A Forbidden Rumspringa

by Keira Andrews

  “GED?”

  “Sorry. It’s a test. Instead of going back to high school, I took night classes and then I passed the GED. It means you’re smart enough to have the equivalent of a high school diploma.”

  The thought of going to classes and learning about the world made Isaac smile. “Could I do that?”

  “Absolutely. Isaac, you can do anything. The sky’s the limit.”

  Aaron spoke fervently, and Isaac could close his eyes and imagine the earnest expression on his brother’s face. His hazel eyes and blond hair were so like Mother’s, but he’d always shined in a way Mother didn’t. Of course Aaron was almost thirty now. Isaac wondered if he looked like a grownup. It was hard to tell in the tiny Facebook picture. “It’s been nine years.”

  “I know. God, Isaac—I wanted to see you all again so badly, but after you moved to Zebulon I knew it would just make it worse for you. And I couldn’t come back with hat in hand to profess my sins and ask forgiveness. I couldn’t rejoin the church. I couldn’t.”

  “I know. I don’t blame you.” Isaac exhaled.

  Aaron’s voice wavered. “If I could have taken you with me, I would have. All of you. But you have to make the choice yourself. Are Mom and Dad…are they okay?”

  Isaac nodded, but of course Aaron couldn’t see him. “Yes. After you left, Mother wept, and then she tried to pretend everything was normal. Father was angry, and then he went quiet, the way he does. Ephraim was furious. I didn’t know what to feel. And now I’m going to do it to them all over again.”

  “I know how hard it is. I agonized for months before I left. Years. I knew the plain life wasn’t for me, but I tried to make it work. It didn’t do any good. Isaac, you have to be brave and live your life. You can’t stay for the sake of the family. It won’t work if it’s not what you really want. You’ll never be happy.” He took a long breath. “If you decide to stay, then that’s okay too. But it has to be what you truly want, deep inside.”

  Isaac stared at the swirled pattern of blues and greens and purples on the rug. He knew what was deep inside him. “I want to leave,” he whispered.

  Aaron’s voice cracked. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he repeated. “Then let’s get you organized.”

  “But I don’t have any money. How will I get there?”

  “I’ll pay, don’t worry. I can buy your ticket online. Hold on, let me Google…”

  “All right.” Isaac breathed in and out, in and out. I’m leaving.

  “Okay, you can get the Greyhound in Grand Forks, just across the border in North Dakota. Do you think you can get a ride there? It’s no more than an hour from where you are. You’d get the bus at six-fifty p.m. It’ll take a few days to get to California, and there are a bunch of transfers. I’d fly you out, but you don’t have any ID.”

  “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I can manage.”

  “I can’t take much time off work with no notice, but I’ll see if I can come pick you up partway. Maybe in Salt Lake City or—”

  “You don’t need to do that. I can get there on my own. I want to. Really.”

  “Are you sure? Just ask the drivers for help if you get confused, and call me if there’s a problem—no matter what time it is.”

  “We took the bus here when we left Ohio. I can do it.”

  “I know you can. When do you want to come? I need to know which day to buy the ticket for.”

  Isaac wanted to say tomorrow. But the thought of packing up and sneaking away so soon paralyzed him.

  “Isaac, it’s okay. You don’t have to decide right this second. Just let me know. It’s all up to you.”

  He exhaled. “All right.” But just as the terror started to fade, the gnawing guilt and shame rose up in him, unfurling its huge wings until Isaac thought he might suffocate. How could he take Aaron’s money and stay under his roof without telling him the real truth?

  “Isaac? Are you okay? I know this is scary. You’ll get through this. I promise.”

  He realized he was panting softly into the telephone. “There’s something else. I have to tell you something, even if makes you hate me.”

  “I could never hate you.” Aaron’s voice was strong and firm. Completely confident in the way he’d always been. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  For a minute, Isaac just breathed while Aaron waited. Then he swallowed thickly. “You remember I was working with David Lantz.”

