by Amy Lillard
He couldn’t go up there assuming he would be able to work with horses exclusively. It might be his dream and this might be a good starting point, but he would definitely need another trade until he could build up his training business. Farming was about the only other thing he knew.
“Dat, why are you standing there staring off at nothing?”
He pulled himself from his thoughts and centered them on Andy.
“Just thinking,” he said. “Where are the girls?”
Andy gestured over his shoulder to the house. “Teacher gave them paper dolls today. They’re inside coloring their clothes.”
They must have been excited if they ran right past him without even stopping. Or maybe they had been so eager they didn’t notice him as much as he didn’t notice them.
Aaron directed him onto the porch and the plain wooden bench sitting there. “Can I talk to you about something, son?”
The words must have been exactly what Andy needed to hear. He puffed out his chest and settled down next to him. “Sure, Dat.”
“I’ve been giving a lot of thought to Ohio.”
“I know that.”
“Today I came up with a new plan.”
“Jah?”
“I’m going to go up there and see what it’s like. Just stay a few days, then come home. I think I need to get a feel for the place before I commit to moving there.”
Andy gave a serious nod. “That’s a good idea. When are we leaving?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I need you to stay with Eunice and Abner while I’m gone.”
Andy’s face fell. “But . . .” He stuttered, unable to express his true feelings and maintain his ingrained level of respect. “I don’t want to stay with them,” he finally managed.
“I thought you liked them.”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to stay with them.” He shook his head. “They don’t have a lot of room, and their mammi has a broken hip.”
“I do need to go.”
Andy nodded. “I understand.”
“And you can’t go with me.” He needed time to check things out without having his children bickering and running around. Or maybe he just needed a break. Whatever it was . . .
“Why can’t we stay here? I’m old enough to stay by myself.” Andy’s voice was leaning very much toward a whine, but Aaron didn’t mind. This was the best conversation they’d had since school let out in the summer. Aaron wasn’t sure what had happened, but just after the last day of school, Andy had turned sullen and cranky. He couldn’t say his son was full-fledged angry, but he was unhappy, and he didn’t care to hide it.
“I know that,” Aaron agreed. “But do you really want to stay here with your two sisters? All alone? With them asking you for every little thing?”
Andy’s face turned from stubborn to horrified. Just the reaction that Aaron wanted. “Can someone stay with us?”
“I don’t know who.” All of their family, what they had left of it anyway, was back in Ethridge.
“Abner’s Hannah.” Andy’s face lit up like the fireworks the city shot off each Fourth of July.
“I don’t think—”
“She’s nice, and I bet she wouldn’t mind.”
She probably wouldn’t, but would that be asking too much from an almost-friend? “I don’t know, son.”
“Please, Dat.”
Aaron could feel his resolve slipping despite his vow to remain strong.
“Please.”
He shook his head. “You can ask her,” he finally said.
Andy jumped to his feet and pumped one fist in the air.
“Hold on,” Aaron said. “You can ask her, but that doesn’t mean she’ll say yes.”
His son grinned, showing the spaces on each side of his mouth where teeth were missing. The new adult teeth had just broken the skin, the small peaks of white barely visible. “She’ll say yes,” he said with supreme confidence. “I know she will.”
* * *
Of course Hannah said yes, and Aaron started planning out his trip to Ohio.
“I think it’s sort of romantic,” Gracie said, plopping the laundry basket on the ground between them.
“There’s nothing romantic about it at all,” Hannah groused. Gracie had a tendency to make more out of things than needed making. “I’m going over there to stay with his children so he can go to Ohio.” And decide where his life should be. Nothing romantic about that at all.
“It is.” Gracie snatched up the first shirt and practically danced it around in a circle.
“Seriously, cousin.” Gracie needed to get her head out of the clouds before she wound up with a broken heart. Or worse. What had happened to pragmatic Gracie?
“Oh, pooh.” Gracie gave an exaggerated pout, then began to hang the clothes on the line. “The closer you are, the more chance that something can happen between the two of you.”
Hannah had mulled over that very prospect. But it could only be if Aaron decided not to move to Ohio and Brandon would agree to stay in Pontotoc. She wasn’t even sure that was possible. Well, he could agree to stay, but she wasn’t sure what the bishop might think of that. Hannah couldn’t imagine her tech-loving son being able to give up his phone and other devices to get back to basic living with her family. It just didn’t seem possible. If he didn’t convert, she couldn’t see the bishop allowing him to stay in an Amish home indefinitely.
And so her thoughts went around in a circle. She couldn’t allow Brandon to be on his own, and that left years before she could go back to the church. If she even decided that she wanted to.
“What are you thinking about?” Gracie asked.
Hannah shrugged and grabbed another shirt for the line. “Nothing really.”
“That sounded like a lie if I have ever heard one.”
“I think Aaron is an amazing man,” Hannah started.
“I knew it.” Gracie jumped up and down in place.
“I might even be in love with him.” She was, no doubt about it.
“I knew it,” Gracie squealed.
