Sandra Hill - [Jinx] by Pearl Jinx

Author:Pearl Jinx
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

It was a sinnin’ shame . . .

Jonas was standing outside one of his greenhouses, giving Lizzie directions on watering the azaleas. Lizzie worked for him in the summertime.

His daughter Sarah, at twelve, was in the house doing her cleaning chores, and eight-year-old Fanny was gathering eggs. Noah had begged him to go off with his friends to the farmers’ market in Belleville, which was a busy, exciting place for a nine-year-old boy with its auctions and flea markets and food stands every Wednesday, spring through autumn, but Noah would have plenty of digging of mulch to do here when he returned. He expected his children to work, but, unlike the Amish, and even some of the Mennonites, he allowed his children to go to school beyond eighth grade. And they would continue through high school, if they wanted. Maybe even college. He’d heard through the grapevine that Dat thought it was a sin for him to be so lenient.

“I still don’t see why I can’t go stay with Caleb. Or with Claire and Tante Lulu. They like me.” Lizzie was back to wearing her plain clothing, which he’d insisted on if she was to stay with him, even for only one day, but somehow she’d managed a few English touches, like holes in her ears and pink paint on her fingernails. To say she was unhappy about his rules—no music, no dancing, no running around—would be like saying the Amish were a little bit strict. “That is so uncool,” she’d said this morning, stomping off. Since when did Amish girls stomp off? Lizzie was out of control, and he didn’t know if his parents would ever be able to reel her back in.

For now, Lizzie appeared to be paying attention to his outline for her day’s work, but he was no fool. His sister was just biding her time.

“I know they like ya, but ya gotta take things slow. Dat ain’t gonna let ya take off just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“Slow? How slow can I go? Ach, fer two years I been talkin’ ’bout singin’. The next American Idol auditions are comin’ up in two months. I gotta get ready.”

Jonas groaned. He was sick of hearing about that ridiculous television program where Simon said this and Paula said that. Where she was watching the show, he had no idea, and he didn’t want to know. “Lizziebelle,” he began, “ya can’t give someone castor oil and expect them to drink the whole bottle. Ya gotta give ’em one sip at a time.”

“Oh, so now I’m castor oil? Why dontcha just call me pig poop?”

He had to grin at her choice of words. “I’m willin’ ta intercede with Dat for ya. Ask ’im if ya can stay with me for a bit. But there’s gotta be rules, and for sure and for certain, ya can’t—”

His words were cut off by the roar of an engine and blare of a horn as a dark green Jeep sped by. He and Lizzie stared at the vehicle and then at each other.

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