"Now, Issachar," she said while Ethan took small breaths to keep from being overpowered by the woman's earthy smell. "The boy needs a hug or two. A body can see that plain as day in his eyes. You shaking Quakers missed the boat on that one. A growing boy needs a daily dose of loving same as food to make him into a real man:" She raised her eyebrows and gave Issachar a critical once-over. "You wouldn't want him to turn into a dried-up stick of a man like you, now would you?"
Not a bit bothered by her words, Brother Issachar laughed as he took hold of Ethan's arm to tug him free. Mrs. Davey patted Ethan's cheek before she let him go and said, "You want a little extra loving, my boy, I can hook you up with some pretty young thing. You're plenty old enough not to need your old Uncle Issachar's permission:"
Ethan's face turned red as a tomato ripe for picking. "Nay, I have no such wants"
Mrs. Davey laughed as she pinched his cheek. "So you say, but your eyes say different, dearie. Fact is, those blue eyes of yours put me in mind of a man I once knew. Hawk never got enough of anything:" She winked at Ethan. "Leastways nothing wicked:"
"Hawk?" The sound of the name sliced through Ethan.
Brother Issachar shook his head the barest bit at Ethan, but it was too late to keep from arousing Mrs. Davey's interest.
She peered at him with narrowed eyes. "So, you know Hawk? Mayhap there's reason for the blue in your eyes?"
"Nay;" Ethan said quickly, feeling little guilt at the lie. "Hawk just seems a curious name. I wondered if it was a first or last name.
"Could've been either, I suppose. Back then where we were, a person didn't tell no more than was needed about hisself. Seeing as how we weren't exactly always on the right side of the law." Mrs. Davey seemed suddenly concerned she might have said too much. She smoothed down her apron spotted with grease and sundry other stains. "I've left those days behind, don't you worry. I married Mr. Davey and the two of us lived upright as you shaking Quakers ever thought to:"
"And this Hawk? Did he end up paying for his wrongs?" Brother Issachar asked.
"If you mean did the law ever nab him, I'm saying not or he'd 'ave been swinging from a tree straightaway." Mrs. Davey pulled up her apron tail and fanned her face with it before she spoke again. "I've not seen him these many years, but I hear tell he's still making trouble down on the streets where the likes of you two shouldn't ought to go. They ain't got no use for Shaker brooms down that way, that's for sure:"
"Never fear. We'll be sure to keep our feet off those streets;' Brother Issachar said. "But perhaps you'd be interested in bartering for some of our room and board. A broom? Ajar of tonic? We'll be finishing up our sales and leaving on the morrow. You can plan on letting your room again after that"
Ethan went on out to the front stoop while Brother Issachar and Mrs. Davey made their deal. He stared at the people passing by on the street. Could he be looking straight at his father and not even know him? He didn't want to see him. He feared seeing him, but at the same time his eyes sought out each man who looked to be at least as old as Brother Issachar.
Had he lost all control of his thoughts? First, at Harmony Hill he let his heart chase after the new sister and even desired touching his lips to hers. The very thought of such was sinful. A sin that burned within him yet. And now his mind was entertaining questions about his worldly father. The devil had surely entered into him. Perhaps Brother Martin was right to have never approved him leaving the village. Perhaps he sensed some weakness in Ethan that made him know Ethan wouldn't be strong enough to stand against temptations of the flesh.
Ethan fell in beside Brother Issachar when he came out of the house. They gathered up their goods and headed toward the street without a word. Silence between them was not unusual as they had no need to fill the air between them with senseless chatter, but this silence was not easy and companionable. This silence bore down on Ethan until the weight of it made each breath an effort, as though the pack of herbs and seed envelopes he carried was ten times heavier than it was. Even so, he didn't speak. He had already spoken too readily to Mrs. Davey. He wouldn't compound his sin.
Brother Issachar didn't look to be bothered. He was the same as on any of the other days they'd gone out trading. He spoke kindly to those who stopped them, even the ones who laughed at their clothes, and most carried away some Shaker seeds or herbs. It wasn't much past mid-afternoon when a storekeeper took all their remaining stock.
