Auls Doft Jaunze siene Tiet hiea em Jaumadohl too Enj jintj, wea hee mau twee-efeftijch. Auls hee äwa sien Läwe soo nohdocht, foll ahm bie, daut hee aulnoch väl äwa de misroble Doag enn sien Läwe too koojeneare jehaut haud, enn uck äwa Gott siene Onjerajchtijchtjeite, enn äwre faulsche Donnasch enne Tjoatj, enn uck äwre heiwtänsche Frulied.
Oba nu daut'et soo schwind boajauf jintj, wäahd hee sijch mett Henj enn Feet enn mett sien Bennaschtet. Ahm foll daut stoawe aulnoch schwoa. Oba de Prädjasch haude jesajcht: "Doft, diene Tiet ess jekohme omm dien latztet Schemedauntje too packe. Du best boold unjawäajess!" Daut haud uck de Dokta jesajcht enn schliesslijch uck de Trajchtmoaka, enn de wisst. Enn siene Fru sowesoo.
Doft Jaunze foll daut schwoa. Nu daut aules vebie wea deed ahm daut leed, daut hee hiea enn doa too väl uttoosatte jehaud haud, daut hee städwies too väl gromsaujd haud, enn daut hee measchtens too rachulijch jewast wea, enn daut hee dit enn jant nijch äwareen jebrocht haud.
Oba nu wear'et too loht. Hee lach oppe Schlopbeintj enne groote Stow enn tjitjcht noh dem Fensta enn noh de Däah...vleijcht wudd sogoa eena opp een schwoatet Pead kohme, ooda vleijcht sogoa irjendwaut mett nuscht buta Knoakess enn een Schädel enn deepe Lajcha em Kopp aunstaut Hut oppem Jesejcht, enn dissa wudd mett eene schoape Sans nennkohme, ohne too puttre. Jiedesmol wann hee jleewd, daut irjendwäa puttad, ooda waut knostad, trock Jaunze sien Kopp unjre Datj, enn vestuak sijch soo goot auls hee noch kunn. Boold wisst hee nijch meea waut Wertjlijchtjeit wea, enn waut hee sijch enbild, waut hee dreemd, enn waut hee sijch utdocht.
Eene Sach wea sijch Jaunze sejcha: hee haud noch tjeene Enjels jeseehne, enn uck tjeen Chooah jeheat. Ahm fong aun too schweete.
Auls eena ahm jeroopt haud, ooda auls dem tjleinen Tjnirps waut jeohnt haud? Wäa weet... waut uck emma, mett eenmol saut bie ahm opp een Beinjstje sien tjlienet Hoawsttjitjel, daut tjliene Doftje. De tjliena Doft wea mau tien Joah oolt, bie wiet de Jinjsta von väle Tjinja.
De oola Jaunze haud oba noch jenuag Ducht enn Daump dem Tjlienen kratjcht too saje, waut hee too doohne haud. "Doft, mien Tjliena, mett mie jeiht'et schwind, väl too schwind too Enj. Enn wann etj nu boold wajch sie, well etj daut du die enne School benemmst, enn daut du die bie Leahra Peetasch de Waute ute Uahre nemmst enn goot oppausst. Uck dooh emma waut Mamma die sajcht, enn loht die nijch egol porre enn stoh zemorjess tiedijch opp. Enn behool daut Goode von mie, enn vejat dee poah schlajchte Doag." Enn donn wea hee stell.
"Oba Pappa, vleijcht woat daut wada mett Junt, enn dann foah wie em Farjoah wada fesche. Etj woa junt uck den jratzten jriepe lohte, joh?"
Doft Jaunze wea aulwada emm Biestalaund jewast, enn ahm haud jedreemt, hee haud aul utjespaunt enn wulll jrods nenngohne, auls de tjliena Doft mett ahm fesche foahre wull.
"Waut?" fruag hee.
"Jie selle dissen Winta noch läwe bliewe, daut wie em Farjoah wada toop fesche gohne tjenne," meend de Tjliena.
"Daut wudd etj seea jearn doohne, oba miene Lomm jeiht unja," säd Jaunze enn wundad sijch, daut hee biem stoawe meist soo auls een Prädja jerät haud.
Doft säd nuscht nijch, oba ahm gruselt bie soohne Räd.
Soo wea daut enn dee Stow, wann eena sien Jeist een Bild von daut Gaunze aufjenohme haud: dee Oola lach oppe Schlopbeintj enn haud de Henj voll mett stoawe, enn de Tjliena saut oppem Beinjstje aun siene Sied; Doftje wea läwendijch, oba ahm foll daut seea schwoa.
Enn waut de Fru enn Mutta aunjintj? Na, see wea mennisch, enn haud daut drock. Enne Tjäatj ooda woa emma: see feahd eene stiewe Fuchtel enn hild Mensche em Schach enn hild uck Rosmack, wann'et senne musst. Uck maunjchmol wann'et nijch senne musst. Oba see wea de Eensje, dee nu aules unjre Kontroll hilt.
Doft Jaunze wea wada emm Biestalaund; hee haud aulwada utjespaunt enn wea nennjegohne, enn haud sijch hanjelajcht. Enn wea meist enjeschlope. Enn donn mett eenmol ritjcht hee waut... dee Jeruch wea ahm bekaunt, enn seea scheen - soo scheen, daut hee noch nijch enschlope wull. Na joh, enschlope, daut joh, oba eascht wull hee doch noch siene Nieschiea een bätje auffoodre.
"Waut ritjcht hiea soo seea scheen?" fruag hee, enn kroop ut sienem Droohm rut. De tjliena Doft vefeahd sijch soo seea, daut hee vom Beinjstje foll. Oba dee Oola, von siene eajne Stemm oppjewatjcht, fruag wada: "Waut rijcht hiea soo scheen?"
