Authors: Tricia Goyer
The Memory Jar (5 page)
Her warm breath hung on the chilled air as Sarah walked down the dirt road leading to the store. She was the last one to arrive. A small cluster of her Amish friends had already gathered on the wooden front porch of the West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery. The building was made of logs and had a planked walkway leading up to it, like something from the old west. Sarah’s favorite feature was the tall log post near the store. On it were arrows that pointed toward various locations. Each arrow had the name of a place and the distance to it crudely painted on. North Pole – 2,750 miles; South Pole – 9,500 miles; Honolulu, Hawaii – 3,912 miles; Canada – 2 miles. If she had to pick a
place to travel to today, Hawaii would be it. Even though it was spring, the mountain breeze was cold.
“Guder Mariye.”
Sarah smiled at Amos as she approached.
“Good mornin’ to you too,” he answered.
The others also greeted her with warm hellos, and Sarah readjusted the backpack on her shoulder and offered them a wave.
“Beautiful day fer a hike,” Jathan commented.
“Oh, yer coming?” Amos playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “I thought it was jest me and the ladies.”
Jathan nodded, and his eyes flashed the same sparkle Sarah had seen the last time they met.
“Well, if you don’t want me to come, I can help Annie in the kitchen.” He chuckled. “The place is busy today.”
Amos scratched his chin, eyeing the business that was part restaurant, part grocery store. One room inside was dedicated to crafts too.
“This log-style building reminds me of yer
Mem
’s shop back home.” Amos glanced over at Jathan. “Looks almost the same from the outside anyway …”
“Ja.”
Jathan nodded. His lips puckered slightly, and Sarah’s heart sank. Did he miss his family? And what kind of shop could his mother have? She eyed him, for the first time realizing that though she saw him in the restaurant every day, she hadn’t thought to get to know him — to ask about his family back home.
As if reading her thoughts, Jathan stepped closer. “
Mem
has a bakery back in Ohio. She’s been working there since I started school. She’s a
gut
baker, like you —”
The rumbling of an extended-cab diesel truck interrupted, diverting Sarah’s attention. Sarah knew the sound of the truck
as well as any other in these parts. She waved at the older driver, whose trademark cowboy hat was set firmly in place. Millie Arnold parked and jumped down from the cab with the same energy as someone thirty years younger.
“Good morning, crew!” Millie called as she approached. “Where are you youngins off to this early on a Saturday?”
“Robinson Mountain,” Hope Peachy announced first. “Just waiting fer our ride.”
“Now you be careful up there, especially this time of year.” Millie pursed her bright red lips and shook her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s still snow clinging to the trails. Not only that, the bears are waking up and they’re hungry.” She turned and pointed her finger at Jathan’s chest. “Tell me, son, you’ll do all you can to protect these lovely ladies?”
“
Ja
, of course.” His shoulders straightened. “You have my word.”
Satisfied, Millie offered them a parting wave. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get my morning coffee and find something to rile up Edgar.” She chuckled. “It’s been too long since I got him blowing steam, and I need some entertainment.” With quick steps she headed inside.
“That’s something I’ll never get used to,” Amos said when the door shut behind her.
“What’s that?” Sarah asked.
“The friendships between Amish and
Englisch
here. A conversation like that would never happen in Ohio. Isn’t that right, Jathan?”
“
Ja
, but I find it refreshing.” Jathan tugged on his gloves and gazed in the direction of the lake. “Jest this morning Edgar told me he’s lived in these parts his whole life. And yesterday he brought me this —” Jathan pulled out a piece of paper with some type of hand-drawn map. His brow furrowed. “Don’t
really understand the chicken scratch, but I appreciate his help.”
“Did you know Edgar had family who’d homesteaded here on land that’s now underwater?” Eve Peachy interrupted. “When the Libby Dam was built, Lake Koocanusa formed in the valley between the mountains. It’s creepy to think that old buildings are still there under the water. In fact, that’s not the only creepy thing about the lake. Sarah can tell you something even worse. Can’t you, Sarah?”
The guys’ gazes turned to Sarah and an image filled her mind. The log store before her faded and was replaced by the image of a beautiful summer day and a canoe in the middle of the lake. She heard Patty’s laughter, followed by the scream.
Sarah reached for the pole supporting the porch, but her hands found only air. Her knees softened, and the only thing holding her up was a large hand around her arm. Jathan’s hand.
