“My other workshop.” David bounced a little on his toes, gaze eager as he looked between Isaac and the square room.
It was a smaller version of the workshop in the Lantz barn, but here there were tools with cords hanging from them, a small white refrigerator humming in the corner, and of course covered light bulbs overhead. Isaac stepped inside, not sure where to look first. In the pencil sketches tacked to a board on the wall, he recognized David’s hand. He opened and closed his mouth like one of the fish they were supposed to be catching. “I…”
“Hi ho!” A woman’s voice rang out.
Isaac wheeled around, and she stopped short just inside the door.
“Oh! Hello there.” She glanced at David. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”
David’s smile was shaky. “June, this is Isaac. Isaac, this is my friend June.”
June took a few steps and stuck out her hand. “Great to meet you, Isaac.”
For a moment, Isaac could only stare. Then he shook her hand the way he would a man’s. June apparently didn’t seem to think it strange at all. She smiled, her green eyes crinkling at the corners in her round face. She looked to be in her sixties.
Light hair hung down to her shoulders, part of it held back with some kind of plastic clip. She wore jeans and a soft plaid shirt beneath an open jacket, and brightly colored sneakers on her feet. After letting go of Isaac’s hand, she opened her arms to David. Isaac watched, stunned, as David hugged the English woman, pressing against her tightly as if it were an everyday occurrence.
There was something familiar about June, and it took a few moments before Isaac remembered where he’d seen her before. Mr. Lantz’s funeral hadn’t been as big as some Isaac remembered from his youth, but David’s older sister and a passel of cousins had made the trip from Ohio. Bishop Yoder had welcomed them despite the bitter feelings that had arisen from the split in their former community, surely hoping they’d find Zebulon a better place to come and live. But they’d returned home in the end.
The service had been in the barn. There was only one non-Amish person there—the English woman whose house was the closest to the Lantz farm with a telephone. A memory of her sitting at the back—dressed in black and looking almost like a plain woman but for the lack of cap—flashed through Isaac’s mind. He could barely recognize her now with her easy smile and flowing hair as she spoke to David.
“Good news—I have a buyer for the dining table. And there’s better news—they want you to make a matching hutch.”
David grinned. “I’ll start on the design tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow’s Sunday,” Isaac blurted. In the silence that followed, he added lamely, “We’re not supposed to work on Sunday.”
David held up his hands before letting them fall to his sides with a shrug. “There are a lot of things we’re not supposed to do.”
June smiled kindly. “A day of rest always did seem like a good idea to me.”
Isaac’s head spun, and he tried to think of something to say to this woman. “What do you farm here?”
“Oh, nothing in a long time. My husband had a passion for it, but I sold off most of the land when he passed. I like the solitude, but my thumbs are entirely black.”
Isaac couldn’t help but look down at her hands, which seemed perfectly normal.
She laughed. “It’s a saying. Green thumbs mean you have the touch with plants. I was much more suited to office work—I was the county clerk in Warren. Now blissfully retired aside from the venture with David.” She glanced at a silver watch on her wrist. “You boys had better get going if you’re going to make the movie.”
Terror and a thrill coiled in Isaac’s belly. “Movie?”
Glancing between Isaac and David, June backed toward the door. “I’ll leave some money for you in the truck if you decide to go. Time for this old broad to get back to her Downton Abbey marathon. It was nice to meet you, Isaac. Hope I’ll see you again.”
Isaac forced a smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I…um, thank you for having me.”
In the silence, Isaac could hear the crunch of gravel as June returned to the house. His breathing sounded harsh to his own ears.
“I’m sorry if I upset you.” David sighed heavily. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I thought… After I saw you and Mervin last week, I thought you’d enjoy it. Seeing a movie for real, on the big screen. I shouldn’t have assumed. And I shouldn’t have burdened you with my secrets.”
“I’m not…” Isaac scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to say. About any of this.”
