Joshua's Mission

by Vannetta Chapman

  Those questions would have to wait, as she was soon surrounded by a large group of people—the two other groups that Jim had mentioned. There were Amish, Mennonite, and Englisch. They all seemed to know one another, and though they introduced themselves, Becca didn’t even try to remember their names. They floated in and out of her mind like sand sifting through her fingers. Nancy had told them that the other two groups would be rotating off at the end of the week. There didn’t seem to be much reason to work on remembering their names because they would soon be gone.

  Everyone was nice enough. All were in high spirits because it was Friday and they would be able to rest the next day. Within such a large group, the people of Becca’s group suddenly felt like family—even Frank, Brady, Simon, and Eva.

  Someone had started grilling hamburgers over a charcoal grill, and Becca’s stomach grumbled. Part of her mind realized she wasn’t worrying about food anymore and whether or not she should restrict her calories. She reached to fill her plate with chips, guacamole dip (something she’d never tried before), and fresh vegetables. It felt good to eat after such a long day’s work.

  Soon the hamburgers were done and everyone was pulling them from the grill, adding mustard, ketchup, onion, pickles, and even chili. Before she’d taken her first bite, one of the ladies from the downtown group said, “We brought ice cream for dessert.”

  Everyone groaned except Alton, who said, “Before my second hamburger or after?”

  “You can eat it whenever you want. It’s in the large red cooler—and it’s Bluebell, a Texas specialty.”

  “We worked on a MDS project in Bastrop once.” Brady pushed up his large glasses and offered a rare smile. “It was only an hour from the little creamery in Brenham. Now that was a great Saturday field trip.”

  “We brought six different flavors, including Butter Crunch, which is a flavor they rotate into the summer production.” The woman was not Amish or Mennonite, but she seemed quite familiar with MDS and Texas ice cream. “Save some room. You’re going to want to try it.”

  As they ate in a circle around the campfire, everyone began to tell stories about funny events on the job site and families they remembered helping. Someone pulled out a guitar and started to sing, and the fire grew brighter as the sun faded from the sky. Becca looked down and saw that her plate was empty. She glanced back out at the ocean. She wanted to go walk there, but Sarah was already gone, having left a few minutes earlier with Alton, who had indeed switched into bright green trunks. She didn’t know if she wanted to walk to the water alone. What if she became lost? What if she stepped on a jellyfish?

  Shaking her head, she practically laughed at herself. She sounded like a small child—afraid of her own shadow. In fact, she could look up and see young children with their parents, laughing as their feet touched the surf.

  So she stood, kicked off her shoes, and walked toward the waves. The first time the water splashed over her feet she jumped backward and nearly fell into Joshua. Beside him was Simon, and they were both laughing at her, which she didn’t mind so much. It was nice to be with friends, nice to have these quiet moments walking along a Texas beach.

  She decided to ignore the butterflies batting against her stomach and enjoy the evening. As her mother had said, these would be memories she’d have for a lifetime, and she wanted them to be good ones.

  CHAPTER 31

  Charlie had fallen into a routine. He would rise at his usual time Saturday morning—actually, every morning was the same time with Quitz. After feeding the dog, he’d pour himself a cup of coffee and stand on the patio of his urban disaster trailer. The name still made him shake his head. They had certainly suffered a disaster, but they were far from urban. Still, the one-bedroom trailer was sufficient for him and Quitz. He was grateful not to be commuting from the mainland.

  As he drank his coffee, he tried not to dwell on the pile of debris next door. His entire home had collapsed. Much of it had disappeared and been replaced with debris from other parts of the island. The first few weeks after he’d returned, he had tried to dig out what could be salvaged. What he’d found had been waterlogged—ruined. The task finally became too depressing. It was all trash and would need to be hauled to one of the debris disposal sites. What was the hurry? It wasn’t going anywhere.

  The important thing was that he was alive. He had that to be thankful for each morning, and he was. He could rebuild if he decided he wanted to do so. His life was full of too many questions at this point, and there was no real hurry.

