Adoring Addie

by Leslie Gould

  I held my breath.

  “I just want to say hello,” he chided Jonathan as they all neared the car. He appeared even bigger than he had earlier in the week, and I marveled at how dark his hair and beard were—so different than my Daed’s. I didn’t stare long though, and turned my head so he couldn’t see my face. Hannah did the same.

  Martin clamored from the car, calling out a hello to their Onkel before he got any closer.

  “Who do you have with you?” Dirk asked.

  Molly rolled down her window. “Just a few of us girls,” she said. “My last name is Zook. We have the farm with the nursery stock on the other side of Paradise.”

  “Sure,” Dirk said. “Where the Youngie farmers’ market is.”

  “That’s right.” Molly’s voice surged with enthusiasm. “Jonathan’s done really well there.”

  I couldn’t see Dirk’s face, but by the long pause, I gathered he didn’t agree with her.

  “We should get going,” Martin interjected. The twins blurted out good-byes to their Onkel, and then Mervin asked Jonathan if he wanted to drive.

  As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he saw me and broke out into a big smile. After he fastened his seatbelt, he reached back and brushed my leg. My heart swelled. I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, which he returned.

  I smiled and then stole a glance toward the house. His father was standing at the back door, his arms crossed, his feet apart. Dusk was falling, so I couldn’t see his face, but I sensed a frown on it.

  “Hello, Molly and Hannah,” Jonathan said as he backed up the car, looking over the driver’s seat. Then his gaze fell on me for a long moment.

  “Do you have a driver’s license?” Molly asked.

  “Who, me?” Jonathan turned forward, put the car in Drive, and pulled up to the highway.

  “Jah—who else?” Molly seemed a little flirty.

  “I got it back home.” He turned left. “I did deliveries for a local carpenter for a while—a retired Englisch pastor.”

  I kept my eyes on the back of his head, on the brim of his straw hat, as he drove, wanting to ask why he quit working for the man, but guessing his Dat forced him to. There was a lot, granted, I didn’t know about Jonathan.

  “So where are we going?” he asked.

  “To the river,” Martin answered.

  “There’s a big party starting up. With kids from all over.” Mervin pulled down on the bill of his cap. “Take a right at the next intersection.”

  The twins directed Jonathan, arguing now and then about the next turn. Molly chimed in often, but Hannah and I stayed quiet. I didn’t like sharing Jonathan with everyone, and Hannah seemed to be sliding into one of her moods. However, whenever Mervin looked at her, she smiled and perked up.

  The sun set behind us, casting a golden glow into the car, but by the time we turned toward the river, darkness covered the countryside.

  Martin directed Jonathan to follow a pickup down a dirt road. He slowed to a crawl, but still the three of us girls bumped along in the back seat, jarring into each other. Molly and I began to laugh but Hannah stuck out her elbows, forcing us back against the doors.

  The lights of the car bounced along the field of stubble on either side of us. Soon there was a car behind us, and one behind that.

  “I heard kids from all over the state will be here,” Martin said. “And even as far as Ohio.”

  I couldn’t help but think it was crazy for Youngie to travel so far—for a party.

  “Of course there will be lots of locals too,” Mervin added. He shot another glance at Hannah. “But just so you three girls know, we’re not after any trouble. Isn’t that right?” He turned first to Martin and then to Jonathan.

  “Of course we aren’t,” Jonathan said. “We’re looking to mend things. Not make them worse.”

  Ahead, I spotted George’s blue pickup. Next to it was Timothy’s yellow Bronco.

  “Turn right,” I stammered. “Park down that way.” I could only hope there would be so many teenagers and young adults that Timothy wouldn’t even see Jonathan, Mervin, and Martin. It was a nice delusion to hold on to—at least for a short time.

  CHAPTER

  13

  Hannah and Molly took off their Kapps in the back seat, and as soon as the boys climbed out of the car, the girls started to wiggle out of their dresses too. Eager to give them more room, I climbed out, closed the door firmly behind me, and stepped around to Jonathan’s side. He took my hand in his rougher one and held it tenderly. I leaned against him.