  “Yes. But you’re not anymore.”

  Words whipped around Isaac’s mind in a jumble, and he struggled to find the right ones. “I’m not like you, Aaron.”

  “Okay. In what way?”

  “I don’t want a wife. David and I…we…” Isaac thought his chest might explode as the pressure suffocated him.

  “Is there something between you?” Aaron asked calmly.

  He pushed the words out like he was shoving against a stone in the fields. “There was. We know it was wrong, but we couldn’t stop ourselves.”

  “Are you saying you’re gay? Homosexual, I mean. That you’re attracted to other men? That you love other men?”

  Aaron said it all so easily, as though he were discussing nothing more than the weather. Isaac hunched over his knees, pressing the telephone against his sore ear. “Yes,” he whispered.

  “Then that’s the way you were born, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Not a thing. Isaac, I love you just the way you are, and so will a lot of other people. Thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you.”

  Isaac could hardly believe his ears. “You don’t think it’s a terrible sin? The Bible says—”

  “Isaac, the Bible says an awful lot of things. We can talk about it when you get here. But no, I don’t believe it’s a sin anymore. Most people here in San Francisco don’t. Attitudes are changing every day all over the country. Around the world. Gay people can get married in some states. Isaac there’s so much for you out here. Everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be great.”

  For the first time, Isaac began to believe it. “Okay.”

  “I can’t wait to see you again.”

  “Me either.” The heaviness inside faded away. “Soon. Later this week, all right? I just need a couple of days. There’s church tomorrow, so I can say goodbye to Mervin. I won’t tell him I’m going, but I want to see him before I do.”

  “I understand. What about David?”

  Although the shame and guilt had receded for the moment, now sorrow settled into Isaac in their absence. “I don’t think he’ll talk to me, but I’ll see him at least. It’s something.”

  “He doesn’t want to leave?”

  Bitterness twisted Isaac’s lips. “He does, but he’s too afraid.” He rubbed his face. “He can’t leave his mother and sisters. After what his brother did in Red Hills, it’s like he has to pay penance for that.”

  “It’s a hard thing, leaving it all behind. But if he changes his mind, I’ll buy his ticket too. There’s room here for you both.”

  “Thank you. Aaron, I…I don’t know what I’d do without you. ” He sniffled and wiped his face with his sleeve.

  “You’ll never have to find out. Call me when you know the day, and we’ll get it all arranged. I’ll see you soon, Isaac. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Bye.”

  After a moment, there was a click, and a flat noise filled his ear. Isaac looked at the phone and took a guess, pressing one of the buttons. The lights went out, and he stared at the three letters.

  END

  How long he sat there, he wasn’t sure. Then he was moving, and in the hall one of the doors led to a bathroom. The shadows were growing long, and inside, he took a deep breath and flicked the switch up with his finger. Warm light appeared overhead, and Isaac found himself staring into a wide oval mirror over the sink.

  His face was splotchy, and his hair stood up in places. He leaned in closer, examining his red and puffy eyes, glistening still with tears. “The color of amber—like somethin
g shiny and beautiful, but solid all the same.” Fighting back another wave of emotion, Isaac reached for the taps. Ever so easily, water flowed out, and he splashed his face. A towel hung from a ring on the wall, and he blotted his skin dry.

  Isaac rolled his shoulders and gazed at himself in the mirror. It was the first proper look he’d had since leaving Red Hills, not counting snatched moments here and there. Now he could stare at himself for hours if he wanted, with no one telling him he was too proud. But June was downstairs, probably wondering what he was up to.

  He looked for another minute, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He searched his reflection, although he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure who he was. “But I’m going to find out,” he murmured. With a deep inhale, he stood up straighter and flicked off the light.

  The smell of warm chocolate wafted through the air, getting stronger as Isaac reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “In here!” June called.

  Following the sound of her voice, Isaac found the kitchen. June stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Two mugs waited on the counter.

  She nodded to the round table. “Have a seat, hon. It’s just about ready.”

