“Even now?” Isaac blurted. “I mean…you’re joining the church. I thought…” He scooped up his knife and folded it back into his pocket. “I thought you wouldn’t anymore.”
David shrugged. “I think it’s human to be curious, no matter how old we are.” He nodded at the ground. “Don’t forget your hats.”
As they walked through the trees with Isaac in the middle, Mervin began chattering. “Are you going to drive a girl home tonight, David?”
“Perhaps.” David pulled off a low-hanging leaf and rolled it between his long fingers.
With his eyes locked on David’s hand, Isaac stumbled over an exposed root, and David reached out to steady him. Isaac’s smile was tremulous. What is wrong with me?
“Sadie’s father will only let me drive her home once a month. I have to wait two more weeks! I wish we could just go steady now. We can write letters, at least.” Mervin kicked the dirt. “But it’s not fair. Once a month? She said her father likes me, but her uncle doesn’t think it’s proper to rush things.”
Isaac grimaced. “At least Deacon Stoltzfus is only her uncle. Can you imagine having him as your father-in-law?”
“He wasn’t so bad before. He used to smile, at least. But after…” Mervin glanced at David. “Sorry.”
David shrugged. “Don’t be. It’s not like we all don’t know what happened. I can’t blame Deacon Stoltzfus for mourning his daughter. Martha deserved better. So did Rachel.” He crushed the leaf in his hand, scattering the debris.
“So did Joshua,” Isaac said softly.
David met his gaze with raised eyebrows. “I imagine you’re the only person aside from the family who really thinks that.”
Isaac shook his head. “Maybe just the first one to say it.”
David stopped, gazing intently. “Either way, thank you.”
A strange thrill zipped through him, and Isaac smiled. “It’s just the truth. Joshua made mistakes, but he never meant to hurt anyone. Not that I really knew him, but he was your brother, and you’re… Well, I can’t imagine he intended any of it.”
“He didn’t.” David opened his mouth and closed it again. “He was curious about everything. It was so stupid what he did.”
“He didn’t know what would happen. It was an accident.”
“Accident? I’m sorry, but doing those drugs wasn’t an accident,” Mervin said. “Drinking is one thing, but doing that powder? That was way over the line. And Martha and Rachel would never have taken drugs if it wasn’t for him,” Mervin said. He crossed his arms. “They would never have died like that.”
Isaac gritted his teeth. “Joshua drowned too. Who can say how it happened?”
“If not for him they wouldn’t have been messed up in the first place, and—”
“You don’t know that!” Isaac said sharply. Every criticism of Joshua felt like an attack on David, who’d never done a thing to deserve it. It just wasn’t fair.
Mervin’s voice rose. “Are you kidding? My sisters knew Rachel and Martha. They were good girls. No way they would have done that crystal whatever stuff if Joshua Lantz hadn’t talked them into it. And we all wouldn’t have had to leave Red Hills.”
“He’s right,” David said quietly.
Isaac blinked at him. “But…”
“It’s all right, Isaac. I appreciate it.”
Mervin kicked at a stone. “I’m sorry, David. None of it’s your fault. And of course we forgive Joshua.”
Of course. Sometimes forgiveness felt like nothing more than empty words. Isaac wanted to say a lot more, but he shoved his hands in his pockets.
David started walking again. “What were you saying about Sadie? Tell us more.”
Mervin shrugged. “Just that she’s the one. I should never have wasted my time on anyone else.”
Isaac blinked. “The one? Really?”
“Of course!” Mervin sighed dreamily, all tension apparently forgotten for the moment. “She’s got the prettiest eyes, and her skin looks so soft. I just want to touch her all over.”
David chuckled. “All over, huh?”
“After we’re married, of course!” Mervin insisted. “Well, maybe a bit before that if she lets me. But I’m definitely going to marry her. I’m aiming for spring or summer.”
Isaac couldn’t believe his ears. “So soon? You’ll only be nineteen.”
“What’s the sense in waiting?”
“It’s just…most boys wait a year or two longer.” Isaac nodded at Mervin’s pocket. “There’ll be no more of that once you follow church.”
