Everyone—even Father—scoffed amiably.
Pushing around his porridge with his spoon as Mother blessedly changed the subject to Martha Yoder’s new recipe for apple-berry pie, Isaac tried not to think of Mary and her hopeful smile. Before long he’d have to drive some girl home from church to at least keep up appearances. He didn’t want to lead Mary on, though. Not when he was sinning with her brother, and never wanted to stop.
But I will have to stop.
Isaac reached into his pocket and clutched his knife. He carried it with him every day from habit, but hadn’t whittled anything in weeks. It was as though his waking hours were so consumed with David that he had no room for anything else. Even when David was teaching him about carpentry, half the time Isaac stared at his mouth and hands, barely concentrating on what David was saying.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Even sitting at the breakfast table with his family, he was consumed with need. What would he do when he and David ended it?
He thought of Aaron out in the unclean world. Over and over they had learned that a plain life was the only way to heaven. The preachers never said it outright, but it was the foundation of the Ordnung and the church’s teachings. The world was a web of temptation that would trap them, leading them from God’s path and drowning them in sin. Yet when he imagined being with David, Isaac’s mind flew high and free, so close to heaven he could feel its splendor on his skin.
He grabbed his cup of water and choked it down. Isaac knew that to stay in Zebulon with his family he’d have to join the church. Get married. Have children. David was already joining the church. He’d be a member by the end of January at the latest. They hardly had any time at all. It wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough.
“Isaac?” Mother pressed the back of her hand to his head. “You look positively feverish.”
With a scrape, he shoved back his side of the bench and sprang up from the kitchen table. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I need to get going. See you tonight!”
As promised, the weather had turned suddenly cool again, and frost covered the pasture like a fine web. The sun was barely up, but Isaac sped down the road in the buggy, hoping he wouldn’t meet any other traffic. He needed to talk to David. They needed to talk about what would happen. How long could they keep going with their secret coupling before they were caught? If only it didn’t have to be secret.
His mind spun back to yesterday’s lunch. They’d cleaned themselves thoroughly when they were finally sated, and went to the house to eat the lunch Mrs. Lantz had left. Sitting at the kitchen table, they’d eaten in easy silence, smiling at each other and talking of nothing important.
Isaac could almost imagine it was their house, and that they’d have lunch like that every day with no one to see if they happened to steal a kiss between bites or rub their knees together under the table. He knew it was a future they could never have. How would they reconcile what they’d shared with living proper plain lives?
But when he arrived at the Lantz’s and hurried to the barn, David smiled that secret smile, his eyes alight. All of Isaac’s questions withered away. He didn’t want to talk about it now—there would be plenty of time for that later.
With a glance behind, he kissed David. Yes, it could wait.
“Why do I have to be Nava Hocca?” Mervin grumbled. “It’s going to be so boring.”
Isaac unharnessed Silver and gave her a pat. “You know it’s an honor to be one of the witnesses.”
Mervin straightened his black hat, squinting up at the early morning sun peeking through the clouds. “Yes, but we have to be with them all day. I told Ruth I’d make a much better table waiter for her wedding. That way I’d only have to stay for an hour of the ceremony before I got to set up for lunch.”
Isaac waved to some of the Lapps as they drove up in their buggy. His family had already dispersed, Father talking intently with some other men, the boys off in clumps with their friends, and Katie and Mother with the women inside. “I bet your mother and sisters have been cleaning all week.”
“Try since the minute Ruth and Atlee were published, and the deacon announced their engagement last Sunday. My aunts too. Not just cleaning, but cooking enough to feed Zebulon three times over, I reckon. Mother’s determined to make sure no one’s whispering about the food, at least.”
Isaac frowned. “There does seem to be a lot of whispering. Your sister and Atlee haven’t even been going steady that long, have they?”
“Haven’t you heard? You must be the only one who hasn’t.” Mervin leaned in and raised his pale reddish eyebrows. “The thing is, they can’t wait.”
“Why not?”
