A Simple Song (6 page)

“Come on,” Cooper urged her. “Don't keep that voice to yourself.”

The others clapped now, calling out encouragement. She went up front, and trying not to nervously twist the ends of her shawl, she told them that she liked songs that told stories. “I'm not sure, but I think this one is called ‘One Tin Soldier.'
I had to listen to it quite a few times before I understood its meaning.” It was one of the favorites of the radio station, and she'd probably heard it a dozen times by now.

The barn grew very quiet as she sang the opening words: “Listen, children, to a story . . .” She continued singing loud and clear, telling a story in song about a people who lived on a mountain and those who lived in the valley. For some reason the valley people were jealous, thinking that the mountain people had a great treasure buried up there. They insisted the mountain people should hand it over—or they would kill them. The people on the mountain offered to share their treasure, but the valley people refused. They wanted it all. So they went to war, killing all the mountain people. But when they pulled up the stone where the treasure was buried, all they found beneath it were the words “Peace on Earth.”

When she finished the song, the barn was so silent she wondered if they all hated the song and her singing. “I'm sorry,” she said quickly. “I know that was a serious song. But it reminded me of what we believe . . . our history . . . and . . .” She looked to Bekka for some help, but then she realized Bekka was crying. In fact, a number of people had tears in their eyes.

Cooper stepped up beside her now. “That was the best song I've ever heard,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. They all began to clap and cheer, begging Katrina to sing another song.

Relieved that they hadn't hated the song or her singing, she promised to sing another song after they did some more group singing. Before the night was over, Katrina wound up singing five more songs to her friends. When it was time to go, many of them begged to know if she would be back again next time. She promised she would try. But even as she promised this, she wondered, what if her parents found out?

“I don't see why you worry so much about what your parents think,” Bekka said as they sat in the little office. They had just finished listening to the rest of the Willow Tree record, and it was well past one o'clock in the morning.

“We're supposed to respect and obey our parents,” Katrina reminded her.

“You do respect and obey them,” Bekka told her. “More than most kids.”

“But my daed would not approve of me singing like I did tonight.” Katrina was just finishing going through the last of Mammi's things, eager to open a sealed envelope she'd found. She hoped that it, like another envelope she'd just opened, might contain more photos of Mammi and her musical friends. She'd written “Willy and Larry and Starla” as well as the dates, all between 1962 and 1967, on the backs. When Katrina opened this envelope, she was surprised to see what looked like dollar bills. When she pulled them out, she was shocked to see that they were hundred-dollar bills. “Bekka!” she exclaimed, holding the fluttering bills in her hand. “Look at this!”

Bekka turned from her computer, where she'd been playing a game. Her eyes opened wide. “Where did you get that?”

“It was in Mammi's things.” Katrina counted the bills. “Seven hundred dollars. Can you believe it?”

Bekka came over to watch as Katrina examined each bill carefully. “The dates are all before 1968. She must've put them in there when she got married.”

“And left them there this whole time?”

Katrina just nodded.

“What are you going to do with them?” Bekka asked.

“I'll have to give them back to Daadi.” Katrina wondered how she would manage to do this without attracting attention from someone else—like Aunt Fannie.

“Why?” Bekka asked. “I thought Alma gave all this stuff to you.”

“She did, but we didn't realize there would be money.” Perhaps Katrina could get Aunt Alma to help.

“Your grandmother was one mysterious woman.” Bekka shook her head.

“
Ja
. Her story keeps growing bigger.” Katrina thought of Aunt Alma again, knowing she would want to hear the music on this record. “Can I ask Aunt Alma to come to your office to hear Mammi's songs?”

“
Ja
. Tell her to come on over. I'm usually out here in the afternoon.” Bekka let out a yawn, and Katrina realized how late it was. They began putting things away, and with everything turned off, they tiptoed into the house. Once they were in bed, Katrina listened to the sounds of the night. Bekka's even breathing signaled she was asleep, but Katrina was now wide awake.

So many thoughts and emotions were rushing through her
mind—guilt for singing, concerns for the family farm, curiosity about Mammi's past and the money, dreams of someday becoming Cooper's wife, worry that marriage would take her far from her family—it was like a herd of wild horses had been set loose inside her head. Finally, she slipped out of bed and retrieved her little radio from her bag, slid in the earplug, and eventually began to feel drowsy as she listened to the comforting sounds of music from decades past.

