Free Growing Up in Lancaster County by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page A

“You
are
a little bensel.”
    “I am not a silly child, and you’d better stop calling me that!”
    “I will, when you stop acting like one.” Jacob walked faster. “See you at school!”
    When Rachel arrived at the schoolhouse, the bell was already ringing. She hurried inside and put her lunch pail on the shelf.
    “I see you got new glasses,” Orlie said. “They sure make you look different.”
    “Different in a good way?” she asked hopefully.
    Orlie shrugged and grinned. “I think they make you look like you’ve got four eyes.” He looked at Audra’s brother, Brian, and said, “Don’t you think Rachel looks like she has four eyes?”
    Brian stared at Rachel a few seconds; then he looked back at Orlie. “I think her glasses look like
schlang aage
[snake eyes].”
    Rachel clenched her fingers. “Have you two been talking to Jacob?”
    Orlie shook his head. “Huh-uh.”
    Audra put her lunch pail on the shelf beside Rachel’s. “Don’t listen to Orlie and Brian. They just like to tease.” She patted Rachel’s arm. “I think your glasses are nice. They make you look grown up and real
schmaert
[smart].”
    “Do you really think they make me look smart?”
    Audra nodded. “Sure do.”
    Brian nudged Audra’s arm. “That’s
lecherich
[ridiculous]. Glasses don’t make a person look smart. They just tell the world you can’t see.”
    “I’m sure Rachel can see real well now that she’s got glasses,” Audra said. “Isn’t that true, Rachel?”
    Rachel nodded. She was glad Audra had stuck up for her, but after the comments Brian, Orlie, and Jacob had made, she didn’t feel smart or grown up. She felt ugly in her glasses. Maybe she shouldn’t wear them at school anymore. Maybe she should only wear them at home.
    After lunch, Rachel went outside for recess. She spotted Jacob and some other boys sitting on one end of the fence. Orlie was there, too, only he stood on the other end of the fence—his left foot on one railing—his right foot on the railing above.
    “
Bass uff as du net fallscht
[Take care you don’t fall],” Rachel told him.
    He grinned. “Don’t worry; I won’t.”
    “I thought I wouldn’t fall from the tree when I tried to rescue Cuddles,” she said, “but remember what happened?”
    He nodded. “You broke your arm.”
    “That’s right, and if you fall, you might break something, too.”
    “Ah, you worry too much. I know what I’m doing.” Orlie wrinkled his freckled nose. “And just because you’re wearing glasses that make you look scholarly doesn’t mean you’re smarter than me.”
    Rachel shook her head—one quick shake, and then another. “I don’t think I’m smarter; I’m just saying you could get hurt if you’re not careful.”
    His lips twitched with a smile, and he puffed out his chest. “Want to see me stand on one leg?”
    “No.”
    “Well, here I go!” Orlie pulled his left leg up so he stood with both legs on the top railing. Then, holding his arms straight out to keep his balance, he lifted his right leg.
    Rachel’s heart thumped in her chest as Orlie wobbled. She glanced over to see if Jacob saw what Orlie had done, but he was talking to Brian and didn’t seem to notice.
    “Orlie, please come down from there,” she pleaded.
    “Aw, quit worrying; I’m doin’ fine.” He switched to the other leg, and—
whoosh
!—tumbled right to the ground.
    Rachel’s heart pounded. She rushed forward and dropped beside Orlie. “Are you okay?”
    Orlie stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
    The boys who’d been sitting on the fence hopped down and crowded around Orlie.
    “Are you hurt?”
    “Did you break anything?”
    “Should we get the teacher?”
    Everyone spoke at once.
    Orlie grunted and pulled himself to a sitting position. “I—I’m okay. Just had the wind knocked out of me.”
    Rachel clucked her tongue, the way Mom often did, and shook her finger at Orlie. “I told you standing on the fence was