“But there are too many obstacles that stand in our way.”
Gracie’s jubilant mood immediately fell. “You’re not even going to give this a try?”
“Just so I can get my heart broken? No, thank you.”
“But . . . but . . . but . . .” Gracie sputtered.
“There are no buts.”
“Then why is he going to Ohio?”
Hannah retrieved another shirt and pinned it to the line. “He’s going to Ohio to see if he likes it there.”
“And if he does?”
Just the thought sent Hannah’s heart plummeting to her feet. “Then he’ll move there.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then he’ll come back here, I guess.”
“And ask you to marry him?”
Hannah shook her head. “I wish it were that simple. I really do. But even if he asked me tomorrow, I wouldn’t be able to marry Aaron Zook.”
“Why not?” Gracie’s words were muffled around the two clothespins stuck in her mouth.
“Let’s see. The biggest is I’m not a member of the church.” But she couldn’t become one if Brandon wouldn’t be allowed to stay with her. How could she do that to her only child? She couldn’t. Plain and simple. Only her love for him could play a part in that decision.
But she had made her choice years ago. Right or wrong, she would have to stand by it now.
Chapter Sixteen
“Mamm said if we caught five fish today she would fry them up for supper.”
Brandon glanced up from baiting his hook to give his cousin a questioning look. Joshua seemed serious enough. “No joke?”
“Why would I joke about something like that?”
Brandon shrugged. It wasn’t like he and Joshua were friends. It wasn’t like they went places together. Just fishing. But Joshua did come get him every afternoon once he had finished all his chores and Brandon was home from doing his schoolwork at
the library. Brandon didn’t have much to do at his grandmother’s house. His mother told him if he kept complaining about not having anything to do that she would arrange for him to pick up a few chores around the house. Images of himself toting wood to heat up water to wash the dishes and the laundry flashed through his head. No, thank you. He stopped complaining, and now when he got home, he waited for Joshua to go fishing.
“Does that mean I’m invited to supper?”
Joshua grinned. “Only if we can catch five today.”
“I bet we can.”
“I bet I can get to three before you.”
Brandon laughed. “You’re on.”
In the end they caught six, three each. The last two fishes were hooked almost simultaneously. Brandon’s bobber went under first, but Joshua was the first to pull his onto the bank.
They strung up the fish and headed for the house, good-naturedly ribbing each other over who actually won the bet.
“Come on.” Joshua loped up the steps, hooking one hand over his shoulder for Brandon to follow him inside. “Mamm’s probably in the kitchen.”
Brandon had never been in his uncle’s house, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. From the outside it was practically identical to the other houses on the property, same white siding and shutterless windows. The porch stretched all the way across the front, but unlike at his grandmother’s, there was no swing hanging at one end. The inside was very much like his grandmother’s house. The furniture was sturdy and wooden with only plain blue fabric-covered pillows for cushion.
There were no decorations, paintings, or pictures on the white-painted walls, and most of the light came from the many windows. A couple of oil-burning lamps sat on the side tables, much like those at his grandmother’s house. For a while he had thought that maybe this was all some sort of joke, or that his grandmother was the only one who truly lived this way, but after seeing Joshua’s house, the world Brandon had found himself in became all the more real.
Not that he would admit it, but for a day or two he pretended that he was a time-traveler who had been sent to the past. It amused him for a time, then he realized how lame pretending was and pushed the thoughts from his head. He would have to find something else to take up his time away from his studies. Never in his life had he been happier to go to school. And it had nothing to do with Shelly. She hadn’t even been there the past two days. He wondered if her parents had found out he was talking to her and now they were keeping her away from his bad influences.
He touched his lip ring with the tip of his tongue. Maybe he had taken his rebellion a little far. His mother hadn’t batted an eyelash when he came home with it. But his dad had hit the roof. Just the reaction he had been hoping for.
But Dad is gone. Dead. What use was his symbol of rebellion now?
He pushed that thought to the back of his brain and concentrated on following Joshua into the kitchen at the back of the house. They actually walked out onto the porch and into another building barely connected to the back of the house by a small stone path.
“Why is your kitchen back here?” He had never seen a kitchen outside of the house.
Joshua stopped before entering the small building. “We aren’t allowed to have running water in the house. So we put it out here.”
“This isn’t the house?” Brandon frowned. He wasn’t following this, not at all.
“Nope.” His cousin grinned. “We call this the cookhouse, and since it’s not attached to the main house, the bishop had a hard time telling us that we couldn’t have running water back here.”
Nothing like a crazy culture to make a person feel stupid. Brandon shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“There’s nothing to get. The Ordnung says we can’t have running water in our house. Because this isn’t the house, we can have running water.”
“You mean . . . ?”
Joshua grinned, then pushed his way inside.
As far as kitchens went, it couldn’t be considered modern, but when compared to what was in his grandmother’s house, this one was top-of-the-line. There was an honest-to-goodness sink, in addition to the wood-burning stove and large worktable in the center of the room. Another door was set off to the left, but Brandon didn’t have time to wonder about it as Brandon’s mother flitted over.