  After his coffee, he’d rustle up something for breakfast—usually a bagel or bowl of hot cereal. Then he’d clip Quitz’s leash to her collar, take her for a short walk along the beach, and return home to pack a lunch. Three times a week he stopped off at the diner for coffee and to check on Alice. Then he would drive over to the job site.

  Charlie especially liked Saturday mornings. He was able to survey the progress without being in anyone’s way. He understood that no one needed an old man underfoot, slowing them down. A year ago he might have tried to help with the construction, but his shoulder hadn’t yet healed enough for that.

  Sure, he did errands for Jim. And he helped the new group in any way he could. But it irked him that he couldn’t climb up on the roof, carry in the drywall, or lay flooring.

  Regardless, he went to the job site every Saturday morning, walked through the houses noting progress, and made a list of questions to ask Jim if there was anything that seemed out of place. He thought of himself as an overseer, but that wasn’t quite right. It was more that he was an advocate for the people of Port Aransas. He’d suffered through the storm with them, and he had to believe that God had a reason for the fact he had survived when some hadn’t. That reason might be to help see families resettled into new homes. He certainly had the experience to understand what they were going through.

  But the restrictions in his activities rankled him. Who would guess that a shoulder could cause so much trouble? The bone had been cracked as well as dislocated. Old bones healed slowly. Perhaps God was using his injury to teach him patience.

  “God has forced our hand, Quitz. We’re slowing down whether we want to or not.”

  They pulled up in front of 423 Sea Side—the site of Alice’s house. It was the same lot she’d owned before Orion, but now everything looked completely different. If he were honest, Charlie would admit that in some ways it looked better. The neighborhood had been on the downslide before the hurricane hit. The storm had cleared away both the good and the bad.

  Tidy houses in a row winked at him from the sidewalk—some complete, some not begun, and some—like Alice’s—nearly ready for the owners to move in. The lot beside hers was empty. Charlie knew it was for sale. The folks who owned it had decided not to return to the island. He had contacted them and found out the price, something he could easily afford. But should he move? Would Alice want him to? And what about his place on the beach? What would Madelyn want him to do?

  “The world doesn’t stand still, Charlie.” Her words were a constant reminder in his heart.

  He stepped into the house and was surprised to see Joshua there. After greeting Quitz, Joshua looked down at the two bags of donuts he held and pushed one into Charlie’s hands. “I have no idea why I bought so many. We don’t have these often in our community. It’s too far to town. I woke early and took a walk—”

  “You can smell Mr. Kim’s donuts from a mile away.”

  Joshua smiled and popped a donut hole in his mouth.

  “You’re off today, Joshua. I thought you’d be sleeping in.”

  “My bruder is. He can sleep through several meals if we let him.”

  “Youth.”

  “Ya. I suppose.”

  “But you aren’t one to do that.”

  Joshua shrugged. “I’m a farmer. It’s in my blood to rise early, work hard, and collapse on the couch when the day is done.”

  “Hmm. Amish life doesn’t sound too different from that of a Texas farmer
.”

  “It’s probably not.”

  Charlie wondered why Joshua was here. Why had he come to help a small town in southern Texas? Most of the MDS volunteers were either young—teenagers or twentysomethings—or they were older, retired folks like himself. They also had some regulars, such as Simon, Frank, Brady, and Eva. They lived in distant Texas towns and felt a kinship to the people in Port A. They wanted to help and would probably keep returning until there was nothing left to do.

  “Tell me about Alice and the kids,” Joshua said.

  “Good family. She works at the Shack.”

  When Joshua’s eyebrows rose, Charlie chuckled. “It’s a diner. We’ll eat there soon. Maybe next week. Excellent home-style cooking.”

  “Sounds like my kind of place.” Joshua paused and then asked, “How do you know Alice? It’s plain she means a lot to you.”