Mervin scowled. “You think I don’t know that?”
They continued on in silence.
Finally Mervin spoke again, his tone forcefully light. “David, I think John’s Grace would be well pleased if you asked to drive her home after the singing tonight.”
“Would she?” David asked flatly.
“Of course! You can’t be that blind. She’s wanted you to ask forever. You haven’t dated any of the girls in ages! We all thought you and Isaac Yoder’s Fannie would have children by now. Why’d you let her go? Although Jacob Raber certainly thanks you, I’m sure.”
Isaac elbowed Mervin. “He had to take care of his mother and sisters, remember?”
Mervin took a sharp breath. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” David snapped off another leaf and rolled it, the dry edges flaking over his fingers. “I didn’t think it was fair to make Fannie wait. She and Jacob seem very happy.”
“Do you think your mother will marry again soon?” Mervin asked. “You can’t stay home forever. Or you could just build another house beyond the barn for you and your wife.”
Isaac really wished Mervin would change the subject. Acid bubbled in his belly, and he quickened his pace. He was obviously hungry for supper.
“Mother was deeply grieved. I’m not sure if she’ll marry again. Anyway, I’m content at home for the time being.” The leaf he was rolling snapped, and David crumbled it in his fist.
They neared the house where they’d suffered through church service that morning, and Isaac sighed to himself as Mary smiled in their direction. It had been two weeks now that he saw her for lunch every day, and while his opinion of her hadn’t changed—she was good and kind—nor had his feelings of ambivalence.
Mervin brightened. “There’s Sadie! See you later.” He walked so quickly he might as well have run.
At least now Isaac felt largely at ease in David’s company. He spied Grace darting glances at David and whispering with her friends.
“Do you want to go talk to Grace?” Isaac asked, since he felt he should.
David looked at him evenly. “No. Do you want to talk to my sister?”
Isaac wasn’t sure what the right answer was, so he told the truth. “Not really.” He hastily added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with her.”
“I know. It’s okay.” David glanced around before peering at Isaac closely and lowering his voice. “Thanks for what you said. About my brother.”
Isaac shrugged, flushing under David’s attention. “It was just…it wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was to me. I haven’t been able to talk much about it. You saw what happened with my mother when Joshua came up. It’s been years, but it still feels like something forbidden.”
“I know what you mean. I don’t even know what really happened.”
David sighed. “Apparently they went down to the river to have a party. It seemed they decided to go swimming.”
“I heard…” Isaac hesitated. “I heard your brother was naked when they found him. And that the girls were only in their underthings.”
With a clenched jaw, David nodded. “It was shameful.”
“If it had been my brother—“ He broke off, his breath shallow at the thought of Aaron being dragged from the river, bloated and pale. “No one deserves that. No matter what.”
David swallowed thickly. “Sometimes I feel guilty when I remember the good things about
him. But I’m resentful too. I don’t blame Mervin. And I think about Rachel and Martha, and how I’d feel if I had a daughter and something like that happened. Or if it was one of my sisters. I’d probably hate Joshua too.”
Isaac scoffed. “But no one hates him. We’re not allowed to be angry. All is forgiven, remember?”
David’s lips quirked into a rueful smile. “I thought I was the only one who didn’t quite believe that.”
“No. Not the only one.” Isaac’s pulse fluttered. “You can talk to me about whatever you want. I may not know what to say, but I can listen.”
“Thanks, Isaac. You know you can say anything to me, right?” David glanced around. “Anything you want, even if you think you shouldn’t say it. I won’t tell.”
Isaac and Mervin had always kept each other’s childish secrets, but with David it felt different somehow. It sent tingles over his skin. He nodded. “Okay.”
Beneath the brim of his black hat, David’s pale blue eyes gleamed. “Hey, do you want to go fishing next week?”
“Sure.” Isaac’s palms tingled. “When?”
“Saturday night.”
“All right.”
The supper bell rang, and before Isaac could say anything else, David was walking away. Isaac followed, wishing Saturday wasn’t almost a whole week away.
