Anna and Felty are determined to camp with their
granddaughter Mary Anne. They have quite an adventure when
they try to sleep in a hammock.
Mary Anne nearly jumped out of her skin when Mammi’s voice
rang loud and clear through the darkness. “Felty, there’s a
spider on my neck!”
Dawdi’s sleepy, muffled voice was a little harder to hear.
“Huh? What are you saying, Annie?”
Mammi’s voice got louder and more insistent. “Can you get
this spider off my neck?”
“I can’t see it,” Dawdi said.
“Kill it!” Mammi squeaked.
“I can’t kill it. Spiders are very helpful in the garden.”
Dawdi always did have a heart for the animals.
“Ach! It’s crawling down my back. Help me, Felty. Help me.”
Mary Anne heard a thud and a thump and some general
struggling coming from the direction of the hammock. She
and Jethro glanced at each other before Jethro retrieved
his flashlight and they sprinted to the twin trees.
Mary Anne gasped as Jethro shined his light in the
direction of the hammock. Arms and legs stuck out in every
direction, flailing as if trying to find purchase on
anything solid. Somehow Mammi and Dawdi had managed to trap
themselves in their own bed, tangled beyond any knot Mary
Anne could begin to untie.
“Hold on, Mammi and Dawdi,” Mary Anne said. “We’re coming.”
“I’m stuck,” Mammi panted. “We’re both stuck, and I think
I’ve lost one of my feet.”
“Ouch! That’s my beard, Annie,” Dawdi said. His arm hung
from one of the holes in the netting, and he waved it
around as if he was paddling through the water—probably
hoping he could swim to the nearest tree and save both of
them.
“Kill it, Felty!”
Both of Dawdi’s arms stuck out from either side of the
hammock. He wasn’t going to get a chance at that spider
unless he trapped it with his feet.
Sparky the dog, who had been asleep under the hammock, woke
up and started barking as soon as Jethro got within ten
feet. If Mammi’s squealing didn’t wake up the whole camp,
Sparky’s barking would. Sparky was soon joined by Lily’s
dog, Pilot, two tents over, who sounded more like a wolf
than a dog. Mandy and Noah’s Polish hound dog, Chester,
joined the chorus. One—or more likely both—of Lily’s twins
started crying. The sounds of Mammi’s squealing, babies’
crying, and the dogs’ barking echoed up through the trees
and into the night sky.
“Can you stop struggling?” Jethro said, running his hand
along the hammock, trying to find where they’d gone wrong.
“It looks like it twisted completely upside down and around
itself.”
“I did a flip when that spider landed on me,” Mammi said.
Mammi was spry, but surely she couldn’t have flipped the
hammock all the way over on itself. Mary Anne could
understand Mammi’s reaction, though. She didn’t like
spiders either. She wasn’t sure how high she would jump if
one landed on her.
Sarah Beachy emerged from her tent carrying a hissing
lantern. Her hair fell in a long braid down her back, and
she wore a black shawl around her shoulders. “Jethro
Neuenschwander, what are you doing? Haven’t you stirred up
enough trouble for one day?”
“It’s not Jethro’s fault,” Mary Anne said, though why she
bothered to defend him was a mystery. She shone the
flashlight in the direction of the hammock. “Mammi and
Dawdi got tangled all on their own.”
Sarah raised both eyebrows, as if annoyed but not surprised
that her grandparents were stuck in her hammock. “I told
you, Mammi,” she said, talking to the east side of the
hammock at the spot where Mammi’s head was most likely to
be. “People your age should be at home sleeping in a bed.
You’re going to get sciatica or lumbago. Or arthritis.”
Dawdi sounded like he had a blanket lodged between his
teeth. “And probably shingles too.”
“Now, Felty,” Mammi scolded. “We’ve had the shot for
shingles. No need to worry about that.”
Noah came out of his tent quickly buttoning his shirt.
Chester followed, barking as if a herd of cats was sneaking
around, maybe crouched behind the surrounding trees. “What
happened?” Noah asked.
Jethro simultaneously tried to fend off Sparky and figure
out how to free Mammi and Dawdi. “They’re tangled in the
hammock, and I can’t quite see clear how to rescue them.”
“Help us, Jethro,” Mammi called. Her face peeked out from
under one of the blankets and her bare foot stuck out from
the hammock not five inches from Jethro’s face. Mary Anne
shivered involuntarily. Mammi’s toes had to be freezing.
Noah ran his fingers along one side of the hammock while
Mammi and Dawdi struggled mightily inside their cocoon. “I
think we’re going to have to take the whole thing down,” he
said.
Jethro nodded. “Do you want to untie the knot or hold them
up?”
Noah thought about it for a second. “You’re strong. I’ll
untie, and we’ll both lower them to the ground.”
Jethro handed Mary Anne the flashlight. “Anna and Felty,
we’re going to have to take your hammock down. Noah is
going to untie one end, and we’ll lower you to the ground.
Then we can get you out of there.”
“Okay,” Mammi said. “If you’re sure you won’t drop us.”
Jethro patted one of Mammi’s hands, which stuck out from
the hammock. “I won’t let you fall, Anna. You’re my
favorite grandmother-in-law.”
Mary Anne smiled to herself. Jethro had such a comforting
voice and a calming way about him. He could talk an angry
bear into trusting him. His untroubled manner had pulled
her through those first few weeks after the miscarriage. It
was only later that he seemed to quit caring how she felt
and started treating her with indifference instead of
fondness.
“Be careful, Jethro,” Mammi said. “I’ve lost track of that
spider, and he might turn on you next.”
Noah nodded to Jethro and held the rope taut with one hand
while he untied it with his other. Jethro braced his back
and shoulder against the sagging hammock and gripped the
rope with both hands. Noah loosened the knot and held on
tight as Jethro slowly lowered his end of the hammock to
the ground. Mammi and Dawdi rolled out of the hammock like
marbles from a bag.
“Ach du lieva,” Mammi said. “Now I know what a burrito
feels like. I’m never eating one again, even though I have
a very gute recipe.”
Mary Anne had tasted Mammi’s burritos. She could only hope
Mammi would be true to her word and never pull out that
recipe again.