Part 4 (1/2)
Julie tried her best to make her shrug seem blase, but in truth, she, too, was proud of her brilliance. ”A mother does what she can.”
They walked down the stairs to find the rest of the family already a.s.sembled in the living room. There were several additional crew members, one holding a camera to his shoulder, the other what looked like a long stick with a microphone on the end. It was obvious from the way Brian and Angie never looked directly at the camera that they were all too aware of it.
Susan looked up from the baseboard she was dusting. ”At last, our stragglers have arrived. Is everyone ready for a tour?”
There was nothing but silence for the s.p.a.ce of a couple of seconds. Julie looked toward Whitney, wide eyed, and nodded slightly-slightly enough that the cameras wouldn't pick up on it, or so she hoped-and said, ”This is going to be fun. Isn't it?”
Whitney walked over and put her arm around her brother's shoulders. ”Sure is. Don't you think so, Brian?”
”Let go.” He shrugged her arm off of him, glanced toward Julie long enough to understand the message in her eyes, and said, ”I always enjoy learning about new cultures, so I'm sure this will be enjoyable. Don't you think so, Angie?”
”I can't wait.” She spoke the words almost like a sigh . . . but a happy one. Well, after the faked enthusiasm from her own family, it was nice that at least one of the kids seemed truly excited.
”Okay, people, let's load up. Reynolds family, you're in the first Suburban, Charltons, you're in the second.”
”Why can't we ride together?” Whitney twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
Kendra looked at her with that annoyed expression that was becoming too familiar for Julie's liking. ”Because you won't all fit. Now, come on, everyone. We've got a schedule to keep.”
”What do you mean we won't fit?” Brian rubbed his chin. ”Suburbans hold eight people in relative comfort. There are only five of us, plus a driver.”
Kendra didn't bother to turn toward him when she answered. ”Camera crews and equipment take up s.p.a.ce, too-not to mention producers.”
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. Whitney nodded her agreement with her brother.
Angie followed Kendra to the cars. ”About those cameras. The Amish don't allow their pictures taken, isn't that right?”
Kendra checked the fingernails on her left hand. ”Not usually, but they'll make an exception in this case. I'm sure of it.” She turned and climbed in the front Suburban without ever looking back.
The man wore faded jeans and a gray T-s.h.i.+rt, which fit too tightly across his ample midsection. The stubble on his chin was gray, as was most of his hair, and something about the way he looked told Julie he'd lived in the country all of his life. ”Hi, everyone. The name's Joe. I'll be leading your tour today.” He looked at the cameraman. ”Film what you want now, but you can't have those cameras out once we hit the Amish areas. They don't believe in having their picture made.”
”Let me talk to them,” Kendra said. ”I'm sure that once we explain what we're doing-trying to show the average American about their more simple way of life-they will be more than happy to let us do our thing.”
He shook his head. ”No, ma'am. It all comes down to respect, and that's where I draw the line. I don't allow photography or videos of Amish on the tours I'm leading, and that's the end of it.”
Kendra folded her arms and glared at him. He stared back evenly and didn't even blink, as far as Julie could tell. Finally Kendra threw up her hands in exasperation. ”Okay, okay. But the cameras can come with us, right? As long as they're only filming our families during the tour.”
”So long as you put all those things away when I say so.”
”All right.” She walked away and pulled the crew over into a huddle. There were several nods from the group, but Julie couldn't hear what they were saying until the very end. As the huddle was dispersing, Kendra stood whispering to one of the cameramen and Julie caught the word ”naive.” He snorted a response as they walked toward the group.
Joe called for attention and pointed them to what could very well have been a trolley, except that the motor was two large horses. ”Everyone take your seats and we'll get started.” Joe extended his hand toward Kendra, in an offer of a.s.sistance.
She turned her back to him. ”The camera crew goes up front with Joe. Susan and Julie, I want you on the bench just behind them, and then the kids.”
Soon, they were moving down a narrow country road, dotted with farms and pickup trucks and barns. The horseshoes made a pleasant rhythmic sound against the well-worn pavement as they wound slowly along the road. After several minutes, Joe turned around. ”See them white houses up ahead? Those are some of our Amish homes.” He turned to the side then. ”I'd like for you fellas to put your cameras away now.”