  When Hannah and Molly finally appeared, they were wearing jeans, tight fitting tops—Hannah in a red one and Molly in a sparkly silver one—and strappy sandals. They ran their fingers through their hair, raking it out over their shoulders. Hannah’s dark curls fell midway down her back, while Molly’s straight blond hair nearly reached her waist.

  I glanced down at my dress and apron, then touched my bun, tucked under my Kapp.

  “You look nice,” Jonathan whispered into my ear. “I like what you’re wearing much better.”

  “Denki,” I whispered back, even though I didn’t quite believe him.

  Martin and Molly fell into step with Mervin and Hannah, leading the way to the crowd gathered closer to the river. The air grew cooler the farther we walked.

  Mervin reached for Hannah’s hand, and they walked in step for a bit, but then he put his arm around her and drew her close.

  “Ach,” Jonathan said. “They make a sweet couple.”

  At least I wasn’t the only girl in my extended family now interested in a Mosier boy. But the truth was, although the adults in the families wouldn’t be thrilled, they wouldn’t be as upset about Hannah and Mervin as they would about Jonathan and me. It was our fathers, Cap and Dirk, who were at the heart of the problem.

  Martin stopped at a group of guys gathered around the trunk of a car. A few of them slapped him on the back and then Mervin too. Beers were offered around, but Mervin and Martin declined. The guys offered Hannah and Molly each a beer, but they giggled and refused.

  Jonathan put his hand on my back and directed me around the group and away from the cars and headlights.

  “It looks like there’s a trail over here,” he said.

  I followed him through beaten-down grass, still holding his hand. The terrain began to slope a little, and soon we began sidestepping down a slight hill that led toward the riverbank.

  I asked about Tabitha, if she’d thought about coming along tonight.

  Jonathan shook his head. “She said she’s not going to any more parties around here. She doesn’t like what goes on.” He paused for just a moment and then added, “I understand what she means. I think this will be my last one.”

  I nodded. There was too much tension in the air for my liking.

  Jonathan let go of my hand as the slope increased and took my elbow, leading me along. I’d never felt so cared for. So cherished. A new hope hung over me, as promising as the canopy of the night sky twinkling above my head.

  In the background the hum of voices grew louder, and someone shouted, “Look who’s here!”

  But it wasn’t just someone. It was Timothy.

  “Your brother?” Jonathan clasped me tighter as the slope grew steeper.

  “Jah,” I said. “Timothy the Terrible.”

  Jonathan grinned. “Do you have names for the other Bruders too?”

  “Of course.” I smiled back.

  He cocked his head.

  “Samuel the Simple. George the Generous. Danny the Dependable.” I took a breath.

  “Let me guess. . . .” He inched a little closer to me. “Billy the . . . Brave.”

  “How’d you know?”

  He smiled. “Billy told me. He really likes it that you call him that.”

  I sighed. “Well, Timothy and Samuel don’t know what I call them. I only share the positive ones.”

  “That’s wise, ”Jonathan said. “And what about you? What do they call you?”

>   I squirmed a little. “Just Addie.”

  “How about . . . Addie the Adored.”

  I sighed again. “Hardly.”

  “What? How could you say that? Everyone adores you.”

  “Not in my family.”

  “I think you’re wrong.” He met my eyes. “You know I adore you, right?”

  “Stop.”

  “No. I will adore you my entire life. I promise.” He tilted his head toward the sky. “As sure as the moon rises and the stars shine, even when we’re old and gray.”

  I groaned. “Please stop.”

  “Oh, no. I’m just starting. We have so much to look forward to. So much God is going to give us.” He reached his hand that wasn’t holding mine high above our heads. “We’ll set our sails by his direction.”

  Timothy shouted again.

  Jonathan grimaced. “But tonight our course is away from your brother.”

  “Hopefully, no one will tell him we’re here.”

  Jonathan let go of my arm and pointed to a boulder. I sat and he leaned against it next to me, his leg pressed against mine. On the other side of the vast inky river, lights fell across the water. Above our heads the cool breeze danced through the leaves of the trees.

