Dial M for Mennonite
Chapter 1.
Ettie moved slowly about the living room, tidying things more out of habit than necessity. After she was satisfied of a job well done, she petted her small dog Snowy before she settled into her well-loved couch. It gave a familiar squeak, a sound as comforting as an old hymn.
“I feel a bit odd today,” Ettie murmured.
“You are old.” Elsa-May chuckled as she continued her one purl and one plain.
“No. I said I feel odd today not old.”
“Oh, odd. How is that different from any other day?” Elsa-May paused her knitting and looked at Ettie over the top of her knitting spectacles.
Ettie hardly seemed to notice her sister’s words as she was caught up in an emotion she couldn't quite place. Her eyes were clouded as they stared out the window. “Yes. I don’t know why or what it is. I just feel a bit sad.” Ettie’s voice was soft, almost drowned out by the gentle patter of rain starting to tap against the windowpane. “Dismal just like the gray sky.”
“That’s why you need to start knitting. You like needlework so why don’t you do that?”
“I could.”
“Where’s your sampler?” Elsa-May inquired.
“I finished it two years ago. There it is up on the wall.” Ettie nodded toward the framed sampler, protected by glass, and read from it. “'To everything, there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...'”
“Do go on,” said Elsa-May.
“I will if you’ll stop interrupting.” Ettie’s voice filled the room, the familiar verse from Ecclesiastes lending a sort of anchor to her drifting spirit. “'A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted...'” With each line, Ettie felt the heaviness lifting, the timeless words a reminder of life’s ebb and flow, and the promise that no sorrow lasts forever.
Elsa-May couldn’t help herself. “'A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance...”
When Elsa-May finished, Ettie felt lighter. “I do like that one.”
“That was lovely, Ettie. And through all those times we have each other. Now do you feel better?”
“A little.”
Elsa-May made tsk tsk sounds. “You need a hobby. Helping others is always a way to lift one’s mood. Why don’t we go visiting and see if you can help someone with something?”
Ettie looked over at her sister, slightly envious at the way her knitting gave her a purpose. “Who would I help, and what would I help them with?”
“I don’t know. It was just a suggestion. I don’t have all the answers under the sun. I’m not a soothsayer.”
Ettie looked over at her sister. “Don’t you ever feel a bit sad?”
“No because I’m too busy knitting for all my charities to worry about how I’m feeling. Whenever my mind wanders, I think about all the people who’ll benefit from these items I’m knitting. You’re always looking out the window so why don’t you take up bird watching?”
“I already do watch the birds whenever I see them.”
“I know, but I mean do it as a serious hobby. Look at the different types of birds that visit us and at what time of day and all that.”
Ettie nodded. “Hmm. I like the sound of that, but I don’t know if I’d like trekking through the woods trying to find where they live. I could do it from the comfort of my house, like you said.” Ettie slumped onto the couch and Kelly, the kitty, jumped up on Ettie’s lap. “I think you’ve struck on a good idea, Elsa-May—bird watching. I need to get out of this mood, but at the same time, I don’t feel like doing it. It’s what they call a vicious cycle.”
“Don’t you think you’re too old to ride a bicycle?”
Ettie frowned at her sister. “I said cycle, not bicycle. Ah, don’t worry. The only thing about bird watching is who is it going to help? I like it that your knitting helps people.”
Elsa-May kept knitting, clicking her knitting needles together. “I know what you mean, but the point is, you’ll have to leave the house if you want to help someone. No one is just going to knock on our door. Any fool would know that.”
The knock on the door was a soft, almost apologetic intrusion, yet it was enough to shock the sisters.
Ettie couldn't help the mischievous spark that ignited in her eyes. “No one is going to knock, eh? The door isn’t knocking by itself.”
“Well, see who it is, Ettie. Don’t just sit there.”
“Why is it always me who has to answer the door?” Ettie grunted as she got to her feet.
“Because people always tend to arrive when I’m in the middle of a row of knitting. Alright, I’ve just finished my row. We’ll go together.” Elsa-May set her knitting down and they both moved toward the door, curiosity helping them move faster than normal.
When the door opened, they saw an Englisher. A lone figure, his hat, worn by the elements, shadowed a face marked with fatigue, and his brown overcoat, despite its wear, clung to him like a protective layer.
“Good morning.” He greeted them with a nod. “I'm Gideon Friesen I hope I'm not intruding, but I'm in need of help.”
“Help?” Elsa-May repeated.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ettie saw Elsa-May staring at her.
The man continued, “I heard about you both, and I'm here to ask for your advice if you don’t mind. I would be ever so grateful if you would take a moment to hear what I’ve got to say.”
Ettie gave him a nod. “Hello, nice to meet you. I’m—”
Elsa-May cut her sister off. “Who told you about us?”
“A young lady who came into my Antique store. I believe her name was Angela. She said people in her community go to you when they have things that just don’t add up. She was sure you wouldn’t mind helping.”
Ettie and Elsa-May looked at each other. “We don’t know anyone by the name of Angela. One of my nieces is called Angela but she lives hundreds of miles away.”
“The young lady told me she’s married to one of your grandsons.” He looked from one of the sisters to the other.
“Ah,” Elsa-May said, “That would be Ava.”
“Yes, that’s right. She has two young boys. She’s a regular customer and she bought a copper jug last time she was there. Ah, copper, now I could delve into some stories about all the copper items I’ve had over the years. And how much they’ve gone up in value. If only I’d kept them all.”
Elsa-May moved aside. “Please, come in, Mr. Friesen. We'll help if we can.”
After they introduced themselves, they ushered him into the living room.
