Bumpy Ride Ahead! by Wanda E. Brunstetter

big words annoyed her most of the time, sometimes Mattie actually found herself using those big words after Mark had explained them to her. She didn’t want to admit it to him, but she was learning a whole new vocabulary of words, not only from her brother but also from Grandpa Miller. Mattie thought that someday her twin brother would make a good teacher. Maybe he’d end up teaching at their own schoolhouse here in Walnut Creek instead of working with Dad and Ike in the wood shop, liked he’d talked about sometimes.

    As they pedaled out of the school yard, Mark called over his shoulder, “Sure hope Ginger’s foot is doing better today. Dad wasn’t happy about havin’ to call the vet, and I don’t think anyone in the family liked havin’ to walk to church on Sunday morning ’cause Ginger couldn’t pull the buggy.”
    “I didn’t mind walking,” Mattie said. “It wasn’t raining yesterday, and the nice weather gave me a chance to get a close look at all the colored leaves and pretty fall flowers along the way.” She tapped Mark on the shoulder. “Speaking of flowers … I see some bright yellow ones up ahead. Let’s stop a minute so I can pick some to take home.”
    Mark grunted. “I’m not stoppin’ so you can pick posies.”
    “They’re not posies, and I don’t want them for me. I thought it would be nice to give a bouquet to Mom.”
    “Oh, alright.” Mark stopped pedaling, and so did Mattie.
    After they’d set the bike’s kickstand, Mattie walked into the field where she’d seen the flowers, while Mark looked around for any unusual rocks.
    “Hey, Mark!” Mattie hollered from the center of the meadow, twirling around with her arms outstretched. “Look at all this. It’s like I’m standin’ in an ocean of mustard!”
    Mark looked in the direction of his sister’s voice. Putting his hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun, he realized that Mattie was standing right in the middle of a field full of goldenrod.
    “I’m not sure you should pick that, Mattie,” Mark warned. “They do look pretty, but I think it’s the same weed that makes Perry
niesse.
“
    Mattie returned with a few stems of the amber-colored plant and asked Mark if he was sure it was this wildflower that made their little brother sneeze.
    “Jah, that’s what they call goldenrod. It’s a type of weed, and Perry’s allergic to it,” Mark insisted.
    “Allergic?”
    Mark explained that Perry had an allergy to goldenrod. Having an allergy meant their little brother had an unusual sensitivity to this plant that was otherwise harmless to others. “When Perry’s exposed to the weed, he sneezes,” Mark said once again. “Allergies cause some people to have a strong reaction. Other times, it’s a mild reaction like sneezin’.”
    “Well, what am I gonna do now?” Mattie asked. “I really wanted to bring Mom a pretty bouquet of
blumme
today.”
    Mark looked around, and on the other side of the road, near a small grove of trees in the corner of a pasture, he spotted some flowers.
    “Look over there near those trees,” he said, pointing. “From here, it looks like asters and all sorts of other wildflowers you might wanna check out.”
    Mattie looked in that direction, carefully crossed the road, and bounded toward the trees. When she got up to the flowers, she started picking right away—pink, pale blue, violet, and white—there were all sorts of pretty wildflowers growing in that spot.
    Mark figured Mom would be pleased with the pretty bouquet Mattie would give to her when they got home, and while his sister picked the flowers, Mark found two small rocks that he liked. One was flat with green stripes running through it. The other one was black and shaped like a duck’s head.
    Mark put both of them in his pocket; then he continued to look around. Suddenly, his eyes caught a flash of silver.
    “Hmm … I wonder what that is,” he said, bending down for a closer look. He was surprised to discover that it