Home to Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  Rose Anna did as she asked, trying to puzzle things out. “I doubt they’ll walk back in.” She bit her lip.

  “You haven’t talked to him about it?”

  She shook her head. “He had to work at the horse farm this morning. Then he was supposed to come here to help.” She wondered if he’d come now.

  They sat at the table cutting up vegetables for the jars of chowchow they’d be canning that day.

  She cut the cauliflower, peeled and sliced the carrots, snapped green beans, and added wax beans and kidney beans to two huge bowls. Finally, she could no longer put off cutting up the onions. It always seemed to her that her eyes teared more than anyone else’s when she performed such a chore.

  “I can do those,” Lavina offered.

  “Nee, it’s allrecht.” Doggedly she cut them and felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not much more to do . . .

  Waneta and Amos came in.

  “You’re back already!” Lavina exclaimed.

  “It got a little too warm for Amos,” Waneta said.

  He walked over to the sink for a glass of water and drank it thirstily.

  Not two minutes later John walked in. He took one look at the tears streaming down Rose Anna’s face and his expression turned thunderous. He glared at his dat. “Did you say something to upset Rose Anna?” he demanded.

  “I’m not the one who throws around harsh words,” Amos snapped. “You owe your mudder an apology.”

  Rose Anna stood so abruptly her chair fell back landing on the floor with a loud crack. “John! Your dat didn’t say anything bad to me! Can’t you see what I’m doing?”

  She held out the onion in one hand, the knife in the other. She set them down on the cutting board, bent to pick up the chair, and sat again. Grabbing a paper napkin from the basket on the table, she wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

  Anger faded from his face, replaced by embarrassment.

  “It’s always my fault, isn’t it?” Amos said.

  John nodded. “It was most of the time. My bruders and I wouldn’t have left home if things had been different.”

  “We don’t talk about family matters in front of others!”

  “Lavina and Rose Anna are family.”

  Amos muttered as he stalked to the dawdi haus. He turned, his hand on the doorknob, and looked back at his fraa. “Are you coming?”

  Waneta stood there, still as a statue, her fingers pressed against her lips. The older woman’s face was drained of color, her eyes haunted as she stared at her sohn.

  Amos went into the dawdi haus and slammed the door.

  Rose Anna’s gaze flew to John. She jerked her head at his mudder, sending a silent message, and he looked at her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to your dat more,” Waneta began haltingly as she stared at John. “You don’t know how I’ve wished I’d done more. But I can’t change that now. Can you forgive me?”

  He sighed, nodded, then he was closing the distance between them and taking her into his arms. “Ya. Don’t cry, Mamm. Don’t cry.”

  Rose Anna felt tears slipping down her cheeks, tears that didn’t come from cutting onions. She looked at the dawdi haus door.

  Lavina reached across the table and touched Rose Anna’s hand. “It’ll be allrecht. It’ll just take time.”

  She knew Amos and his two older sohns had healed their differences. But how long would it take for Amos and John?

  16

  Rose Anna took a walk after supper.

  A long walk. She’d always found it helped when she was restless or upset. Now she found herself upset and not sure what to do about it.

  Thank goodness John had to stop by the horse farm after he helped at David and Lavina’s today. It meant she didn’t have to talk to him until she sorted out how she felt about things.

  She just didn’t understand this . . . tension in John’s family. There had been quarrels in her family. You couldn’t have three dochders without having the occasional fuss. Especially when the oldest two considered it their duty to tease the youngest. Their mudder had refereed as best as she could, but Lavina and Mary Elizabeth weren’t stupid. They’d done some of their best work when their mudder was out of hearing range. It hadn’t been that long ago that Mamm had said Rose Anna had to stand up and speak up more for herself. Then maybe the teasing would stop.

  Rose Anna knew her mudder was a wise woman, but she didn’t think anything was going to stop her schweschders from teasing.

  And her parents had occasionally disagreed, but they had never behaved like John’s parents in front of their kinner.

