“Amish Paradise” - Summer
Indiana, 1956. Rachael and Joe are from different worlds although they live in the same small farming community. She is Amish and her people have chosen to live a plain life. But Rachael is a young woman brimming with curiosity about the rest of the world and especially the handsome young man who lives the next farm over and who shares her desire to escape familiar patterns.

Excerpt:

Rachael stood on the baking sidewalk, the hot cement burning through the soles of her heavy, black shoes, and gazed up at the theater marquee. Rebel Without a Cause. The poster in the window showed a young man with his hair combed back from his forehead in a tall pompadour. His eyes squinted and his mouth was drawn into a grim line of discontent. She thought she understood exactly how he felt. She wondered what the movie was about and wished she dared go see it.

She turned to her ghostly reflection in the display window of the dress shop by which she stood. Her brown hair was parted in the middle, drawn into a coil at the back of her head and covered by a white bonnet. Her eyes were wide and her nose narrow and slightly tilted up at the end. Her lip curved in a bow underneath. She was tanned brown from working in the sun and completely plain in her dark navy dress, long stockings and thick black shoes. She wished she could see her reflection in a real mirror.

The theater doors opened and a crowd of young people streamed out laughing and chattering. The afternoon matinee was over.

“Oh my gosh, James Dean is a dreamboat!” A girl with bright red hair pulled into a ponytail high on the back of her head chewed on the straw poking out of her soda. She reached behind herself to brush the wrinkles out of her pale blue skirt. “Couldn’t you just die?”

“It’s his eyes. Jeez Louise, you don’t see any guy around here with eyes like that. It’s such a tragedy he’s gone.” Her companion sighed dramatically then popped her gum loudly. She adjusted the green cloth band holding back her perfectly straight brown hair then ran her hands down to the ends of her hair and moaned. “My flip’s wilted! Darn this humidity.”

Rachael stepped closer to the dress shop window and pretended to look at the mannequins. She recognized the two girls talking and thought their names were Darlene and Linda.

A hulking boy in a striped, short-sleeved shirt bounded up behind the girls and threw an arm over their shoulders. The shirt stretched around his bulging biceps. “Guy’s a wimp. All he does the whole movie is sit around whining, making faces and cryin’ like a girl. The car race was cool though.”

The girl who might have been Darlene shrugged the big, blond boy’s arm off her shoulders. “He’s sensitive—something you wouldn’t know anything about. You have no more feelings than a big, dumb dog, Harley.”

“Baby, I’m full of feelings. Whyn’t you go out with me some time and I’ll show you.” Harley pursued Darlene, putting a hand on her arm to stop her from walking away.

“Not interested.” Again she shook him off, turned away abruptly and ran right into Rachael. Darlene frowned, stepped back and wrinkled her nose as if she’d walked through manure. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Rachael’s eyes slid away and she moved even closer to the building as though she would disappear through the glass.

“Don’t you people always make your own clothes?” Linda looked from Rachael to the dress display in the window. “You poor thing. You’re window shopping. You must get sick of wearing boring colors all the time.”

Darlene shook her head and pushed past Rachael. “It’s weird.”

Harley reached out and grabbed Rachael’s white cap off her hair. “They do get to wear these cute hats though.”

Rachael snatched at it but he had already whisked it away. Her heart pounded. Confrontation with the English was something she’d been taught to avoid at all costs since she was a child. She tried to control the nervous tremor in her voice. “Give it back, please.”

“What? This?” Harley laughed and swung the cap round his head like a lariat by its long ties.

Darlene paused on the sidewalk to watch. She laughed. “Harley, don’t! Leave the weirdo alone.”

“Come on. It’s mean,” Linda added.

Rachael turned to walk away. There was no point in talking. The cap was gone.

“Aw, come on. I was just kiddin’.” He held it out toward her. “Here. Take it.”
Rachael wasn’t stupid. She didn’t believe his fake-friendly tone, but she reached for the small bonnet dangling from his beefy hand. He snatched it away, holding it high above her head and guffawing like a jackass.

Tears stung her eyes and Rachael blinked furiously. She hated how her emotions surged just beneath the surface these days. She bit her lip and firmed her chin, refusing to cry in front of these people.

“Hey.” A deep voice came from behind Rachael and a tall figure brushed past her to stand between her and the teasing boy. “What’s up, asshole? Give me the damn hat.”

Harley’s little pig eyes widened in surprise and his hand dropped.

The other boy seized the cap from his slack grip and tossed it to Rachael without even looking at her. His back was broad, his white T-shirt stretched tight across his shoulders and his fist was clenched at his side. “Grow up,” he growled at Harley.