“You all right?” Jathan took a step forward.
As quickly as the image filled her mind it was gone. “Oh,
ja
. I’m sorry.” Sarah grabbed her apron, twisting it in her hand. She’d never been so embarrassed. Yet she also refused to talk about Patty’s death as if it were just another part of local folklore.
The front door opened, and with a trembling hand, Sarah pointed to the middle-aged man emerging from the store.
“Look, there’s our ride. I think it’s time to load up.” She pulled back slightly, and Jathan released his grip. Then, with quickened steps, Sarah turned and hurried to the waiting van.
If only she could run away from the painful memories as easily.
5
T
he thirty-minute drive carried them up the mountain. The road grew narrower as they went along. The ride, bumpier. A locked gate announced they were at the trailhead. An old yellow truck was parked there — other hikers who had beat them to their trek up the hill, no doubt.
With bright faces, the young Amish friends unloaded themselves and their backpacks, and with hardly more than a declaration that he’d be back in six hours, their driver drove away. Sarah kicked at a rock on the road, trying not to watch Amos, who was taking a swig of his water.
Amos returned the water bottle to his pack, tightened the straps of his backpack, and then glanced up, winking at Sarah. “Eager to hike to the peak?”
Sarah tried to ignore the fluttering in her gut brought on by his simple wink. “Eager to be with friends,
ja
, but I’m afraid of how winded I’ll get. Baking loaves of bread and plates of cookies isn’t the same as hiking mountain paths.”
Amos adjusted his wide-brimmed hat. “I’m not worried about the hike, but at that mention of bears …” his voice trailed off. “Wish I would have had enough foresight to pack a gun.”
A small gasp escaped Eve’s lips and her face wrinkled up in concern.
“Don’t worry.” Sarah placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “God is with us. He watches our every step. I prayed this morning that we’ll all be safe. I know my
Dat
was up this morning praying too.”
Eve nodded but didn’t comment. Even though they lived in the same community and attended the same Amish church services, the Peachy family was far more traditional than Sarah’s family. While the Peachys spent most of their time with other Amish families, Sarah’s parents had forged friendships among the Amish and
Englisch
alike. They’d even occasionally attended prayer meetings with their
Englisch
friends, and if Sarah had learned one thing while living in Montana, it was that God’s love extended to all people. One did not need to be in Amish dress to also love God with all of his or her heart.
They started down what looked to be an old logging skid trail for about a quarter of a mile before their path led them into a heavily wooded area.
Jathan walked beside her, his shoulders drooping as he stared at the ground.
“I have some advice fer you,” Sarah dared to say.
He lifted his head and glanced over at her. “You talking to me?” His eyes widened in surprise.
“
Ja
… I’m not talking to him.” She pointed up at the eagle whose wings were spread wide as he flew in a lazy circle over the trail.
“
Ja
, okay then.”
“When you hike, make sure you don’t stare at the ground the whole time.”
“Excuse me?”
“When you walk … I’ve seen it done many times. One
gets so focused on the steps, so worried about stumbling, that he forgets to look up — look around. I know what I’m talking about. Someone told me the very same thing once.”
“Good advice.” Jathan lifted his head. “I didn’t see that eagle until you mentioned him. He was beautiful.”
“
Ja
, and I bet you missed the meadowlark back there too.”
Jathan nodded. “I did. But I know better now …”
They continued on, and the trail soon led them between two rivers. Young Creek and the Yaak River was Sarah’s guess. Every now and again, the trees thinned, and Sarah got an occasional view of breathtaking vistas. Small alpine meadows were also scattered along the path.
At one clearing, Amos lifted his gaze to the mountain peaks, a gasp escaping from his lips.
“Amazing,” he whispered, taking in the view. “Hard to imagine I grew up not knowing places like this existed.” He brushed his bangs back from his forehead. “Nothin’ like this near us in Ohio, is there?” he called to Jathan.
“The Yoders’ barn is high with a tall peak,” Jathan joked.
Laughter spurted from Sarah’s lips, and she was pleasantly surprised. Maybe Amos wasn’t the only one in their group with a good sense of humor.
A bird chattered in a tree overhead and then flew up to the next tree as if following them.
Sarah pointed. “He’s telling all his bird friends to come see these women hiking in dresses and
kapps
.” She chuckled and the others joined in.
