A Forbidden Rumspringa

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A Forbidden Rumspringa Page 5

by Keira Andrews


  “You’re handy with an ax?” David asked.

  “Of course.” Did that sound vain? “Only because I’ve helped with the firewood for the stove these past years. I think I’m okay at it. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  David glanced up from the design. “Isaac, it’s all right. You don’t need to be nervous.” He smiled. “I won’t bite, remember? Just be yourself. I’m told you’re a hard worker, and as long as that’s true, we’ll get along just fine.”

  “Right. Okay.” Isaac nodded. “I am. A hard worker, I mean. I won’t disappoint you.”

  David picked up a ruler. “I’m sure you won’t. There’s a felled tree outside. Chop it into big pieces like those others.” He nodded toward the stacks of wood against the walls.

  Isaac scurried off to do what he was told, eager to prove himself and officially start his life as a carpenter, even if he was only chopping wood. Although he was used to going barefoot in the barn at home, he noticed David wore his boots, and Isaac kept his on as well. The last thing he wanted to do was drop one of the tools on his toes.

  By eleven-thirty, his excitement had faded. The tree seemed never ending, and Isaac lifted his hat to swipe his sleeve over his forehead, blinking into the bright sunshine. David had brought him a cup of water midmorning and reminded him to help himself, but Isaac hadn’t wanted to seem weak or lazy on his first day. Yet now as Mrs. Lantz called them for lunch, he felt unsteady.

  By the kitchen table, he swayed a little as he bowed his head for quiet grace, and felt David’s strong hand on his waist. As Isaac recited the Lord’s Prayer in his mind, he didn’t dare breathe. They all raised their heads in unison and took their seats, David beside him, and the women across the table.

  Isaac gulped down three cups of water, Mary refilling his tin cup each time. He smiled apologetically. “I got a little warm out there.”

  David ribbed him kindly. “Now will you help yourself to the water in the barn like I suggested?”

  “Yes,” Isaac mumbled sheepishly.

  “Maybe you should have a drink of vinegar if you’re still feeling faint. It works every time,” Mrs. Lantz said, starting to get up.

  “No!” Isaac cleared his throat. “Really, I feel much better now. Thank you.” He cringed inside at the thought of choking down the vinegar. It was one of his mother’s favorite remedies.

  “All right. Please be at home here, Isaac.” Mrs. Lantz said, passing a plate of biscuits while Anna walked around the table to ladle out bowls of the chicken soup.

  There was no reason he shouldn’t be at home, as the house was similar to his own in almost every way on the inside as well, from the white walls and stark, uncushioned furniture, to the wood-burning stove in the kitchen corner.

  While the three littlest Lantz girls were in school, at seventeen and eighteen, Anna and Mary were home all day to help their mother until they married. Isaac realized he’d never seen them at home in their white caps before, only on weekends or out and about in their black caps. In the white they looked older to him somehow. He supposed they would be married women before too long.

  He glanced at Mary as she poured him more water. Is she going to be my wife? He felt another wave of dizziness and stared at his bowl.

  “It’s good for David to have another man about the place.” Anna gave her brother a friendly nudge as she stood behind him and filled his bowl. “He hardly has any friends. Too busy working.”

  “David has friends!” Mrs. Lantz insisted. “No one has said a bad word about our David.”

  It was true—although the community had certainly whispered about how long it took for David to decide to follow church, Isaac had never really heard anything bad said about him. Yet Anna was right that David didn’t seem to have close friends. He’d always kept to himself.

  “All those nights he goes off to fish—of course David has friends,” Mrs. Lantz added.

  Anna said nothing as she sat in her place, suddenly engrossed in fiddling with the strings of her cap.

  “It’s all right, Mother. You don’t need to defend me,” David said.

  “Still, I think it’ll be good to have Isaac here. Don’t you think, Mary?” Anna’s smile had altogether too much forced innocence to it.

  Cheeks flaming, Mary stared at her bowl and nodded as she took a mouthful.

