Rachel's Rescue

by Serena B. Miller

  As Darren entered the house, he was swaggering with confidence and wearing an expensive dark suit and a colorful tie. It was not a good sign. Darren had probably just made another “great business deal” he wanted to tell Joe about. Of course whatever it was would soon fall flat. That was how Darren lived. He would then expect his big brother to bail him out of whatever difficulties he’d gotten himself into. Evidently Darren had not remembered that Joe no longer had the financial wherewithal to pick up the pieces.

  “I thought you might have gone back to Atlanta,” Joe said. “Isn’t that where you’ve been living recently?”

  “Not anymore,” Darren said. “I’ve moved for good.”

  Joe wasn’t surprised or even particularly interested. His little brother had always been a nomad. Months would pass when Joe wouldn’t hear from him, and then Darren would pop up in some new city. There was a restlessness to Darren’s lifestyle. He would stay in a place until a deal fell through or the cops began to suspect that his latest dealings were a little shady or a girlfriend started pushing for marriage or maybe because he simply wanted a change of scenery. Joe also suspected sometimes that Darren moved for no other reason than he was short on cash and the rent was due.

  “Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve moved to?”

  “You aren’t staying at Dad’s?” Joe turned off the flame beneath the skillet. ‘“Not after today.”

  “So, where have you moved?”

  “I leased an apartment in Sugarcreek today.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s upstairs over an old commercial building on Main Street.”

  Joe couldn’t figure out why Darren seemed so pleased with himself. “I thought you were broke.”

  “I am,” Darren said cheerfully.

  Joe’s heart sank. His brother never took his situation in life seriously. He slid Bobby’s sandwich onto a plate decorated with cartoon figures. “Do you have any plans? I really can’t help you this time, Darren. I honestly don’t have any money to give you these days.”

  “That’s okay,” Darren said. “I thought I’d go into business with you instead.”

  “Me?”

  “Yep. Hey, you think you could make one of those grilled-cheese sandwiches for me? It looks good.”

  Joe handed the one he’d just made to his brother and began buttering a fresh one for his son.

  “What do you mean, go into business with me? That’s crazy talk.”

  “Actually, I thought I’d be the one funding you this time. At least for a little while.”

  “Get serious, Darren. What are you talking about?” Joe didn’t know what was coming next, but he was certain he wouldn’t like it.

  Darren polished off the grilled cheese in four bites, wiped his hands and mouth on the paper napkin Joe handed him, and then took out his cell phone and pulled up a photograph, which he showed Joe.

  “I rented this,” Darren said. “It’s so close you can walk to it, and I’ll be living there.”

  With spatula in hand, Joe glanced at the photo. To his astonishment, it was a picture of a storefront in downtown Sugarcreek where a small restaurant had once operated. It had stood empty for months.

  “You rented this?” Joe asked. “Why? And with what?”

  “I sold my Lamborghini.”

  “You sold your car? What are you driving?” Joe asked.

  “I’ll walk until we get on our feet.”

  Darren without a nice car was unimaginable. His brother always managed to drive an impressive vehicle even when he was flat broke.

  “I have a great name for the place,” Darren said. “We’ll call it ‘Miracle Micah’s Home Plate’!”

  “First of all, please drop the ‘Miracle Micah.’ Around here, I’m Joe. What on earth have you done, Darren?”

  “My car bought us six months of rent and all the used restaurant equipment the old owner left behind,” Darren said. “Ta-da! Joe’s Home Plate! Don’t you remember our last discussion? Mom’s recipes? Joe’s Home Run Burger. Joe’s Slider. Joe’s Fastball? We had it all planned out. The only thing we needed was money, and I found some. The upstairs apartment was part of the deal. You know, I’ve always wanted to be the kind of business owner who lived above the shop.”

  “You’ve always wanted to be the kind of business owner who made millions of dollars without having to work for it,” Joe said.

