My Scandalous Mennonite Diary #3

-Abe

It is five-thirty.

I am sitting at my usual place in the Memory Lane Cafe.

It is a typical small-town restaurant. It consists of one room full of older-looking chairs and tables. In one corner, a cash register sits on a bar of sorts.

Of course, no alcohol is served here, only healthy foods such as burgers, fries, and the sugary drinks that go with them.

The walls are covered in brown paneling. Faded plastic flowers have been scattered throughout the restaurant in a vain attempt to add color.

The most important thing is that the coffee pot is two steps away, sitting on the bar.

I can’t say that I enjoy the blue haze of cigarette smoke writhing around me, but that is part of the atmosphere. To be honest, I tried smoking once. However, sticking burning leaves into my mouth and inhaling the smoke doesn’t quite seem sensible, so I quit after the first hacking attempt.

Harvey Martins and Devon Kroeker sit with me.

Harvey is heavyset with a head full of messy hair and a red plaid shirt over his blue jeans. He has a plain face with a hint of freckles that make him look more mischievous than he is.

Devon always wears a black cowboy hat, black jeans, a white shirt, and black cowboy boots. He is especially fond of the large silver belt buckle he wears on his pants. The buckle is a bit worldly for some in our church, but Devon has a bit of a rebellious streak running through his blood, so he wears it anyway. He looks like the perfect cowboy, tall, dark-haired, and handsome.

Speaking of cowboys, Gerald, a skinny man in torn jeans and a ragged hat, swaggers into the restaurant.

“Big night tonight heh?” Devon winks and smiles.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Gerald smiles as he pulls out his wallet and begins to count out some cash.

“Of course not, of course not. But if that’s the way you want to be, be that way. Just remember us lonely bachelors when you pop the big question tonight.”

“All I want to do tonight is start courtin, don’t get ahead of yourselves.” Gerald drops the cash to the counter to pay for the gas being pumped into his truck as he speaks. “Besides, you guys are only bachelors only because you want to be! Don’t try to pretend you can’t find anyone. For instance, Mary . . .”

“This is a small village if you haven’t noticed! And Mary, well she is what she is . . .”

“As if Mary will ever go out with one of us,” Harvey snorts, suppressing a laugh.

Devon turns to me.“What’s that smirk? Do you think that you can do better? I dare you to try. Nobody can get a date with her. Even big Harvey here rustled up the courage and made a pass once or twice. Ain’t that right Harv?”

Harvey straightened in his seat. “I went over there one evening…” Harvey’s freckled face turns red.” Her father was the only one who would talk to me. We talked about the crops, the weather, and anything else but what I wanted! Every time I tried to steer the conversation boat toward Mary, he sank it!

Nobody can get a date with her. I dare you or anybody to prove me wrong.”

“Ooh. A challenge.” Gerald laughs as he nudges me. “So, Abe what do you think?”

I feel myself blushing. “I don’t know, we’ll have to see how long Zingshtun goes…”

“If they have it all.”

“What do you mean?” I say, confused over this remark.

“Oh, I heard that some people don’t like Alvin and are trying to get him shut down.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens,” I say.

Devon smirks like a cat that has lapped up a bowl of milk. “If you need some tips, I can help you out. They don’t call me the love cowboy for nothin!”

“I’ll let you boys sort that out.” Gerald takes the receipt he is handed by the plain-looking waitress. “I better get moving.” Gerald pauses in the doorway, staring at Abe with a knowing grin. “Good luck, and don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“I never said I’d do anything!” I protest.

“Of course not, but I know you…you like a good challenge.” Devon cackles in unison with his buddy Harvey.

I’ve had enough of that. I leave the table of teasing and follow Gerald into the great outdoors.

The air is heavy with the air of an impending storm.

I’ll need to walk quickly if I want to make it home without getting drenched.

Gerald must be excited about the evening. I can hear the rumble of Gerald’s fuel truck fading into the distance. Judging by the sound of the engine Gerald is driving with the pedal to the metal like he always does.

How could someone as picky as Susan have agreed to have supper with Gerald?

Her family is very conservative, even more than what is expected by the church. Susan is not different. If anyone falls out of line, she is the first one to speak about it.

What would she think of Gerald and all his worldly habits?

To each his own I suppose. I wouldn’t be called a romantic by any stretch of the imagination.

I work in a grocery store, tossing flour bags, unloading freight, and whatever menial tasks that I am assigned. I can’t complain. There’s no shame in honest work.

I still remember a coworker who refused to unload a pallet of heavy flour bags. He was the first to go when layoff time came. I can’t afford that.

Still, maybe those guys had a point. I do like a good challenge. Maybe I should try asking Mary to court me. Imagine their faces if she would say yes…

An ancient blue Yamaha street bike sputters around the corner.

By the way that the motorcycle is weaving, it looks like Jason Janzen has been hitting the schnapps again.

“Oh! He’ll grow out of it,” is what most people say about that.

The motorcycle whine fades into the distance. Hopefully, he doesn’t try to drive onto the railroad tracks again.

Thank God I had been passing by that night or knows what would have happened to him.

“Oh, that’s Jason for ya! Just sowing his wild oats, he’ll snap out of it before too long. No harm in having a little fun before you settle down. At least he’s in Church every Sunday.”

I hope the people who say those things are right.

It occurs to me that if I go early. I can stop by Mary’s house before I go to Zingshtun. It isn’t that far away from the Church.

Fear tickles me.

What if she says no?

What will the guys say then?

I enter a gravel-covered driveway. Ahead I can see my white and red, two-story home. Or to be precise, my parent’s white and red two-story home.

I live together with my three brothers in an upstairs room. It’s cramped. But that’s just the way that it has to be. Money is short. Sacrifices have to be made.

Two hedges of dormant lilacs line the driveway, they look beautiful when they burst into purple flowers. I hate their headache-inducing perfume. That will be one blessing of moving away from home, I can be free from their stench.

Unless, of course, Mary likes lilacs.

I smile to myself as I continue down the gravel driveway.

I would allow lilacs for Mary; it would be a sacrifice, but . . .

I turn the silver doorknob, pull open the door, and then walk into the porch. A bitter almond smell of manure rose from the rubber chore boots lining the wall.

Welcome home to reality.

There is a tremendous crash of thunder followed by the soft dribbling sounds of rain landing on the roof.

I made home it just in time.

Why not go and visit Mary? It couldn’t hurt.

I glance at the clock on the wall. The time is four minutes to six. I’ll need to hurry if I plan to stop by and see her before Zingshtun.

Nervousness tickles me again.

Will she say yes, or will she treat me the same as all the others?