Anna's Crossing: An Amish Beginnings Novel by Suzanne Woods Fisher Read Free Book Online Page A

for that purpose. Learning English was one thing she could do to help prepare them for their new life. Though Felix was interested in everything but his lessons.
    She had hoped there might be some Mennonite boys close to Felix’s age, but there were just a few school-age girls and he wanted nothing to do with girls. The rest were toddlers. So many toddlers! Too many for a peaceful journey.
    Maria was fussing over how to fit her trunk under the bunk, so Anna went to help her and then returned to Dorothea. Surely more cramped, uncomfortable quarters couldn’t be found. The dark, damp lower deck was only five feet high. She pitied the men who would spend their days hunched over. By the time they reached Port Philadelphia, their backs would resemble question marks.
    Wooden crates, boxes, sacks, bundles of food crammed the narrow aisle. Somewhere up front, a small child wailed relentlessly. And the lower deck was filthy. They would need to spend these first few days cleaning and scrubbing. At least, Anna thought, there would be something to do.
    She’d heard the carpenter say that when the tide turned in their favor, it would be time to depart. Removing his hat, Christian bowed his head and fell down to his knees on thedeck, as did everyone present, including the Mennonites. He offered up one of the most heartfelt prayers Anna ever heard him pray, fervently asking the Lord for blessings on this journey.
    Longing for home filled Anna’s heart. She felt an overwhelming need to know they’d be safe, that the next haven would indeed be welcoming, but there were few guarantees.
    At sunset, the sky turned a miraculous color of pink and gold, shining off the water. She peeked out the small window and hoped it meant God’s blessing on them.
    Soon, the Charming Nancy sailed into the channel with the lights of Rotterdam blazing brightly behind them. It was a whole world, this ship, and they would sail to America in its very bowels.

4

    June 30th, 1737
    Felix Bauer woke up feeling great. He had a cast-iron stomach, unlike his mother and Anna and nearly everyone else who lay retching in their bunks, moaning piteously, laid low by seasickness. He was sorry they were ailing, truly he was.
    Christian thought the channel crossing should take only a day, two at the most, but a strong storm blew gales from the west, causing the ship to roll and pitch and fight against the winds. Felix didn’t mind the topsy-turvy motion of the ship, but he did have a complaint: the food. It was awful. Worse than awful. Everything was boiled and mushy. Even the vegetables were boiled to death, served in a great bowl big enough to be passed around the lower deck. Catrina said that was the English way, but he didn’t know how she would know that. Still, he ate everything he could and tried to have more but was denied by Maria Müller. “That’s more than enough for you, Hans Felix Bauer!” she would squawk at him, like a mad hen. He left each meal nearly as hungry as he had started it. He would have to talk to Anna and his mother about it if they ever stopped moaning from seasickness. So meanwhile he had a look around.
    Particularly intriguing to him were the large cannons that were placed at portals around the lower deck. He tried to lift one of the heavy cannon balls set near the base of the cannon in a small triangle but nearly dropped it on his bare toes. He wished he could ask someone how a cannon worked. He considered asking Christian about it, but then he saw him stretched out in his bunk, head lolled back, snoring at the top of his lungs.
    The passengers had been sternly warned to stay in the lower deck and not come to the upper deck, dangerous with all the ropes and activity of the sailors. Felix explored the entire lower deck; he was shooed away by a dour-looking Mennonite grandmother in the stern, so he mostly poked around the bow where the pig stayed, and four chickens in a cage made of twigs and twine. The windlass, a type of winch used for