Between Two Worlds

by Shelter Somerset

  “It will be good if you take him,” Rachel said.

  “I will not do it.”

  “But there is nothing for him to do here today.”

  “Why does he not go with Mark and David?”

  “Stuck all day at the shop alone with those boys and your Uncle Eldridge?”

  Listening in, Aiden learned that the family owned a furniture shop in the town of Henry, with Samuel’s eldest brother, Eldridge. The Schrocks and Uncle Eldridge’s family took turns manning it. But today, Daniel needed to travel to some kind of a horse auction to replace their buggy horse, Dexter, and the shaft, both destroyed in Sunday’s accident. The journey entailed an hour-long buggy ride each way.

  “It would be good for you, too,” Rachel said. “You will want the company for such a long trip.”

  “I do not mind being alone,” Daniel said. “I like it that way.”

  “Can I go too, please, Mom?” came Grace’s imploring voice. She spoke in English, and her segue into the language seemed to lure the others to naturally follow.

  Rachel wasted few words. “No.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “Grace, this is no time for you to be running all over a horse auction. Besides, today’s washday. I need you here. I’ll be at the doctor’s with Leah most of the day.”

  “Take Aiden, Daniel.” It was Samuel’s voice, gruff and commanding, yet compassionate. Speaking in English like the others, he sounded closer. He must have been standing in the hallway, perhaps on his way out the front door when the conversation had caught his attention.

  “You shouldn’t drive so far alone,” he said. “It would be good for our friend to go. We’re all busy today with me needing to do watch repair, and your brothers going to the shop, and your mom taking Leah to the doctors’. Give him something to write about.”

  “Why doesn’t he go back to Chicago yet?”

  “Shtill, eah zayl hare,” Rachel reprimanded. Aiden understood that she was warning Daniel to keep his voice down.

  “I’d rather take Grace,” Daniel said curtly, but quieter.

  “For your mom. Do it, Daniel.”

  The silence that followed signified Daniel had lost the battle. At breakfast, Rachel’s pleasant way of telling Aiden about the horse auction failed to mask what he already knew. That Daniel did not want him to come. Daniel’s absence from the table affirmed as much. Aiden wanted to refuse, to avoid the awkwardness of spending the day with someone who clearly disliked him. He almost volunteered to stay and help the girls do the washing with their gas-powered Maytags. But knowing how Rachel and Samuel had put up such a noble fight on his behalf, he forced a compliant smile.

  Near eight in the morning, Daniel was hitching one of their buggy horses to the market wagon in the driveway when Aiden stepped onto the stone footpath. He expected to travel in the more common top-covered family buggy, but realized Daniel would probably want more space in the back for whatever purchases he might make at the horse auction. Flinching from an already muggy morning, he figured an open wagon ride was a blessing compared with being cooped up in one of those stuffy black buggies. Such close confines with Daniel wouldn’t be too comforting either.

  Like a tentative lamb, he walked down the gravel driveway and made his way along the right side of the wagon. Daniel’s sharp stare stopped him.

  “Are you going to drive?” he asked, his eyebrows fused.

  “What?”

  “The right side is the driver’s side.”

  Hanging his head, Aiden shuffled around the back of the wagon to the passenger side—the left side. Though it would’ve been just as easy for him to climb up the right side and slide across the bench, he did not want to butt heads with Daniel over trivialities. With a few slips off the wagon’s wooden wheel, he did a pretty good job climbing into an Amish vehicle for his first time, if he did think so himself. Daniel climbed up the driver’s side and remained mute. Once settled, Daniel, his sleeves rolled exposing muscular, tanned forearms, tugged the reins and murmured, “Get, Badger,” without so much as a glance at his English travel companion.

  “Should be a good day for an open wagon ride,” Aiden said as the sleek black gelding pulled them down the driveway with the crunch of gravel under the wagon wheels. “With the heat it’ll be a lot cooler. By the look at the sky maybe we’ll even get a little sprinkle.”

  “Doubt it’ll rain this early.” Daniel steered Badger left, past the Schrock’s mailbox and onto the blacktop lane.

  Out of the corners of his eyes, Aiden studied the stalwart Amish man to his right. He’s a stern one, he thought, wondering just what compelled Daniel to dislike him so much. Last night during supper, Daniel again had spoken not a word to him, and had looked away whenever Aiden had caught him glaring. Even when the family had gathered to play Blitz in pairs at the dining table and eat Jiffy Pop, Daniel had avoided him. After five hands he’d grown restless and again had hid out in his woodshop for the remainder of the night.

  Aiden thought it best to refrain from forcing a conversation until Daniel’s bitter mood mellowed—if it would at all. For the time being, he settled into his seat and watched the landscape pass by.

  Rich green farmland, almost dripping with humidity, stretched all around them. The muggy air held the stench of manure and the tea-like aroma of the sycamore trees that clustered by the white farmhouses. The Amish owned most of the land on this southern edge of Frederick County, and many were laboring in their fields. Aiden watched the women and girls putter in their country gardens or hang laundry on clotheslines. Small children frolicked in their yards barefoot or stood on porches eating apples or oranges and watching passers-by on the lane. One small boy balancing himself on crutches waved to them; Aiden waved back.