"Daut weet etj nijch, Pappa!" säd Doft.
"Goh enne Tjäatj, enn finj mol ut," säd de oola Jaunze lieseltjess.
Doftje jintj. Oba hee kaum fuats tridj enn berejcht: "Mamma backt Tweeback."
"Enn du hast mie nijch mol een Stetjstje ooda een biet Tjarscht mett jebrocht? Goh hol mie eenen!"
Doft jintj. Hee kaum oba fuats wada tridj enn säd: "Mamma sajcht de Tweeback send nijch goot fe junt, dee send too fresch. Jie tjenne dee nijch vedroage, sajcht see."
De oola Jaunze säd soo energisch auls hee noch kunn: "Tweeback säd etj. Goh!"
Doft jintj. Noh een tjlienet Stootstje kaum hee wada tridj enn säd: "Pappa, mie deit daut leed, oba Mamma sajcht `Nä'!"
"Mott eena sijch biem stoawe noch een bät doot oajre? Toom Schinda han! Du jeist fuats oppe Städ enne Tjäatj nenn enn holst eenen Tweeback ooda weens eenen haulwen, oba mett ladje Henj tjemmst du nijch tridj. Enn nu goh. Etj sie hiea noch emma Baus!"
Doft jintj. Ditmol diead daut äwa eene Minut eea hee tridjkaum. Hee bleef een Enjstje von sienem Voda auf stohne auls hee sienen Berejcht aufläd: "Pappa, Mamma sajcht doaraun endat sijch nuscht, äwahaupt nuscht. Dee Tweeback send fe daut Bejrafnis, enn doabie blift'et!"
But now that things were rapidly coming to a close and rather swiftly downhill, he resisted with hands and feet and with inner disposition. He found the business of dying difficult. The ministers had said, "David, it is time for you to pack your last travel bag. You are on your way!" The doctor had also said so and finally even the local bone-setter, and he knew. And his wife in any case.
David Janzen had a hard time of it. Now that everything was past and almost over, he felt a little sorry that he had nattered around here, that he had complained there and that he had been too avaricious most of the time and that he had not brought a few things in his life into order.
Now, however, it was too late. He lay on the sleep bench in the big room and looked at the window and the door...maybe someone on a black horse would ride up after all, or maybe even something with nothing but bones and skull and deep black holes in the head instead of skin on the face would stop in with a sharpened scythe. Every time when he thought he heard a knock or a creak, Janzen pulled in his head a bit and hid under the blanket, as much as he was still able to. Soon he no longer knew what was reality and what was fantasy, what was dreamt and what was imagined.
One thing Janzen knew for sure and that was that he had not seen any angels and also had heard no choirs. He started sweating.
Whether he had called him, or whether the little piker had sensed something? Who knows...whatever, suddenly there sat on the little stool close to the sleep bench his little fall-bred rooster, the late-comer, his youngest, little David. Little David was barely ten years old, by far the youngest of many.
Old Janzen had enough steam left to talk straight to the little fellow and to admonish him as required. "David, my boy, with me things are coming to an end and far too quickly. Once I am gone, I want you to behave yourself in school and in Teacher Peters' class you take the cotton batting out of your ears and listen carefully to him. Also, you do what mother tells you to and don't always wait to be told to work harder and get up in the mornings. Think of the good in me and forget the few off-days." And then he was quiet.
"But papa, maybe things will again turn around with you and then we'll go fishing again in spring. I promise I'll let you catch the biggest one, okay?"
David Janzen had again paid a brief visit to Delirium-Land and he had dreamed he had already unhitched his team and had just wanted to go inside when Little David wanted to go fishing with him.
"What?" he asked.
"You shall stay alive this winter yet so that we can fish again together in spring," suggested the little one.
"That I would like to do, but my boat is sinking," said Janzen and was surprised at himself for having said something almost preacher-like upon dying.
David said nothing but he shuddered at such talk.
That's the way it was in that room, if you had allowed your spirit to take a picture of it all: the old fellow lying on the sleep-bench with his hands full with dying and his little one sitting on a stool at his side, living, but having a hard time of it all.
As for the woman and the mother? Well, she was Mennonite and was busy. In the kitchen or wherever: she wielded a sturdy set of brooms and set items and people straight whenever necessary. And sometimes when it wasn't even necessary. But now she was the only one in that realm who controlled all things in and with her hands.
David Janzen there on the sleep bench was again in Delirium-Land; he had again unhitched his team and had gone in and had laid down. And he had almost fallen asleep. Then suddenly, he smelled something...that scent was familiar and very beautiful - so beautiful that he did not want to fall asleep yet. Na joh, fall asleep he wanted to but first he had to give his curiosity a spoonful of attention.
"What smells so very nice?" he asked, crawling out of his dream.
Little David was so startled that he dropped from his perch. The old one, though, awakened by his own voice, again asked, "What smells so good?"
"That I don't know, Papa!" said David.
"Go to the kitchen and find out," said old Janzen softly.
David went. But he soon returned and reported, "Mother is baking buns."
"And you didn't even bring me along a bit of heel or a piece of crust? Go get me one!"
David went. He came back right away and reported, "Mama says the buns aren't good for you, they are much too fresh. You can't handle them, she says."
Old Janzen said as energetically as he could muster, "Buns, I said. Go!"
David went. After a little while he returned and stated, "Papa, I am sorry but Mama says `No'!"
"Does one have to anger himself to death while dying? Sonofabitch! You go to the kitchen and fetch a bun or only half of one as far as that goes but you will not return empty-handed. Go right now. I am still boss around here!"
David went. This time it took over a minute before he returned. He remained a little distance from his papa while reporting, "Papa, mamma says nothing will change, not even one bit. The buns are for the funeral, and that's that!"