My Dearest Naomi (35 page)

This Friday will be another school auction similar to the one when you
visited before Thanksgiving. Only larger this time, from the sounds of it. It’s the school’s main source of funds for operations. I must say, the last one was an awful lot of fun, plus you were here.

Remember the board I made for the last auction? It was shaped like the state of Iowa and had all of this year’s schoolchildren’s names burned into it? It sold for $85 in the last auction. I’m making another one. My contribution to the cause, so to speak.

I was planning to make an extra board to permanently hang on the schoolhouse wall when someone suggested that one should be made for all the school years back to 1957. That’s a good idea but outside of my ability. So I will leave the project alone, and will also not hang one on the wall lest someone think one year is being exalted above the others.

Love you,

Eugene

March 23

Good morning. It’s beautiful and cold. Henry and his son, Isaac, were here for the night and left early this morning. I made popcorn for them and served cider. They had already eaten supper when they arrived around 7:00. It was good to have them here, and good listening to Dad and his brother talking. I liked the chatter of their voices more than anything, since they didn’t really say much beyond catching up on the news from people they both know.

Isaac played a game of chess with me. The boy is a whiz and beat me soundly in forty-five minutes. Too bad he doesn’t live around here so I could learn from him.

Rosanna went to the hospital for an electrocardiogram of her heart. This was to confirm Dr. Dickson’s diagnosis of a prolapsed valve, which proved to be correct. They knew the valve was nothing to worry about, and the test was simply a double check.

I find your problems with the eighth-grade girls amusing, and now Velma has joined in. There’s no worry really. Girls are temperamental. It’s the afflictions of our femininity. Maybe God didn’t want men to have things too easy.

Why in the world do you think you have to change the lines on your letter writing paper? I don’t mind your writing at all. In fact, I think you write neater than any boy’s writing I have seen. Anyway, I don’t think boys should write as nicely as girls. It wouldn’t be right. And if you like pages without lines, I don’t see any reason why you should change. The important thing is that I couldn’t do without your letters, so however you write—don’t stop.

I miss you,

Naomi

March 23

At school we’re trying to get everything arranged so the studies come out right at the end of the year. At present, I still don’t know when the last day of school will be, so that might affect things. I should also review some of the subjects. Getting through the books sooner rather than later would be for the best, if I can manage.

If the school board agrees to the closing date I hope for, I will be coming home April 30. If not, then the week after. If I hadn’t lost the two days in January when I went to the doctor in Missouri, the thirtieth would be a sure thing. But that’s how things go, and the trip was well worth it. I used to wonder why other people didn’t battle with depression as I did, since everyone seemed so happy. Now I know, and it feels good to avoid those crushing lows.

Tonight is Bible study as usual. Each week brings me closer to being with you and walking the roads of home. In the night hours I can imagine your eyes lit up with love and can hear your voice speaking to me. I awaken in sorrow to know that it’s just a dream. But soon, my darling, it will not be.

This finds me home from school and reading your wonderful letter. Not that it takes the place of your presence, but it helps. The fancy stationary was nice. You’ve never used that kind before. Are you preparing me for the homecoming? A forewarning of all your sweetness and tender love?

You’re likely to fall over from shock at this news, but I am getting along much better with the eighth-grade girls. I’m still puzzled as to the reason, but that’s not surprising. I know one thing, it makes for a much more pleasant atmosphere without two grumpy girls stalking the schoolhouse.

Last night the Bible study was held fifty miles from here, which entailed a long drive down. I traveled in a station wagon with three other boys, the driver being the fellow who is taking me to Chicago on Saturday.

We must have all had the talking urge because we jabbered like a bunch of girls all the way down and back. Before we crawled into the car to come back, there was a snowball fight in the yard with the youth from the other vehicles. Sort of a strange ending to a Bible study, but it was fun.

Tonight there will be a volleyball game for the youth. Enjoyable, indeed, and it helps make the evening go faster. There is little to do around the house, and since I have no car or buggy, where could I go?

I’m in a rush tonight trying to get ready for the school auction, which starts in an hour.

I was surprised to find a letter from you today. So you must have decided to write on Wednesday instead of Thursday.

So you think I should keep the lineless pages. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have changed if I hadn’t wanted to. I was getting bored with the blank pages, and this helps keep the writing straighter. Also, the pages fill up faster.

Sharon has been back in school for the past two days and is catching up nicely. She returned all tanned and cheery from her stay in Florida. I’ll finish checking her back work over the weekend. Her grades certainly haven’t suffered from what I’ve checked so far. That’s not surprising. She’s a smart girl.

Sweet dreams,

Eugene

March 26

I don’t want you to tell anyone this, but Robert and Beth have plans for the middle of May this year, and Adam and Brenda for the last part of May, which leaves the first part of June open for us without interfering with anyone else. Does that sound okay for a wedding date?

Brenda also wants us to be table waiters at her wedding. I told her that I can’t imagine you would object, but let me know if you do. And again, not even a whisper of this to anyone. Mom was only told because of the need to coordinate the use of Wayne Helmuth’s place as the wedding site.

The new girl, Sarah, and I had a long talk Sunday night after the hymn singing. She was so sympathetic with my tale of loneliness and said she thinks you must be a wonderful person. I told her she was right. I am thankful for a friend who truly seems to understand what I’m going through.