A round clock ticked on the wall above the refrigerator, and David glanced to it. “If we want to see the movie, we have to leave soon. It starts at nine.” He looked back at Isaac. “Or I can take you home. I won’t be upset. I shouldn’t have surprised you with everything all at once.”
But excitement pulsed through Isaac, smothering the fear. “Where would we go to see a movie?”
The dimple appeared in David’s cheek. “There’s a drive-in outside Warren. Takes no time at all with the truck.” He opened a chest of drawers in the corner and pulled out a stack of clothing. “These might be a bit big on you, but should fit well enough. This way we blend in.” He selected a pair of dark jeans and a green T-shirt, holding them out.
Isaac reached for them before he could stop himself. He stood in the middle of the workshop, holding the English clothing as if he might a snake. Am I really doing this?
He thought of what Mother and Father would say if they found out—the awful sorrow and disappointment he’d see on their faces—and opened his mouth to tell David to take him back to Zebulon instead. But when he looked up from the denim and cotton in his hands, the words lodged painfully in his throat.
Under the bright electric bulbs, Isaac could see every ripple in David’s muscles as he peeled his shirt over his head. Dark hair sprinkled his chest, and his reddish nipples stood up in the chill of the night air. His stomach was flat, and as he unbuttoned the flap on his pants and tugged, Isaac could see more hair brushing his belly, leading down to—
David looked up, and their gaze locked. Isaac was sure the electricity in the room was somehow leeching into him, sparks zipping over his skin, his groin tightening dangerously. With a ragged breath, he spun around. He yanked off his jacket and shirt, quickly tugging the soft cotton over his head.
He didn’t dare look back as he unbuttoned the flap on his pants and dragged them off. He struggled to get the jeans on over his black boots, but now that he was bare bottomed, he couldn’t take the time to unlace them.
The pants were a little loose, and after he pulled them up, Isaac stared down at the zipper. The jeans and T-shirt were bad enough, let alone that he was in this secret English workshop, even if he hadn’t used any of the electricity or modern things himself. His hands hovered in the air by his waist as he contemplated the silver teeth.
“Careful with the zip. English men wear underwear. You don’t want to get anything caught.” David’s voice was close.
With a deep breath, Isaac turned. David smiled softly. He wore jeans as well, and a white T-shirt. He shrugged on a bright blue cotton jacket with a hood and zipped—zipped!—it up. Across the chest, it read Vikings, with the V shaped like a bull’s horns.
“Do you want me to do it for you?” David asked.
Isaac could only jerk his head in a nod. He held his breath as David reached down and ever so gently zipped the fly of Isaac’s English jeans. He did up the button at the top, his knuckles brushing against Isaac’s trembling belly. They were standing so close that Isaac could see the flecks of gray in David’s eyes, and—
“All set.” David turned away and pawed through the pile of clothing. “Here, there’s no zipper on this sweatshirt. Just pull it over your head.”
He handed Isaac a thick gray bundle of a soft material Isaac had never felt. Like cotton, but not quite. Isaac held it up. It was embroidered with
a dark red letter M, bordered in yellow. He stuck his arms into it and tugged it down. The sleeves hung an inch past his wrists, but it was nice and warm.
“What is this?” He rubbed his hand over his chest. Not that he should enjoy wearing worldly clothing, he reminded himself sternly.
“Fleece. Look…are you sure you want to do this?” David waited by the door. He was wearing sneakers now, but at least they were black.
Yes. No. Yes.
Isaac nodded and strode outside. The familiar stars dotted the sky, and Isaac gazed up at them, breathing deeply and getting his bearings. I can do this. It’s only one night. It won’t hurt anyone.
When David got into the truck, Isaac muttered a quick prayer and opened the door on the other side, climbing up before he could change his mind. The long seat was almost like a buggy’s, but made of leather and impossibly soft. He’d ridden on a bus to Zebulon, but if he’d ever been in a car as a boy, he didn’t remember it.
