprised me from time to time when he asked me to read one of my stories or poems to him. His comments were always kind. He laughed in the proper places and nodded with agreement at others. When I’d finish reading, he would tell me my writing was perfect without any help from an outsider. Then he would grin and add, “But if it makes you feel better to send them, I will not disagree with your decision.”

I was thankful for his praise and that he’d understood my ongoing desire to have my work reviewed by someone considered an expert. My only dissatisfaction arose when I’d receive each day’s bag of mail and there would be nothing from Mr. Finley. I had expected to receive comments from his friend by now, but nothing had arrived, not even a message from Mr. Finley regarding his anticipated return to Homestead.

Even my father had mentioned Mr. Finley. The laces and trims he’d sold us had been well received by our customers, and Father wanted to place another order while there were still tourists arriving each day. “What kind of company does business like this? If Mr. Finley can’t return, they should send another salesman.” Father resorted to filling empty spaces on the shelf with some older trims that hadn’t sold well in the past.

My father’s annoyed comment provided the perfect opening for me. “Could you write to his company or send a telegram and ask for him to contact you?”

He looked up and his eyes shone with delight. “Ja! That is an excellent idea you have, Gretchen. I will send a telegram right now.” He copied the company name and address from one of the boxes of trim. Grasping the scrap of paper between his thumb and forefinger, he waved it overhead and strode toward the door. “I will be back soon.”

I hummed while I dusted the shelves, pleased that I’d found a way to resolve my father’s problem and even more pleased that his action would help me, as well. Surely a telegram would bring a response from Mr. Finley within the week. I was lost in thought, anticipating what message Mr. Finley might send, when there was a tap on my shoulder. I stifled a scream and spun on my heel.

“Lalah!” I slapped my palm across my chest. “You frightened me. I didn’t hear you come into the store.”

She pointed to her bare feet. “No shoes.”

“What can I do for you? Have you heard from your father?” At Stefan’s insistence, I’d gone to meet with the girl and had listened to her fears and concerns, but I’d been unable to provide any genuine help. I had no idea why Loyco had left the band of Gypsies or where he might have gone. There truly was nothing I could tell her.

Her hair brushed across her shoulders as she shook her head. “No, not yet.”

She was the first of the Gypsies to enter the store since Loyco’s departure, and her appearance surprised me. Her father had given strict orders that they were to stay out of the town, and all of them had. At least as far as I knew. There had been no reports of missing chickens or eggs from Mina or the other kitchen workers, so I assumed all was safe within our borders.

After a wary glance toward the front door, she stepped to my left side, where she’d be shielded from view. “I came to warn you that Alija is going to put a curse on you.”

Though I certainly didn’t believe in Gypsy curses, the idea of the old woman stirring up a brew and chanting my name caused a momentary ripple of fear to wash over me. It also explained why Lalah was watching the front of the store.

“Do you think Alija followed you?”

“Maybe. She’s quiet as a prowling cat, so I can never be sure.”

“Why would she do such a thing?”

“She thinks you have made Loyco crazy and he has left us here to die.”

“To die? Is there illness in your camp?”

“No. That’s just the way Alija talks when she wants to scare us. That way everyone will agree with her and do what she wants.”

I didn’t doubt the old woman could scare most anybody. “And what is it she wants the rest of you to do?”

“She says we should make Zurca our leader, and then we can leave here. She wants to move on to another camp. She says that ever since you talked to Loyco about my mother, he has been acting strange in the head. Now the others are angry with me because I am his daughter.” Tears pooled in her large brown eyes.

How could I do anything to help? Alija wouldn’t believe anything I said. “I wish I could do something to make this better for you, Lalah. I’m sorry if any of my actions caused these problems for you.”

“Maybe it would help if you tell her Loyco sent word to you that he’s going to return in a week or two.”

I shook my head. “I think telling a lie would only make matters worse. Just think what would happen if I did that and Loyco didn’t return by the end of two weeks? Alija would put a double curse on me.” Hoping to lighten the girl’s spirits, I forced a chuckle, but she didn’t smile.

She clasped her thin fingers around my hand. “If they decide to leave before Loyco returns, can I come and stay with you?” Fear shone in her dark eyes as she searched my face. “He won’t know where to find me if he comes back and we’re gone.”

Loyco was a resourceful man, and I was certain he could track his band of Gypsies, but such a response wouldn’t quell Lalah’s fears. I swallowed hard, not knowing what my father would think of such an idea, but I couldn’t deny the girl. And in spite of Alija’s threats and curses, I thought the Gypsies would remain loyal to Loyco. “Yes, Lalah. If they decide to leave, you can come here, and we will give you shelter until Loyco returns. You have my word.”