followed Edna toward the van.
Mrs. Coldwell, the driver the Amish frequently used, greeted them with a cheerful, “Good morning.”
“I guess it is, but don’t ask my bones, though. That and other things, all in the body, of course,” Edna told her. She handed over her suitcase to Mrs. Coldwell, who placed it in the back of the van with the rest of the luggage.
“You sound chirpy enough,” Mrs. Coldwell said chuckling.
“Thankful. Just thankful,” Edna said and stepped into the van. “Good morning,” she said loudly, just inside the door.
“You don’t have to bust my eardrums,” Rebecca heard Isaac say from the back of the van. Apparently she would travel in the same van as John’s parents.
“Didn’t hear my alarm go off,” Edna shouted at him in the same tone of voice. “Wait till you’re my age, and you’ll be sleeping right through yours too.”
“He already shouts,” Miriam said, as Edna took her seat and Rebecca stepped inside. “It’s just his preaching voice.”
“Now…now,” Isaac said smiling. “It’s too early in the morning for all these hard feelings. We have to remember Da Hah and His kindness.”
“See what I mean,” Miriam said in Edna’s direction. Several of the others in the van chuckled softly.
“At least you still have him, preaching or not,” Edna said, a note of sadness in her voice. “Elmer’s been gone for many a year now.”
“Yes,” Miriam agreed, “I have much to be thankful for.”
“Guess we all do.” Edna settled into her seat, and silence descended on the van, as Mrs. Coldwell started the engine.
Rebecca was sure the others’ thoughts had gone where hers did—where they were headed and the mortality of mankind. As daylight came some hours later, the conversations began again. Rebecca mostly listened, as their voices ebbed and flowed across the miles.
They stopped at Wendy’s for lunch and arrived in Milroy early in the afternoon. Rebecca was the last to be picked up and also the last to be dropped off. No particular reason existed other than the order of where specific homes were located.
Leona was all smiles when she greeted her at the door. The children weren’t home from school yet, so it was just her and the three youngest. Leroy and James said “Hi,” while baby Jonathon waved his hands and feet from the crib in the living room.
“Moved him out here,” Leona explained. “He likes it better, and it keeps him entertained while I work—safer too than on the blanket.”
Rebecca chuckled as Leona glanced meaningfully at Leroy and James.
“They don’t mean to be rough. They’re just boys,” Leona said. “They’ve been outside all day. Tired of it, I think.”
“Leroy fell down the hole,” James announced, “and broke his head.”
“Really.” Rebecca waited. Since Leroy looked fine, Rebecca figured there was exaggeration involved somewhere.
“Hard,” James said solemnly. “From all the way up. Down. Smash. Dad said he could have been hurt.”
“The haymow.” Leona groaned and supplied the adult information. “He slipped somehow. Didn’t do much damage, thankfully. James was scared, though.”
“Almost died,” James said.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Leona told him. “It just frightened you.”
“Was it scary?” Rebecca asked, sympathy in her voice.
James nodded, his eyes big.
“I think he watched him go—from the top.” Leona supplied the information again.
“Down,” James said. “Boom!”
“I guess you won’t forget it too soon,” Rebecca told him. “You have to be more careful. Falling isn’t any fun. It can hurt too.”
James nodded, then turned his attention to Leroy, who pulled on his sleeve.
“Play with him,” Leona instructed them, “out here maybe.”
As James and Leroy got their heads together, their plans with Jonathon began. Leroy supplied most of the whispers. Since Leona insisted, Rebecca took a seat on the couch.
“I’ve been sitting all day,” she