“But there’s no church tomorrow.”
Father swallowed his mouthful and wiped yolk from his lip with his napkin. “That doesn’t mean you can stay abed all morning. How late do you want to be out?”
Isaac shrugged. “Not too late. We’re just going fishing after we finish work.”
“Won’t you be tired tonight? You should come home and read. Your father is always so rested after a quiet evening,” Mother said.
Beside Isaac, Ephraim spoke up. “Fishing isn’t hard work. Maybe I could go with them, and—”
“No.” Father’s tone brooked no argument. “Just last night you went hunting with some of the boys, and you worked this morning as if the fields were full of molasses.”
As Ephraim grumbled, relief flooded Isaac. Not that he begrudged his brother a night of fishing, but it wouldn’t be the same with the three of them. He wasn’t sure why. “There’s no work tomorrow. Only the animals to care for, and I promise I’ll tend them properly.”
“You’ll miss your bath tonight,” Mother noted.
He’d kept the shower in David’s barn a secret, as he’d promised. “I’ll wash when I get home.”
Isaac’s siblings all looked to their father, awaiting his verdict. Father glanced at Mother before slowly nodding.
It was settled, and Isaac bit back the urge to whoop. As he hurried from the kitchen after breakfast, Mother called out from the sink.
“Bring me home a few nice fish, Isaac! I’ll make a stew.”
“I will!”
“That’s my good boy.”
It was a work day like any other, and when Isaac arrived at the Lantz’s, David greeted him with a brief smile before going back to his design with a pencil in hand. Isaac was strangely disappointed, although he wasn’t sure what he’d expected David to say. They were only going fishing, after all. Still, Isaac was excited.
He picked up his task of measuring and sawing beams for Elijah Raber’s new dawdy haus. Elijah had taken over running the farm, and now his parents would live out their days in their own little home attached to the main house by a shared kitchen.
As he worked, Isaac wondered if one day before too long he’d build a dawdy haus for his own parents. More likely it would fall to one of the younger boys, and Isaac would have moved to his own land by then. He’d have a wife and children. Yet when he tried to envision that future, his mind remained frustratingly blank.
Isaac always measured twice—and sometimes three times—before putting the saw to the wood. He tried to lose himself in his task, but today the hours dragged by, with lunch being particularly painful. He excused himself as soon as he could, feeling Mary’s gaze on him as he walked to the outhouse. He didn’t want to be rude, but he was desperate for the time to fly so he could head out alone with David.
It’s only fishing by the lake. Why should it be so special?
By the time Isaac showered, he was ready to jump straight out of his skin. He washed himself quickly, taking care not to linger on his privates. He was glad that the water was so cold. When he came back down the passageway to the work area, David was waiting, his hair still damp from his own shower earlier. David popped the last piece of a biscuit in his mouth. Mrs. Lantz had insisted on a late-afternoon snack, and Isaac’s stomach was pleasantly full.
“Ready?” David asked. He nodded to where their hats hung on the wall. “You can get your hat on the way back. No need for it out in the woods with the sun going down. Don’t worry, no one will see us.”
Heart tripping, Isaac nodded and followed outside. Yet David didn’t go toward his buggy, but instead to the fence where a tall bridled horse was tied. When Isaac hesitated, David glanced back.
“There’s a shortcut across the fields and through the woods.” He patted the horse’s neck. “Kaffi likes riders. He’s odd for a draft horse.”
The name must have come from the dark coffee color of the horse’s hair. “You’re sure he can take us both?”
“Absolutely.” David climbed onto the fence and swung his leg over the horse. “Come on, it’s easy. We won’t go too fast.”
“Don’t we need fishing poles?”
“I have a hidey hole in an old log by the lake. I keep them there. Hop on.”
Isaac had ridden occasionally with a saddle before, but not for ages, and never bareback. The fence didn’t waver as he clambered up, but he paused, eyeing the horse’s broad back.
David gave him a smile. “It’s all right. Just grab me and climb on.”
