As the horse made his way down the dusty road to the different houses in our community, Samuel and I discussed what we might do with the day. It seemed as though our "serious creek-side talk" had been postponed. Our deliveries went by quickly, each household thanking us for the fresh bottles of milk which would also provide butter and cheese for the family. As we wound our way through the area, Samuel and I entertained several thoughts of leisure. It was a rare day for us- the hay had been collected the week before, and would be moved on Wednesday to the barn when all the men could help and our services were not needed until the afternoon milking.

"What do you wish to do today?" Samuel always asked others' opinions before entertaining his own.

I straightened my kapp and untied the knot under my chin, allowing the strings to float freely about my neck. "You mentioned going swimming earlier at breakfast. What if we went to the pool out on the edge of the township?"

Samuel's face brightened at the thought of the cool water. Already, I could feel the warmth of the sun beating down on us; a bead of sweat ran down Samuel's smooth cheek. I could imagine the pale waves lapping at the edge of the pool. We turned and grinned at each other, determined to finish the deliveries and then go to the swimming pool for an afternoon of unusual leisure.

By the time that our deliveries had been finished, the word had spread that we were planning on heading west to the edge of the township where the nearest local pool was located. About ten of us were sitting in the back of Samuel's buggy as his faithful horse made its way west. We carried a lively conversation whilst riding along; the jiggle of the open-air buggy soothing and comfortable.

Several of the boys were laughing. Joseph Lapp, one of my father's helpers, recalled, "I can't even remember the last time I went swimming. I think the last time to it was that time when I slipped in the cow manure and Lena's father took me around back and had me wash off in the old horse trough. That trough is big enough to be a swimming pool!"

Levi was known throughout the community for his common mishaps with slippery ground. Twice this year he had been taken to the apothecary to get the back of his head stitched from slipping in the cow manure in our barn. My father insisted that our boot maker put treads on the bottom of his boots to keep him from losing his balance in the slippery muck behind the cow stanchions.

The other boys laughed, and we girls chatted about the next hymnsing we were going to have that Saturday evening in the Esch barn. The ride was short; our community being quite small and already near the border of the township. Once we had arrived, Samuel let the horse out to pasture in the pen provided for Amish visitors. The buggy remained near a large dogwood tree. The boys hopped out and helped the girls down and we made our way to the wooden gate where we would enter the pool.

"Ready for a bit of rumspringing?" Jacob Beiler's casual reference to our time of freedom to choose the ways of our church and Englischer ways did not go unnoticed by Samuel and me if by anyone else. It made everyone smile as we thought about it, particularly because swimming was not a particularly devilish scheme. "I bet the water feels wonderful gut."

We approached the edge of the pool, several of us reaching down to untie shoelaces and stuff our socks in between the tongue. The water did feel "wonderful gut"…cool and refreshing. The boys who were bolder took to splashing each other with cupped hands. Samuel rolled up his sleeves and plunged his hands into the water, bringing them up and flinging the cold water. straight into my face. Although shockingly cold to my visage, it was exactly the right temperature needed to cool off. I grinned and gave his shoulder a small swat. Since we were the first people in the pool gate, we had not noticed the half dozen English boys come in behind us, but when I turned to look for a towel I had brought, I noticed them standing and staring at us with mischievous grins gracing their faces.

I whispered in Dietsch to Samuel, "Those boys look like trouble. Maybe we should leave. This afternoon is supposed to be relaxing." I had always been the shy type, never wanting to get in conflict with anyone else and I often went out of my way to avoid confrontations with Englischers.

"They are fine, Lena. They have caused us no problems. Besides, do you really think they would do something here? The lifeguards would evict them." Samuel's reasoning did not eradicate the knot I had in my gut although, at the mention of the lifeguards, the knot did lessen. I told myself to stop worrying and relax, but looked up at the lifeguard's tower. It was empty. I looked at the sign that said "LIFEGUARD ON DUTY." Where were they? Surely there were some lifeguards around to keep the situation from escalating from a nice dip in the pool to clape-ing? Perhaps they were inside getting water?

As we sat, we all noticed the English crowd coming closer. We tried to ignore their derogatory comments toward our dress and lifestyle. However, it became increasingly hard for some of our older boys to control themselves, Levi particularly. I silently willed him to stay seated; although he was usually one of the kindest boys, he was known to resent negative comments toward our ways at much to the exasperation of his parents and our bishop, was known to throw a punch now and then.

One of the English boys knocked off Samuel's hat into the pool from behind him. "What are you doing off the farm, boy?" Another boy grinned from behind the perpetrator.

"Hey Anthony…I wonder if they know how to swim."

At this point, I froze. Samuel seemed to be their main target, and although it was common knowledge in our small community that Samuel could not swim, these Englischers obviously didn't know.

I began speaking rapidly in Dietsch. "Wir sind gehen züruck nach meine Hause. JEZT."