  He did, peering around the room. The tall refrigerator hummed in one corner, and the open pantry was stuffed with food. There was a window over the double sink, with yellow curtains that were practically see-through. On the wall by the table a pad of paper hung. It said To do, and the paper was in a wooden frame carved with the same flowers as the sign in the entryway. David was everywhere in this house, and for a crazy moment, Isaac wondered if he could ask David to make him something to take to San Francisco.

  When June placed one of the mugs in front of him, Isaac wrapped his hands around it gratefully. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. So, how did it go?”

  “Good. I’m…I’m leaving. Later this week. Aaron said he can buy a bus ticket for me on the computer? That is, if you can drive me to Grand Forks.”

  “I’ll drive you anywhere you need to go.” Her smile was unmistakably sad. “We don’t know each other well, but I’ll miss you. And I know David will.”

  Isaac drank his cocoa so he wouldn’t have to say anything. It burned his tongue.

  June sighed. “David’s torn up inside. I know you are too. He’s never talked about things between you, and I’ve never asked. But it was plain as day to me. You boys were very close for a time. But not now.”

  “No.” Isaac swallowed hard. “Not now.” He gripped the mug. “I told Aaron. That I’m…you know.” He glanced up at June. “You know what I mean, right?”

  She squeezed his forearm. “Yes, I know. That was very brave of you. I’m of the firm belief that we’re all just as the good Lord made us, and that love comes in all shapes and sizes. And there’s nothing wrong with it.”

  Isaac smiled, his dry lips cracking at the corners. “That’s what Aaron said.”

  “Well, he sounds like a smart fellow, your brother.” She took a sip of cocoa. “Now, as I told you, I’m happy to drive you to Grand Forks or anywhere you want to go. But I have one condition.”

  “Of course.” Isaac nodded.

  “See David before you leave. Tell him where you’re going, and see if you can’t talk him into going with you.” Her eyes glistened. “I know, I know—it has to be his choice. But just try, Isaac. If he stays in Zebulon, I’m afraid for what will become of him. Joining the church and getting married to a woman—it’s not what he wants. I think it’ll kill him bit by bit, and it breaks my heart.”

  Isaac blinked rapidly. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

  “All right, we have a deal.” She swiped at her eyes. “Let’s finish our treat, and then you’d better get back home. You’ve got big plans to make.”

  As he looked to the future, there were too many conflicting feelings battling within him, so Isaac closed his eyes and concentrated on just that moment, with cocoa sweet and warm on his tongue.

  This is my last day in Zebulon.

  Isaac stared at the ceiling, listening to Nathan’s racket beside him. It was still dark outside, but he could faintly hear Mother and Father stirring in their bedroom. Another Sunday begun. He’d go to church, and see all the people he’d known his entire life. He’d see Mary and Mervin. He’d see David.

  Isaac squeezed his eyes shut at the thought that it could very well be the last time. He’d get David away from the others at lunch, and he’d beg him to leave. Not because June made him promise, but because he would regret it always if he didn’t try again. Perhaps he was a pathetic fool. He shivered and tugged the quilt up to his chin. David had rejected him. He’d made his choice. But maybe…

  No. Isaac couldn’t let himself hope. He’d ask him, but he knew David’s answer already.

  He’d slept fitfully after deciding on his plan. Mother and Father would expect him to go to the singing, but he’d pretend to get sick that evening. Mary and Anna could get a ride home with someone else. Isaac couldn’t stop a nasty smirk. Or David will have to drive them and leave his courtship of Grace for the next singing.

  During the singing, Isaac would go to June’s to arrange the bus ticket and ask her to pick him up at the end of the lane on Monday afternoon to get to Grand Forks with plenty of time to spare. There wasn’t much he was taking with him, and he could invent an excuse if someone happened to see him with his sack. He had a little more than thirty dollars saved up, but it would be enough as long as Aaron could buy the bus ticket.