With a tilt of his head, Mervin gave Isaac a meaningful look. “Why do you think?”
“Oh! You mean they…Ruth’s…” Isaac wasn’t sure why he was so surprised, considering the things he’d been doing. At least he and David couldn’t get pregnant. “What did Bishop Yoder say?”
“Well, you can imagine. But they asked for forgiveness, and they’re doing their penance. The bishop said he might have them shunned for a month, but I guess he decided it was better to get them married sooner rather than later.” Mervin shrugged. “There’s nothing else to be done now. I think Mother’s put all her shock and disappointment into cleaning. We could eat off the floor in the barn, never mind the house. She’s barely slept in days.”
Isaac nodded to the makeshift tent built on the side of the house covering the long tables, themselves draped with white cloths to protect the place settings. “It looks nice.” He grinned. “And her fried chicken is the best in Zebulon.”
“Hi, Isaac!” Mary called.
Isaac turned and gave her a wave, his gaze automatically going to David behind her. He watched David help his mother down from the buggy while his other sisters piled out. When Mary followed his gaze, Isaac wheeled back around.
“So.” Mervin grinned. “Are you going to ask her to the table tonight for the feast and singing?”
“Uh…I dunno.” No.
Mervin huffed. “Isaac, what are you waiting for?”
“Nothing! I just hadn’t thought about it. Things have been so busy.”
“David’s really working you hard, huh?”
Isaac ducked his head and swiped at invisible lint on his broadcloth pants, trying to block out the fragments of memory that took over his mind. “I guess.”
He was on all fours on the floor in the workshop at June’s, a cushion under his knees and electric light bright all around. So exposed. A thrill shot up his spine. “Are you sure she won’t come out here again?”
“The house is dark. She’s asleep.” David spread Isaac’s ass open, pressing his cock to Isaac’s hole. “Do you want to stop?”
Moaning helplessly, he shook his head. “Don’t stop. I want…”
David leaned over him, pushing inside, exhales hot on Isaac’s neck. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me forever.” Bold English words.
Thrusting in deep, David gasped. “Yes, my Isaac. Yes.”
Mervin laughed. “I swear, Isaac, it’s like you don’t want to get a girlfriend at all.”
Isaac’s laugh was too loud. “Of course I do. Are you asking Sadie?”
“You bet!” His face brightened. “Weddings don’t count as dates, so we get an extra one.”
“Mervin!” His mother called sharply. “It’s almost eight. Time to go to John’s.”
He sighed. “Guess I’ll see you later.” He turned toward his older brother’s house, which stood some few hundred yards away.
There was so much cooking and work for the women to prepare the two large meals of the day that it would be too much to also hold the ceremony in Mervin’s parents’ house. Fortunately John and his wife lived close at hand.
“Think it’s too late to volunteer as a table waiter?” Isaac called as Mervin left.
Mervin laughed. “Sorry, no getting out of the service early for you either.” He loped a
way.
Isaac’s gaze immediately returned to where David unhitched Nessie, the horse that pulled his family’s buggy. Their eyes met, and David nodded, a smile playing on his lips. Isaac nodded back, trying not to smile and failing miserably. Only a few hours to go if they were lucky. He turned, and his heart skipped a beat.
Deacon Stoltzfus stared at him from outside the house, and it was as though his gaze seared right through Isaac, seeing his darkest secrets. Isaac dropped his head, pretending he hadn’t noticed as he hurried to the front door. He didn’t glance up as he passed the deacon, but he could still feel fire on his skin long after the ceremony began.
Luck was not on their side.
The initial service went four hours as the preachers expounded on Adam and Eve and the Great Flood, slowly making their way through the end of the Old Testament as was the custom for wedding sermons.
By the time Bishop Yoder asked Atlee and Ruth to stand before him if they still felt as they had earlier that morning, Isaac was barely awake. Mervin and the three other attendants—in Zebulon it was two boys and two girls—stood as witnesses as Ruth and Atlee said their vows. Ruth wore a crisply ironed dark blue dress, while Atlee was in his church best.