Soon the trail was only wide enough to go single file, and they fell into line. Amos took the lead. Hope followed right behind. Eve and Sarah walked behind her, and Jathan brought up the rear.
“Yesterday, when I told Edgar we were heading up here,
he said this trail was originally used by tribes of Salish and Blackfoot Indians,” Jathan said, only loud enough for Sarah to hear. “He said they used this trail to reach the south fork of the Flathead River.”
“Really?” Sarah glanced around, trying to imagine Native Americans walking here, carrying all their gear, their little children following.
She glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye briefly. “So is this what you expected?”
“Of the trail?” Jathan asked.
“Of Montana.”
“Some.”
“Look at that!” Amos pointed ahead. “Wow, amazing!” Sarah looked where he pointed. A black bear stood at the edge of a thicket of trees. They all stopped.
Sarah leaned down, placing her hands on her knees, peering under the tree branches to get a better look. “It’s just a small one. Maybe a yearling.” Seeing it, the fear that had mounted in Sarah’s chest dissipated. “It’s a good thing. If that small bear’s hanging around here that means the larger, more dangerous bears aren’t around.”
Jathan and Eve exchanged glances, and Hope hurried past them to get a closer look. Amos let out a whoop, tossing his hat into the air. “I jest can’t believe it. My first bear.”
Hearing the commotion, the bear lifted its head, turned, and lumbered up a hill. They all watched until it disappeared into the brush.
Amos turned to Sarah. A sly grin filled his face. “You must think I’m pretty silly, don’t you?” He readjusted his wide-brimmed straw hat on his head.
“Not at all. I was the same way when I first came. I remember seeing my first moose. I went out to hang the wash one
morning with
Mem
, and there it was, sniffing our clothesline.” She bit her lip, remembering that Patty had stayed over the night before that event. She and Patty had danced around the porch in excitement until the moose lumbered away.
Amos nodded, and they continued following the rest of the group. When the trail narrowed again, he again took the lead with Sarah right behind him.
She studied the back of Amos’s head, wishing he’d turn around. Her emotions were the same as they’d been that day on Lake Koocanusa. She’d wanted Michael to look at her, pay attention.
Time had passed and the surroundings had changed, but inside, Sarah felt as needy as ever. An ache grew in her chest.
But maybe this day shouldn’t be about trying to catch Amos’s eye. If nothing else, she’d at least build better friendships and find a few special discoveries to tuck inside her memory jar. She didn’t know what — she had enough stones and pinecones already — but there’d be something, she guessed, since sometimes the best treasures were unexpected.
“Are you sure we should be wandering off this far?” eleven-year-old Sarah asked as they walked through the woods behind Patty’s house. It had been a long winter, something Sarah hadn’t been used to in Kentucky. The snow had piled up to the bottom of the windowpanes. Instead of on buggy wheels, most of her Amish neighbors traveled through the wooded wilderness roads in horse-drawn sleighs
.
Yet the snow had melted now, and the ground was only slightly muddy. Sarah looked down at her simple flat-soled shoes. Mud clung to them, but she wasn’t worried. She
could wipe it off with a damp cloth. It was her stockings she worried about. They were splattered with mud. Thankfully, she and Patty wore the same size. More than once, Patty had given Sarah clean stockings to wear home, tossing the dirty ones into her mother’s wash basket. Patty’s mother didn’t seem as worried about dirt as Sarah’s mother was
.
They continued on, stepping over fallen logs, pushing low tree branches out of their way. A hint of chill was in the air and a light wind caused the new, spring leaves to sway
.
“So where are we going again?” Sarah pushed her
kapp
off, allowing the sunlight filtering through the trees to warm her head
.
“Shh, I’m concentrating.”
Sarah paused. “Concentrating? Are we lost?”
Patty turned around in a slow circle. “Not lost. Jest need to find my path.”
“Yer path?”
“Ach,
I came out here the other day. I put markers down. They were leading …” Patty’s voice trailed off. She shielded her eyes with her hand, like an explorer in one of Sarah’s storybooks. “They lead to a hill.”
“A hill?” Sarah didn’t see a hill, but to the right, the ground rose up slightly. She pointed. “Like that?”
Patty clapped her hands, and then raced in the direction of the “hill.” Her
kapp
bounced on her back as she ran. Her dark hair pulled out from her pinned-up bun
.
