“Anna and the girls?” David asked, his voice raw and flat.
Joseph Kauffman stepped forward. “My Katie is with them. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you. You all didn’t have to come.”
A murmur of disagreement rippled through the room, and Bishop Yoder spoke again. “Of course we’ve come. Let us go visit Mary and pray with her. She is undoubtedly in need of comfort from the Lord.”
Danielle stepped forward. “I’ll take you to her.”
Isaac willed David to look at him before he went, but David merely shuffled along after Danielle and the bishop, vanishing into the depths of the hospital. Isaac’s head throbbed, and he let Father guide him to a chair. Beyond the waiting room there was a constant clamor of shouts, beeps and activity.
Leaning over Isaac, Mother fussed with his hair. “We should get you home. You’re exhausted.”
“No, I’m fine. I want to stay.” He squirmed away from her touch. “At least until…” At least until we know if Mrs. Lantz is dead or alive.
“Where were you and David going?” Father asked.
Isaac hitched a shoulder, concentrating on breathing steadily while part of him wanted to fall to his knees and confess. “Just to the hardware store. Needed a few tools.” He couldn’t bear to look his parents in the eye. He gripped his knife inside his pocket.
Fortunately Mrs. Yoder called his parents over to where all the Amish folks were huddled together, discussing something intently. Isaac squeezed the knife and closed his eyes, wishing more than ever that Aaron was there. He tried to imagine where Aaron was right that moment. Did he live in a city? A town? Was he married? Isaac tried to imagine him almost ten years older, but couldn’t.
But what could Aaron do? He couldn’t fix David’s mother. He couldn’t turn back time for David and Isaac to make another choice. What would he say if he knew the truth? The Bible’s teachings were the same out in the world—lying with another man was an abomination. Even though Aaron had turned his back on the church, he could never accept Isaac’s true nature. Could he?
A tentative hand rested on Isaac’s arm, and he blinked at Danielle sitting beside him.
“Hanging in there?”
He nodded. It was a wonder that she had seen him and David kiss—had witnessed their sin—yet there was no judgement in her gaze. Maybe Aaron would be the same.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Uh-huh,” he replied.
“How did they all find out so quickly? I thought you didn’t have telephones.”
A ghost of a smile lifted Isaac’s lips. “You’d be amazed how fast news can spread on the Amish grapevine. And when there’s an emergency, we get our English neighbors to drive us. We—” He broke off as June walked into the waiting room with Eli Helmuth. Isaac was on his feet and moving toward her before he could think. “June.”
“Hello.” She smiled. “Isaac, isn’t it? You’re the young man who works with David.”
“You’ve met?” Mother asked, her gaze sharp.
It seemed as though his well of lies had run dry, and Isaac simply nodded. He realized he’d also used her first name, which was sure to set off alarm bells with Mother.
“Just once,” June said. “David was giving me a hand with my fence, and Isaac was a big help too.” She shook snow off her brightly colored scarf, which matched the red in her long coat.
Isaac had been back to June’s several times with David since the first, life-changing night, but it was true enough that they had once fixed a broken gate. “I’m sure David will be grateful you came.”
Eli’s voice was gravelly. “As I am grateful for the ride.”
“Oh, of course.” June waved her hand. “It’s the least I could do. I drove by the accident scene and pestered the cops until they told me the name. I went over right away. Anna thought Mr. Helmuth would want to come to the hospital.”
Eli was an older man now, probably sixty, but he was still fit and strong, his long beard only a little silvery. “Is there news?” he asked solemnly.
As the others filled him in, June made her way to Isaac. Danielle was gone, and Isaac and June sat together. “How’s Anna?” he asked.
“Upset. Angry. Worried to death. The little ones hardly made a peep.” June sighed, fiddling with the plastic clip in her light hair. It was painted to look like a butterfly’s wings. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
Isaac shook his head.
“How’s David?”
