by Jan Drexler
“Davey, ne.” She reached out to him, but he only turned and waved.
“I’m going to show them where to camp. I’ll see you there.”
As the wagon left, Naomi saw the other woman’s arm around her boy’s shoulders. The other woman’s cheek resting on her boy’s head. And then they were out of sight, blocked by the wagon as it rumbled down the road.
Cap turned her toward himself and embraced her. She buried her face in his shirt for a moment, and then straightened, pulling away from him.
“I need to follow them. I need to watch out for Davey. They might—” What? Keep driving with him? Take him away from her?
Steal his love.
Cap’s jaw clenched and unclenched. He was as upset as she was. “I’ll go with you. I know you want to stay close to Davey.”
Mattie gave her a quick hug and Naomi clung to her, holding back her tears.
“It will be all right,” Mattie said. “He knows you are his real mother. You are the one who loves him.” Mattie gave a last hard squeeze, and then let her go.
Naomi hurried down the road to their farm. The whitewashed house surrounded by the green grass and gardens looked foreign with the strange wagon in the yard. Daed had led them to a spot between the chicken coop and the house. She and Cap stopped, watching Davey running and playing with the Hinklemann children.
Her knees shook and she leaned into Cap. “He’s lost to us. He’ll never want to come back to me.”
Cap’s grip around her shoulders was firm. “You don’t know that.”
“Look at him,” Naomi said, barely able to speak. Cap leaned close to catch her whisper. “Have you ever seen him so happy?”
Mamm walked past them. “Naomi, come help me. We’ll slice bread, cheese, and sausage for a cold supper tonight. I’m sure the Hinklemanns are hungry after traveling all day.”
Naomi turned to Cap. “I can’t just leave him.”
“I’ll stay here and watch him. I’ll take care of him.”
Supper was anything but the peaceful meal Naomi was used to on Sunday evenings. The Hinklemanns spoke German, and while Naomi could understand the language that was so similar to her own Deitsch, they spoke so quickly that she couldn’t always follow their conversation.
“You say you met Shem Fischer in Fort Wayne?” Daed asked, raising his voice above the shouts of the children. Davey’s voice was just as loud as the others’, but Wilhelm and Greta ignored them, as if their children’s behavior was normal.
“A day’s drive from Fort Wayne, near Ligonier. We stayed in the same tavern there.” Wilhelm tore at his bread with his teeth. “We were warned that a gang of bandits lurked in the area and would steal from folks camping along the road.” He stuck a slice of cold sausage in his mouth with the bread. “We were glad to meet him when he told us about Davey.”
Greta stared at her plate, eating small bites. The children ran to the table.
“I want bread, Mama.” The youngest one, the one who looked like Davey, pushed his way to the table between his parents.
“Hush now, Karl.” Greta scooted over on the bench and helped the boy into a seat. “There is no call to act like a wild animal. Sit and eat your supper.”
Davey climbed on the bench next to Naomi, across from Karl. “Memmi, Karl is nine years old, and his birthday is in June too. So he is one year older than I am.”
“Ja, liebchen.” Greta leaned toward Davey. “Just the right age to be Karl’s younger brother.”
The bread turned sour in Naomi’s mouth and she gave Davey the rest of her supper. The other woman’s eyes were shadowed in spite of the smile she gave Davey, as if she was worried about something.
Naomi glanced down the table toward Cap. He held a piece of bread in his hand, but wasn’t eating it. He listened to the conversation between Wilhelm and Daed, but he watched Davey. When he caught her gaze, he gave a tight smile and a nod. He shared her fears.
Supper was cleaned up and Naomi took Davey inside the house with her after evening prayers. Daed had included their guests in the bedtime ritual and the other family had sat silently, listening.
“Why can’t I sleep outside with Karl? He said I could.”
“You’ll see him in the morning.” Naomi scrubbed at the dirt on Davey’s chin with a wet cloth. “I don’t think they plan to leave tomorrow, so Karl can help you with your chores.”
