Little Amish Matchmaker by Linda Byler Read Free Book Online Page B

He popped the top of a can of grape juice and grinned at Isaac, who was wolfing down his sandwich made of homemade wheat bread, sweet bologna and mustard. A pint jar of chocolate milk, made with the good creamy milk straight from the bulk tank in the milk house and flavored with Nestle’s Quik, accompanied his sandwich. Mam bought the chocolate mix in large yellow cylinders at Centerville Bulk Food Store. Sometimes he wished Mam would buy fancy Tupperware drink containers the way other mothers did, but she said all her children used glass pint jars for their chocolate milk, and she had no intention of stopping now.
    There was a gasp from Ruthie, as Daniel and Reuben started to tussle, spilling Daniel’s juice all over everything.
    Teacher Catherine laid down her sandwich deliberately, her mouth set in a straight line as she got up, grabbed Reuben by the arm and marched him back to his seat. “You know you have to stay in your seat at lunchtime,” she said firmly. Isaac didn’t know whether Reuben was pinched, or if the reprimand alone was enough, but he bent his head and cried softly.
    The classroom became devoid of sound as Daniel was marched to sit in an empty desk, without his juice. Dora helped mop up the sticky mess with paper towels, but it was Teacher Catherine who had to use warm water and soap in a bucket, get down on her knees and wipe it all up properly, while her sandwich got cold.
    It served that Reuben right. Daniel, too. Those little second graders couldn’t hold still one minute, not even long enough to eat their lunches. The pupils had to remain seated for 15 minutes, which was the most cruel thing the school board had ever invented. You could easily eat a sandwich in five minutes, drink all your chocolate milk, grab your bag of pretzels and be out the door.
    Recess was only 45 minutes, which wasn’t long enough at all. Especially now, with all this snow. So they ate in a big hurry, sat together with their feet in the aisle, traded snacks and talked.
    Calvin said there was a fire on the other side of Georgetown; the fire engines had made an awful racket. Isaac asked him how he knew already, and Calvin shrugged his shoulders, so Isaac figured one of his brothers who was at the rumspringa age had a radio or a cell phone, maybe both.
    You just didn’t talk about those things in school, those objects being verboten (forbidden)the way they were. It was not a good subject to discuss, especially with the more conservative children like Isaac, whose family would never own anything the church frowned on. It was called ­respect.
    Isaac knew Calvin’s brothers were not like Sim. They each had had a vehicle for a short time, even. Isaac and Calvin never talked about it, though, which was good. That was a separate world, and to avoid that subject meant they could like each other tremendously. They lived in their own young world of friendship, discussing only matters of importance, like horses and sleds and scooters, and really awesome ideas like making a better scooter, how to fire up a stove with the right kindling and who was the best skate sharpener in Lancaster County.
    When the long hand on the clock finally reached the three, they moved fast and efficiently, throwing their lunch boxes on the shelf with one hand, grabbing their coats and hats or beanies with the other, and moving to the front door with long strides that were not really running, but certainly not quite walking, either.
    The minute their heads popped out the door, a nanosecond ahead of their feet, yells of pure elation broke out. They dashed to their sleds, grabbed the rope handles and raced out of the schoolyard, around the fence, and up Eli Esh’s slope.
    Sledding was the only time they were allowed out of the schoolyard. They had to be closely supervised, staying off the road until they were safely in the field, which was free from traffic. But the “big boys” were allowed to go ahead, before Teacher Catherine appeared with the smaller