Holding his breath, Isaac grasped David’s shoulder to steady himself as he reached his leg over. Kaffi sidestepped as he settled on, and Isaac dug his fingers into David’s hip with his left hand. He squeezed his thighs around the horse, anticipation zipping through him.
With a click of David’s tongue and prodding of his heels, Kaffi sauntered into the field, following the narrow path between the gardens. Isaac concentrated on breathing steadily and keeping his balance. He should let go of David now that he was getting a feel for it, but Isaac hung on anyway. The pressure on his privates, with only his pants between them and the muscles of the horse’s back, sent faint shivers up his spine.
Isaac could tell when they passed onto the land the Ottos now cultivated, the partly harvested crops growing higher and more plentiful. They didn’t see any workers, but the sun was already beyond the horizon. He breathed in the familiar smell of the fields, earth and grass—and manure, faded now at the harvest, but always there.
David had clearly followed this route through the woods many times, and he didn’t hesitate once they were in the trees. He went steadily east, angling this way and that, Kaffi sure-footed amid the roots and grassy scrub on the ground even as twilight gave way to darkness.
As the moon rose, its ghostly light filtering through the thinning autumn leaves, David brought Kaffi to a stop. The horse bent his head to munch on a low bush, and for a moment the rustling was the only sound. David looked over his shoulder at Isaac with eyes so serious that Isaac held his breath.
“What would you think if we didn’t go fishing tonight?”
“Huh?” Isaac realized he was still hanging on although they weren’t moving. He dropped his hands from David’s waist, making fists to keep from fidgeting.
David watched him steadily. “The truth is, I don’t want to go fishing at all.”
They sat so close that David’s breath tickled Isaac’s face. “What do you want to do?” Isaac whispered.
David’s gaze flicked a few inches down. “I want…”
Heart galloping, Isaac licked his dry lips.
Suddenly David spun back around, vibrating with tension. Kaffi sidestepped, snorting before go
ing back to the shrubs.
Isaac could hardly breathe as he stared at the back of David’s head, wishing he could peek inside. “David?”
He didn’t turn, and his voice was low. “Can I trust you?”
Isaac swallowed hard. “Yes.” He had the crazy urge to reach up and touch the skin of David’s neck, to feel the fine wisps of dark hair there.
“I hardly know you, but I feel like I can. I mean, I’ve known you since you were born, but…not really.”
He wished he could see David’s expression to make some sense of this strange conversation. Tentatively, Isaac flattened his hand on David’s back. Through the broadcloth, he felt rigid muscles beneath his palm. He swallowed hard. “You can trust me.”
“If I take you somewhere, do you promise not to tell? Not anyone?”
“I promise.” Unable to resist, he stroked David’s back the way he would a skittish horse.
With a shudder, David put his heels to Kaffi, urging him on faster than before. Isaac wrapped his arms around David’s waist and squeezed with his thighs, blood rushing in his ears as they cantered into a field under the silver of the moon. His hips pressed right against David’s backside now.
Shivering, Isaac glimpsed what he could of David’s face, wondering what thoughts warred in David’s mind, and where he was leading them with such urgency. He should ask, but instead Isaac simply held on.
A white farmhouse, windows glowing yellow, sat by a small barn and outbuilding. An English pickup truck was parked outside, and as they rode up, a light blazed to life. Isaac gasped. “We’re trespassing. They know we’re here!”
Yet David only chuckled as he pulled Kaffi to a stop. “It’s a motion detector. Don’t worry, we’re welcome here. Hop down.”
Isaac realized he was still clutching David about the middle, and quickly let go to slide from the horse’s back, David following. As David tied Kaffi loosely to a fencepost, Isaac peered around anxiously. “Who lives here?”
“A friend. It’s all right, Isaac.” David smiled and walked toward the outbuilding with the shining light. “Come on.”
With no choice, Isaac trotted after him. Inside, he stood at the threshold as David flicked a switch—as if it were nothing—and light flooded the workroom. Blinking in the harsh electricity, Isaac stared. “It’s…”
A Forbidden Rumspringa Page 7