  Isaac desperately tried to think of something to say. “You’re so lucky you get your own room, David. I have to share with my brothers and—” He stopped, shame prickling his skin. “I didn’t mean to say it was lucky that…I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Lantz’s smile was strained. “It’s all right.”

  Anna shrugged. “He wouldn’t be living here still anyway. He’d have his own farm, or he’d be out in the world.”

  “Anna.” David stared daggers.

  She dropped her spoon with a clatter. “What? It’s the truth. Why can’t we talk about him? It’s as if he was excommunicated after he died. We talk about Father, don’t we?”

  “Father did not dishonor our family, community and the Lord.” Mrs. Lantz spoke quietly, her gaze locked on the table. Mary placed her hand on her mother’s arm.

  “Joshua made a mistake!” Anna insisted. “He wasn’t bad.”

  Isaac glanced from one Lantz to the other, wishing fervently the floorboards would split apart and swallow him whole.

  David spoke firmly. “He ran wild, Anna. He had no fear of God in him. It was more than a mistake. Rachel and Martha died as well because of him.”

  “I know, but…”Anna’s eyes filled with tears. “He was a good brother, and I loved him.”

  Isaac held his breath. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard someone talk openly about love. It just wasn’t their way.

  Blinking rapidly, Anna bowed her head in the silence. “I’m sorry, Mother. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Mrs. Lantz kept her voice steady. “I just thank the Lord that something good came out of it. Now we’re in Zebulon, and there will be no rumspringa to endanger my children. We’ve all forgiven Joshua in our hearts. At least he’s not part of this sinful world anymore. God decided it was his time.”

  It was the Amish way to forgive the sins of those that had wronged them, but Isaac wasn’t sure he quite believed that forgiveness had reached the Lantz family’s hearts.

  Mrs. Lantz went on, “And now our David is being baptized at long last. I only wish Father were here to witness it. How happy he would be to see his son join the church and yield to God. For it is the only way.”

  Isaac peeked at David, who gripped his spoon so tightly his knuckles were white.

  After a few more moments of silence, Mrs. Lantz spoke again. “Isaac, we apologize for Anna’s outburst. This is not how we welcome guests in our home, I assure you. It will not happen again. Will it, Anna?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “There’s no need to apologize. It was my thoughtlessness that started it.” He picked up a warm biscuit and took a bite before smiling awkwardly. “Mary, these are delicious.”

  “Do you think so?” Her face brightened. “It’s a special recipe.”

  Isaac asked as many questions about lunch as he could think of, and by the time the plates were cleared, the dark cloud had lifted. “Should I get the water from the well for the dishes?” he asked.

  Mrs. Lantz waved him off. “Of course not. The girls will do it.”

  Mary had the bucket in hand already while Anna stacked the dishes by the dry sink. Mary smiled. “But thank you for offering.”

  Isaac quickly plucked his hat from the peg by the kitchen door and followed David outside, certain he could still feel Mary’s eager gaze upon him. He could imagine what Mervin would say, and the kissy noises he’d make. Isaac picked up his pace and walked alongside David, leaving Mary behind.

  By late afternoon, Isaac was not only sweating profusely, but covered in fine sawdust. He put his sandpaper down to wipe his mouth on his sleeve, wincing at the grit on his tongue. With all the farm work he’d done his whole l
ife, Isaac’s hands were rough, but he could see why David’s were particularly callused.

  “I’m sorry for what happened at lunch.”

  Isaac blinked as he raised his head. They hadn’t spoken in hours, and David’s gaze was still on the length of wood he was carefully measuring for a new church bench for Eli Kauffman.

  “But I’m the one who should apologize.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” David made a notch in the wood.

  “I was thoughtless.” Isaac folded the sandpaper and fiddled with the edges. “Especially since I know what it is to lose a brother.”

  David’s hands stilled, and he caught Isaac’s gaze. He said nothing.

  “Not that it’s the same, exactly,” Isaac hastily added. “My Aaron isn’t…he was taken by the world.”

  “He might as well be dead, though.” Something mournful passed over David’s face, dimming the light in his eyes. “That’s how I imagine it to be, at least.”