Katrina knew that Daadi might already be asleep by now. It wasn't that church was physically tiring, since they mostly sat, but the three-hour service did make for a long morning. Then there was the social gathering afterward, along with a light lunch. By the time Daadi got home, he was usually ready for a nap, but Katrina had asked Aunt Alma to keep him awake until she got there. Now she was hurrying along the fence line with seven hundred dollars pinned inside of her camisole, where it had been since this morning before church.

Aunt Alma greeted her on the porch. “Katrina, I told Daed you wanted to take a walk with him.”

Daadi smiled as he emerged from the front room. “I would be honored to walk with you, Katrina.”

“Thank you.” She linked her arm in his, and together they went down the steps. As they strolled away from the house, she made small talk about the weather and the crops. Once they were a safe distance away, she began to speak more openly. “Daadi,” she began, “I helped Aunt Alma clear away Mammi's things.”

“Ja.”
He nodded. “She told me. That seems fitting. I know I can trust you, Katrina.”

“
Ja
. Of course you can.” She pointed to a log bench. “Do you want to sit?”

He seemed unsure but then agreed. “You would think after sitting all morning in church, we would be tired of sitting.”

As he eased himself down, she turned from him and unpinned the envelope of bills from her camisole. “There were interesting things in Mammi's box,” she told him.

“I figured there would be.”

“You mean you didn't actually know what was in there?”

“Didn't know . . . and don't want to know.” He looked directly at her. “I don't mind that you know. You're like her in so many ways.”

“So you don't want me to tell you about what was in the box?”

“That's right. When your mammi asked me to make her a box to put the things from her past in, she told me I could look if I wanted, but I said, ‘No, thank you, everything I need to know about you is right in front of me.' So after she filled the box, she hammered the lid down tight, and that was the end of it.”

“But you still didn't want anyone else to know about her past?”

He nodded firmly. “That's right. Her past was hers and hers alone. No one else needs to know.”

Katrina bit her lip.

“Well, excepting you and Alma. I don't mind that you two know.” He adjusted the brim of his straw hat to keep the afternoon sun out of his eyes. “But don't tell your father. Your mammi never wanted Frost to know about her past. He was her only child, and I think it was her way of protecting him.”

“What if there was something in the box that would be useful to you?”

He looked doubtful. “Useful to me? Something that was nailed in that box all those years ago? I don't see how.”

She held out the money. “This was in the box, Daadi.”

He peered down at the bills with a surprised but troubled expression.

“I thought I should give it back to you.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I do not want that money.”

“What do I do with it then?”

“I don't much care.” His expression grew stony hard, as if he was remembering something, and she wondered how much he really knew about his deceased wife's past. Was it possible he imagined it to be worse than it was?

“Then I will give it to Daed.” She turned to pin the envelope of money back inside her dress.

“No. You cannot do that, Katrina.”

“Why not?”

“Like I told you, your mammi never wanted Frost to know about her past. That is something I want to continue to respect. For her sake. And for his.”

“But what about the money?”

“You can burn it for all I care.” He pushed himself to his feet.

“Just don't give it to my father,” she said quietly as she linked her arm in his again.

“That's right. And don't bring this up with me again, Katrina.” His tone was as firm as Daed's was when he corrected his children.

“No, Daadi. I won't.” She walked him to the house, saw him to his chair in the front room, then went on her way. She had no idea what she would do with the money, but she wondered if it could somehow help with Daed's back. She
had heard Mamm saying how expensive his surgery would be. How far would seven hundred dollars go?

Her house was its usual Sunday kind of quiet. Sadie was reading in the front room. The brothers were nowhere to be seen. Daed was probably still flat on his back, just like he'd been the last several days. She found Mamm sitting outside next to her flower garden, just staring blankly at it.

“Hello,” Katrina called out as she approached.

Mamm looked up. “You're back from visiting Daadi?”

Katrina nodded as she sat down on the bench next to Mamm. Without really thinking, she unpinned the envelope from her camisole and handed it to Mamm.