Sarah had no choice but to follow
.
Her legs pumped as she moved through the forest. The moist air smelled like spring. Overhead, two birds chattered and flew along, as if joining them. Finally, Sarah’s legs carried her up the rise to where Patty stood. Sarah stopped in her tracks. On the other side of the rise was a
large pond. Tall green trees circled it. The water was still and deep green. A turtle skimmed across the surface. Sarah sucked in a breath
.
“You found this place?” She turned to Patty
.
Her friend’s wide smile was the answer
.
“And this isn’t even the best part.” Patty waved a hand. “Come on.”
Sarah followed Patty around to the other side of the pond, and they headed back into woods
.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Sarah asked again. Patty didn’t answer, which meant the answer was
no.
Sarah had known the answer was no even before she asked
.
They slowed their steps as they walked. The trees were thicker here, closer together and taller. Less sun filtered through the trees, and the whole forest took on shades of gray. Sarah reached out and took Patty’s hand. Patty squeezed it and pulled Sarah forward with her
.
Just when Sarah was about to urge Patty to turn around, an image appeared before her. It was an old cabin
.
The log walls were gray from age and moss grew on the roof. One of the windows was broken. There was no front door, but the door hinges were there, almost as if someone picked up the door and hauled it off
.
“Did you go inside?” Sarah paused her steps
.
“I looked inside, but I was waiting.” Patty turned to her and smiled
.
“Waiting?”
“For us to explore together.”
Sarah squared her shoulders. “I’m not going in.”
“
Ja,
we will together.” Patty tugged on her arm. “There are pretty things inside fer yer memory jar.”
Sarah tilted her head at those words. “Like what things?”
“There’s a shelf of things. I saw an old clock. A jar of coins. Books.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed. “Yer making that up.”
Patty jutted out her chin. “Check fer yerself.”
Sarah released Patty’s hand and stepped forward toward the cabin. The closer she got, the more light flowed into the clearing, brightening the area around her. She stopped before the door and looked inside. Sarah’s jaw dropped. She glanced back at Patty and her friend’s eyes glowed with excitement. Patty leaned forward eagerly, and Sarah felt Patty’s eyes on her as she stepped in
.
A layer of dirt, mud, and dead pine needles covered the wooden floor
.
“See, I told you,” Patty called from the doorway
.
Sarah stepped closer to the shelf. There were the things Patty had mentioned and a few other items too. She reached her hand forward, hovering it over the jar of coins, and then paused. No, she wouldn’t touch those. They seemed important, like they would be valuable, and if Sarah brought old coins back, her mother or father would want to know where she’d gotten them. Instead, Sarah reached for a key. It was thin, with a circle on one end and a little knob on the other. Dust covered it. Sarah blew off the dust, watched it float through the air
.
Her heart pounded. She turned around and held up the key for Patty to see
.
“Do you think it’s okay to take this?” Sarah asked
.
Patty nodded. “I don’t think no one’s gonna come lookin’. ‘Specially since there isn’t no door fer that key to go into.”
Sarah grasped it in her hand. “What about you? Are you going to take something?”
“I don’t know.” Patty shrugged. “My memory jar isn’t like yers.” She tapped the side of her temple. “I carry my memories up here.” Then she tapped her chest, right over her heart. “And here.”
“I carry my memories in those places too.” Sarah puckered her lower lip. “Are you saying I don’t?”
Patty sighed, then she reached out and grabbed up a matchbook. “I wasn’t saying that. Just saying we’re different. You like to find things; I like to search fer them.”
“
Ja,
I know, but maybe you’ll change yer mind. Maybe later, when yer old, you’ll hold that matchbook up and remember this time we had together.”
“Yer right.” Patty pointed back out the door. “We should get going before my
mem
starts to worry.”
Sarah nodded, but something else caught her attention. It was a rock. It looked like a large chunk of gravel, but there were all types of glittery things inside. The glittery bits were pieces of white rock mixed into the chunk like huckleberries mixed into ice cream. Sarah put it in the same hand as the key and then followed Patty out. As they walked back, she thought about what Patty had said
.
Am I all about the finding?
she thought
.
She supposed so. Maybe she should be more like Patty, who found just as much happiness in the searching. Then again, the small items Sarah tucked away reminded her of the journey. They reminded her that no matter how far she’d wandered off, she always returned home with another treasure to tuck into her jar
.