  “Well, yes,” Darren agreed. “But next to that, living above the shop sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “You actually sold your car?” Joe said. “To rent a restaurant?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you loved that car.”

  “Yes,” Darren said, “but I love you more.”

  Joe stood still at the stove, watching the second grilled cheese fry. His little brother had been the bane of his life when he was a teenager—the polar opposite of himself. Clumsy. No athletic ability. A bit of a momma’s boy. He’d followed Joe around like a puppy for most of his young life. Joe had not minded giving Darren the occasional infusion of money in the past because it kept Darren out of his hair. Now his brother was wanting to—what? Go into business together? Run a restaurant together?

  “This is crazy,” Joe said. “I know how to fry a decent hamburger, but I don’t know anything about running a restaurant, and neither do you. Can you get your money back?”

  “Look,” Darren said, “I know I’m not as smart as you, and I know I haven’t been a big success in business…yet. But this is a good idea. I can feel it deep down in my bones. I’ve got it all figured out. You can display your trophies and awards and put up old photos of yourself, and I’ll take care of advertisements, and…”

  “But we need to actually manage to cook something that people will want to eat!”

  “That’s the easy part,” Darren said. “First of all, this place is dying for a good burger. Even the tourists who come here must get tired of eating mashed potatoes and noodles after a while. The location is perfect—all those people walking around and looking at the World’s Largest Cuckoo Clock? We’re almost right across the street from it, Micah. We can rig a fan to blow the smell of frying meat and onions across Main Street, and they’ll follow their noses.”

  “Let me say this again,” Joe said. “We know nothing about running a restaurant. We’d have to hire staff. How would we pay them?”

  “We’ve got me and you,” Darren said. “Rachel would pitch in when she could. I bet Lydia would provide the desserts. Customers would crowd in just for her pies alone. You’ve got family, Micah. And friends. You told me once that that was the genius behind so many of the business successes of the Amish—they can depend on their families and friends to help out. Won’t you at least give it a try?”

  Darren’s voice had become choked with emotion as he tried to convince him of the merit of this ridiculous idea.

  “Joe’s Home Plate.” Joe had to admit, the name had a nice ring.

  “Just think about it,” Darren said. “What do you have to lose? It’s my money we’re gambling with for a change. Who knows? Maybe after all the deals I’ve had go bad, it’s time for something to actually work out for me. I’d like to at least try.”

  “Bobby!” Joe slid the second grilled-cheese sandwich onto a plate and sat it on the table. “Come eat your lunch!”

  Darren watched him carefully, waiting for an answer.

  The idea had been running through Joe’s mind ever since that first night Darren brought it up. And even though he knew it was crazy, he had continued to think about it.

  “I should have my head examined,” Joe said. “And I know I’m going to regret this…but I’ll give it a try. You’d just better not run out on me when things get tough. Running a restaurant is hard work.”

  “I won’t run out on you!” Darren jumped up, grabbed his brother by the arms, and began dancing him around the kitchen.

  Bobby’s eyes grew wide when he came into the kitchen and saw his uncle’s excitement. “What are you doing with my daddy,
Uncle Darren?”

  “Let go.” Joe disengaged himself. “You’re scaring my son.”

  “We’re going to have a family business, Bobby!” Darren whooped. “It’s finally going to happen. I’ve dreamed of something like this forever. I’m finally going to get to work with my brother!”

  “Um…can I have a peanut-butter sandwich?”

  Chapter 35

  Carl named his dog Shadow because he had found him hiding in the shadows. It took a week for Shadow to come close enough to sniff Carl’s hand and another week before the dog allowed him to caress his head. In the meantime, Carl purchased dog food and treats and hurried through his janitorial duties just so he could spend time with his new friend.

  Having a dog to nurture gave greater meaning to his days. The weather was warm and would continue to be. In late June, he didn’t have to worry about Shadow getting cold for a while. The church had window wells to give the basement sunshine during the day, and when he saw that Shadow liked sleeping in the window well that shed light into his own janitor’s closet/bedroom, he knew he was making progress. The dog was choosing to be near him.