Rachael held her cap and stared at the back of the young man’s head. His brown hair was a little longer than a crew cut and stuck out at crazy angles—too short to lie flat and too long to hang straight. She recognized him. It was her neighbor, Joe Langdon.

Harley scowled and aggressively stepped up to Joe. “Don’t call me asshole, asshole. It’s none of your business anyway. I was just messing around a little.”

“Well, don’t.” Joe butted his shoulder hard against Harley’s.

Harley leaned toward him and grinned. “You wanna start something?”

Joe had turned and Rachael could see his profile. His jaw clenched so tight the muscles corded on the side of his neck. He stared at Harley with narrowed eyes and crowded a little closer.

“Hey, guys,” Linda stepped forward. “Not here. Cops are right across the street.”

Harley looked past Joe toward the police station on the other side of Main. “Okay. Tonight. Harrow’s Bend. Drag race.” He raised a finger and jabbed it in the air at Joe. “Be there. 10 o’clock.” He turned and strode dramatically away.

Joe shook his head. “Asshole,” he muttered.

Darlene moved close to Joe and tilted her head to look up at him with gleaming eyes. “Are you gonna? ‘Cause I could drop the scarf.”

He snorted. “No.” He turned abruptly toward Rachael “You okay?”

Brilliant green eyes stared down into hers and she forgot how to speak. “Y-yes.”

He nodded then frowned. “You’re Daniel Yoder’s sister, Rachael, right?”

“Yes.”

“Need a ride home?”

Rachael would have loved a ride home. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d ridden in an automobile. “No, thank you. I’m with my father.” She gestured down the street toward the hardware store. “I have to meet him. I just stopped to buy some buttons and sewing thread for my mother.” Why was she telling him this? He couldn’t possibly care.

Darlene was at Joe’s elbow again, touching his arm, moving herself into his line of sight. Her glossy, red ponytail swung against her shoulders. “Are you going to the dance at Atchison on Saturday?”

He glanced at her. “I doubt it.”

“Think about it.” She looked up, eyes lowered seductively and a small smile curving her lips. “I’ll save you a dance.”

“Come on, Darlene. I have to get home or my mom’s going to kill me.” Linda grabbed her friend’s arm and tugged impatiently.

“Bye, Joe.” Darlene gave him a last smile and sauntered up the sidewalk.

Joe turned his attention back to Rachael. He smiled and her stomach jumped. “It’s kind of weird that we’ve been neighbors all these years and I’ve never really met you.”

Actually Rachael didn’t think it was weird at all. It would have been strange if they had met, even as young children at play. Amish girls didn’t socialize with boys much and especially not with outsiders. She held up the hat she was still clutching. “Thank you … for helping me.”

“No problem. With idiots like that around it’s no wonder your people want to stay apart.”

Rachael set her cap on the back of her head and arranged the ties to hang down on either side of her face. She felt Joe watching and it made her self-conscious, as if she were dressing in front of him. It gave her a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.

He ran a hand through his crazy hair and let out a breath. “Whew, it’s hot today. Hey, if I can’t give you a ride home can I at least buy you a pop or ice cream or something while you’re waiting for your dad.”

Sweat trickled down Rachael’s back and beaded along her hairline. She imagined sweet, cold ice cream melting on her tongue. “No, thank you. I can’t.” She started to walk toward the hardware store.

He strode alongside her. “Because I’m not Amish.”

She hesitated then answered, “Yes.”

“But I’m your neighbor. It wouldn’t be like a date or anything—just ice cream.” His voice was teasing but not mocking like Harley’s. Its bass tone vibrated along Rachael’s spine, making her shiver.

“Thank you, but neither my father nor the minister would approve.”

He gave an exaggerated look around. “I don’t see a black suit in sight. I think we’re safe.”

She frowned. “I shouldn’t even be walking with you. I certainly can’t sit to eat with you.”

“Then we won’t sit and we won’t walk down Main Street where somebody might see.” He stopped and, despite herself, Rachael stopped too. He nodded to the drugstore. “I’ll buy ice cream and we can walk to the vacant lot in back to eat it. No watchers. No trouble.”

Rachael bit her lip then nodded once.

Joe started into the store then turned and looked at her, freezing her to the sidewalk with his emerald eyes. “You’ll still be here when I get back?”

Rachael thought about her father, who would be finished with his errands soon and wondering what was taking her so long. He might walk over to the general store to find her and learn that she had bought her sewing notions and left over twenty minutes ago. She lifted her chin and looked straight at Joe Langdon. “Yes. I’ll wait for you.”