  Jonathan scooted back a little and put his arm around me, tilting his head heavenward. “Isn’t it amazing?”

  “Jah” was all I managed to say.

  “I read somewhere that there are eight thousand stars visible at any one time but more than four hundred billion stars in the Milky Way alone.” Jonathan tilted his head back even farther. “It’s impossible to comprehend, isn’t it.”

  I nodded. “It makes me feel so small.” Sure, I felt hopeful because of Jonathan, but not even that could shake my feelings of insignificance.

  “Really?” Jonathan turned his attention to me. “It makes me feel so chosen. So designed. Such an important part of God’s world—not special, mind you, not more valued than anyone else he’s made. But definitely as if I have a purpose.”

  It was easy for him to feel that way. He was made to see the positive—and had a personality to appreciate beauty. Plus a gift to create incredible things.

  “Addie?” he said.

  “Jah?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That I wish I could talk about God the way you do.”

  He leaned his shoulder against mine but stayed silent.

  “I guess I should say ‘feel’ about God,” I clarified.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You speak of him with such certainty.” I realized that didn’t sound as I meant it. “Not certainty that he exists—I know that. But certainty that he cares about you.”

  “Jah, I know he does. And he cares about you too. Don’t you feel it?”

  I took a deep breath. How could I explain to Jonathan that I didn’t? What I did feel was that I was a disappointment to God, and that I’d never measure up to what he wanted from me, just like I felt as if I’d never measure up to what my parents wanted of me either.

  “But God adores you, Addie. Far more than I even do—which is saying a lot. Don’t you see? He wants you to abide in him—to talk with him and follow his teachings. It’s as simple as that.”

  He smiled. “Although, simple doesn’t always mean easy. I worry sometimes—I even ended up with a stomach problem a while back from stress. And sometimes I’m not mindful of others, like with being late.”

  I nodded. He had been late a few times, including tonight. His face was inches from mine as he spoke. “And as you know, I sometimes lack confidence about my work.”

  I nodded again. I’d seen that firsthand.

  “And my Dat and I don’t have a great relationship, but I keep trying to talk things through with God—I keep trying to live by faith, bit by bit.”

  I did like the way he spoke about God.

  We both watched the sky, leaning against each other. I also liked having him so close. I nuzzled my head against his, and he turned toward me.

  “How about another holy kiss?” he asked.

  I leaned toward him. “How about a real kiss?” The scent of wood that hung on his clothes grew stronger.

  Downriver, it sounded as if someone threw a rock into the current, followed by laughter. Timothy again, I was sure.

  Jonathan put his hand on the small of my back, drawing me closer. I raised my face to his.

  There was another splash, then a girl’s voice—Molly’s?—yelled, “Knock it off.”

  “Make me!” That was definitely Timothy. He laughed again, this time in a jeering way.

  I took a deep breath, wishing I could make my oh-so-terrible brother disappear.

  “He’ll stop soon,” Jonathan whispered, his nose touching mine.

  I shivered. “He’s probably had too much to drink. I hope he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Jah, it’s troubling, isn’t it.” Jonathan’s breath warmed my face.

  There was another outburst—Timothy again, yelling, “Prove it.”

  Then a scream, most likely from Hannah. Then Molly yelled, “Timothy Cramer, you’re going to get it.”

  I froze as Jonathan turned his head toward the ruckus.

  It sounded as if there was a scuffle going on and then there was another splash, but this time it didn’t sound like a rock.

  “Mervin?!” Martin’s voice relayed both uncertainty and fear.

  “He went under the water!” This time I was sure it was Hannah.

  Jonathan let go of me and dashed toward the trail before I registered what had happened, but once I did I sprinted behind him.

  “Who has a flashlight?” Molly yelled.

  A beam appeared in the distance, most likely an app on someone’s phone.

  “Mervin!” Panic filled Martin’s voice.

  There was another splash. We were close now, close enough to hear Molly say, “I’m calling 9-1-1.” She sounded sure and calm, but Hannah began to scream.