“Not good.” Isaac shivered. “He blames himself. If we’d…if we hadn’t…Mrs. Lantz asked us to take the pie for her, but we were too busy, so she and Mary went.” He whispered, “We were selfish.”
“It was an accident, Isaac. It doesn’t matter what you and David didn’t do.” She paused. “Or what you did do.”
Eyes on his knees, Isaac jerked his head in a nod as he concentrated on breathing. Does she know? Can she tell? He shuddered.
“You should get a good night’s sleep. I can drive you and your parents home if you want. They’re calling for more snow overnight, so we should go soon.”
“I can’t. I need to stay with…I need to stay.” He glanced up as a hush washed over the room. David and Bishop Yoder were back, accompanied by a small man in the same kind of green uniform Danielle wore, although he had a cap over his black hair. Scrubs, Isaac thought they were called, although he couldn’t remember for the life of him how he knew that.
The man cleared his throat. “I’m Dr. Ling. David’s asked me to speak to you about his mother. She’s in very serious condition, but we’ve stabilized her and performed surgery on her leg. She suffered a compound fracture in her right leg as well as other internal injuries, and a concussion.”
As Dr. Ling continued speaking, Isaac’s head filled with a strange buzzing, as if he was watching everyone around him from a distance even though he was sitting right there. David kept his gaze down, and Isaac silently willed him to look up, just for a moment. He could hear David’s voice clearly in his mind.
I can’t be sorry when I love you so much.
Yet standing there with Bishop Yoder’s hand heavy on his shoulder, David looked the sorriest man Isaac had ever seen.
“We should get home,” June said.
Isaac blinked. Joseph Kauffman and Eli Helmuth were speaking to David now, and David nodded blankly. Isaac blinked again at June beside him. “Is she going to be all right? I didn’t hear.”
June touched his arm lightly. “We don’t know yet. It’ll be touch and go for a while, but the doctor’s hopeful.”
“Touch and go,” Isaac repeated, his tongue thick.
Then Mother and Father were there, urging him gently to his feet. “Come along now, Isaac. There’s nothing we can do tonight but pray. You need to rest,” Father said.
Mother pressed her hand to his cheek. “You’re very pale.”
“I’ll give you a ride home,” June told Isaac’s parents.
Mother and Father shared a glance, and Father nodded. “Thank you.”
Then somehow Isaac was moving, and they were leaving the waiting room. “No. I need to stay.” He dug in his heels as they led him to the glass doors that swooped open and shut with each person that went in or out. “David…he needs…”
“Eli’s staying with him, and Martha Yoder as well.” Mother didn’t slow her pace. “There’s nothing more you can do tonight.”
“There is!” Isaac’s pulse raced, and the bright lights all around blurred. Was he crying? Why was he crying? “David!” He struggled to escape their grasp. He had to see David! Didn’t they understand? He couldn’t leave him alone. They loved each other. “I can’t go!” He looked back the way they’d come, but David was already out of sight. “No!”
“Isaac, my goodness!” Mother gripped his arm. “It’s all right, we can come back in the morning.”
But he was filled with a terrible dread that he’d never see David again. “I have to stay!”
Then Danielle was there, her hands o
n his shoulders, hard yet somehow gentle. “Isaac, you need to breathe. It’s been a very traumatic day, and it’s normal that you’re overwhelmed. Go home and rest, and I’ll tell David you asked about him. Sound good?”
Somehow Isaac found himself nodding, her calm voice settling him.
She smiled. “I’ll make sure David and Mary are okay. Go on now.”
It was snowing again, the flakes sticking in Isaac’s hair. He must have left his hat, but a moment later Mother was placing it on his head. They all squeezed into the front seat of June’s big truck, Isaac in the middle with Mother and Father on his right. June leaned over him and buckled his seat belt around his waist. She smelled like a flower, but he wasn’t sure which one. Lilac, maybe.
“There’s another belt there on the right, Mr. Byler.”
“It’s all right. We put our faith in the Lord’s protection,” Mother said. “But thank you.”