  But it had been more than tension that had been a problem in the Stoltzfus haus. All three of the bruders had confided in the Zook schweschders how their dat had berated them constantly. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they worked on the farm, nothing was ever gut enough for Amos.

  She knew things had gotten pretty bad for David, then his bruders, to leave their home, their community, their church, and live in town.

  But she hadn’t really understood that John blamed his mudder, not just his dat, for what had led to their leaving.

  What would it feel like to think that both your parents had failed you?

  And what if Waneta had not only failed to stop Amos from verbally abusing their sohns—but had failed to stop him from hitting them?

  She stopped dead in her tracks. John had never said his dat hit him. But would he? Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that she was just a few blocks from Sam and Mary Elizabeth’s farm. She walked on to their back door and went inside.

  Mary Elizabeth stood at the kitchen sink doing dishes. “Rose Anna! What a surprise!”

  “Where’s Sam?”

  “Out in the barn. Why?”

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “Schur. Want something to drink? Iced tea?”

  Distracted, she nodded. “I’ll get it. You want some, too?”

  “Ya, danki.” She dried the last dish and sat at the table. “It’s been a long day. Waneta and I canned all those.” She waved at a couple dozen jars sitting on a kitchen counter, then took a sip of tea. “So what do you want to ask me?”

  Rose Anna glanced at the door, then at Mary Elizabeth. “Has Sam ever said if Amos hit him or his bruders?”

  Mary Elizabeth stared at her, shocked. “Nee. Did John say he had?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just that he and Waneta had an argument last night and when she walked into Lavina’s today, he said something . . .” she trailed off, lifted her hands, let them drop into her lap. “Apparently he said she should have spoken up to Amos, and she apologized to him today in front of Lavina and me. He was so upset—she was so upset. It made me wonder if more than yelling—more than verbal abuse—had gone on.”

  “Oh, my,” was all Mary Elizabeth could manage. “Are you going to ask John?”

  Rose Anna found herself staring at the glass of tea in front of her. “I have to, don’t I? First chance I get.” She took a sip to ease her dry throat. “He went from Sam and Lavina’s haus to his job at the horse farm, so I couldn’t today.”

  They heard feet stomping on the back porch, then Sam walked through the door.

  “Well gut-n-owed. I didn’t know you were here,” he told Rose Anna.

  “Sam, Rose Anna has something she’d like to ask you,” Mary Elizabeth said. She rose and fixed him a glass of iced tea.

  “Allrecht.” He sat at the table, looking wary. “What is it, Rose Anna?”

  “Sam, did your dat ever hit you or your bruders?”

  He didn’t react with shock as his fraa had. Instead, he sighed heavily. “Did John tell you that?”

  “Nee.” She related what had happened earlier.

  “Mamm never spoke up against Daed. He never hit me, but I can’t speak for John. Or David for that matter.”

  “But wouldn’t they have told you?”

  “I’d hope so. But I can’t be schur of it. Bruders don’t tell each othe
r everything. Do schweschders?”

  Rose Anna looked at Mary Elizabeth. “Ya,” she said. Then, as she looked at her and thought about it, she shook her head. “Nee, maybe not. But something so important. Wouldn’t John have come to you to help him?”

  Sam shook his head. “John always wanted to stand on his own two feet. He didn’t like being the boppli of the family.”

  They schur had that in common, thought Rose Anna.

  “Why worry about it now? It’s in the past.”

  “Nee, it’s not. It’s part of why John hasn’t come back, don’t you see?” she asked him. “It isn’t just the way your dat treated you that’s bothering him. It’s your mudder, too.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. John had held so much inside. She hurt for him, for the boy he’d been, for the man he was now.

  He needed her. And she needed him. She needed to love away all his pain and show him that someone cared about him.

  She stood. “I have to talk to him.”

  Sam rose. “Let me drive you home.”

  “Nee, I can walk. It’s not that far.”

  “But it’s almost dark.”

