Somewhere to Belong Read online

  She stopped directly in front of us and planted her fists on her hips. “Did the two of you decide to spend the day out here enjoying the spring weather while the rest of us perform your duties? If you don’t want to help in the kitchen, Berta, perhaps you’d like to work in the garden? I can speak to the Bruderrat.”

  I couldn’t predict what Berta would say, but I poked her with my elbow and hoped she’d understand she should refuse the garden work. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the east, where the sun was slowly ascending into a billowy blue sky.

  I knew what she was thinking: Outdoors would be better than being cooped up in the kitchen. But she didn’t know the Gartebaas.

  Berta would never survive under the supervision of Sister Rosina Nusser. Though small in stature, the garden boss was filled with more energy than any woman in Amana. The wiry mother of five worked hard and expected the same from every person who worked for her. Even the hired hands requested new assignments after a day or two of Sister Nusser’s commands.

  “Berta is going to do better in the kitchen. She’s going to try very hard, aren’t you, Berta?” Once again I jabbed her in the side.

  She rubbed her fingertips along her waistline and glared in my direction. “I’ll give it a try.”

  Sister Muhlbach motioned toward the kitchen. “Then go inside and help Sister Dickel wash the dishes, Berta.”

  When I jumped to my feet, the older woman shook her head.

  “Not you, Johanna. We will speak privately before you return to work.”

  My heart hammered against my chest like an anvil striking iron. When Berta had returned indoors, Sister Muhlbach pointed to the bench. “Sit down, Johanna.” She settled beside me, and the stern lines around her mouth softened. “You’ve been burdened with a difficult task, one that will try your patience and mine. There is no doubt this is an impertinent young woman who has little desire to live here or learn our ways.”

  “So it would seem.” I didn’t want to disparage Berta, but I couldn’t lie, either.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “For your sake, I will give her a little latitude, but I cannot have her creating chaos in the kitchen. You must do your best to bring her around, and quickly. Do I make myself clear?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Sister Muhlbach. Very clear.”

  “Gut. Now let’s get back to work.”

  She walked by my side until we neared the kitchen door. With a viselike grip, she held my arm. “One more thing, Johanna. Make certain Berta never again wears that bright pink skirt!”

  CHAPTER 4

  Berta Schumacher

  My father folded his arms across his chest and stared over the top of his spectacles. “I’m told you created quite a ruckus in the kitchen this morning.”

  There was no reason to deny it. My father had obviously heard all of the details. I couldn’t help but wonder who had told him, though. Johanna? Probably Brother Ilg, I decided. He was an elder as well as Johanna’s father. He’d be eager to tell my parents that I was a misfit in this strange new world. “I didn’t follow the rules. I’ve already been reprimanded.” I glanced at my mother. “Where were you? I didn’t see either of you come to the dining room for breakfast. Did the two of you receive a reprimand for breaking the rules?”

  “No, Berta. Rather than break the rules, we gained permission to be absent in advance. Some of my medical equipment arrived on the train last week and had been delivered by wagon from Homestead. I wanted to check over the items and ensure that nothing had broken. We received permission to eat breakfast at the hotel kitchen, since it is close to the office where I’ll be working.”

  I was weary from the day at work and thought my brain hadn’t properly registered what my father had said. “Did you say your equipment arrived last week? How is that possible?”

  Mother inched closer beside me on the divan and patted my hand. “We’d begun making plans to move here earlier than you probably surmised.”

  “How much earlier?” I pulled my hand from her grasp.

  “We’d been talking for a month or two,” she whispered.

  “A month or two?” I jumped to my feet and mentally calculated dates. “That’s before the trouble with John Underwood.” I glanced between them. “You said that was why we were moving here, but now I discover you told me a lie!” With each word, my tone elevated a notch.

  “No need to shout, Berta. Sit down and let’s discuss this like sensible folks.”

  My father’s placating tone further infuriated me. “Why? Everything has already been decided. I had no choice in this matter. You and Mother made me believe we moved here because of John Underwood, but now I discover that can’t possibly be the case.”

