Part 7 (2/2)

”Suit yourself.” Even Mama would have lost patience with this woman.

Well, have they eaten or not?” She was tapping away impatiently with a brown brogan. A flamenco dancer she was not.

”I don't divulge my guests' activities. Even yours.”

”What's that supposed to mean?”

I didn't know. But now I wished I did. For a brief moment Jeanette looked like the cat who had been caught with her paw in a fishbowl.

”Orange or tomato juice?” I asked as pleasantly as I could.

Just then Freni entered with a stack of buckwheat pancakes and a jug of warm, homemade maple syrup. Just before she sat down, I could see Jeanette's brown, burlap-covered chest inhale the aroma that was wafting from the plate.

”Any more for me?” I turned to see Billy Dee Grizzle standing in the doorway. The dark circles under his eyes made him look older than I had remembered. Much too old for Susannah, for sure. And there seemed to be a bruise or a scratch on his right cheekbone that I hadn't noticed before. Perhaps he had whacked himself with the shovel while digging for night crawlers. That sort of thing happens, you know. Myrna Stoltzfus, who was my best friend in grammar school, once knocked herself out with her own lunch pail.

”There's plenty more,” I said. ”Do you want coffee?”

”Caffeine has been shown to cause cancer in laboratory rats,” said Jeanette, her mouth already full of pancake.

Billy laughed. ”So has too much s.e.x.”

”What?”

Billy ignored her and sat down. ”I'd love some coffee, Miss Yoder.”

”Magdalena,” I mouthed. As I was pouring his coffee, Joel and Linda came into the room. ”Have they left yet?” they both asked at once.

”That's what I want to know,” said Jeanette. Her mouth was again full of pancake, and little pieces sprayed out when she talked.

Well, come on, guys, we gotta find out,” exhorted Linda. She, for one, seemed pretty chipper. It was certainly not obvious that she had recently suffered a near death experience at the hands of something with eight feet.

”Relax, folks,” drawled Billy Dee. ”Garrett's Buick pulled out of here about twenty minutes ago. They're long gone.”

Jeanette brayed and sprayed something unprintable, and then shoved in another bite.

Well, we can still catch up with them, can't we?” asked Joel. Judiciously, he chose to sit as far as he could from Jeanette. Linda sat down beside Billy.

”It's worth a try,” said Jeanette, showing me more pancake than I cared to see. ”Even a forest filled with hunters is bound to be safer than this dump. I say we hit the road, and p.r.o.nto.”

”A state forest is an awfully big place,” said Linda. I examined her face for signs of Stoltzfus blood.

”It doesn't matter a hill of beans,” explained Billy Dee patiently. 'We want to catch them coming out with their buck, not just tramping around in some dang woods. We want a picture the reporters can sink their teeth into.”

I swallowed hard. ”Reporters?”

”At the woods,” Billy rea.s.sured me, ”when they come back to the car. Not here, Miss Yoder.”

”But what about their poor deer?” Linda cried.

Billy patted her shoulder.

”Don't worry,” I hastened to rea.s.sure her, ”hundreds of other deer will be killed as well.” Come to think of it, great-grandmother Kauffman was originally a Stoltzfus.

Even Linda surprised me then, by bursting into tears and burying her head in Billy's brawny shoulder.

Jeanette glared, but I couldn't tell if it was at me or at Billy, who was sitting opposite me. Then her mouth flew open and the remnants of at least half of a buckwheat pancake came spewing out.

”Gross,” said Billy Dee, who is otherwise so polite. ”Eggs!” she rasped.

”What?” I demanded. I was in no mood for false accusations.

”There's an eggsh.e.l.l in the pancakes. So there's got to be eggs!”

”Prove it.”

Jeanette poked around in the detritus on her plate and eventually came up with a little white speck that shouldn't have been worth mentioning. ”There!”

”Freni!”

Freni materialized almost immediately, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n. ”Yes?”

”Freni, did you put eggs in those pancakes?”

Freni looked me straight in the eye. ”Didn't the children of Israel put straw in their bricks?”

”What?”

”She's nuts,” Jeanette had the nerve to say.

”Freni, you weren't making bricks, you were making pancakes. Did you use eggs?”

Freni crossed her arms over her ample, ap.r.o.n-covered bosom and stamped her right foot three times. Except for the arm-crossing, I've seen bulls act just like that before they charge.

”Well, Freni?”

”You cook for the crazy English, Magdalena. I quit!”

”Please, G.o.d,” I prayed, ”let her stay quit until this crowd of English has crossed the Red Sea.” Unfortunately G.o.d does not always ignore our prayers. I would much rather have had to deal with a continuance of complaints than with a corpse clutching Mama's dresden plate quilt.

10.

FRENI HOSTETLER'S BUCKWHEAT PANCAKE RECIPE cup all-purpose flour cup buckwheat flour 3 tablespoons sugar

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