“You did it, jah?”
Joshua grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “I had a little help.” He gestured toward the door where Brandon hovered.
“You helped?” Anna asked.
He nodded.
“Danki,” Joshua’s mother said. “Then you must stay and help us eat them.”
A surge of pride rose in Brandon. It was weird, really. It wasn’t like she had praised him, told him how wonderful he was, but he felt like she had all the same.
“I’d love to. Thanks.”
Joshua elbowed him in the ribs and gestured toward the door leading out the back of the cookhouse. “Great. But first we’ve got to clean them.”
* * *
Brandon couldn’t say that cleaning fish was the grossest thing he had ever done, but it was close. Still, somehow that didn’t really matter. He had gone out with nothing more than a fishing pole and a couple of worms and because of his efforts—and Joshua’s too—they would have fresh fish to eat for supper. The thought went straight to his head.
“Here.” Joshua passed him a half of a lemon that had seen better days.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” The fish were cleaned, sliced and soaking in a bowl of salted ice water. Now they were washing their hands before heading over to their grandmother’s house. Brandon didn’t think his mother would care if he ate with Joshua’s family tonight, but he had to go make sure. And he couldn’t do that with fish-smelling hands.
“Wipe it against your fingers. It’ll take away the fish stink.”
Brandon eyed the lemon half. “Are you joking?”
Joshua frowned at him. “Why do you think I’m always making jokes?”
“I’m not.” Brandon laughed. “It’s just an expression. It means . . . whatever you’re telling me is hard to believe.”
“Well, believe it,” Joshua said. He lifted his fingers for Brandon to sniff. They smelled of soap and lemons, but there was no trace of fish.
“Cool.”
“Jah? Wait till you taste my mother’s fish.”
* * *
As expected, his mother was more than happy to let him go to his cousin’s for a meal. She tried not to let it show, but he could see it. He knew she wanted him to enjoy his time in Pontotoc. Fat chance, but this might be fun, just as long as she didn’t know how proud he was of having helped provide the meal for so many people.
His uncle Jim and aunt Anna had five kids. Libby was the oldest, with Joshua next. Then there were twin boys, Caleb and Michael, who were ten, and a baby that toddled around the house in a dress. They told him that the baby’s name was Samuel, but for the life of him Brandon didn’t know why they felt the need to dress him like a girl.
“Thank you for supper,” Brandon said after the table had been cleared. He had been told that it was Libby and Michael’s turn at the dishes. And everyone was talking about what they wanted to do for the rest of the evening. “It was delicious.”
“Danki,” Anna replied. Brandon had learned early on that the Amish didn’t use names like Aunt and Uncle as titles for their relations. They assured him that was the way, but it felt weird to refer to them by their first names only. Disrespectful somehow.
Danki. There was that word again. “Thank you, right?” he asked.
Anna smiled. “That’s right.”
Joshua clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll be speaking Dutch before long.”
He wanted to ask if they were Dutch or German, but held his words. He was afraid they might appear disrespectful, and after the nice evening he had spent with these new family members he hadn’t even known he had, he didn’t want to ruin it. “Yeah.” He chuckled and hoped it was appropriate.<
br />
“I want to play a game,” Caleb said. “Can we play a game?”
“What kind of game?” Anna asked.
“Tell the Truth.”
Libby nodded. “Jah. Everyone can play that.”
“Tell the Truth?” Brandon asked.
“It’s sort of a family game,” Joshua explained.
“But it’s easy to play,” Michael added.
“Okay.” Brandon wasn’t sure what to expect, but he wasn’t ready to go home yet. It was almost seven thirty, and the sun hadn’t gone down. It seemed a shame to leave when they were all still having such a good time.
The thought surprised him. He was having a good time. Who would have thought? “How do you play?” he asked.
“We go around the table taking turns asking each other questions. If you don’t want to answer the question you have to do whatever the person who asked tells you to do.”
Sounded a lot like Truth or Dare, but Brandon didn’t say so. Something told him the game would be very different when played by the Amish. He was pretty sure no one would ask him to run down the road with no clothes on, which would have been the first dare if he had played with his friends.
Everyone except his aunt and uncle took a seat around the table. Jim and Anna settled down in the living room, him reading the Bible and her working a puzzle with little Samuel.
“Brandon, you can go first,” Libby said.
He shook his head. “Nah, let someone else go first.” He really wanted to see how they played it before he started in.
“I’ll go,” Joshua said. “Caleb, I heard you were caught slipping notes to Linda Lapp during class. Tell the truth.”
Caleb turned a bright shade of pink. “What if I don’t want to say?”
Joshua seemed to think about it a moment, but his expression was so practiced that Brandon suspected that he had known what he was going to have him do from the start. “If you don’t want to tell the truth, then you have to go outside and kiss a chicken.”
Caleb swallowed hard, the pink in his cheeks replaced by a sickly color. “A chicken?”