  He’d leave the note on his pillow Monday afternoon, and no one would see it until it was too late. It was unforgivable, but it was better than burdening his family with the truth. He hoped they could all understand. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. Mother and Father never would, and he couldn’t blame them.

  But he hoped Katie and his brothers could forgive him one day. Especially Ephraim. Ephraim would probably hate Isaac for leaving him behind. But he wasn’t even seventeen. Maybe once he could go to the singings and date, Ephraim would settle down. Maybe.

  Tomorrow Isaac would spend one last morning at home milking and doing chores before walking away. But today he’d be with his community. The people of Zebulon weren’t perfect, but they were good and kind for the most part.

  Huddled in his bed with his brothers still sleeping, Isaac wondered what kind of people he would meet out in the world. When he thought of June, and Danielle the nurse, his stomach settled. There were good people in the world. And at least with Aaron to guide him, the prospect was slightly less terrifying.

  Would the English like him? Would he seem strange to them? Would he fit in? He could take classes the way Aaron had. Maybe he could go to college too. To study what, he had no idea. He supposed he could study anything he wanted. The possibilities were endless—and overwhelming. Isaac’s pulse raced, and he tried to focus. Get through today first. From the barn, he heard the rooster crow.

  Here we go.

  Breakfast was like any other, but he savored every bite of the scrapple mother had made, the pork, cornmeal, and flour concoction flavorful and filling. Yet by the time he arrived at Samuel Schrock’s barnyard for church, his breakfast was a stone lodged in his stomach. He’d brought the rickety spare buggy as usual, and took his time unharnessing Silver, petting her neck.

  It had snowed a few more inches overnight, and the sky was its familiar gray, the wind biting. The men socialized by the barn in quiet groups as usual, the women and girls already inside the house. As he scanned the men, immediately Isaac knew the slope of David’s shoulders; the swell of his backside, and narrowness of his hips.

  He was struck by the desire to race through the snowdrifts and throw his arms around David, to breathe in the sawdust that always lingered on him.

  Instead he squared his shoulders and marched over to where Mervin, Mark and a few other young men chatted. They all greeted him with nods and understated smiles appropriate for a Sunday, although Mervin barely jerked his head. M
ark glanced between them with a furrowed brow, and Isaac willed him not to ask. Fortunately it was soon time to fall into line and file inside.

  When they had all removed their coats and hats and squeezed onto the benches stuffing the house, Isaac automatically looked right to catch a glimpse of David. David’s hair was over the tips of his ears now, and before too long it would cover them completely. He’d grow a beard, and carefully shave the top half of his chin and above his lip. He would be a proper Amish man.

  Acid in his mouth, Isaac looked away.

  Beside him, Mervin was a wall of tension. Isaac didn’t dare glance at him, and wondered if Mervin would even speak to him long enough for Isaac to try and make peace and say a sort of goodbye. Perhaps there would be no peace with his oldest friend.

  Naturally the service was endless. While the congregation sung the dirge-like German hymns, the preachers took the applicants who were working to join the church into the Obrote—on this day the Schrock’s kitchen, which had a door. Isaac watched David walk out with the others. The time was nearing when they would join the church officially. At least Isaac wouldn’t have to witness that.

  But I still might convince David to leave with me. He shouldn’t hope, but the kernel of light in Isaac’s heart still said maybe, maybe, maybe.

  By the time one of the preachers wrapped up the long sermon, Isaac fidgeted in his seat. Whatever would come from this day, and his pleading with David, he wanted it done. He breathed a sigh as the preacher stepped back, but then Bishop Yoder stood before them. His white hair had grown wispier, and his narrow face was solemn.

  “There are five here today who will become our brothers and sisters in Christ.” He made a motion toward a bench Deacon Stoltzfus hefted in from the kitchen and placed at the front of the congregation.

  Along with the others, David stood. Isaac’s breath caught. No, no, no. Not yet!

  As always, the benches for church were all crammed into the living room where they would fit, and people craned their necks, shifting this way and that as David and the four others made their way to the front and sat.