The men nodded their compliance and began the work of properly stowing their equipment into hard black cases. As they pa.s.sed the first house, Julie noticed multiple lines of laundry-line after line of dark blue trousers and white s.h.i.+rts, ruffling slightly in the light breeze.
To the right of the house rested a large vegetable garden with a dozen or two neat rows of young plants. Two women stood out in the midst of it, hoes in hand.
”It seems awfully hot to be out gardening in the middle of the day like this. Especially in all that dark clothing.” Julie looked at the women in their black caps, dark long-sleeved dresses, and ap.r.o.ns. The morning's humidity was already pressing on her, and she was wearing a knee-length khaki skirt and a sleeveless cotton top.
”This ain't nothing. It's nice today compared to what it'll be in a month or two. Up in the nineties, air so thick you'd think you could drink it. Them women'll be out there in it every day-gardening, doing laundry. They're always working. It's their way. Kids too. Those kids don't sit around playing video games in air-conditioned comfort. They work.”
”Oh, the poor things.” Whitney leaned toward the other side of the buggy to get a better look. ”That must be so miserable.” She glanced toward Susan and shrunk back a little. ”The heat, I mean, not the video games.”
”That part sounds pretty bad if you ask me,” Brian mumbled, mostly to himself, but he did look up and grin at Julie before turning his gaze outward.
Joe shrugged. ”I reckon it's all they've ever known.”
They rode on, pa.s.sing white house after white house. They all looked very much the same-comforting and homey in a way Julie found appealing.
”We'll make a stop at this next house. They sell mola.s.ses and homemade candy. There's also a woodshop out back I'll show you.”
Julie climbed down, excited to see true Amish wares. They walked inside a little shed. On one wall hung dozens of woven baskets. Julie picked one up, considering where she might use it in her home. She turned it over and saw that it was signed and dated. ”That one was made by Sarah. She's the youngest . . . 'cept for the baby.” Joe looked over her shoulder at the baskets. ”They make some nice pieces here.”
Julie nodded her agreement, then turned. Opposite stood shelves of neatly aligned jars of mola.s.ses with homemade jelly. She turned to Joe. ”Will someone come out so we can pay?”
He pointed toward a simple hinged box on a table at the back of the shed. ”Honor system. You just put your money in there. If someone's around when we pull up, they'll tend the store. If not, then you do it the old-fas.h.i.+oned way.”
”Somehow I don't think that system would work in L.A.,” Kendra said.
Julie laughed, looking out the window of the little store. She noticed one of the cameramen walking around the side of the house. ”What's he do-” Only then did she notice the camera in his hand.
Kendra immediately picked up a basket. ”What do you know about who made this one?”
Joe turned to look at it. ”Oh, that's Hannah's. She's somewhere in the middle, maybe ten. Anytime I pull up and she's around, she comes running out to say hi-I give her a grape soda from time to time.” He grinned. ”She likes those a lot.”
Kendra continued to fire question after question about the family and then, after glancing quickly over her shoulder, said, ”Can we see that woodshop now?”
”Okay.” Joe set the basket back on the shelf. ”Everyone follow me, and watch your step.”
Julie was the last to enter the woodshop, turning in time to see one of the men shooting footage of the little store they'd just been in. She looked around for the other and saw him on the front porch, this time taking still photos.
Julie entered and found the s.p.a.ce too tight to do anything other than stand behind the group. The heat of the day combined with the tightness of the quarters and the thick smell of freshly sawed cedar made the air even heavier. The group was looking at a crib and a king-sized bed frame, both made by the family who lived in the house. Sawdust covered the floor and a good bit of the workbench as well.
”Okay, let's make our way back to the buggy. There are lots more things to see.”
Julie was the first out the door, but she waited for Kendra to exit. ”Kendra, your cameramen were out here shooting, in spite of the fact that they were asked not to.”
”Were they? I didn't notice.” Kendra continued walking, so Julie hurried to catch up. ”I know that you know they were. I saw you distracting Joe. These people have asked that no photographs be made.”
”They won't even know about it. We're being very discreet, and I specifically said to focus on the setting. The shed, the house. Not the people. What's it going to hurt?”