  That next day, Carl retrieved an old, soft blanket that had been in the Lost and Found since before he came to the church, so he was pretty certain no one wanted it. He spread it out in the window well to soften Shadow’s nights and give the dog a place to nestle.

  He wanted to bring Shadow into the church building with him and often considered doing so, but he wasn’t sure the dog or the congregation was quite ready for that yet.

  The decision maker was the night a lightning storm broke so viciously that even in the basement, Carl felt the building shake from the violent crack of thunder. A few moments later he heard scratching and whining at the back door. When he opened it, Shadow was standing there dripping from the rain and trembling all over, begging with his eyes to be let in.

  Unfortunately, Shadow smelled like what he was—a dirty, wet dog—and that was not a smell Carl wanted in the building. “You can come in,” Carl told him, “but you’ll have to have a bath if you want to spend the night in here.”

  Shadow slowly wagged his tail, and Carl took that as an indication that the dog was willing. He used dish soap and the janitor’s sink to bathe the dog. Shadow stood very still and quiet, as though he were enjoying having gentle hands massage the warm suds into his short brown fur. It made Carl happy when Shadow closed his eyes, as if to say, “That feels sooo good!”

  After toweling the dog off, Carl brought a cushioned rubber mat from the kitchen, laid it on the floor beside his bed, and savored the feeling of having a friend beside him to enjoy the comfort of the little TV he’d recently picked up at Goodwill. In the middle of the night, he discovered that Shadow was smart enough to be naturally housebroken. The dog woke him, whining, and stood at the door, waiting to be let out. After quickly taking care of business, the dog hurried back as though concerned that Carl might change his mind and not let him back inside.

  Carl decided to purchase a collar and take his new dog to the vet soon. Even though he didn’t make a lot of money, his needs and wants were few. He’d saved enough that he thought he could afford to at least get Shadow checked out and his doggie shots brought up-to-date.

  Spending money on this neglected animal, with money he himself had earned, gave Carl a warm feeling. He was building a life for himself one step at a time. Having a good dog back in his life felt wonderful. The best thing about his new freedom was that he would not have to give up Shadow to anyone. This time, all the training, love, and care would be for as long as the dog or he lived.

  Unless he made a mistake, of course—something his parole officer would warrant demanded a trip back to prison. There were so many rules to follow on the outside—but now that Carl had Shadow depending on him, he had an extra reason not to break any of those rules.

  Chapter 36

  “Boo!” Anna said, as she came through the door of the police station carrying a cat.

  Rachel acted startled and then put her hand over her heart. “Oh, Anna! You scared me!”

  After Anna enjoyed a giggle over Rachel’s fright, she turned solemn. “Gray Cat is sick.”

  The cat did look listless and ill, but Rachel was more concerned with the fact that Anna had apparently walked the mile into town while carrying it. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was heavy.

  “Does Bertha or Lydia know you’re here?”

  “They are asleep.”

  Rachel glanced at her watch. It was nearly two o’clock. Her three aunts usually did lay down for a short nap in the afternoon. Worry over the sick kitty had probably kept Anna up. The other two would be waking soon and wondering where Anna was.

  She turned to Ed, who was working on vacation schedules for the five active Sugarcreek police officers. “Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead,” Ed said. “Things are pretty quiet today. I’ll call Bertha and let her know Anna is with you.”

  “Gray Cat wants to see Doctor Peggy,” Anna announced.

  “Of course she does.” Rachel gathered her keys. “We can do that.”

  “And Gray Cat wants to get ice cream.” Anna’s face was hopeful.

  “We’ll see. It depends on how long it takes.” Rachel glanced at Ed. “I’m still on duty. I don’t want to be gone too long.”

  Anna and her cat climbed into the backseat of the squad car. As usual, Rachel had to remind her to buckle her seat belt. Buggies didn’t have seat belts, and wearing them didn’t come automatically to Anna or to the rest of the Amish.