“Can I take him to Jacob’s? I want to show him the sheep, and Jethro.”
“We’ll see what the morning brings.” She turned him toward the ladder and his bed in the loft.
“Memmi, are they really my aunt and uncle and cousins?” His blue eyes, so like the other children’s, tugged at her heart.
“They say they are. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Do you want them to be?”
His grin said it all. “If they are, then they’re my real family. All my own.” He climbed the ladder, leaving her behind.
Naomi went into her room under the loft and closed the door. She didn’t need a light to change into her sleeping clothes or brush her hair. She eased open the shutters and sat on her bed, watching the Hinklemanns’ camp as she ran the brush through her hair, over and over. Wilhelm had erected a lean-to against the wagon using a canvas sheet. The younger children had taken their blankets under the shelter and soon settled into sleep. Franz, the oldest boy, sat with his parents for a while, then took his own blanket and crawled under the wagon.
Greta and Wilhelm remained, sitting at the table Daed had set up for their supper. Their voices were low, too low for Naomi to make out any part of their conversation, but they seemed to be arguing.
The rope of entwined fear and anger that had been writhing inside her since the Hinklemanns had interrupted her pleasant Sunday afternoon tightened into a strangling knot, forcing hot tears that trickled down her cheeks. How dare they come here to steal her son! But how could she stop them? She turned possibilities over in her mind.
Perhaps she could take Davey and hide. They could go to the spot along the river where Crow Flies stayed, deep in the woods. No one would find them there.
That other woman, Greta, seemed to love her children. Maybe if Naomi insisted that she couldn’t take Davey unless she left one of her own . . . but ne. That wouldn’t do.
Only something tragic would stop them from pursuing this idea of taking Davey from her, from his real family. Her mind traveled a trail that led to a knife from the kitchen and a slaying in the dark wagon.
Naomi shook herself awake, the rope twisting inside her like a snake, reaching toward that dark place where temptation had led her. She shuddered, wiping her palms on her nightdress to rid herself of the bloody stains that didn’t exist. She hadn’t done it. She hadn’t.
Covering her face with her hands, Naomi tried to banish the thought, the . . . dream, but it wouldn’t leave her. She hadn’t killed the Hinklemann family, but she could—that was the horror. She could because Davey was at risk. She was a mother. A mother protecting her boy. Nothing else mattered.
Cap’s words penetrated her swirling thoughts, but she pushed them away. He was wrong. She hadn’t put Davey in the place reserved for God. That would make him an idol, and that would never happen. She would never put Davey above her obedience to the church, to the Ordnung. To God.
She peered through the half-open shutter to the starry sky above the black outline of the barn roof. God. Cap believed that God knew what happened to them, cared about them, and even caused things to happen to bring them closer to him. But to her, God had always been like the stars. Pure. Untouchable. Distant.
Now, though, facing something she could never get through on her own . . .
Sinking to her knees beside the bed, Naomi closed her eyes and looked inward to the blackness. Nothing. Nothing was there. There was no one to pray to, no one to ask for help. She was alone, at the mercy of the God out there. She had loved her boy too much, had set him on the throne and worshiped him. And now God in heaven was going t
o punish her. She had broken the commandments. She had sinned and now she would lose her boy. And there was nothing she could do.
21
Cap woke with a start on Monday morning. He hadn’t thought he would sleep at all during the night, but at some point he had drifted off, leaning against the cabin wall as he sat on his bed. Early as it was, Cap roused himself to complete wakefulness by splashing cold water over his head. He would feed the horses, then head over to the Schrocks’. He had work to do, but with Davey’s future hanging in the balance, he had no desire to be anywhere else.
Even before he was halfway through the woods between his farm and the Schrocks’, he heard the noise of children shouting in play. He paused as he reached the edge of the trees and watched Davey with the Hinklemann children. Davey was the youngest of the group, but Karl and his older brothers let him keep pace with them in their game of tag. The younger girls joined in and their shrieks added to the noise.
The game drifted in Cap’s direction and Davey saw him.