  “Rose Anna, let Sam drive you home,” Mary Elizabeth said quietly.

  She looked at him. It was obvious that she’d upset him asking about whether his dat had ever hit John. He wasn’t the oldest bruder, but maybe he wished he’d looked after him more. Protected him.

  “Allrecht,” she said. “Danki.”

  The drive home was silent. It was just the two of them. Mary Elizabeth had asked if they minded if she stayed behind to finish cleaning up the kitchen. Seeing how tired she looked after a day of canning, Rose Anna insisted she stay home.

  Sam seemed absorbed in his own thoughts. Rose Anna didn’t feel up to making conversation. It was a gut thing the trip was short. She thanked him when they arrived at her haus, and she was grateful her parents nodded when she said she was tired and was going to bed early.

  She got ready for bed and climbed into it, welcoming its softness after a long day.

  Then the thought struck her: could a man who’d only witnessed an unhappy marriage, grown up feeling unloved, be able to make a happy union with a woman? Could he be a gut dat?

  Sleep didn’t come for hours.

  ***

  Shoveling manure was a part of every day for John. Today it particularly suited his foul mood.

  What could be lower than to give your mudder a hard time and break her heart? he asked himself as he dumped a shovelful of soiled hay into the wheelbarrow.

  When Neil poked his head in to say hello, he raised his eyebrows when all he got was a grunt.

  “Don’t leave without your paycheck.”

  “Won’t.” John dumped another shovelful in the wheelbarrow, propped the shovel against the wall, and pushed the wheelbarrow outside.

  Hard work dampened his shirt but didn’t improve his mood like it usually did. Only when he finished and leaned on Willow’s stall to take a brief rest did he realize he’d been so grumpy he hadn’t given any of the horses the attention he usually did. Willow bumped her head against his arm as if to rebuke him, so he stroked her nose and watched as the newly named Fiona pranced over and pushed her nose playfully at his hand. He went down the stalls and gave each of them some time. To his surprise, even Midnight, who usually didn’t seek attention and merely tolerated it with the air of an equine prince, shook his head and allowed him to pat him.

  He left the barn, making sure the door was secure before he walked up to the main house. Neil always said just walk in, but he thought that was presumptuous so he knocked. And knocked again. Neil had told him to be sure to get his paycheck. Neil finally came to the door looking pale and tired.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” he said. “Did you need something?” He gestured for John to come in, so he stepped inside.

  “You told me to get my paycheck before I left, but it looks like you’re not feeling well. I can get it tomorrow.”

  “No, no, it’s here somewhere.” Neil waved a hand at the kitchen table and frowned. “I was just writing out checks for bills earlier. It’s here somewhere.” He riffled through some papers scattered on the table and then swayed.

  John grasped him by his arms before he fell and gently pushed him down into a chair. “What’s wrong?”

  Neil shook his head as if to clear it. “Dizzy. Chest . . . hurts.” He fumbled in his shirt pocket. A pill bottle slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

  John scooped it up, saw it was Neil’s heart medicine, and put it back in the older man’s hands. But Neil couldn’t seem to twist the cap so he took it back, opened it, and tipped a tablet into his hand. “Here. Do you need some water?”

  “No, no.” He wiped at the sweat on his forehead and seemed to struggle for breath. “It’s the third—the third I’ve taken. They’re not working.”

  John reached for his cell phone and realized he’d left it in his truck. “Give me your cell phone.”

  When Neil didn’t immediately respond and clutched his chest, John reached into the man’s shirt pocket and plucked it out. He dialed 911.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We need to get you to the hospital.”

  “Don’t need—”

  John shushed him and answered the 911 dispatcher’s questions. It took only minutes for paramedics to arrive, but they were the longest minutes of his life. He found himself praying—something he hadn’t done for a very long time—as they swarmed into the kitchen and took over.

  “Come with,” Neil croaked as they loaded him onto a gurney.

  “Of course,” he said, locking the door as he followed the paramedics to the ambulance.