  A black family buggy approached from behind and Daniel gave the driver a wider passing berth. Both Daniel and the driver nodded to each other, touching the rims of their straw hats. Daniel mumbled something about Badger being slower than poor Dexter and how he wished he was at the furniture shop with Mark and David instead of driving to the horse auction.

  Daniel’s grumbling gave Aiden an opening.

  “I’m really sorry about Dexter,” he said, hoping Daniel would now want to chat.

  Daniel’s broad shoulder’s tightened. He tugged at Badger’s reins. “Horse is as slow as molasses.”

  “I’m sorry about Bobby Jonesboro too,” Aiden dared say. He squinted at him, bracing for his reaction. He had to know for sure if Daniel resented him for the man’s death.

  Daniel huffed. “He asked for it.”

  Aiden sat up, stiff. “What do you mean?”

  “He was a drunk. Never did care for him, or his type.”

  “You two weren’t close friends?”

  Daniel snickered. “Me and Bobby Jonesboro, friends? What gave you that idea? He’s somewhat of a different character from me. A crazy Englisher, that’s what he was. God has His hands full with that one.”

  Shrinking in his seat, Aiden wondered why Daniel acted so irritable around him if he didn’t blame him for Bobby Jonesboro’s death. He wasn’t like that with everyone. When his neighbors Gunny and Micah had stopped by yesterday, he had behaved as charmingly as a diplomat. Maybe he thought Aiden a sissy for falling from the binding machine? But Daniel showed contempt for him even before that, from the moment they sat down to supper that first night. Did he resent Aiden for taking his bedroom? No grown man could be that childish.

  Was he angry with him for writing an article about his family, trying to profit from them in some way? Few people enjoyed being thrust under a microscope; still, outsiders were interested in how the Amish lived. Pretending otherwise would be impractical. Even the Schrocks profited from English curiosity, selling hand-crafted Amish furniture that the English took back to their modern suburban homes.

  Aiden wondered if his temperament had to do with his mysterious wife. Did she run off, leaving him shattered and bitter? Aiden sympathized. He too had brooked the pain of abandonment.

/>   He wanted to ask Daniel about his wife, and why three months ago he’d moved back home, apparently without her. But, of all the Schrocks, Daniel was the least approachable. Discussing personal matters with him would be like salmon-fishing alongside a grizzly.

  A new thought bit into Aiden. Did Daniel, an ultraorthodox Christian, suspect he was gay and resent him for it? He never perceived himself so easily identifiable, but he supposed some might guess, especially since he was unmarried and never pretended to show any interest in females. Was it obvious to Daniel that Aiden was physically attracted to him? He had faced antipathy for his sexuality in the past, but nothing blatant. No one had ever denounced him for it, at least not openly. The notion that Daniel might bothered him a great deal.

  They stopped before a two-lane county road. Daniel checked for traffic and steered the gelding right onto the busier thoroughfare. Two passing cars took Aiden off guard, and he instinctively clutched his straw hat and held onto his seat.

  “How do you get used to that?” he asked, straightening as the cars sped off.

  “Actually, you don’t.”

  Scenes from Sunday’s car accident flashed across Aiden’s mind. Riding in the open wagon, he realized just how gruesome a speeding car plowing into a horse-drawn vehicle could be. Certain things about the Amish and English worlds, despite generations living rather harmoniously side by side, still made a horrible match. Nothing, he thought, made for a collision of cultures more than horse-drawn vehicles and modern automobiles.

  Daniel had yet to thank him for saving his family from such a ghastly scenario. Whether one disliked a person for whatever reasons, surely such an act warranted at least a rudimentary expression of gratitude. Even if Daniel did despise him for being gay.

  He could tell Daniel did not want to talk with him. Yet, despite Daniel’s remoteness, Aiden yearned to build a bridge. He thought back to his first night relaxing with the family amid the glow of lanterns. Better judgment eluding him, he blurted, “So, I hear you like to backpack.”

  Daniel waited several seconds before responding. “Ya.”

  “I was surprised when your parents told me that. I didn’t think the Amish did that kind of thing.”

  For the first time Daniel looked straight at Aiden, but he shot him a hostile, condemning look, a look so harsh Aiden would rather he had continued to peer over the horse’s rump and ignore him.

  “Amish do lots of things real people do,” he said, and faced back to the road.

  Aiden heard a loud grunt. Whether it came from the horse or Daniel, he did not know. “I meant that you’re so busy with all your hard work, too busy for, well…. Your whole life is sort of like…. You live a subsistence lifestyle every day. Most people backpack so they can be more self-reliant, to get away from modern life. That’s why I do it. I love to backpack.” He scrutinized Daniel’s unmoving face. He wondered if he could ever say anything right in front of the Amish man.