Back out on the street, Brother Issachar didn't turn toward the boardinghouse. "We can take some time for the sights now that we've done our duty. It's been a good trip. The Ministry will be pleased with the profit:"
As they walked, Brother Issachar talked of how fire had burned through the town several times before the turn of the century. "Some claimed it was the Lord's punishment on the city for its wicked ways. They said the same last year when the yellow fever carried off over seven thousand of the citizens here:"
"But in that number there had to be good and bad alike, even if they were of the world:" Ethan looked over at Brother Issachar. They had stopped at a channel of water, and Brother Issachar was looking out over the water as if he wished there was a boat to take him farther to see more.
"Yea. Fevers take sweet innocent babes as well as their more sinful parents:"
"So do you think that was the Eternal Father's punishment on the parents' wrong living?" He thought Brother Martin would say so, but there were some things Ethan struggled to understand.
Brother Issachar shook his head slowly. "I cannot answer for God. You'd best ask him that question and listen for an answer.
"I can't seem to hear his answers to my questions lately;' Ethan said softly as he stared out over the water as well.
"I have sensed your troubled spirit" Brother Issachar put his hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Did hearing the name of your father of the world bring you worry?"
"Nay." Ethan spoke too quickly and then felt shame for his lie. He let out his breath and admitted, "That's not true. I don't know why I'm letting thoughts of him bother me, but I am:"
"Sometimes we must find answers before we can find peace. Do you want to go seek your worldly father? I know the streets Mrs. Davey spoke of."
"But it would be dangerous:" Ethan met Brother Issachar's eyes directly.
"There are many dangers in the world. All of them can't be avoided:" Brother Issachar's hand tightened on Ethan's shoulder. "Remember, engaged in our duty, we need fear no danger."
"Yea, Brother Martin has told me that often enough, but he also always told me to be sure I was engaged in the proper duty. Something I have not been as sure of in the past few months."
"We're all tested at times. Your questions will be answered"
"How will I know I am hearing the right answers?"
Brother Issachar smiled. "You'll know because the answers will feel right in your heart" When Ethan didn't say anything, Brother Issachar went on. "Search your heart now and we will do whatever it says"
Ethan shut his eyes. He didn't pray in words, only in spirit. And then when he opened his eyes and saw Brother Issachar's concerned look as he waited patiently for whatever decision Ethan was going to make, he knew. He didn't need to know anything more about the man whose seed had begun Ethan's life.
"Do we go to seek your father of the world?" Brother Issachar asked.
"Nay, I have no father of the world. I'm looking at my father"
For a moment, Brother Issachar seemed to be at a loss for words as he blinked back tears. At last he said, "It's not the Shaker way to speak of such family relationships, but you've always been a special gift to me:" They didn't embrace. It wasn't necessary.
As they turned to go back to their room to pack for their journey home, Ethan felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He no longer looked at those they were passing to see if he might recognize a face. That question in his heart had been answered. He would start back to Harmony Hill tomorrow and leave thought of his father behind forever.
Or so
he thought until they got back to the boardinghouse and an old man stood up from his perch on the stoop's steps and came to meet them. Even before he spoke his name, Ethan knew him.
The man stopped directly in front of them and stared at Ethan with his right eye. The left eye focused on nothing, but wandered where it willed. His eyes were no longer the deep blue of Ethan's, but rather a watered-down blue. The years had not treated him kindly. He was bent in the shoulders and lacking most of his teeth. Matted strands of gray hair hung down below his floppy felt hat. The scar Ethan remembered from years before made a jagged white path through the deep wrinkles on the man's face. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a growl. "I hear you're hunting Hawk Boyd:"
"Nay," Ethan answered. "We hunt no one"
"None except those who might want to buy our goods;" Brother Issachar added mildly. "Are you in search of some Shaker potions or seeds?"
"Shakers" Hawk Boyd spit out the word. "I've heard of the likes of you back in Kentucky. Never laid eyes on one though till now." He looked Brother Issachar up and down. The two men were probably of about the same age, but Hawk looked to be twenty years older. "I hear you dance in your churches."
