She never thought it any fun to be bothering about books when you didn’t have to. “My teachers say you need a formal education to get ahead in the world.” Now, why did she say that? Why did her mouth not seem to be connected to her brain today?
Billy took his time answering. He pulled a few more rose blooms, snipped the petals, and tossed them in the basket. Then he lifted his chin and looked at her. “I guess it all depends on which world.”
They picked blossoms in silence for a long while. When the basket was full of rose petals, he picked it up and leaned it against his hip. “Have you followed the Wisconsin trial?”
“No.”
He shook his head as if she had just arrived from the moon. “ Wisconsin vs. Yoder . It’s a big court case going on in Wisconsin right now. Might bring about changes for us.”
She hated to seem ignorant, but curiosity won out over pride. “What sort of changes?”
“It’s possible that we won’t have to attend public schools. That we could have our own schools right in our districts. Schools that would stop at eighth grade.”
Such a thought made Bess’s heart sing with gladness. She . . . would . . . be . . . done . . . with . . . algebra!
He handed her the basket to take into the barn. She broke into a skip on the way there, so thrilled by the news of Wisconsin vs. Yoder .
Billy and Bess picked rose petals for a few more hours. The sun had already begun to punish them when Billy said it was time to quit.
“I’ll be on my way,” Billy told Mammi as he handed her the last basket. He put his straw hat back on. “But I’ll be over tomorrow morning, first thing.”
He nodded goodbye and tipped his hat slightly in Bess’s direction, which made her knees feel weak. The boys in Berlin would never dream of tipping their hats to a girl.
Mammi watched him go and said to no one in particular, “He’s a good one, that boy.”
Bess wanted to ask Mammi more about Billy Lapp, but then she thought better of it. Mammi saved herself a lot of bother by not being the kind of person who answered nosy questions.
Mammi closed the sliding door of the barn to keep it cooler inside. “After lunch,” she said, “we got us an errand to do.”
A few hours later, Bess hurried to keep up behind Mammi as she breezed through the Veterans Hospital in Lebanon. On the bus ride there, Mammi told her they were going to pay a visit to her brother, Simon, who was seriously ailing. Bess had heard terrifying stories about Simon, bits and pieces of his life woven together from tales her cousins whispered to her at her grandfather’s funeral. She knew he was Mammi’s only brother, was the youngest in the family, had always been a black sheep, and—worst of all—that he had been shunned.
But Simon was nothing like Bess expected.
She had prepared herself for a hulking brute of a man, with eyes narrowed into slits and teeth sharpened into points and horns sprouted on his head. A monster.
Instead, before her was a tired, pale-skinned old man who looked as if he was weary of living and ready to die.
Bess and Mammi stood by Simon’s bedside in the ward, trying to determine if he was awake or asleep. Bess had a fleeting thought that he might have passed.
She looked at her grandmother and whispered, “Should I get a nurse?”
Mammi ignored her and leaned over him. “Wake up, Simon!” she boomed, and the room echoed.
Simon’s eyes flew open. “Oh Lordy. It’s the town do-gooder.” He glanced at the basket Mammi held in her hands. “Did you bring your jam?”
“I did,” Mammi said.
“Homemade bread?”
“It’s in there.” She put the basket on his bedside table. “You always did take better care of your belly than your soul.”
Simon squinted at Bess. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Bess,” Mammi answered. She eased her big self into a hard-backed plastic chair.
“Jonah—your nephew—he’s my father,” Bess filled in. She shifted her weight awkwardly from foot
Billy took his time answering. He pulled a few more rose blooms, snipped the petals, and tossed them in the basket. Then he lifted his chin and looked at her. “I guess it all depends on which world.”
They picked blossoms in silence for a long while. When the basket was full of rose petals, he picked it up and leaned it against his hip. “Have you followed the Wisconsin trial?”
“No.”
He shook his head as if she had just arrived from the moon. “ Wisconsin vs. Yoder . It’s a big court case going on in Wisconsin right now. Might bring about changes for us.”
She hated to seem ignorant, but curiosity won out over pride. “What sort of changes?”
“It’s possible that we won’t have to attend public schools. That we could have our own schools right in our districts. Schools that would stop at eighth grade.”
Such a thought made Bess’s heart sing with gladness. She . . . would . . . be . . . done . . . with . . . algebra!
He handed her the basket to take into the barn. She broke into a skip on the way there, so thrilled by the news of Wisconsin vs. Yoder .
Billy and Bess picked rose petals for a few more hours. The sun had already begun to punish them when Billy said it was time to quit.
“I’ll be on my way,” Billy told Mammi as he handed her the last basket. He put his straw hat back on. “But I’ll be over tomorrow morning, first thing.”
He nodded goodbye and tipped his hat slightly in Bess’s direction, which made her knees feel weak. The boys in Berlin would never dream of tipping their hats to a girl.
Mammi watched him go and said to no one in particular, “He’s a good one, that boy.”
Bess wanted to ask Mammi more about Billy Lapp, but then she thought better of it. Mammi saved herself a lot of bother by not being the kind of person who answered nosy questions.
Mammi closed the sliding door of the barn to keep it cooler inside. “After lunch,” she said, “we got us an errand to do.”
A few hours later, Bess hurried to keep up behind Mammi as she breezed through the Veterans Hospital in Lebanon. On the bus ride there, Mammi told her they were going to pay a visit to her brother, Simon, who was seriously ailing. Bess had heard terrifying stories about Simon, bits and pieces of his life woven together from tales her cousins whispered to her at her grandfather’s funeral. She knew he was Mammi’s only brother, was the youngest in the family, had always been a black sheep, and—worst of all—that he had been shunned.
But Simon was nothing like Bess expected.
She had prepared herself for a hulking brute of a man, with eyes narrowed into slits and teeth sharpened into points and horns sprouted on his head. A monster.
Instead, before her was a tired, pale-skinned old man who looked as if he was weary of living and ready to die.
Bess and Mammi stood by Simon’s bedside in the ward, trying to determine if he was awake or asleep. Bess had a fleeting thought that he might have passed.
She looked at her grandmother and whispered, “Should I get a nurse?”
Mammi ignored her and leaned over him. “Wake up, Simon!” she boomed, and the room echoed.
Simon’s eyes flew open. “Oh Lordy. It’s the town do-gooder.” He glanced at the basket Mammi held in her hands. “Did you bring your jam?”
“I did,” Mammi said.
“Homemade bread?”
“It’s in there.” She put the basket on his bedside table. “You always did take better care of your belly than your soul.”
Simon squinted at Bess. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Bess,” Mammi answered. She eased her big self into a hard-backed plastic chair.
“Jonah—your nephew—he’s my father,” Bess filled in. She shifted her weight awkwardly from foot
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