  “It is part of the reason. The fact that you and John hadn’t yet been involved in that last bit of mischief changes nothing. The two of you had certainly caused us worry by then.” My mother retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her eyes.

  I stiffened at the sight. She needn’t think her tears would soften my anger. The two of them had plotted and schemed behind my back and made me believe that living in this strict community was due entirely to my outlandish behavior.

  “I know I haven’t been the best daughter, but there’s something more to this move than my antics with John Underwood. Something you’ve decided to keep secret.” I didn’t fail to note the quick glance exchanged by my parents. I yanked the apron from around my waist and stomped toward my room.

  “We have prayer service in a few minutes. You need to remove that pink gown and gather your shawl,” my father said.

  Prayer service! The thought irritated me like the prickly wool blanket that covered my bed. Unless I could escape this place, I’d be required to attend prayer service every night for the rest of my life. And as if every night wasn’t enough, Johanna had told me there were a total of eleven meetings each week. I’d nearly fainted. Eleven! Who ever heard of such a thing! Not only did they meet every night, but they added a meeting on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoons. And, of course, there was Sunday morning service, too. The idea of all that praying baffled me. Couldn’t they just do it all at once and be done with it?

  I gathered my shawl and hiked up the skirt of the pink silk, careful to tuck the waistband tight beneath the calico. Hemming was out of the question. There wasn’t time. Besides, I didn’t know how to hem a skirt. Later I’d get the scissors from Mother’s sewing box and snip off an inch or two. I wasn’t yet ready to discard my vestiges of the outside world. Satisfied the fabric was now hidden from sight, I returned to the parlor. With a sweep of his arm, my father gestured toward the door. The three of us exited the parlor with my mother in the lead, my father at the rear, and me sandwiched between them.

  Father had turned to close our door when a young man and a middle-aged woman exited their apartment. The young man grinned at me.

  “Guten Abend.”

  My father stared at the fellow as if taking his measure. “Good evening.”

  Their neighbor extended his hand. “I am Rudolf Stilson, and this is my mother, Hilda Stilson.”

  The woman was holding her son’s arm in a possessive grasp. “So, we finally meet the new doctor and his family. I thought Brother Frank would bring you up to meet us when you arrived, but . . .” Her voice trailed off as if she expected my father to respond, but when he said nothing, she continued. “My Rudolf hopes the Grossebruderrat will consider sending him to school to become a doctor or maybe a pharmacist. He is a smart boy.”

  “I thought pride was frowned upon in the community,” I said.

  “Berta! You forget your manners.” My mother grimaced. “My daughter isn’t herself this evening.”

  I wanted to tell them that I hadn’t been myself since we set foot in this town, but I held my tongue. Such a comment would only meet with another reprimand. We followed Rudolf and his mother down the stairs and outside. I was surprised when, before long, Rudolf had worked his way back until he was walking beside me.

 
“I saw what happened in the Küche this morning,” he said. “It takes time to adjust. You’ll learn.”

  “I don’t want to learn. I want to return to Chicago, where I can enjoy myself,” I whispered.

  A straw hat topped his thick dark hair, but it was the glint in his chocolate brown eyes that captured my attention. He appeared to be a young man who could learn to take pleasure in life—with a little help. “Did you grow up in Amana?” I kept my voice low, fearful the others would discover we were talking and pull me away from Rudolf ’s side.

  “Most of my life. We lived on the outside for about a year, but when my Vater died, Mutter and I moved back. She’s content here. It is her home.”

  My heart fluttered with excitement. At least I’d connected with someone who knew what living out in the world was like. The fun, the excitement, the adventure. “Don’t you miss the outside life?”

  “Not so much. Our life out there wasn’t so gut. We worked on a farm, and the owner expected too much work for too little pay. When Vater was injured and died, we knew this was where we belonged, so we returned.”