"We worship through dance;' Brother Issachar said.
Hawk turned his head back toward Ethan. "And the boy here? Does he dance to the gods too like some kind of wild savage?"
"He is a Shaker."
"Does that mean he can't talk for hisself?" The man eyed Ethan before he went on. "Or has the cat got his tongue?"
'A Shaker has no need to talk simply to hear the sound of his voice;' Brother Issachar said.
Hawk let out a sound that might have been a laugh. "I think your friend might have just insulted me, boy. And don't many insult old Hawk Boyd and live to tell the tale'
"He meant you no insult;' Ethan said quickly. "Brother Issachar is kind to all he meets"
"Even a scoundrel like me?" The man raised his eyebrows and seemed to stare with one eye toward Ethan and one eye toward Brother Issachar.
"We would not know the sort of man you are"
Again the man made a sound that might pass for a laugh. "Oh, wouldn't you? Guess my reputation hasn't carried all the way to your Shaker town up in Kentucky. But take my word for it. Scoundrel is better than most call me"
When Ethan made no answer, Hawk went on. "I was in Kentucky a few times. Went there once to get my boy. He drowned in the river."
"That must have been a sorrow for you,' Ethan said. He did not want to think about this man's seed being the reason for his life.
"That it was. I aimed to make something of the boy. Turn him into a man I could be proud to call `son: But then the river claimed him, or so I always thought" He slowly licked his lips as he considered Ethan. "But now of Velda in there tells me your name is Boyd just like mine. Ethan Boyd. Weird thing is that's the name my crazy wife gave my boy. Ethan. Now that seems to be more than a coincidence to me. How about you, boy?"
"I don't have a father;" Ethan said.
"You might wish that was true, but everybody has a father. Everybody. Even Jesus Christ. And I'm thinking you're looking at yours whether you want to be or not" Again the choking cough sound that was Hawk's laugh. He looked to be enjoying Ethan's discomfort at the thought of having him as a father. "That old preacher man you was living with when I came back and stole you away wasn't your papa, and this sorry excuse for a man beside you ain't your papa. That's me and you should be proud of it. Proud that my blood is running through you, giving you some life"
"I have no father;' Ethan repeated coldly.
Hawk punched Ethan hard in the chest. "Don't you go being disrespectful of your old pa."
Ethan stumbled backward, but stayed on his feet. Brother Issachar stepped between him and the man. "What do you want from us?"
"My son:"
"Even if he is your son as you say, he's a man now. He owes you nothing:" Brother Issachar spoke firmly.
"Maybe he doesn't, but maybe you Shakers do. For stealing my son:" A crafty look slipped across Hawk's face. "You owe me plenty for the work he did for you all these years when he shoulda been working for me"
"I can check with our elders when we get back to Kentucky to see if some settlement might be made with you for the loss of your son;' Brother Issachar said.
"I don't reckon I'm that patient. I think as how you can just pay me now."
"What payment would you deem fair?"
Hawk twisted his mouth to the side as he stared at Ethan, sizing him up the way a man might look at a mule he wanted to buy. "He's grown into a fine, strapping boy from the scrawny pup I thought drowned all them years ago. I doubt you have half enough money on you to make a fair payment to me, but you hand over what you got and we'll consider the debt paid:"
Brother Issachar reached into his pocket and pulled out a few loose bills and coins and held them out to Hawk.
Hawk laughed shortly and knocked Brother Issachar's hand aside. "You ain't fooling me, preacher. Velda's done told me you been out trading. You got more money than that or my name's not Hawk Boyd"
"That money is not ours to give;" Brother Issachar said. "It belongs to our family of Believers at Harmony Hill:"
I ain't caring who it used to belong to:' Hawk fingered the knife hilt sticking up out of his belt. "It's mine now. So hand it over unless you want to fight me for it:"
"We are peaceable men. It is not our way to fight" Brother Issachar kept his eyes on Hawk's face.
"No fighting. And no women neither, I've heard:" Hawk glanced back over at Ethan. "I must be wrong about you being my son. No Boyd I ever knew could live like that. A man might as well be dead:'
"We are dead. Dead to the world;' Ethan said.