  Isaac swallowed thickly. “Yes. He’s lost forever unless he returns to the church. I don’t think that’ll ever happen. He couldn’t handle the restrictions of our old church. I can’t imagine him accepting our ways here in Zebulon.”

  “No.” David ran his long fingers along the wood. “Where do you think he is?”

  Isaac watched the motion of David’s hand. “I don’t know. He spoke sometimes of the ocean.” Isaac didn’t add that he also longed to see the vast expanse of the sea. To feel the sand between his toes, and the water rushing over his feet. He squeezed the sandpaper, the heavy grit digging into his skin. “I wonder if he even knows where we are now. Probably not.” I wonder if he thinks about us at all.

  “Do you hear from your sisters in Red Hills?”

  Isaac relaxed his grip. “Yes. Bishop Yoder discourages it since their husbands decided against moving here, but it’s not forbidden. My mother writes with Abigail and Hannah every month. Your sister Emma is still there as well, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. She just had her sixth child. A girl. She writes every few weeks.” He smiled sharply. “Mother doesn’t respond herself, but Mary writes back, and Mother practically dictates every word as she does, hovering over her shoulder.”

  He waited for David to say more, but after a few moments, David went back to his work. Isaac returned to sanding the rough wood on a new chest of drawers. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he was able to lose himself in the pleasure of the work, even if it was only sanding, and feel comfortable in David’s presence.

  Some time later, David spoke. “That’s enough for today.”

  Isaac jumped at the sound of David’s voice, and realized the sun was setting. “I’ll see you again tomorrow?” He felt suddenly uneasy. What if David wasn’t happy with his work? He should have tried harder. Maybe if he—

  “Of course.” The dimple appeared in David’s right cheek. “You did very well, Isaac. Don’t worry so much.”

  “Thank you. I’ll try.” He brushed off his shirt, frowning at the sawdust on his skin.

  “You can shower here if you’d like.”

  Isaac gaped. “Shower? But how?”

  Eyes alight, David dropped his hat on the worktable and headed for the passageway past the animal stalls. “I’ll show you.”

  Isaac left his own hat behind and followed, his pulse picking up like a horse into a trot. They only usually bathed once a week on Saturday nights, filling a tub in the kitchen and filing in one after the other. Isaac was always glad to get to go before Katie and his younger brothers, so at least the water was fairly clean.

  In the very back corner of the barn was another wooden stall, this one narrow, with a door and walls taller than a man stood. With a flourish, David pulled the wooden handle and stepped aside. Isaac peered in.

  The floor was made of smooth planks that slanted toward a round hole in the corner. On the wall there was a carved alcove where a bar of yellow soap rested. Above was a large wooden barrel, built into one of the thick beams of the hayloft with pipe jutting out over their heads. A rope hung down.

  Isaac stared, mouth open. “But how?”

  David tugged him inside the stall and pointed up. “There’s another pipe attached to the back of the barrel leading to a drainage system I set up on the roof. The barrel fills up, and even in summer there always seems to be enough. Pull on the rope and it pours out.”

  Laughing, Isaac turned in a circle, gazing up at the apparatus. There was enough room for the two of them in the stall, although he brushed against David with his arm. “It must freeze in the winter, though?”

  “It does, but I have a secret in the hayloft. I rigged a lamp under the barrel. I light it before I shower, and there’s warm water flowing into the barrel in no time.”

  Isaac gaped. “That’s genius. You should make one of these for everyone! We all had proper plumbing in Red Hills, and this is the next best thing.”

  David’s expression sobered. “I don’t think Bishop Yoder would approve. My mother won’t let the girls use it. She doesn’t stop me at least. Even though she tells me every chance she gets that it’s a threat to my salvation.”

  Isaac ran his fingers over the length of rope hanging down. “But it doesn’t break the Ordnung does it? There’s no electricity. And it isn’t inside the house.”

  “It doesn’t break the rules explicitly, but Mother thinks it too worldly. And of course if you think so, you don’t have to use it.” He placed his hand on Isaac’s arm. The stall door had swung shut, and they were in shadows. “Just promise you won’t tell anyone about it. They wouldn’t like it.”