  “She does, and so do the kids—C.J. and Shelley.” As he munched on a donut, Charlie described the children, their ages, and their activities in school. The men walked through the rooms, and Charlie noted that the painting was finished. He nodded in approval. The flooring could be laid on Monday. They were making good progress.

  They had stepped into C.J.’s upstairs bedroom and were looking out the front window. From there they had a good view of the street and the neighborhood beyond. They were too far from the ocean to catch sight of it, but Charlie knew it was there. Like a heartbeat it seemed to provide a background for most of his life. Perhaps it was that thought that caused him to share more than pleasantries with Joshua.

  “My wife, Madelyn, and I moved here when I was twenty-two years old. We were newlyweds. It was my first teaching job.”

  “She’s passed?” Joshua was now facing him, though Charlie continued gazing out the window.

  “Yes. Three years ago—nearly four now.” It surprised him that the words came out so evenly, as if he weren’t describing the day his life had change irrevocably. “Love is the most important thing, son. Don’t ever pretend that something takes precedence over it. Even the Good Book says as much. Faith, hope, and love… ”

  “But the greatest of these is love.”

  Charlie was a little surprised that Joshua knew the Scripture. It seemed a thing from a lost generation—memorizing the words from God’s Book.

  “After Madelyn passed, I suppose I was a bit lost. I was retired then and unsure what to do with my time.”

  “Alice helped you.”

  “She did. I would go to the diner several times a week. She always had a pleasant attitude and ready smile. Eventually she began to tell me about the kids—her grandkids.”

  “So she’s like a daughter to you.”

  Charlie smiled. He’d often thought the same thing himself.

  “And Shelley and C.J. are like grandkinner.”

  Grandkids? Probably, but before Charlie could ask, a Dodge Neon drove up and C.J. and Shelley tumbled out of the car. Quitz had been waiting patiently, but at the sound of the car door she looked to Charlie, who nodded once. She hopped up and bounded down the stairs and out the door.

  Charlie rolled up the top of the donut bag and handed it back to Joshua. “Let’s show the kids how much progress you’ve made.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Joshua hadn’t known a lot of Englischers in his lifetime. Certainly Amish and Englisch lived side by side in Cody’s Creek, but other than interacting at work, most kept to themselves. Maybe occasionally they traded produce with one another. An Amish man or young woman might take a temporary job at the Cheese House. Men sometimes worked on a building for an Englisch farmer. Women would occasionally commission a sewing or quilting project. An Englischer looking for temporary work might even show up and help with the harvest. But by and large their lives remained separate.

  One Englischer in their community, Brian Walker, had become Amish. That had surprised everyone. Most thought he wouldn’t last, but he had. Not only that, but he’d been asked to teach at their local school, and he’d eventually married a girl from their community. But Brian seemed Amish to Joshua—wearing their clothes, slowly learning their language, living their plain and simple life.

  Charlie Everman was most certainly Englisch through and through. Joshua watched the old guy hobble carefully down the stairs. Twice he paused to rub one of his shoulders, which hinted of a past injury. But there was little doubt that his mind was as quick as it had ever been. He wasn’t focused on his own problems, either. As soon as the car had driven up, Charlie’s attention had turned toward the people outside. When they reached the door, the children barreled into him, much as Joshua had seen Amish children run up to their daddi after a church meeting.

  Would his life be like that?

  Would he have children who would spend lazy Sunday afternoons with his parents?

  His mind brushed back over the Scripture Charlie had mentioned, “Faith, hope, and love.” He hadn’t given it much thought. Occasionally he would wonder if he’d ever marry, but in the day-to-day business of working a farm the thought usually got pushed to the back of his mind. Since he’d left Cody’s Creek, he’d certainly spent some time thinking about it. Maybe it was the hours spent in idleness on the bus. Or maybe, possibly, it was being in such close proximity to Becca Troyer.

  The children’s voices brought his mind back to the present.

