Cornfields

There were no cornfields there. That was the first thing Caleb noticed. There were so many things there; there were huge buildings and lots of lights. A couple trees, even.

But no cornfields.

Where would he be able to get alone to think? It was hard enough back home to have to walk through the cornfields without Mama with him. Now he couldn't walk through them at all.

He was generally a more quiet person. He didn't see the point of saying lots of useless things. But what his mouth didn't say, his brain made up for. His mind was always going, thinking through everything. That's why he liked walking through the cornfields so much. It was a place where he could think.

It was different here. There were so many distractions, he felt like his brain was suffocating. Especially after last night, when Aunt Sarah had given them a tellin'. Wrestling had been sending his mind whirling, too. He had to get alone to sort out his thoughts. But where could he go?

He was waiting for Aunt Sarah to come pick him and Anna Mae up from school, but Anna Mae was nowhere in sight. Probably changing back into her Amish clothes and getting all that Englischer paint off her face, Caleb thought. Aunt Sarah wasn't anywhere either. But that was understandable, because Caleb had gotten out earlier than normal today. He sighed and looked around. Not too far away he saw the tops of trees, then he got up and started walking towards them.

In a few minutes he was standing at the entrance to a place with actual grass and trees. A sign close by told him it was a city park. It wasn't a cornfield, but there were things growing here. He looked back toward the school, then started walking in the park. There were some people there, and some of them were looking at him funny, but they were easy to ignore. Even with the people, this was the quietest place he'd been in since they came to Aunt Sarah's world. He was starting to think it was the nicest place, too.

As he walked he started to sort out his thoughts. The first thing he thought about was wrestling. He was good at it. Coach had said so, and so had the other boys on his wrestling team. But he felt like Liddie wouldn't like it. He didn't want her to know he was on the team. She would think he was doing it for the attention and because of pride, for sure and for certain.

But was he? After that first wrestling match all the boys had started clapping. For him. He had never received so much attention for doing something. He liked it. Was that wrong? Of course it could be. You could get too proud, but did that make all of it wrong?

And what about Anna Mae?

Caleb shook his head a little bit. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? He couldn't pick at the mote in her eye if he had a beam in his. He wouldn't try to judge her. He knew how hard it was in that school.

He turned his mind to Aunt Sarah and the tellin' she'd given them last night. It hadn't been very long into it when Caleb had realized that he knew the two sisters in it. He was listening to one of them.

It had been in the cornfield, about a year ago, on a crisp autumn day, when he first asked Momma about her sister. Mama had been silent for a few seconds, then she turned to him.

"I love my sister so very much," Mama answered in her soft, calming voice. "We were best friends while we grew up. We loved to go to the beach and gather sea shells together. Then we took our sea shells and prayed for each other."

"Do you still pray for each other?" Caleb had asked.

"I pray for her, but I don't think she prays."

"That's a reason we should pray for her though, isn't it?"

"Yes Caleb, it most certainly is." Mama had smiled, but she looked so tired and sad that Caleb hadn't asked any more questions.

Now he had heard everything from Aunt Sarah's point of view. But, like Josiah, he didn't want the story to be ended yet. He couldn't help but wonder what ending the story would have.

Caleb looked toward the school again and saw Anna Mae, back in her Amish clothes, standing with Aunt Sarah and looking around. He started running toward them. When his black shoes reached the edge of the street he looked back toward the park.

"Danke," he whispered. "Danke, God, for this makeshift cornfield."