“Cap!” he yelled, his voice hoarse from playing. “Come play with us!” He ran full tilt toward the woods, skirting a girl’s outstretched hand and coming to a full stop two feet away, panting with his hands on his knees.
Looking around the farmyard, Cap didn’t see any of the Schrock family. “Are your folks up?”
Davey nodded, still breathing hard. “Grossdatti and Henry are choring in the barn. Memmi and Grossmutti are fixing breakfast.”
Wilhelm Hinklemann sat at the table where they had eaten supper the night before, puffing on a pipe. Greta was folding blankets and a large canvas sheet with the help of the two oldest daughters.
“Have you done your chores?”
Davey’s breath puffed as he straightened up. “Karl was going to help me, but he wanted to play tag first.”
Cap grasped the boy’s shoulder. “So the chickens go hungry while you play?”
A glance toward the henhouse told Cap that his hunch had been right.
“Is this the way we work? Do we fill ourselves with our own pleasures before we see to our responsibilities?”
Davey kicked at a clump of grass. “Uncle Wilhelm said we could play. He said we’re only children once.”
Cap felt his jaw clench. “You have your chores to do. You can play after they are done.”
The boy looked over his shoulder at the game that continued without him. “I’d rather play.”
Squatting down so that he was eye to eye with Davey, Cap grasped his shoulders. “You need to do your chores first. You will have plenty of time to play with Karl this afternoon. I don’t think they plan to leave until tomorrow.”
“All right.” Davey kicked the grass once more, then shuffled toward the chicken coop.
“Davey,” Karl called. “Where are you going?”
Davey walked backward as he called back, “Doing my chores. Do you want to help?”
“Nein.” Karl jumped aside as his sister ran toward him, her hand stretched out. “I’m going to play.”
Cap saw the struggle within Davey as he watched the game, then glanced at the henhouse. He sent Cap a pleading look, but Cap only nodded toward the waiting chickens.
Once Davey had gone in to feed his charges, Cap continued on his way to the house. He nodded a good morning to the Hinklemanns, and then stepped onto the porch. Through the open door he could see Lydia and Naomi bustling between the stove, kitchen shelf, and table, fixing a meal that would feed an entire church.
He stopped in the open doorway. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Lydia gave him a smile of thanks. “Could you make sure the outside table is clean, and that there are enough seats for everyone?”
“For sure.”
Naomi glanced at him, her eyes red-rimmed in her pale face. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all.
Cap grabbed the broom from where it leaned against the porch wall and made his way to the long table Eli and Henry had constructed yesterday out of boards from the barn and sawhorses. When he started sweeping the table’s surface with the broom to remove the twigs, leaves, and other litter that had fallen onto it overnight, Wilhelm knocked the ashes out of his pipe. Pocketing it, he reached for the broom.
“I can help with that.”
“Denki.” Cap turned his attention to the makeshift benches. He turned each board over to a dry surface and replaced it on the two lengths of logs that held it off the ground along the table.
“Is breakfast almost ready?” Wilhelm patted his stomach. “Such a small meal last night. My stomach is growling this morning.”
Cap squelched his rising irritation. This family wasn’t Amish, so would have expected a full, cooked supper on a Sunday night instead of the cold meal of meat, cheese, and bread they had enjoyed. “Lydia and Naomi are working on it. It will be ready when the men are done with the chores.”
“Ja, ja, ja.” Wilhelm looked toward the barnyard where his team of six horses munched on the hay that had been thrown out for them. “Eli and Henry were already working hard when we woke this morning.” He finished sweeping off the table and handed the broom back to Cap. “These Schrocks, they are a good family?”
Cap nodded. “The best. Eli is a good man.”
“They have taken good care of our Davey, then?”
The words hit hard in an unexpected blow. Our Davey.
“They are Davey’s family, and this is his home.”
Wilhelm nodded, stroking his short beard as he took in the sights of the freshly whitewashed fences, the large barn, and the comfortable house. “We will provide for him just as well when we reach our new home in Wisconsin.”