At least I’m not driving. Guilt flooded him, for what of David’s soul? They were sinning, and for what?
But David was unconcerned. He pulled down a flap above him and the key tumbled out. There were also folded bills of money, which he tucked into the pocket of his jeans. He slid the key into a metal slot, and looked at Isaac.
“Ready?”
Isaac’s throat was bone dry. “Yes,” he croaked.
With a wink, David twisted his hand, and the engine roared to life. Isaac could feel its power all around him—and in him, a tremor at his core. If he’d been with Mervin, he’d have been terrified. But with David, Isaac knew he was safe. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t afraid.
As they rumbled down the lane on sinful rubber tires, headlights splitting the night, the world was suddenly within his grasp.
“How did you learn to drive?” Isaac gripped the door handle, watching the fields zip by.
“June. I don’t have my license, but it’s not far to the drive-in, so she doesn’t mind. She taught me the basics, and I’m careful to always go the speed limit.”
Isaac was glad of it, since they were going plenty fast enough. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. The fabric felt stiff against his privates, and he shifted on the seat. “Did you know her before? Before your father…”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…”
David’s gaze stayed on the road, a yellow line leading their way. “Even though I’d ridden Kaffi across the fields like we did today, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, and she sat me down on the porch steps and put my head between my knees. I knew it was too late already. When I got to him in the field, it was…he was gone.” A breath shuddered through him.
Isaac waited silently.
“But I had to try. June called the ambulance and drove me back. I didn’t even think about the fact that I’d left Kaffi behind. When I went back the next day, she gave me lemonade and we talked. That’s how it began, I guess. I know it must seem strange to you.”
“No!” Isaac insisted. “Well, a little.”
As they neared the railroad tracks, a thrill shot up Isaac’s spine. How wonderful it would be to see the red flashing lights, and watch the freight cars lumber by. He peered both ways as they bumped over the tracks, but there was only darkness.
Lights flared ahead of them, and then disappeared as the road curved. Isaac watched as the approaching car came back into sight, mesmerized by how different it felt being out on the road at night in a truck rather than a dangerously dark buggy. He could actually enjoy this drive.
“What is it, exactly? You build furniture and she gives you money? Like for the movie tonight?” With a sinking sensation, he added, “But I don’t have any money. How will I get in?”
David laughed. “Don’t be silly. I’m paying for you. Don’t worry, it’s not much. Anyway, with June we split everything half and half. She buys the raw materials and the tools, and does the selling and shipping. Most of my half she deposits into my bank account, but she keeps cash for me as well.”
“How does she put money in your account? Don’t you have to be there?” Isaac’s father had one at the bank in Warren, but Isaac had never been inside.
“It’s all online now. That’s what they call it when it’s on the computer. June has one upstairs. We have a website too. She puts up pictures of my furniture, and people from all over can buy things without ever leaving their house. At first I thought there was no way—the pieces were so heavy no one would pay to have them shipped. But I’ve discovered there are people out there with a lot more money than we could even dream of.”
“Buying things without leaving the house?” Isaac shook his head. “Without ever touching something or seeing it for themselves?”
“I know, it seems weird, but that’s how it works a lot of the time now in the English world. People want convenience.”
Isaac frowned. “Seems wrong. Sinful, somehow.”
“Maybe.” David slowed at a stop sign and turned down Highway 1. “But I can’t support my family only selling to people in Zebulon. The English pay triple or more what I can charge our neighbors. The Ordnung tells us men should stay on their farms, but most of us here are barely scratching by.”
“I know, but…”
“You remember how different it was in Red Hills? Men could work in factories and do other jobs. Bishop Yoder hardly even wants us to sell to the English. There are other Swartzentrubers who do, but we have to hope for stray tourists. Doesn’t God want us to prosper in this land? Why is it okay for us to sell to the English if they come to us, but we can’t go to them?”