Rumor has it that Sarah was dumped by her boyfriend in their old community. I have a hard time imagining that. She is quite a stunning beauty and handles herself very well around boys. Much better than I do. I think it’s more likely she dumped him.

I liked the “dingle” poem, and I could understand it just fine. I dreamed last night that you arrived home, and it was so good to see you again.

Sometimes I think I’ll go berserk with all the wedding stuff, and you not here to talk things over with. Plus, my sisters act like it’s their wedding with all their advice and criticism. I finally teased Rosanna and Betsy that if they keep this up, they won’t be invited.

This was fast day prior to communion, so some of us didn’t eat breakfast. It does the soul good, I think—the afflicting part, even when I got a headache out of the deal.

I forgot to mention yesterday that I got that tricky letter of yours. Mom brought in the mail and told me there was no letter for me. I calmly accepted the fact since it fit the day anyway, then Mom opened her letter from Luella, and you had mailed yours along with hers. That wasn’t very nice, but the letter was.

Larry and Delmar from out your way will need vests for their role as
table waiters. Can you find out if they have black suits? I hope so because nothing else will look very good with brown shirts.

Well, so long.

I miss you awfully,

Naomi

March 27

Whoopee! I get to come home the last week of April. Let the day come! And just four more Sundays without you, and then we’ll be together!

I won’t have put in the amount of school days I need, but the board said I have done favors for them, so they can do one for me. This goes against my sense of responsibility, but they said I shouldn’t allow the missed days to bother me. So I won’t, but I will rather think of seeing you.

Last night I was at the chairman of the school board’s house for supper. They invited the other two board members, but only one could come. We talked about the school year and how we first met. One of them said they were scared when I was hired that I would turn out to be an Amish boy out on a wild spree of some kind.

I can see the reason for the fear, but it was quite groundless, as you well know.

The chairman’s wife brought out the letter I had written inquiring about the job and asked me if I wanted them to read it out loud. I said, “Sure.”

When she was done one of them said, “I always liked that he asked about wages last.”

We all laughed, and I left them uninformed of the fact I had done so on purpose. Not that money was a big concern to me, but it’s amazing what will impress people.

This afternoon I’m going up to Saul’s place where four of us boys have gotten a wild idea into our heads—we will sing together as a quartet. And I can’t even sing that well. Saul’s girls claim we blend well, but I don’t believe them. Plus, it takes more than blending together. One must also be able to carry a tune.

Tonight there is a pizza supper for the young folks, and I will attend, even though I can’t eat a lot of pizza—just a piece or so.

I have finished filing my income tax. Yes, I must still do so in the state of Iowa. I have been waiting for the state forms from Indiana because I must file in both states, and those arrived today.

The preschool students were in attendance today for the first time.
They do that here—the next year’s first graders attend for the last month. All of them were really quiet, coloring in their books and looking around the room like they were scared half to death.

We left for the maple sugar camp this morning around 9:00, arriving back after 11:00 sometime. The farm gave us a tour of the place. It’s set back in the hills north of here, with miles of tubing running from tree to tree and then down to the boiling vats.

They gave us samples on the way out, and I even tasted a small bit of the sweetness. No negative reaction so far, but I’ll have to watch such temptations carefully.

Tonight on the walk home from school some of Saul’s clan approached in their pickup truck. They asked if I wanted to accompany them. There was a skunk caught in a trap, and they were on the way to shoot it. I said “Sure” and leaped into the truck.

They raced across the bumpy field to a ravine where the trap was. I stayed on the truck to watch the action, but even then the smell drifted up to me. Hopefully a bath and a new change of clothing will knock out the smell. But I have no way of telling since Luella isn’t home to ask, and one could hardly smell himself under such circumstances.

This evening there is a birthday party for Erma, Saul’s youngest girl. That means I’ll be out tonight and tomorrow night as well.

Hang tight there. I should be home soon.

With much love,

Eugene

March 30

Here I am again. Just the same old thing and the same longing to be home.

I had been getting reports from some of the students about note passing during school hours. No names, just whispers at recess time and over lunch. I figured most schools have such things, and I can’t be watching them all the time in order to catch it.

Still, I went through the desks tonight and found piles of notes in Jackie and Dakota’s desks. Beats me why they didn’t destroy them since they surely heard the same whispers I heard.

None of the other desks had any, so I figured that was about the extent of things. Both of them sit toward the back and across from each other. I kept a good eye on them today and didn’t see any note passing, but they were cutting up quite a bit, which had to be distracting to the students around them trying to study.

I decided to handle it by moving both girls’ desks up front. They didn’t have anything to say but hung their heads and complied.

Lester then pops up and said he didn’t pass any notes. I said, “That’s good to hear, but I didn’t say you did.”

Dakota quickly raised her hand and said that Lester
had
passed notes.

I asked, “Have you got the note?”

She said, “Yes,” and produced it from her tablet.

I took the note and read it out loud: “Quit fooling around with me, Jackie and Dakota.”

“Well,” I said, “Lester shouldn’t have been passing notes, but perhaps he was just trying to be nice instead of tattling to the teacher when the girls disturbed him.”