Bishop Yoder brought Ruth and Atlee’s hands together and declared them man and wife. Isaac thought of how the English exchange rings. Too vain for the Amish, but he didn’t see why they couldn’t wear plain bands. Of course their commitment to each other and God was what really mattered, he reminded himself. A commitment he and David would never be allowed.
Ruth and Atlee silently returned to their seats a married couple, and Isaac hoped desperately the service would end so he could bring feeling back to his rear end, which had gone numb on the hard wooden bench. His lower back twinged from sitting up straight for so many hours.
It was a Thursday, the typical eleven days after what they called being published—the engagement announcement by the deacon. While it was nice to have an unexpected day off from work, the service was interminable. Isaac needed to stretch.
And he needed to be alone with David.
He said a quick prayer of thanks as Bishop Yoder ended the service, and tried to slip through the crowd as they made their way back to the main house for lunch. Isaac caught sight of David ahead, also walking quickly. If they both made it for the first seating, the sooner they could slip away.
After quiet grace, Isaac managed to sit across from David at one of the long men’s tables, and kept his eyes on his plate for fear that everyone would see there wasn’t something right between them. The table was dotted with bowls of fruit and vases of celery stalks. One of the bowls sat in front of Isaac, and he plucked out an apple and rolled it from one hand to the other.
Mervin’s younger brother was one of the table waiters, and he poured water into Isaac’s cup, one of Mervin’s sisters following with a huge bowl of salad. Each dish was brought around and loaded onto their plates. The fried chicken really was the best Isaac had ever had, and he couldn’t resist licking his fingers after cleaning off a thigh bone.
Beneath the table, David pressed his foot hard against Isaac’s. Isaac glanced up to find David’s eyes dark with lust. With a small smile, Isaac rubbed his calf against David’s, wondering how far up between his legs he dared go.
“Isaac!”
He yanked his foot back, dropping his fork with a clatter. All eyes at the table were on him, and he realized Mary was standing behind him. She held a heaping platter of stuffing, and dropped her hand to his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you want some?” She motioned to the platter.
He nodded jerkily, glancing at David, who was suddenly very interested in his lunch. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Mary smiled. “You’re coming to the feast tonight, right?”
Naturally he was—everyone would be there. “Uh-huh.” He picked up his cup and gulped. “Thanks for the stuffing.” He smiled up at her.
She smiled faintly back. “You’re welcome.” She glanced at David, who was still engrossed in his chicken. “Well, see you later then.”
As Mary continued down the table, spooning stuffing with her lips trembling, Isaac hated himself. His appetite gone, he pushed his mashed potatoes around, not looking anywhere near David.
“Isaac,” Mark hissed from a few seats down. A frown creased his brow beneath his dark blond hair. “Why didn’t you ask Mary to sit with you at dinner?” He looked to David. “You don’t mind, do you?”
For a moment, Isaac and David’s eyes met, and Isaac’s heart clenched at the sorrow he saw.
David dropped his gaze. “I don’t know. Mary’s still young.”
The men around them murmured, and old Jacob Glick—Beanie, he was usually called, although Isaac wasn’t sure why since he didn’t grow beans—cleared his throat.
“Isn’t your Mary eighteen now? Quite old enough to date.” He gave Isaac an assessing look. “Isaac’s a hard worker, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” David shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth.
Beanie stroked his beard in the same way Isaac’s father did. “He would make a good brother for you. You need another man in the family.”
Isaac actually bit his tongue. He wanted to scream that he would never be David’s brother.
“Isaac, when are you joining the church? Isn’t it time?” Jacob asked.
He could sense the gaze of every man in earshot. Eyes on his plate, Isaac mumbled, “Soon.”
Mark shrugged. “I really don’t know what you’re waiting for, Isaac.”
Their lunch companions blessedly began discussing the recent harvest and how Zebulon would fare for winter. Isaac tuned them out. He was sorely tempted to stretch out his leg again and nudge David below the table, but kept his feet tucked under his bench as he spooned bite after bite of the generous slice of iced apple cake placed in front of him. He barely tasted it.