Isaac couldn’t argue. “But once you join the church, you’ll have to stop all this. Right?”
David’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I suppose so.”
Ahead a bright sign came into sight. A huge red arrow pointed to a field where a sea of cars and trucks were parked. “Sky-Vu,” Isaac read. He blinked through the windshield at the enormous screen on the other side of the field where huge images flickered. It looked like one of the verboten comic books Aaron used to read with him late at night, their heads together, keeping the lamp low.
They drove up to a windowed booth adorned with yellow lights and a red sign that said Budweiser. Beneath it on a white board, black block letters spelled out the admission prices and a message:
WHERE FRIENDS MEET FRIENDS.
When David pulled up and rolled down the window with a press of a button, the white-haired man in the booth grinned.
“Hi there, David. Glad you could make it for the last show of the season.” He ducked his head a bit and eyed Isaac. “I see you brought a pal. I’ll give you our customer appreciation rate since the first flick is almost over. It’ll be eight dollars total.” He ripped off a piece of paper.
“Thanks, Mike. This is Isaac.” David handed over a bill and put the paper on the dashboard.
“Howdy, Isaac. Hope we’ll see you again in the spring.” He passed two bills back to David.
“Thank you,” Isaac replied.
David found a place to park amid all the other vehicles. He turned the key, and the engine went dead with a rattle. Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Isaac stared up at the screen and monkeys dancing with what looked like joyful polar bears. “I don’t hear anything,” he blurted.
With a smile, David turned the key one notch and pressed a button. The radio dial lit up, and music filled the truck. As David turned the knob, there was static and bursts of music until the number 94.1 appeared. David twisted another knob, and there were voices. After a moment Isaac realized it was the monkeys on the screen debating whether or not to share something with the bears. He found himself smiling. “Wow.”
“Cool, huh? You stay here and watch. I’ll get us some snacks.”
“No!” The thought of being alone in the truck in his English clothes watching a movie made Isaac queasy. “I’ll come with you.”
As they walked toward a small rectangular brick building wi
th an illuminated sign that proclaimed it the Snack Bar, Isaac’s cheeks burned. Most people were in their cars watching the movie, but he felt certain everyone was staring. That they knew. He kept his eyes on the ground.
Inside it smelled deliciously like grease and popcorn, and a youngie girl with her long blonde hair pulled back through a baseball cap grinned.
“Hey, David! Who’s this?”
“Jessica, this is Isaac.”
Isaac nodded. “How do you do?”
She grinned again. “I do just fine, thank you. What can I get you? David, you want the usual?”
“Of course.” David pointed out the menu board to Isaac. “Shorty’s Valley Famous BBQ Sandwich. The sauce is amazing. Or you can get a hot dog—or a chilli cheese dog. Or nachos. Jessica, we’ll get a large popcorn with extra butter too.” He glanced at Isaac. “Pepsi or 7-Up?”
“Pepsi.” Isaac’s mouth watered. “I haven’t had one since I went to Warren the last time.”
“Been a while, then?” David perused the chocolate bars in a glass display case in the counter.
“Three years.”
“I’d say you’re due.”
At least eating and drinking English food wasn’t explicitly a violation of the Ordnung. They just didn’t get much of a chance in Zebulon. “Should I get a hot dog or nachos?”
“Both.” David nodded to Jessica, who took tongs and plucked a hot dog from inside a machine that rolled the meat around.
By the time they made their way back to the truck, they had so much food Isaac could barely hold his share. The first movie seemed to have finished, and words scrolled up the screen.
“The people here are nice,” Isaac noted. “Do they…do they know where we’re from?” He mentally kicked himself for mentioning in front of Jessica that he hadn’t had Pepsi in years.
David settled in behind the wheel. “I’m sure they do, but they’ve never said anything about it.”
“You don’t think it’s dangerous? What if they told someone?”
A Forbidden Rumspringa Page 8