  “Of course not.” Isaac was frozen, his skin flickering where David touched him. “I’d like to use it if you don’t mind.”

  “I thought you might.” David dropped his hand and turned. High in the corner by the door, there was a cut-out box with a lamp inside. He turned the knob, and the familiar hiss of kerosene and golden light filled the shower.

  David pointed to a series of metal hooks on the wall outside the stall. “Shake out your clothes and hang them here.” He nodded at the rope. “No need to pull too hard. The water might be a bit cold unless you want to wait to warm it. It should be fine until October, though.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks.”

  Isaac waited until David’s footsteps retreated to remove his galluses and unhook the three eyes at the collar of his shirt. Despite the day’s lingering heat, goose bumps spread over his skin as he shook out his shirt and bent over to unlace his leather boots, stuffing his socks inside.

  He unbuttoned the flap at the front of his pants and peeled them off. Isaac knew English men wore shorts underneath, although it seemed a strange idea to him. Making sure his knife was still safely tucked in his pocket, he hung his clothing on a peg next to a towel.

  He closed the stall and eyed the barrel above him. Being completely naked in David Lantz’s barn made him nervous, even though he’d closed the door. It was silly, since he was used to bathing in the kitchen. Sure, everyone knew to stay away while they took turns in the tub, but it wasn’t as though he hadn’t been naked around his brothers a million times in their room getting dressed and undressed.

  He reached for the rope, running his fingers over the dry braid. His first tug wasn’t hard enough, but on the second, a stream of water ran out. He yelped at the cold and let go of the rope, stopping the flow. Isaac lathered his hands with the citronella soap and scrubbed his hair and body quickly. The wet floor was smooth under his feet, and he could imagine how long it had taken David to sand. He’d probably gotten down on his hands and knees to refine the edges once the stall was built.

  Isaac’s balls tingled, and he bit back a groan as he soaped them. Blood rushed to his groin, and the urge to touch himself was overwhelming. Breath coming fast, he wrapped his palm around his cock, just for a moment. He knew it was wrong, but…

  “How’s it going?”

  Isaac jerked his hand away. David was right outside the door, and Isaac hadn’t even heard him approaching. �
��Fine,” he squeaked.

  “I brought you a fresh towel. It’s hanging out here.” David’s footsteps retreated once more.

  “Thanks!” Isaac called.

  The last thing he needed was to disgrace himself in David Lantz’s barn, so Isaac tugged hard on the rope. The rush of cool water doused him, and he thought about sitting in church listening to the preachers until his body settled. When he cracked open the door he was alone, and he quickly toweled off and re-dressed.

  At the worktable, David was bent over one of his designs again, scratching notes with a pencil. He glanced up. “How was it?”

  “Great. Wonderful.” Isaac forced a smile. Lord help him, what would David think if he knew what Isaac had been so tempted to do? “Thank you,” he added.

  “I’ll make sure there’s a towel for you every day.” David dropped his pencil and ran a hand through his dark hair with a yawn. “I should wash up myself.”

  At the thought of David being naked where Isaac just had stood, he sucked in a breath and made for the door. “See you in the morning!”

  Silver waited in a small paddock, happily munching grass. He harnessed her, petting her head and scratching her neck just where she liked it. They plodded down the lane, the old buggy creaking with every rut. Isaac was almost home when he realized he’d forgotten his hat, but the way the breeze caught his wet hair made him think of a train flying on the tracks, and he spurred Silver on faster.

  “Well?”

  Isaac glanced up from his bowl and slurped the bean soup on his spoon. “Well what?”

  Mother and Father chuckled, and Ephraim rolled his eyes. Nathan elbowed him. “You’ve been working with David Lantz for days now, and you’ve barely said a word about it!”

  “Oh.” Isaac pulled his spoon back and forth through his soup. He was oddly embarrassed, and thinking of David made his belly flutter. “It’s fine. I can’t complain.”

 

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