  Although he could relate to them, his first glance at Alice revealed that she was nothing like he expected. Her brown hair, tinged with gray, was cut in a straight, short fashion. Her hairstyle and clothes (she wore jeans and a faded T-shirt), made her seem much younger than the grandmothers he knew. Had being a mother to the children kept her young? And what of the children’s parents?

  Before he could spend any more time puzzling over the situation, Charlie was introducing C.J., who studied him seriously and then stuck out a hand for shaking.

  “You’re Amish. Like Mennonites but different.”

  “Ya. That is true.” Joshua shook the young boy’s hand.

  “You don’t have a beard unless you’re married, so you’re not married.”

  “Mind your manners, C.J.” This from Alice, who was standing close by, squinting into the glare of the sun.

  “Your grandson is correct.” Joshua stuck his hands in his pockets as he nodded hello at Alice. “I’m Amish and I’m not married.”

  “The first week that MDS was here, C.J. had the Mennonite community pulled up on his computer and was learning all about them.”

  “But I didn’t find as much online about the Amish.”

  “I’m happy to answer any questions you have if I know the answer.” Joshua squatted down beside the little girl, who was petting Charlie’s dog. “You must be Shelley.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “My friend painted both of your bedrooms yesterday.”

  Shelley’s head jerked up, causing the ribbons around her ponytails, worn high today, to sway back and forth. “Can I see?”

  “Ask your mammi.”

  “That’s not my mammi.” Shelley giggled. “That’s my nana.”

  The grown-ups laughed and C.J. rolled his eyes.

  “Can I take her up, Nana?”

  Alice looked to Charlie, who nodded.

  “Sure,” she said. “But careful on the stairs.”

  “The banister was added to the stairs on Wednesday,” Charlie assured them. “All of the tools have been picked up. Watch out for any stray nails, though. I’m not sure those tennis shoes would stop them.”

  “A nail would have to be standing straight up to go through our shoe.” C.J. scuffed his foot against the ground, and then he added, “But we’ll be careful.”

  The two children raced inside, Quitz close on their heels.

  Alice turned to Joshua. “Thank you for working on our home.”

  “It’s a pleasure to be here. Port Aransas is quite different from Oklahoma. We’re enjoying the change of scenery.”

  “I hope you’ll have some time to take it all in
.”

  “We had a picnic on the beach last night.” Joshua’s thoughts again drifted to Becca. They had walked for more than an hour—looking for seashells and avoiding jellyfish. The waves had washed over their bare feet, and the night had grown cool. They had eventually returned to the fire and listened to a young man who had brought a guitar. He’d sung about Texas nights and lost love and cowboys.

  “Let’s go inside.” Charlie took a package from Alice’s arms. “I’ll carry that. What did you bake?”

  Joshua learned that Alice brought baked goods for the work crew every Saturday morning. The sack was filled with loaves of cranberry-orange bread, chocolate chip cookies, and brownie bars. Perhaps she wasn’t so different from the grandmothers back home after all.

  Soon Sarah and Becca had joined them, with Nancy not far behind. Alton was the last of the group to stumble out, looking as if he’d barely managed to pull his suspenders over his shoulders. There was another round of introductions. C.J. seemed particularly taken with Alton, who had found a football somewhere and was passing it back and forth to the boy. When had Alton learned to throw a football?

  Before Joshua could ask, they were moving to the girls’ trailer for coffee and to eat the goodies from Alice’s bag. They barely fit into the tiny space. Some sat in the kitchen. Others moved out onto the patio. The children lay on the floor in the living room in front a television set, which had been tuned to cartoons.

  “I’m surprised to see you up before noon,” Joshua said to Alton. He’d meant it as a joke but quickly realized that his voice had a nagging ring to it. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Maybe you smelled the sweets Alice brought us.”

  “I actually have things to do today, bruder.”

  Alton and Sarah exchanged glances, but neither elaborated on what the “things” were that Alton had to do. Joshua was curious, but then decided he’d rather not know. They had been on the island less than forty-eight hours. Even his brother couldn’t find trouble that fast.