  Then they headed to Millersburg. There was a woman veterinarian there who had a special relationship with Anna. They were chronologically the same age, and had played together as children while Peggy was being fostered by Amish cousins. Anna trusted Doctor Peggy, who was always patient with Anna’s questions and the best at soothing her fears. She would also understand the need to work the cat into the appointments already scheduled that day. Anna did not understand the necessity to wait for an appointment when it came to her pets. If one of her beloved animals was sick, she wanted them tended to immediately.

  The waiting room was torture for Anna when they arrived. They had to wait, and the longer they waited, the more nervous Anna became. She fidgeted, questioned Rachel at least a dozen times about how much longer it would be, and made everyone in the waiting room nervous for her because of her great concern.

  Rachel was worried too. The cat seemed more and more listless as it lay on Anna’s lap. She hoped it didn’t have one of those feline diseases where the vet would have to put it down. She didn’t want to be alone with Anna on the way home if that were the case. When Anna cried, it was with her whole heart.

  While Rachel flipped through a magazine, trying to find pictures that would engage Anna, she was marginally aware that a man had come in with a dog. She glanced up and admired the healthy-looking animal. It was dark brown with some hints of gold in its fur, well-muscled, and young. The owner’s back was toward her and she did not pay any attention to him until she heard him state his name to the receptionist.

  “Carl Bateman,” the man said. “I’m here for my dog, Shadow.”

  The receptionist asked him a question, but Rachel didn’t catch it. Her mind had begun whirling and tumbling at the mere sound of his voice.

  “No, just a checkup,” Carl answered the receptionist. “I’ve only had him a short time and he needs his shots. There’s nothing wrong.”

  That was a lie. There was something very wrong. Rachel was going to be forced to sit near the one person on earth she could not bear to be in the same room with.

  It galled her that her father’s murderer was walking around doing normal things like owning a dog and going to the vet. How incredibly unfair! Her feelings for the man who had beaten her and put her in the hospital in Akron was nothing compared to how she felt about Carl Bateman. After all, she had survived. Her father had not.

  The floaty out-of-body feeling started again and she fought it d
own the best she could. She could not have another one of those stress-induced amnesia episodes. She just couldn’t.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered to Anna.

  “Go?” Anna looked bewildered while she stroked the cat. “No! My kitty is sick.”

  Rachel wanted to grab the cat and Anna and run straight out the door. There were other vets in the area. Doctor Mike was getting his practice started over in Sugarcreek and people said he was good. One thing she knew: she couldn’t sit here in the same room with this man much longer.

  Why did he have to come here to live, anyway? There were plenty of places in Ohio where he could have lived and she would never have to see him again. Why did it have to be here?

  “Seriously, Anna,” Rachel whispered, “this is taking too long. Let’s go back to Sugarcreek and see if we can get in to the vet there.”

  “But I like Doc Peggy,” Anna whined a little too loudly. “I don’t want to go.”

  Up to this point, Carl had apparently not noticed the fact that they were sitting there, but now he turned and seemed startled when he saw her.

  She stared straight back at him. Yeah, that’s right, buddy. It’s me.

  He nervously glanced around for a different seat, but the only one available was beside Anna.

  Anna, who had never met a stranger.

  As he lowered himself into the seat, the dog—the one he’d called Shadow—sat at attention in front of him. It didn’t pull away or whine; it seemed completely at ease sitting there. Every now and then it would look up at its master with adoration.

  “Your doggie is pretty,” Anna said.

  Carl said nothing. At least the man knew his place. There was no way she would tolerate him engaging in conversation with sweet Anna.

  “Do you want to pet my kitty? She’s not feeling so good.”

  More silence.

  “My name is Anna,” she continued. Such innocence. She had already asked everyone in the room their name and the name of their pet. Rachel hadn’t minded until now. “What’s yours?”