Cap suppressed his shaking hands. “You plan to take him with you? Away from his family?”
Wilhelm smiled at him. “Ja, ja, ja. We are his family. Of course he will come with us.”
Cap’s stomach roiled. No wonder Naomi hadn’t slept last night. “Have you asked Davey if this is what he wants?”
“We will discuss it at breakfast this morning.” Wilhelm’s smile faded when he saw Cap’s frown. “We want what is best for the boy, and it is best that he lives with his own family. It is what his parents would have wanted.”
Cap bit back his arguments. This was Eli’s, Naomi’s, and Lydia’s decision to make, not his. Beyond Wilhelm’s shoulder, Eli and Henry emerged from the barn.
“Chores are done. I will help bring the breakfast out to the table.”
He turned to walk toward the house, welcoming the respite from Wilhelm’s assumptions. He set the broom back in its place with careful motions. A black pit gaped in his mind, pulling him in. He couldn’t let this family take Davey away. He couldn’t lose Davey too.
Leaning one arm against the doorframe, Cap took a deep breath. He whooshed it out, and then took another. For the last few weeks, he had enjoyed seeing God’s blessings all around him, in every task he put his hand to, the growing crops, and in his relationship with Naomi. But this—
He shook his head. Had he been so wrong? Could God have a purpose in tearing Davey away from them? Or was it just bad luck that had brought the Hinklemanns to their neighborhood?
Naomi’s and Lydia’s voices floated out the door. This would devastate Naomi. He knew the terrible emptiness of losing a son . . . if only there was some way he could protect her.
Naomi took a sip of her coffee and moved the eggs around on her plate with her fork. Davey had taken a seat at the other end of the table from her, between Karl and the youngest girl, Lauraine. He laughed at Karl’s jokes and poked Lauraine until she giggled. He was enjoying himself.
Cap sat across the table from her, watching her face with a worried frown. She took another sip of coffee and tried to give him a reassuring smile, but her face was made of wood, just like her stiff arms, and her legs, and her heart. She felt nothing. Nothing.
“We are thankful for your hospitality,” Wilhelm was saying. “We will be leaving at noon today.”
“Where are you planning to settle?”
Daed asked.
“Wisconsin. My cousin lives in Milwaukee and I will work with him there.”
Mamm dropped her fork. “In a town?”
“Ja,” Greta said, smiling. “A growing city like Milwaukee provides many opportunities for our children.”
Wilhelm blew on his coffee, even though it was nearly cold. He took a large swallow, then set the cup down on the table. He kept his eyes on it as he said, “We will take our nephew with us.”
Naomi’s stomach lurched, and she was glad she hadn’t eaten anything. This was what she had feared, what she knew was their intention, but the words still fell like rocks into a pond. The ripples were felt all the way down the table to the children. Davey looked at her, then at Wilhelm.
“You want to take me with you to Wisconsin?”
Wilhelm beckoned to him. “Come here.”
Davey moved around the table until he stood between Wilhelm and Greta, with Wilhelm’s arm around him.
“You are our nephew, and already part of our family. We would like to make you our son. Karl’s brother.”
Davey’s eyes grew round.
Greta pulled him close to her. “Would you like that, Davey? You will be with your own family again.”
“My own family.” Davey’s eyes shone with tears as he threw his arms around Greta. “My own family.”
Naomi couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. She was his mother. He had a family. Why was this happening?
Wilhelm cleared his throat and turned back to Daed. “Does Davey have any, um, papers? Or anything else that he would want to bring with him?”
“I have my chest,” Davey said. “It has papers in it.”
Daed nodded. “Henry, go get Davey’s chest.”
As Henry left, Naomi found her voice. “Davey.” She reached one hand toward him, but he ignored it. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Davey looked at her, his clear blue eyes as wide as his smile. “This is what I’ve prayed for. My own family. They came to find me.”
“They aren’t your ma and pa.”
Her son smiled at Greta, still enfolding him in her arms. “Ne, not Ma and Pa. But almost.”