  The joyful flutter in my chest disappeared even more quickly than it had arrived. I’d misjudged Rudolf. He was like all the rest of them. Content with the dull sameness of this place. But after hearing a few motivating details, he might be convinced there could be more excitement in his future. More beyond the perimeter of the Amana villages, more beyond the farm where he’d been mistreated, more to life than he’d even imagined.

  I tugged on his sleeve. “We need to talk. You didn’t see Chicago. It’s a wonderful place. You would like it very much.”

  “But here in Amana, I am content. And my Mutter would be sad if I chose to leave. I like my work. It is a gut life here. You will see.”

  He’d said the proper words, the words anyone living here would expect to hear from him. But I’d detected a shadowy doubt in his eyes that made me wonder if he truly was convinced this was where he belonged. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for further conversation. Sister Stilson waved him forward. He obediently rushed to his mother’s side, but I decided Rudolf displayed promise. With a little work, he could be convinced a better life awaited him outside the confines of Amana, Iowa. I was certain of it.

  My breath caught when Johanna grasped the fabric of my calico skirt between her thumb and forefinger the following morning. She lifted the fabric only an inch from the floor before allowing it to drop back into place. “I’m pleased to see you did as you were instructed.”

  I didn’t respond. I’d be accused of lying if I agreed, and if I disagreed, I’d have to remove the pink silk skirt. Instead, I offered a bright smile. “And I’m on time, as well.”

  “Indeed you are. It’s heartening to know my prayers are being answered.”

  I didn’t respond to that remark, either. I looped arms and leaned close, pretending we’d been dear friends for years. “I’ve studied all of the single men who dine at our Küche, and I can’t decide which one you plan to marry.” Hoping to view Johanna’s reaction, I released her arm and danced along beside her. My skirt whispered through the dew-kissed grass as we cut around the house to the rear kitchen door.

  The waning moon filtered slivers of light through the budding tree branches and cast eerie designs across her pale complexion.

  “You are too bold with your questions, Berta. A girl of your age shouldn’t be dwelling upon marriage.”

  “I’m not thinking about my own marriage, only yours. After all, you’re getting quite old. At your age most young ladies have several suitors.”

  “Quite old?”

  There was no doubt I’d offended her, but at least we’d moved along to a topic other than my pink skirt. “Indeed. Most young women your age would be distraught if they didn’t have an excellent marriage prospect.”

  She unlatched the kitchen door and gestured toward the lamps. “You should know that marriage is never deemed acceptable by the elders until a young woman has attained the age of twenty-one, and young men must be twenty-four. For your information, I turned twenty-one not long ago.”

  I struck a match against the hearth. The glimmering flame revealed the displeasure in Johanna’s eyes, but that didn’t stop me. “Still, I would think if there is someone who interests you—”

  She waved me off as she would a pesky fly. “Finish the lamps and then go fetch water while I light the fire.”

  Moments later I halted my lamp-lighting duties. “I guess you’d prefer someone from another village. Most of the unmarried men in Amana are quite solemn, don’t you think? I believe a sense of humor is important in marriage.”

  Johanna pointed overhead. “Keep your voice down. Sister Muhlbach will hear. Private matters are not to be discussed. I don’t want her to think I’d engage in unacceptable conversation with you. Besides, what does a girl your age know of marriage!”

  “My parents are married, and I think they could use more humor in their marriage. Father used to laugh a lot but not so much anymore.” I lit the final lamp. “Why are you so worried about getting in trouble? Your father is an elder. He can simply tell them you weren’t at fault, and all will be fine. That’s what Father usually did when I got in trouble at school.”

  A piece of firewood slipped from Johanna’s hand. “You were disobedient, and your father lied for you so you wouldn’t suffer consequences for your bad behavior?”

  She made it sound as though Father had committed some horrid crime. “Sort of,” I mumbled.

  “That won’t happen here in Amana. If you misbehave, you must tell the truth and be prepared to take your punishment.”

  I picked up the bucket and stifled a giggle. What could be done to make my life any more miserable? As if she could read my mind, Johanna said, “Believe me, you don’t want to be banned from meetings.”