Apparently my outburst in Dietsch was cause for another step in escalation. As we all moved to run out to our buggy, another of the Englisch boys reached out with his right hand and grabbed Samuel's arm. Levi spun around quickly and grabbed the boy's left arm and pulled, but to no avail. Both boys went plunging into the deep water of the pool. It was as though I was watching it in slow motion; the last thing I saw before they both became submerged was Samuel's face contorted in terror as he tried to draw in a breath. The Englisch boy pushed him under and stood on his shoulders to keep him under the water.

I barely even thought about it. The next moment, my shawl was off (in public! What was I thinking!) and I was preparing to jump in after them when I felt hands tugging me back. A team of six lifeguards had come sprinting out of the office adjoined to the little shack where we had come into the pool area. One of them had grabbed my shoulders and was pulling me back.

I felt that I had to explain. "Ach! Samuel cannot swim!" I watched one lifeguard wrench the English boy off of Samuel. Another lifeguard had Samuel on top of his orange rescue buoy; Samuel's long hair was plastered to his head and his eyes were closed. He wasn't kicking and his neck rolled back limply as the lifeguard reached the edge. A third lifeguard sank the backboard and the two worked harmoniously as they began to settle Samuel on the board. They strapped his legs to the board and began to pull him out. I began to run over, only to be pulled back again.

"It looks like he swallowed some water. We can't have anyone interfere with our rescue procedures though. In order to help him, we need to know what happened."

My voice wouldn't come; it was like someone had shoved a tuning fork down my throat. All I could manage was a low moan. Levi and Joseph Lapp were at my side in an instant.

"There were these Englisch boys. They came in just after uns. We only came to dip our feet in…Samuel and I can't swim so gut. The water felt wonderful gut, but the boys were making fun of us and we got up to leave and Lena said we should go because there were no lifeguards. But we got up to go once't and this boy just grabbed him and pulled him into the water!"

I found my voice as I watched the lifeguards at work. They had carefully taken him off the backboard, but he was still not moving or speaking. The lifeguards were speaking rapidly and it was hard for me to understand.

They shook his shoulder once, twice, three times. "Can you hear me, Samuel?" When Samuel did not respond, they pulled out a funny looking clear mask. One lifeguard tilted back his head and listened for his breath, but finding none, began to search his neck for his pulse. He gave a shout. Apparently he had found that. The lifeguard pressed the mask onto Samuel's face and gave two breaths.

This is not real. This cannot be happening. We were going to come and relax and have a little fun. This is not fun. This is not relaxing. Why did we come? All sorts of thoughts began to run through my mind.

As the lifeguard finished questioning us, a police officer came tearing through the gate, looked at us, looked at the Englisch boys and immediately began taking them over to his police car. He began speaking to them and ducking their heads as they got into the car.

The interrogating lifeguard began explaining slowly what the other two lifeguards were doing to Samuel.

"He must have swallowed a lot of water. They are doing abdominal thrusts to remove the water from his lungs. He'll be okay, but we want to see him cough and sputter. That will let us know that he's conscious. When you become conscious, your body automatically has a reflex to cause you to cough if there is water in your lungs."

We watched, all of us Plain kids huddled together, yet standing far enough away to satisfy the lifeguard whose duty it was to keep everyone back. After what seemed like an eternity, the color began to return to Samuel's face and he suddenly wrenched to the side and threw up. He began to cough and choke, bringing up water from his lungs. Other people had come to see what all the commotion was about and so, when the lifeguard left to keep them out, we sidled up to Samuel's left side.

He lay twisted on his side, his shirt sticking to him and his long hair slicked to his forehead. He closed his eyes and gasped to regain oxygen. The lifeguard was trying to soothe him and keep him conscious. We could hear sirens.

"Samuel, is it? Well, Samuel, the paramedics recommended that you go to the hospital to make sure that there's nothing else we can do for you and no complications. I've done everything I can. Are you feeling alright? Better? Okay?"

All Elsam could do was nod. I knelt down and brushed the hair from his face, parting it down the middle the way he liked it. He looked up at me and then flopped his head back down, too tired to lower it gently.

The lifeguard, no longer having to worry about resuscitating Samuel began to think about other things. "How can I reach your parents? Should I drive out to where you live?"

I stood, only after making sure Samuel was still breathing. "I'm not his sister. Samuel is my boyfriend. His father runs Stoltzfus Harness Shop in the township. There is a telephone there where you can reach him."

The EMTs came through the gate with blankets and a stretcher. Samuel, ever the Amishman insisted weakly, "I can walk…" but the EMTs ignored his small plea and strapped him to the stretcher anyway.

"You might be able to walk, buddy, which I doubt, but it's procedure, so that's the way it'll be done."

I wasn't about to let them take him away. "I am going with him. In the auto."

The paramedic looked me over and nodded in the direction of the ambulance. I quickly gave instructions to Levi to take the buggy back to Samuel's home to tell his mother to come to the hospital in the city and climbed into the ambulance after the EMT.

The term clape-ing comes from the term of "clay-ape", most often used as a derogatory nickname for the Amish, probably due to their being farmers. Clape-ing is the harassment of the Amish people by young Englischers.