Isaac wondered if Mother would actually ask him to take off his seat belt, but she didn’t. June seemed to want to say something more, but turned the key instead. The engine roared, and Isaac could feel cold air on his face from the open vents. June fiddled with a few knobs, and the air slowed. She turned on the wipers, and they squeaked across the windshield, pushing the fresh snow away. Isaac crossed his arms in front of him so he wouldn’t dig his elbows into June or Mother.
The digital clock above the radio said it was after ten, and there were only a few other vehicles on the road. Isaac watched the lights coming toward them, the wipers slowly waving back and forth. There was warm air coming from the vents now, but he shivered.
The world felt muffled, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was at home in bed, and that the next time he woke Nathan would be snoring in his ear, the warm scent of fresh biscuits wafting up as Mother went to work, always the first one awake.
But of course he was still in June’s pickup truck, where he and David had eaten popcorn and Pepsi, and been tempted by the world. Although their true wickedness had come later that night—and almost all the days to follow.
“We should check on Anna and the girls.” Mother’s voice was too loud. “Tell them the news.”
“Yes, I told Anna I’d go back and give her an update. But if you’d rather go yourselves, I can take you.” June tapped the blinker and slowed to make a left turn.
Mother and Father looked at each other, having one of their silent conversations. Tick, tick, tick. A green arrow flashed in front of the steering wheel.
Father answered. “If you don’t mind going without us, we would be grateful. We want to get back and check on our children, and the snow seems to be worsening again.”
“I don’t mind at all. It only takes me an extra few minutes to stop by.” June slowed and made another turn toward Zebulon.
Isaac held his hands to the vent in front of him, thinking of the drifting snow that would block the outhouse door and need to be shoveled. He thought as well of the nip that would be in the air in the small hours of the night when the big stove downstairs needed more wood, everyone huddling in their beds with noses cold and feet bundled in the thick socks Mother knit.
As they neared home, Isaac tried to imagine David back at the hospital, perhaps sitting by Mary’s bedside. But he could only think of him in a reckless room of beige and orange, their bodies flushed and fervent in another life.
The Lantz house was unchanged from the previous morning, although the snow on the lane wasn’t marred by the little footsteps of David’s sisters as they skipped off to school. Isaac slowed Silver as they reached the house, and when the door opened, it was Anna who peered out.
She disappeared again, but the door was ajar, so Isaac unhitched Silver and hurried over, straightening his hat. At the threshold he paused. He was about to take off his glove and rap his knuckles on the door, but then Anna was there again.
“Just stay put and finish your breakfast. I told you, it’s only Isaac,” she called over her shoulder before pulling her dark cape around her and stepping outside. Her white cap was askew over her light hair, and she reached up to straighten it. “Sorry. It’s taken forever to get them to even take a bite. I made Mrs. Kauffman go home around midnight, and if I don’t at least keep them fed I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“It’s all right.”
There were dark smudges under her eyes, and she smiled grimly. “I don’t suppose you have any news.” She held up her hand. “Wait…” She opened the door again and closed it after peeking inside. “Just making sure. So, news?”
“No. I wanted to go back to the hospital, but I thought I should come and make sure everything was okay here first. I figured that’s what David would want me to do.”
“That’s good of you, Isaac. We’re fine. Just waiting. That English woman from down the road said she’d bring Mary home this morning. She’s been very kind. You don’t look like you got much sleep either. Did you have breakfast? I have a fresh pot of coffee on.”
“No, I’m fine. My mother already made me eat too much.” He flushed. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Anna smiled sadly. “It’s all right, Isaac.” She straightened up, taking a deep breath. “Now tell me. Do you think my mother’s going to die? You were there, right? The policeman said David and another boy were there on the road, where it happened. And you were at the hospital too. June said they were hopeful. Are you hopeful, Isaac?”
“Of course! And…and I prayed most of the night, and everyone’s praying—”
“I don’t care about prayers.” Anna huffed. “I know I shouldn’t say that, but it’s the truth. I’ve been praying, too, but it won’t change anything. I know I’m supposed to trust in God. That it would be His will. But it’s not fair. It isn’t.”