  I stopped in my tracks and swiveled around as though spinning on ice. “That’s the punishment? You can’t attend prayer meeting every night?”

  “Or on Sunday, either. If the infraction isn’t quite so bad, you’re relegated to children’s church. But since you’ve not yet advanced, I imagine you would be banned from all church services.”

  I wasn’t certain what she meant by advancing to other services on Sunday. So far, I’d only been to the nightly prayer meeting. Even though I dared not tell Johanna, I considered the punishment more of a reward. Armed with this latest unexpected news, I unlatched the door and skipped outside to fetch water.

  Sister Muhlbach arrived in the kitchen a short time later. When I readily agreed to go to the cellar and check the cans of milk for spoilage, she eyed me with suspicion. “You’ll be helping to make cottage cheese today,” she called after me. I turned and flashed a smile in her direction. Her forehead scrunched with tiny wrinkles. My cooperative behavior had obviously confused her. The thought warmed me like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day.

  Once I entered the cellar, my jubilant thoughts evaporated as quickly as they’d arrived. The dank, dark rooms were enough to set my teeth on edge. In my haste to comply with Sister Muhlbach’s request, I’d forgotten the lantern. I stood at the bottom of the wooden steps and hoped my eyes would adjust to the darkness. Unfortunately, the milk was stored far across the room, away from any sliver of light. If I circled behind the steps, I could possibly edge my way along the wall and get to the large water-filled concrete vat that held the milk cans. I stood there and imagined spiders and bugs lurking among the jars of canned fruits and vegetables or a mouse hidden behind a barrel or basket. I should go upstairs, retrieve a lantern, and return to check the milk. That was the easiest solution. But I remained a little longer, unwilling to go upstairs and admit my forgetfulness to Sister Muhlbach.

  “Berta! Are you still down there?”

  “Coming.” I hastened up the steps and shaded my eyes from the bright sun that had begun its ascent into a clear blue sky.

  Johanna grabbed my hand and pulled me along. “Sister Muhlbach thought you’d gone to sleep down there.”
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  “Who could sleep in such a place? I’m sure it’s full of all kinds of creatures.”

  “A few spiders and maybe a snake or two—or perhaps a weasel.” With lightning speed, she snatched my arm in a quick pinch.

  Heart pounding, I jumped backwards. Johanna’s laughter rang in my ears, and anger swelled in my chest. “That wasn’t funny! You frightened me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I thought you were the girl who loved to play pranks and have fun.”

  Sister Muhlbach waved us inside. “Come along. There’s breakfast to cook. What about the milk? Sweet or sour?” Her eyebrows arched high on her forehead.

  “Sweet.”

  She stared at my empty hands. “You did not bring any upstairs for breakfast?”

  “You didn’t tell me. I didn’t think I was supposed—”

  “Ach! That’s the problem. You didn’t think. Now go fetch a can of milk and fill the pitchers. I’ll slice the bread for you.”

  This time I grabbed the lantern before I hurried out the back door and down the cellar stairs. What did she mean that she’d slice the bread for me? If I was supposed to slice the bread, why had she sent me to the cellar? No doubt I’d be assigned to dishwashing again this evening. I lifted one of the cans from beneath the heavy rugs used to help keep the milk cold and hiked back up the steps.

  The bell had sounded, and soon the tables would be filled with hungry men, women, and children. Sister Muhlbach pointed to the empty pitchers. After filling them, I placed one on each of the tables and returned to the kitchen for further instruction.

  Hands on hips, Sister Muhlbach watched my every move. Just looking at her tart expression was enough to make me squint my eyes and purse my lips. “Each table needs bread and syrup. Then come back for the oatmeal.”

  I dutifully placed platters laden with bread, pitchers of syrup, and tureens of oatmeal first on the men’s tables, then on the women’s tables, and then on the table occupied by the older children. I’d deposited the last of the oatmeal and had nearly made it back to the kitchen when one of the elders motioned to me.