  He watched as Neil was given oxygen and hooked up to monitors in the ambulance. As the ambulance doors were closed, he realized he was still clutching the bottle of nitroglycerin in his hand. He handed it to the paramedic who was trying to get a medical history from Neil and told him what he could.

  The grim look the paramedic watching a monitor had on his face told John that the news wasn’t good. He glanced at John. “Good thing you called us. They’ll be waiting for us at the hospital.”

  “I’ll call your son,” he told Neil.

  But the older man shook his head. “Big case. Don’t—bother.” He frowned as the ambulance accelerated down the driveway and the siren wailed. “Such a fuss. It’ll pass.”

  The paramedic kept his eyes on John and sent him a silent message. John didn’t need it. He intended to call Brad, but there was no need to argue with Neil.

  Then it happened. Neil coded in the ambulance.

  The two paramedics went into action, keeping their balance as the ambulance sped toward the hospital. One spoke to the hospital and administered drugs into the intravenous drip while the other did CPR.

  John prayed harder.

  When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the doors were opened and he stayed out of the way as Neil’s gurney was pushed rapidly through the emergency room entrance.

  He wasn’t allowed inside the treatment room. It was a tough call as to which was worse: watching as the vital man he knew and admired went into cardiac arrest or waiting and not being able to see what was happening.

  So he walked into the waiting room and used Neil’s cell phone to call his son.

  “Hey, Dad, can I call you back? I’m going into court right now,” Brad said before John could speak.

  “Brad, it’s John Stoltzfus,” he said quickly. “I’m calling about your father. I’m at the emergency room. He’s had a heart attack.”

  He relayed what had happened and told him how Neil had insisted he didn’t want Brad called, saying he was involved in a big case.

  “It is,” Brad said, and he sighed gustily. “Listen, I have to walk into court and talk to the judge, tell him I have a family emergency, and get a postponement. I should be on the road in fifteen minutes.”

  “I won’t leave until you get here.”

&n
bsp; There was silence, and John wondered if Brad had hung up. “I appreciate that,” he heard him say.

  “Call me when you’re on the road, and I’ll let you know what the doctor says if I hear anything more.”

  “Will do.”

  A half hour later a doctor appeared in the doorway. “John Stoltzfus?”

  He stood. “That’s me.”

  The doctor walked over and sank down onto the sofa. “Have a seat. I haven’t been off my feet for hours. Well, Mr. Zimmerman had a heart attack as you know. We’re taking him in for a cardiac catheterization in a few minutes. That’s a test to see how bad the damage is, see if we need to do surgery. I called his cardiologist, and he’s on his way.”

  “I just called his son. He’ll be here as soon as he can.” John hesitated, but then he had to ask. “Is Neil going to make it?”

  “We’re doing everything we can.” He stood. “I’ll say this. You did the right thing getting him here when you did. Too often either the patient or the family doesn’t recognize what’s going on.”

  “I’m not family.”

  “That’s not the impression I got from Mr. Zimmerman. I’ll know more after we do the catheterization.”

  “Thanks, Doctor.”

  John walked down to the cafeteria for coffee, considered a sandwich, and decided against it. He wasn’t entirely sure his stomach could even handle the coffee.

  An hour passed. The doctor came out again and explained that one of Neil’s arteries was 90 percent blocked and he needed something called a stent.

  “Does that mean surgery?”

  The doctor nodded.

  John wrote down Brad’s number and asked that he call him and explain. The doctor took the number and agreed. “You can see him for a few minutes if you like.”

  Neil frowned at him when he walked into his cubicle. “Heard you called Brad,” he grumbled. “Told you not to.”

  “Well, he had a right to know. Said he was going to ask the judge for something called a postponement. He’s on his way here.”

  “That just drags things out.” He plucked at the blanket covering him. “Well, guess I should thank you for insisting on calling for an ambulance. Doc said I might not have made it if you hadn’t gotten me here when you did.”