"Dead to the world, but still walking and breathing, huh? Well, I guess I kin fix that part of it if you don't hand over the money." He pulled his knife out in one swift move and stuck the point of it up under Ethan's chin. "Now, what do you say, preacher man? You either pay for him or he stays here with me. Leastways his body."
Ethan's breath caught and froze in his chest as he stared into Hawk's face. He tried to take a step back, but the tip of the knife pricked his skin.
"Best stand still, son, unless'n you're tired of living;' Hawk said.
"You surely wouldn't kill a man you think might be your own son.
Ethan had never heard Brother Issachar sound so frightened. Not the day the tree fell the wrong way in the woods and mashed their water jars. Not the day the rabid skunk charged at them from the bushes. Not the day he found Ethan on the riverbank. He was always in control of whatever befell them, but Hawk Boyd with his knife against Ethan's chin had control now.
"A Shaker son's no good to me. Might mess with my reputation if folks knew my son was the next thing to a preacher. But you give over the money and we'll go back to being family."
Brother Issachar reached into his other pocket and pulled out a pouch of money. He thrust it at Hawk. "Here, man. Take it, but leave the boy be:"
"A little zigzag down the boy's face might give him a little character:" Hawk moved the knife up to lightly trace a line down Ethan's cheek.
"Take your money and go;' Brother Issachar almost shouted as he pushed the money toward Hawk. "The boy has done you no harm:"
"He carries my seed"
Ethan stared into the man's face. Anger flashed through him, burning away the fear, and it kept burning. He had never felt such rage. This man, his father, despising them and playing with him the way a cat might torment a mouse. Ethan threw up his arms and shoved the man back as easily as brushing off an annoying fly. The point of the knife cut into his cheek, but he hardly felt it. "I carry nothing of yours:' The words exploded out of him.
Ethan kicked the man in the shin as he fell backward and would have kicked him right in the face if Brother Issachar hadn't grabbed him and jerked him back.
"Brother Ethan!" he said. "Take control of yourself'
Brother Issachar's words came to him as if from far away,
but they did penetrate his rage. He pulled in a ragged breath and fought to keep his feet clamped to the ground when all he wanted to do was stomp the old man in front of him into the dirt. And then the man looked up at him and laughed.
"That's more like it, son. I knew there was Boyd blood in there somewhere:" He pushed himself slowly up off the ground. "I'm betting you like the ladies too. In spite of what they tell me about them Shaker men:"
Ethan just stared at him without saying anything. He wasn't worth words.
Brother Issachar spoke instead. "Take the money and go:"
"Don't let him have the money," Ethan said, but it was too late.
Brother Issachar had already pitched the pouch toward Hawk. The man caught it in midair and stuffed it in his pocket in one motion. He still grasped the knife in his other hand.
"Man is more precious than any amount of money," Brother Issachar said. "He can have it. We can make our way home without it. The good Lord will watch over us"
"You listen to him, boy. You'll learn a lot today both from your peaceable preacher friend and from me" Hawk slid his knife back in his belt. "You done learned that if you get mad enough, you ain't afraid of dying no more. That's not a bad lesson to know. Can actually stand you in good stead at times, but you've got a lot more to learn"
"I don't want to learn anything from you:'
"So you think, but I got three more things you might find useful in the days ahead" Hawk started to move past them out toward the street. Then in one motion he jerked out his knife again and put it against Ethan's ribs. "First, never trust a man with a knife, 'specially an old scalawag like me. And second, always expect the unexpected'
Ethan didn't have time to react before Hawk flashed the knife away from Ethan and stabbed Brother Issachar in the stomach. Hawk yanked the knife out and stepped back from Ethan, who stared at the blood dripping off the knife blade. Even with that proof in front of his eyes, Ethan couldn't believe what the man had done. Color drained from Brother Issachar's face as he staggered to the side. Ethan grabbed him to hold him up as he glared with hatred at the man with the knife. He should have stomped him into the ground when he had the chance.
The Believer (The Shakers 2) Page 16