  Jonathan ran, with me struggling to keep up, urged on by my cousin’s wailing and the thought of Mervin drowning in the Susquehanna River.

  By the time I reached Hannah, Jonathan had jumped into the water. Though Martin seemed to be thrashing about, Jonathan made his way straight out. There was now a crowd gathered around, shining flashlights and cell phones onto the surface of the river. I searched the group for my Bruders but couldn’t find any of them—not even George, whom I assumed had come with Sadie.

  It didn’t surprise me that Timothy would run off, but it wasn’t like George to be a coward.

  Standing back from the crowd, Molly spoke into her phone.

  I pulled Hannah close as soon as I reached her. “Shh,” I whispered. “Jonathan and Martin need to be able to hear each other.” I wasn’t sure if what I said was true, since Martin was still thrashing around, but I didn’t think Hannah’s noise was going to help anything.

  Jonathan turned back toward the shore, stood, and bent over. I imagined him methodically sweeping his arms back and forth under the water. After a few steps he reached deeper. He didn’t shout or call out. He simply pulled, yanking Mervin to the surface, and started moving toward the bank. Mervin’s body flopped forward like a rag doll. Water poured from his hair and down his face.

  Hannah’s hands flew to her eyes, and she screamed again. That got Martin’s attention, and he stopped thrashing around and floundered toward Jonathan, grabbing Mervin’s other arm. Together they dragged him to the bank as Mervin’s head lolled forward.

  Other young men stepped forward and grabbed Mervin, pulling him out of the water and up the slope of matted-down grass onto level ground. Jonathan knelt and bent over Mervin, scooped his finger in his mouth, and then leaned down and breathed. Then he began compressions on his chest. As he worked, he spoke to Martin, who moved closer to Mervin’s head and took over the breathing. Jonathan kept up with the compressions.

  Hannah stepped backward to the edge of the crowd, and I moved with her, grabbing her hand, praying silently fo
r Mervin as I stood beside my cousin. Seconds dragged on like hours as Jonathan and Martin continued working on Mervin. The crowd kept stepping in closer and closer until Jonathan shooed them all back. Molly, still on her phone, started jogging toward the parking lot. She looked like an Englisch girl—her hair long, her jeans tight, her demeanor confident and sure. No one would guess she was Plain.

  In the distance a siren wailed.

  The crowd broke in two then, with half the kids hurrying back to their cars. Motors revved to life. Lights came on. Beer cans flew out of windows. A few cars sped away, but most left slowly, one by one. Those Youngie who didn’t leave congregated at the far end of the field, away from the river. I guessed those were the ones who hadn’t been drinking. And a small group stayed in a semicircle around Mervin.

  The sirens grew louder, and a fire truck turned off the road into the field, followed by an ambulance. Molly directed them to the edge of the field. The lights blinded us as the emergency vehicles turned toward the river, their red-and-white lights falling on the twins and Jonathan.

  The engines continued to idle as fire fighters and EMTs climbed out, collecting their equipment. A police car, its blue lights flashing, bumped onto the field in the distance.

  The fire fighters reached Mervin first and then the EMTs. Jonathan and Martin stood and stepped backward. I realized then that neither had their hats, and of course, Mervin didn’t have his either.

  Perhaps I was trying to distract myself, but I began searching the water, which was nearly pitch-dark now that the flashlights and cell phones had left with their owners.

  God, I prayed, if only I can see their hats, even one of the hats, then I know everything will be okay. It was a silly prayer, a “fleece,” some would call it, but it was the best I could do.

  Just then a figure moved along the bank, headed downstream, a stick in his hand. He squatted and reached out, fishing out one straw hat and pulling it in. When he stood I realized it was George—with Jonathan’s hat, since Mervin and Martin had both been wearing baseball caps.

  George continued downstream, disappearing into the dark.

  I turned then toward the group that remained, looking again for Timothy as two police officers climbed out of the car, its lights still flashing. They stopped a young Amishman I didn’t recognize, but he shook his head. They made their way around the group that had been pushed farther from Mervin by the fire fighters.