“What's this?” Mamm's eyes opened wide when she saw the contents.

“Seven hundred dollars.”

Mamm looked at Katrina with a confused expression. “Where did you get it?”

“Daadi said I'm not supposed to tell Daed—or anyone really. But it's from Mammi.”

“Mammi left this to you?”

Katrina paused, trying to think of a way to explain this dilemma while honoring both her grandparents' wishes. “I thought maybe it could help Daed get the back operation.”

“That is generous of you, Katrina, but Daed's operation will cost more than twenty times this amount.”

Katrina wasn't very fast at math, but she knew that meant more than fourteen thousand dollars. “Really?”

Mamm nodded, handing the money back.

“What should I do with this?”

“Save it for your future. I'm sure that's why Mammi left
it to you.” She frowned. “And do as Daadi says. Do not tell anyone about this money. It will only stir up jealousy.”

“Where should I keep it?”

Mamm got up and headed back into the kitchen, where she found a canning jar and filled it with red beans. “Slide the money down into the middle of the beans.”

Katrina did as she was told. Mamm secured the lid, climbed onto a step stool, and tucked the jar far in the back of the top shelf of the pantry where it couldn't even be seen. “It will be safe there,” she assured Katrina, “until you have need of it. For your future.”

“Unless someone accidentally makes it into a pot of beans.”

Mamm laughed. “Costly chili.”

They walked back outside and sat back down on the bench. “Mamm, can I ask you a question?”

“You know you can.”

“Why is it wrong to sing?”

“Wrong?” Mamm frowned. “It's not wrong. We just sang from the
Ausbund
at church this morning.”

“I know. I mean the kind of singing where you enjoy the music.”

“We let you and Cal go to the group singing last night.”

“I know. But I don't think Daed really approves of that.”

Mamm sighed. “Your father has some of his own ideas about singing.”

“Some mothers sing lullabies to their babies,” Katrina pointed out. “I've heard them. And some sing silly songs to their little children. But you never did that with us.”

She nodded a bit sadly. “That is because your daed forbade it.”

Katrina had suspected this. “Do you know why?”

Mamm shook her head. “It was one of the few things we disagreed upon. But he was the head of the household. I submit to him.”

“Did your mother sing to you?”

“
Ja
. She did.”

“I wonder if I will sing to my children . . . someday.”

Mamm smiled. “They will be blessed children if you do, Katrina. I've heard you sing.”

For some reason that made Katrina so happy that she felt tears of joy in her eyes. She hugged Mamm. “Thank you.”

“I'm sorry I didn't sing to you as a child.”

“I understand now.”

“Remember, your father is simply trying to raise you children the way his parents raised him.”

“I know. I just hope I can do it differently.”

“That will depend on who you marry.”

Katrina thought of Cooper now. She had never mentioned to her parents that Cooper was interested in apprenticing in a settlement more than half a day's journey away. She knew that Mamm would be distressed to think of Katrina living so far away.

“If it would make you feel better, you might want to talk to one of the ministers about singing. I know their views on singing are not as strict as your daed's.”

Although Katrina felt somewhat comforted by her mother's words, she still suspected that Mamm would have been disappointed to see Katrina singing like she did for her friends last night. She hoped Mamm would never find out.

The next two weeks passed uneventfully. Katrina continued singing along with the radio as she did her outdoor chores. She continued to learn the words of more songs. She also
continued to look forward to group singing nights and singing in front of her friends whenever they asked. And they asked a lot.

“You sang beautifully tonight.” Bekka patted Katrina on the back as they rode home from group singing together. “I really loved that song about the man on the hill.”

Katrina thanked her. Tonight she was sitting in the front of the buggy between Peter, who was driving the pair of gleaming black Percherons again, and Cooper, who was seated on her right. Meanwhile, Bekka was pleased as could be to sit in back with Cal. In fact, Cal appeared happy about the arrangement too.

Peter was whistling one of the tunes from earlier, and the horses' hooves were clip-clopping along in time. Katrina couldn't think of anywhere she would rather be right now. With a nearly full moon high in the sky and her friends all around her, all seemed right with the world. It was a moment she wished she could freeze in time.