  His expression remained hard, but inside Daniel knew he should lighten up on the poor Englisher. Aiden did save his family, he reluctantly admitted. He should probably say something to him, express a few words of appreciation. He feared becoming too friendly with him. What good could come from it? They lived in two different worlds.

  Sure, he liked Aiden. He liked him more than he wanted to admit. He simply did not like spending an entire day with a stranger, one who was most likely taking mental notes about all he said for some English article. He didn’t trust reporter types. He didn’t trust anyone outside of his own community. He still thought his parents’ inviting him to stay with them a shussly idea. Nonetheless, Aiden was trying his best to be civil. Perhaps he should too.

  “Ya, I figure you didn’t mean no harm.”

  Aiden’s shoulders lowered. He apparently wasn’t so quick to give up trying to pull Daniel out of his shell. “What places have you gone backpacking?”

  “Different places around,” Daniel said, his tone stubbornly insipid. “Wisconsin, Kentucky. Downstate at Shawnee National Forest.”

  “Shawnee? I’ve heard of that place. I’d like to check it out some time. Is backpacking one of the things you did for rumspringa?”

  “While most my friends lived English lives doing things I wouldn’t do, I backpacked different places. I did Shawnee for an entire week alone. I hiked the River to River Trail that goes from one side of the state to the other, the Ohio River to the Mississippi.”

  “Wow!”

  “It’s only about fifty miles, but it was real nice.”

  “Where else have you been?”

  “I backpacked Montana about a year ago.”

  “Montana? Really? Your parents told me you traveled out west. Where in Montana?”

  “Glacier National Park. I always wanted to see it. Don’t think I’ll ever much forget it.” Daniel spoke more to himself than to Aiden. He almost smelled the pine-scented forest, felt the cooling shade from the towering hemlocks. “I would like to go back; I miss it. I like for sure the western US and the mountains.”

  “Me too.” Aiden stretched out his legs. “I’ve always thought about living out there. It’s been a dream of mine.”

  “So you said at supper the other night.”

  Daniel could see Aiden relax. He had tilted his head toward the washed sky and was smiling at the warblers and robins flying from branch to branch in the trees that dotted along the road. He was glad that he no longer caused him as much anguish, but he was unsure how long it would last. He still believed Aiden’s being there was just not right. He made everything all boogered.

  “I’d love to buy some land near Glacier, build a cabin,” Aiden said. “If I ever get out there.”

  “There’s a small Amish community near Glacier,” Daniel said, his worries scratching at him like an old worn-out straw hat. “A town called Rose Crossing.”

  “There is? Really?”

  “I visited while I was out there. They even asked me to stay, since the community is only a few years old and they would like new members. Not a lot of marriageable men my age there. But I couldn’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know how it is. A man can’t just up and leave. I got family here. There’s the shop. Besides, I was to get married in a few weeks.”

  “It would be nice to live there, though.”

  “Ya.” Daniel sighed. “It would be nice.”

  An unexpected slope in the road caused Aiden to press against Daniel. Unable to resist the centrifugal force, Aiden pressed against him for what seemed several minutes; in reality a few seconds lapsed. Daniel felt Aiden’s surprisingly taut muscles. He tensed, but held steady to the reins and focused on the road.

  “Sorry.” Aiden slid farther to his side of the bench once the wagon came out of the slope. “I can be a klutz sometimes, I guess.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Daniel tugged on the reins and squirmed in his seat. “Not your fault you don’t know how to ride in a wagon.”

  As they neared the I-57 underpass, Aiden saw something that furthered his embarrassment. Larger than some of the region’s barns loomed an adult “superstore.” A sign jutting high above the vast parking lot, tall enough for drivers on the Interstate to see, proclaimed everything inside: adult books, erotica, DVDs, sex toys. Several semi-trailers, commercial pickups, even a few RVs, filled a quarter of the lot.

  Aiden slumped in his seat and lowered his hat to conceal his eyes. The morning sun burning through the haze added to the heat on his searing cheeks. Glimpsing under the brim, he gauged Daniel’s reaction. Surely he’d traveled this road many times. But Daniel fixed his eyes as if he saw only Badger’s collar.

  Along the northbound lanes of I-57, Aiden saw something else that made his cheeks burn: a huge billboard with a picture of Jesus Christ gazing down disapprovingly over the adult store. Large block lettering underneath read: “Jesus Is Watching You.”

  Trapped in a horse-drawn wagon with an Amish man he knew distrusted him and seeing such a radical display of sexua
l solicitation and religious iconoclasm, both frowned upon by the Amish, demonstrated within one small parcel of Midwestern land, Aiden’s mind whirled. He wanted to ask about the adult establishment and the billboard, but Aiden knew better than that. Talking with Daniel about the weather stirred up enough trouble, much less sex and religion.

  Daniel paid no attention to any of it; he held Badger farther to the right of the road to avoid being sideswiped by the occasional car using the on and off ramps to the Interstate.