Once settled on the couch, he removed his hat, setting it aside as he ran a hand through his silver hair. He then looked at them. “I was a Mennonite until a few years ago. Well, many decades ago.”
“That’s interesting. And why did you leave?” Ettie asked hoping she wasn’t being too intrusive.
“I fell in love. We only lasted a few years, sadly.”
“We’re sorry to hear that, Mr. Friesen.”
“Please call me Don. Everyone calls me Don. I didn’t go back to my community because… it’s complicated. But that’s nothing to do with why I’m here today.”
“Would you like a cup of hot tea, Don?” Ettie asked.
“No thank you. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“We’re happy to help, aren’t we, Elsa-May?”
“It depends on what it is. Can you tell us a little more?”
Snowy and Kelly observed the unfolding scene from a safe distance.
“I’m not sure where to start,” Don said rubbing his forehead.
Ettie leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Why not start at the beginning? It’s always the best place.”
Don took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for the right words. “It's a rather peculiar incident that occurred yesterday morning at the bakery next door to my antique store.”
Ettie’s eyes widened, her interest fully captured. “We’re listening.”
Don cleared his throat. “Next door to my antique shop, is a bakery. Now the baker, a lovely woman, Adele Henderson is her name, discovered a small, intricately crafted key in the middle of a loaf of bread.”
Ettie raised an eyebrow, her mind already buzzing with possibilities. “A key, you say? That's certainly an intriguing discovery. Any idea what it might unlock?”
Don shook his head. “None at all, I'm afraid. The key doesn't resemble any I've seen before, and its purpose remains a mystery.”
Ettie leaned back as Elsa-May took over the conversation. “You want us to find out what the key unlocks? It could be anything and it could be anywhere. I’m sorry you wasted your time, but I don’t see how we’ll be able to help at all.”
Don nodded in agreement, the lines in his face deepening with his frown. “I understand the absurdity of the task, ladies. But you see, there's more to the story. Mrs. Henderson believes the key wasn't a mistake or a random occurrence. She's convinced it was deliberately placed in her bread dough. What made up her mind about that was the note she found in her kitchen that goes along with it.”
Ettie couldn't contain her curiosity. “A note in the bread. Fascinating.”
“Close to the bread maybe. I’m not totally certain where the note was found.”
“What did the note say?” Elsa-May asked.
“It was a riddle of sorts,” Don explained, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his coat pocket. He unfolded it carefully, as though it were a fragile relic from another time. “It says, 'In the heart where warmth does stay, the hidden passage leads the way. Seek the place where shadows dance, a legacy left to chance.'”
The sisters exchanged glances, the silent communication of years gone by passing between them. It was clear they were both intrigued and slightly skeptical.
“That does sound like a riddle,” Elsa-May murmured.
Ettie stared at the paper. “Is that the actual paper that was found?”
“That’s the one.”
It had faint blue lines as though it had been pulled from a notebook. “It's been a while since we've encountered a good mystery, or any kind of mystery hasn't it, Elsa-May? I say we help Mr. Friesen with this.”
Elsa-May sighed. “I don’t think so, Ettie. I’m sorry Don, but it seems like a harmless prank.”
Ettie frowned at Elsa-May. “Weren’t you just saying that I—”
“Yes, you need something to do with your time, Ettie, and we both agreed that you’d take up bird watching.”
Don grinned. “A splendid pastime. In my store I have an excellent pair of binoculars that will do that trick just nicely.”
“Oh good. I’d love to take a look at them.” Ettie then looked over at Elsa-May. “We can help Don and I can start bird watching. What do you say, Elsa-May?”
Ettie and Don stared at Elsa-May, waiting for her to say yes.
“Very well, but it’s one of those mysteries that might never be solved. Where would we even start?”
Don looked between the two sisters, obviously relieved by their willingness to investigate. “I was hoping you might provide some guidance on that. You're both well-known for your keen insights and problem-solving skills, that is, according to my customer. The riddle must be the key to deciphering the key's purpose. I have always had an interest in keys, but this one is so different from any I’ve seen before.”
Ettie's mind raced. “The heart where warmth does stay... that could symbolize a number of things. A hearth in a home, perhaps? Or somewhere central to community life?”
“And the part about shadows dancing,” Elsa-May added thoughtfully, “That sounds like it might refer to someplace with flickering lights, or where people gather for events, maybe?”
They pondered in silence for a moment, the only sound was Snowy making low growling noises at their guest.
“Perhaps we should pay a visit to this bakery,” Ettie suggested. “Seeing the place where the key was found might provide some inspiration. And we can speak with Mrs. Henderson directly to understand how she found the key and where the note was found.”
Elsa-May nodded in agreement. “A practical first step. But we must also consider the safety implications. If this key was deliberately placed, we don't know the intentions behind it. Caution will be essential. It might have been a prank, but maybe not a harmless prank.”
Don placed his hat back on. “I could drive you both if you are ready to leave now. Mrs. Henderson is a kind-hearted woman, and I know she'd appreciate any help in finding out what this is about. I can tell you she’s unsettled by it all.”
“Well, Mr. Friesen, it seems we have ourselves a mystery to solve. Elsa-May, what do you say?”
“Agreed, Ettie. Let us follow this trail of breadcrumbs and see where it leads.” Elsa-May chuckled over her breadcrumbs comment seeing they were about to visit a bakery, but Ettie wasn’t going to be outdone.
“It’ll save us from loafing about. We’ll have to rise to the occasion because this mystery doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a piece of cake.” Ettie grinned at her sister and all Elsa-May did was shake her head.
Mr. Friesen didn’t seem to notice. He put his hat back on and got to his feet. “Let’s go, shall we?”