Isaac swallowed hard. “I know. But I think it was a good sign she lived through surgery. I was afraid she wouldn’t. They said it would be touch and go. Whatever that means.”
Her eyes wet, Anna blew out a breath. “Okay. Thank you. And you saw Mary? She’s really all right?”
“Yes. Physically, at least. She was in shock, but she’s okay.”
They both turned at the rattle of an approaching buggy. Isaac’s stomach lurched when he saw Mervin at the reins, Mervin’s mother beside him.
Anna sighed. “I know everyone means well, but…” She pasted on a smile as the buggy drove up. “Good morning, Mrs. Miller, Mervin,” she called.
Isaac nodded to them as they climbed down and approached. He was afraid to meet Mervin’s eyes, heat in his face as he thought of the last time they’d spoken, and what Mervin had heard in the barn. Mervin kept his gaze locked on Anna, his arms heavy with baking dishes.
“Hello, Anna.” Mrs. Miller held another dish. “I just wanted to make sure you had enough food, and Mervin insisted on driving me since the roads are still slippery this morning.”
“Thank you—that’s so kind. Please come inside. Let me help you with that.” Anna took the dishes from Mervin and ushered his mother into the house.
Mervin didn’t follow, and Isaac shuffled his boots in the snow as the silence drew out, their breath clouding in the winter air. Mervin had always had too many words to say in not enough time, but not this morning. Finally Isaac opened his mouth, and blurted the first thing that popped into his head. “How’s Sadie?”
Pale eyebrows disappearing under his black hat, Mervin answered, “She’s fine.”
“Good. That’s good.” Isaac floundered, his mind spinning uselessly. “Are you driving her home from the singing on Sunday?”
“Isaac, please stop.”
His lungs felt as though they were full of lead. “I know things have changed, but…I still…you’re my best friend,” he whispered.
Mervin lowered his voice, words urgent. “You know that if you repent, God will forgive you. There’s no sin too great. Have you tried to overcome this? If you pray hard enough, I know you can do it.”
Isaac thought of his silent prayers that morning. The first was for
Mrs. Lantz, but the second was hopelessly selfish and weak—a plea that he could be with David again. That they would find their way through this together, even though he knew in his heart the only possible life in Zebulon was apart.
Mervin went on with a glance at the house, his voice low. “I know you think you’re different, but you’re not! He has you thinking crazy things. You remember how his brother influenced those girls? They died because of him! I know this isn’t you, Isaac. It can’t be.” He clasped Isaac’s arm.
Regretfully, Isaac stepped back, and Mervin’s hand fell away. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. But it is me. David only helped me see it.”
“Helped you? He—” Mervin flushed. “Isaac, you know what the Bible says. You know how things are supposed to go. You have to join the church. Get married. I should tell the bishop everything. I might go to hell myself for keeping your secret! And what about your parents? Think of them!”
“Please don’t tell!” Isaac glanced around and lowered his voice. “Please, Mervin.”
“What are you going to do? Just keep lying to everyone? For how long?”
As Mervin’s words bore down on him, Isaac felt like the snow at his feet was quicksand. He turned and stumbled to the barn, blood rushing in his ears. He grabbed a shovel, and began clearing a path back toward the house where Mervin still stood, his shoulders slumped.
For how long?
Isaac threw the fresh snow atop the banks that already lined the walkway. Bend, lift, throw. Bend, lift, throw. Before long he panted, and sweat dampened his hair beneath his hat. He heard the clatter of Mervin and his mother leaving, and Anna called to him, but he didn’t falter. Bend, lift, throw.
What are you going to do?
As the drone of an engine approached, Isaac stopped, hands gripping the shovel so tightly the handle creaked. His chest heaved, the puffs of his breath filling the air like smoke. What would he do? For the first time he knew the answer. For the first time he said it out loud.
A Forbidden Rumspringa Page 19