Mervin appeared and scooped up a dollop of icing from Isaac’s plate. He sucked his finger with a groan. “I’m starving, but Mother says everyone else has to eat first.”
“Tell us, did your sister step over the broom?” Beanie asked.
Eyes alight, Mervin grinned. “She did! I can’t believe it. Guess she was too excited to remember.”
“Poor Atlee, married to a wife too lazy to pick up a broom!” Mark guffawed.
It was one of the oldest wedding tricks, to place a broom on the floor just inside the door for when the newlyweds return to the house. Isaac could hardly believe Ruth hadn’t noticed it there or tried to come in the back door the way he remembered his sister Abigail doing at her wedding.
As Isaac thought back, he realized with a jolt that he couldn’t remember what Abigail looked like. She was just an idea, really. An approximation of the sister he’d barely known before she married and moved out. Yet Aaron’s face was etched indelibly into his memory still—pale hair and the gentle cleft in his chin. Isaac said a quick prayer that he’d never forget his brother.
Mervin was called away, and Isaac got up a minute later, making sure not to even glance David’s way. There were many men waiting for their turn to eat, including Ephraim, who grabbed Isaac’s elbow as Isaac hurried by.
“Are you going to the barn?” Ephraim asked.
“Uh-huh. Of course,” Isaac lied.
“I don’t want to go sing with the men. Why do we have to sing anyway? I hate singing.”
“You’re plenty keen to go to the singings on Sundays.”
Ephraim huffed. “Well, yeah. There are girls there.”
Isaac smirked. “Would you rather go help with the dishes once lunch is done? The men need something to do. It’s tradition.”
“It’s a stupid tradition,” Ephraim grumbled.
Isaac agreed, and he had no intention of going near the barn. He drew his coat in tight against a knife of cold wind as he slipped away beyond the house. It wasn’t far over a rolling hill to the trees, and when Isaac glanced back, he couldn’t see anyone watchin
g.
It didn’t take long to get there, and he navigated the tangle of roots and scrub easily, the path still familiar even though it had been a few years. He knew he was close when he saw the next pasture appear through the thinning trees. He made his way to the edge of the forest and looked up with a smile. The old ladder creaked, but he clambered up easily.
It was more of a tree loft than a house, with no roof other than gnarled branches and a canopy of green in the warmer months. On his knees, Isaac brushed away the dead leaves, damp must filling his nose. The pale wood was rotting in places, and wouldn’t last many more winters. Mervin’s younger siblings had apparently outgrown the tree house now, and the varnish had worn away. There were three short walls, with the fourth open to the view of the pasture.
But even better than that—a view of the tracks that slashed across the countryside.
Isaac took off his hat even though the wind that ruffled his hair was cold. He tucked his knees up and imagined how strong the wind would be on the back of a train. How many miles did the metal stretch? Up into Canada for certain, and perhaps as far as Mexico. So far beyond Zebulon’s borders. Past Ohio, which seemed so distant now, as if there were mountains and oceans between them instead of corn and wheat.
Tearing himself away, Isaac stood up and peered over the back of the tree house, squinting through the branches. He hoped David wouldn’t get lost. Perhaps he’d been caught trying to slip away, and was forced to join the other men in song. Maybe he doesn’t want to see me right now.
Isaac pulled out his pocketknife and tossed it from hand to hand, eyeing the walls of the tree house. Reaching out, he traced his fingertips over the faded letters carved into one of the boards.
Property of Mervin Miller and Isaac Byler—NO TRESPASSING ALLOWED
Closing his eyes, Isaac could hear the cicadas buzzing and feel the sweat that had dripped into his eyes as he nailed in the final board. Mervin’s face had been flushed, his reddish hair gone almost totally blond that summer—their first in Zebulon. When the train had approached, they’d stopped everything and watched it rumble by.
A Forbidden Rumspringa Page 12