6. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
" D awdi wants to speak to you. Go on now."
Elijah's mother's voice was light, but Elijah could sense the ease in it was fake. She was anxious. He shrank back. "Don' want to."
"Elijah." Her voice was firm. "Go on now, do as I say."
Do as I say. Not doing as Ma or Da said meant trouble. Five-year-old Elijah searched his mother's face for more clues about what was happening, but she only looked annoyed. So maybe whatever Dawdi wanted wasn't so bad. Dragging his feet, Elijah headed for his grandfather.
Dawdi was sitting alone under a tree on the grass. Sunday service had finally ended, and now folks were standing around talking out in the sunshine on the Speckle farm. Every Sunday they went to a different farm, but Elijah had been to this one before, and he longed to go see if there were new piglets out back. Maybe Nathan would go with.
Elijah glanced enviously at Nathan and two other boys playing with a dog. His brother was only one year older, and the other boys were younger, so it wouldn't be too scary to join them. But first, Dawdi.
He was smoking his pipe when Elijah came up, still dragging his feet. He wondered why his grandfather was sitting over here by himself, but it was a hot day, and the tree had cool shade.
"Could you go any slower, Elijah?" Dawdi asked.
"Ja." Elijah thought he could move very slow indeed if he wanted to, and it sounded like fun to try.
"Never mind. Sit ye down."
Dawdi patted a spot of grass next to him and Elijah sat. He got the sense, as he had with his mother, that Dawdi had a specific purpose in mind. But he was better at hiding it than she was. Elijah waited for him to say what he wanted.
Dawdi took a few more drags on his pipe and let the smoke curl out from the corners of his lips. It was kinda fascinating.
"Let's play a game." Dawdi tapped the pipe on the ground to empty out a tiny, burning kernel of tobacco. He rubbed it into the grass with his thumb.
"What kind of game?" Elijah was wary.
"I'm gonna point to people, ja? You look at them. Look at their face, their body. Look inside them. See if you can tell me what ails 'em."
Elijah frowned. He looked at the crowd of people milling around the Speckler house and barn. A lot of people.
"Why?"
"Never mind why. It's a game, Elijah." Dawdi's voice was calm and steady. "Do you understand what I'm asking?"
Elijah wasn't sure he did, but he didn't want to say so.
Dawdi pointed with his pipe. "See the old lady there with the gray dress and white bonnet? She's standing by the lady with a baby in her arms and a little girl about three in purple next to her."
"I see her."
"Gut. Now look at that old lady gut, Elijah. Look her over and see if you can tell what her ailment is. I want you to touch your own body in the place where you think her trouble lies."
Elijah tried. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the old lady. His stomach growled. He was hungry.
"Focus, Elijah!"
Elijah stared at the lady's face.
"Gut. Now see if you can look at the lady with a different eye. Let your thinking mind go fuzzy like. Let your eyes go soft, like you're seein' through her, inside her."
"What eye?"
"An eye in your mind. Relax, stop thinkin', and let it see."
The words made little sense. Yet, somehow, Elijah found that other eye. He let his mind go fuzzy, and the lady go blurry, like he was looking past her. He got a pain, sensed something. He saw a dark spot. He slowly raised his hand and touched his throat.
"Gut. Gut, Elijah. Now another one. See that man talking to the group in the middle of the driveway? That's Amos Fisher. You know Amos. Show me what ails him."
Amos was a tall, imposing figure with black hair and beard. He often spoke at the Sunday meetings. Elijah stared. He thought he saw a red sewing thread hanging from Amos's sleeve.
"Don't look with your eyes, Elijah. Remember. Let your eyes go soft and see with that inside eye."
It took a moment, but Amos went blurry, and Elijah saw a dark spot on Amos's chest. He touched himself there. Grandfather let out a hitched little sound, like a hiss.
"Gut. Gut. Now old Jonas Smucker—he's to the right, close to the rainspout on the barn. He's shorter than the two men he's speaking with. Do you see him?"
"Ja."
"Gut. Look with that other eye and show me what ails him."
It took Elijah a bit longer this time because he was looking at the man's face, and he didn't see anything. But then he thought to look down at the man's body and he saw it—a large black area. He stretched out his chest to make his own body longer and touched a spot above his left hip.
"Sehr gut, Elijah. Sehr gut."
Dawdi wiped his beard and tucked his pipe away. His face was serious and pale. So serious and pale, Elijah was scared. He started to cry.
Dawdi looked at him in surprise. "What's the matter then?"
"What did I do wrong?" Elijah managed to gasp.
"Nothin'. You did nothin' wrong. Stop that cryin'. Ain't a thing to cry about. I said you done gut."
Elijah could tell grandfather meant it. He wiped his face with his sleeve and hiccupped a few shaky breaths.
When he was calm, Dawdi spoke again. "What you can do, Elijah… other people can't do that. It's important that you understand. It's a gift. A gift from God."
Elijah wasn't sure what he meant. It sounded like a good thing. Gifts were good. But Dawdi looked so dire.
"I figured you had it. You're the thirteenth child and the seventh son, just like me. And there are… other signs."
"What other signs?"
"Never you mind that. Now listen gut, Elijah. You're a gut boy, aren't you?"
Elijah blinked at him.
Dawdi ruffled his hair. "Ja, pure as gold. You've a sweet nature, boy. We need to keep that good inside you. Hold fast to it. You must keep right with God. It's important for everyone, but for you—it's the most serious thing in the world."
"Why?"
Dawdi shook his head, frowning, and didn't answer. He thought for a moment. "You're gonna train with me. Train to be a braucher. Do you know what that means?"
Elijah shook his head.
"It means you can help people when they're sick or in pain. Through the power of God. You help people through the power of God."
"I can help people?" Elijah said doubtfully.
"Not yet. But when you're trained up, you sure can." Dawdi studied his face. "That would be a worthwhile thing to do with your life, boy. Ain't so?"
Elijah nodded. He knew his grandfather was respected and also feared. He knew Dawdi helped people, usually late at night. But they weren't supposed to talk about it. It was secret.
Dawdi was a mythic figure—tall with a long white beard that nearly reached his belt and yet still with a thick head of white hair. He lived alone 'cause Elijah's grandmother had gone to heaven before he was born. Dawdi was solemn and strict, but he was never unkind. He was intimidating. He was powerful. Elijah was both scared and proud at the idea of Dawdi training him.
Boy, would Nathan and Ethan and Jonas be jealous!
"Could I live with you?" Elijah asked excitedly.
"Why so? You can walk to my house easy enough."
That was true. Dawdi's house was just the next farm down from theirs.
"Now, this is the most important thing, Elijah. You listening?"
"Ja."
"The one thing you must never, ever forget is that God gave you this gift to do gut for others, always, always under his authority. You do nothing without God. It is never you. God holds the power; it only works through you. So you mustn't let the sin of pride creep in. And, most of all, you must never, ever use this gift for ill. If you ever use it for ill, Elijah, it would be better you had never been born. Do you hear me?"
Dawdi's face was so dark, and his tone so grave, that Elijah wanted to cry again. He held it in. He dug his fingers into the grass and looked down at his lap.
After a moment, Dawdi patted his shoulder. "I know you will never do that, Elijah. Because I will train you myself. Yessir, I will make sure of it."