The Farmer Next Door

by Patricia Davids

  “What’s the matter with your leg?” Kyle had noticed her brace.

  “I hurt it a long time ago and it didn’t heal well so now I have to wear this brace.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Sometimes, but not today.”

  Grasping the gate to steady herself, Faith spoke soothingly to Myrtle in Pennsylvania Dutch. When the new mother was calm, Faith crossed the pen carefully with Kyle at her side. Myrtle allowed them both to admire her baby, but the baby remained hidden behind his mother.

  Kyle squatted down in the bedding and held out his hand. “Come here, little fella. I won’t hurt you.”

  “Perhaps he wants a name first. What do you think we should call him? He’s black as night. Shall we call him Midnight?”

  “No, that’s a girly name.”

  Feeling put in her girly place, Faith held back a chuckle. “All right, what would you like to call him?”

  “I want to call him Shadow.”

  She considered it. “Shadow. I think that’s a very good name for him.”

  By this time the cria had grown accustomed to their presence and ventured out from behind his mother. Kyle extended his hand. “Come here, Shadow.”

  Shadow approached slowly, wobbling as he walked. Barely bigger than a tomcat with impossibly long legs, he was still trying to learn to use them.

  It was clear he was as curious about the boy as the boy was about him. Kyle inched forward and touched the baby alpaca’s head. Shadow frisked away behind his mother but didn’t stay there. He returned after a moment to investigate further.

  Faith said, “Kyle, I think he likes you.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “Since you have chosen his name, would you like to be his owner?”

  “Can I?” Kyle looked up with uncertainty in his eyes.

  “There are many things you will have to learn in order to take good care of him. It will be hard work. Are you willing to do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “I don’t mean for one day. I mean everyday.”

  “If you show me what to do.”

  Myrtle began stamping one foot and making huffing sounds. Faith said, “His mother says he has had enough play time. We should let him rest.”

  “He’s really neat. Thanks, Aunt Faith.”

  She held open the gate to let him out of the stall. “You’re welcome, Kyle. Let’s go back to the house. I’m sure Miss Watkins is wondering where we are.”

  When they reached the house, Kyle went in ahead of her. Miss Watkins sat at the kitchen table fanning herself with a sheet of paper. Faith said, “Kyle, why don’t you go explore the house.”

  “Okay.” He left the room.

  Miss Watkins slid several sheets of paper toward Faith. “We have only two more documents to sign, Mrs. Martin. It won’t take long. Now, you understand this is a temporary guardianship until the court hearing next month.”

  “Ja, I understand.”

  “Good. I’ll be back to visit Kyle several times before the hearing and see how things are going for the two of you. Expect me at noon the day after tomorrow. These transitions don’t always go smoothly, so be prepared for that.”

  “I will.”

  After Faith signed the papers waiting for her, she walked with Miss Watkins to the door. “Thank you for all your help.”

  “I’m just doing my job. The judge will consider my recommendations when making a decision about the adoption.”

  “Of course.” Faith wanted to hug the woman. It was finally sinking in. Kyle was here. At long last, God had given her a child.

  “Aunt Faith?”

  She and Miss Watkins turned around. Faith asked, “What is it, Kyle?”

  “Where’s your TV?”

  At the end of their first day together, Faith helped Kyle get ready for bed. The scared, lost look she’d seen on his face when he’d first arrived had returned.

  Setting his suitcase on a chair beside the bed, she began putting his clothes into the lowest drawers of the dresser against the wall where small hands could reach them easily.

  Her hand encountered something hard tucked in between his pajamas and T-shirts. When she pulled it out, she saw it was a photograph of her brother and his wife.

  Faith let her hand drift over the glass as she studied her brother’s face. He had changed a great deal in the twelve years that he’d been gone. A man looked back at her, not the boy she remembered. The woman with him had dark brown hair and green eyes, a stunning combination.

  “That’s my mom and dad.” Kyle reached for the picture.

  “You look just like him.” She handed the forbidden image to the boy.

  He kissed the picture and looked around the room. “I think I’ll want this by the bed so I can see it when I open my eyes.”

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him the photograph would have to be put away. He had lost too much already. She wouldn’t take away this reminder of his parents. Not yet.

  She patted his head. “On your bedside table will be fine for now.”

  Turning away, she opened his windows to dispel the room’s stuffiness and to hide the tears that stung her eyes. When she had a grip on her raw emotions, she turned around. He was already under the covers.

  “You will be too hot under all of this.” She drew back the quilt and folded it to the foot of the bed, leaving him with just a sheet.

  He looked around, then sat up in bed. “I need a fan to sleep with.”

  “I don’t have one. The breeze from the windows will keep you cool.”

  He pointed at the lantern she had placed on the dresser. “Can I keep the light on?”

  “If you leave it on all night the battery will go dead.”

  “Please? I don’t like the dark.”

  “I reckon it’ll be okay. I have more batteries.”

  Relief flickered in his eyes. He scooted down in bed and pulled the sheet up to his chin. His red hair and freckles stood out in stark relief against the white bedclothes. Once again she was reminded of his father.

  She asked, “Do you want to say your prayers before you go to sleep?”

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I don’t know any.”

  Surprised, she asked, “You don’t? Did not your mother and father teach you your prayers?”

  “I know one but I don’t like it anymore.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I will say my prayers and you can listen and add anything you want to say. How’s that?”

  He didn’t consent, but he didn’t object so Faith dropped awkwardly to her knees. Pain shot through her leg, but she ignored it. She folded her hands and bowed her head.

  “Dear Father in heaven, Kyle and I give you thanks for the blessings You have shown us today. I’m so happy that he is here with me. Thank You for bringing him safely to my home.”

  “You could say thanks for giving me Shadow,” Kyle whispered.

  She nodded and closed her eyes. “Kyle and I both want to thank You for the gift of little Shadow. He brings us great joy with his playful ways.”

  She peeked at her nephew. “Anything else?”

  He shook his head. Closing her eyes again, she said, “Bless us and help us to do Your will, Lord. Help us to live as You would have us live, humbly and simply, ever mindful of Your grace as we go about our daily tasks. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who have sinned against us. Amen.”

  “Are you done?” he asked.

  She smiled softly at him. “I’m done.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?” Worry crept back into his voice as she struggled to her feet.

  Tucking the sheet around him, she said, “I will be right across the hall. If you need anything, just call out. Okay?”

  “I guess. Can you leave the door open?”

  “Certainly. Try to get some sleep.”

  “Am I going to stay here a long time?”

  “I hope so, darling.”

  “Who decides if I stay or go to a another house? Do
you?”

  “It will be up to Miss Watkins and a judge to decide. If God wishes it, you will stay with me a long, long time.” She bent down, kissed his brow and went to her own room.

  Hours later she came awake with a jolt. Someone was screaming.

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  Kyle! She shot out of bed, stumbling without her brace toward his room.

  Chapter Ten

  The door to Kyle’s room stood open, but he wasn’t in the bed. Frantic, Faith rushed in and searched the room. The lantern’s battery was nearly depleted. It gave only a feeble, flickering light, but it was enough to let her see him huddled in the corner by the closet.

  Some instinct made her approach him slowly. “Kyle, dearest, what’s wrong?”

  His eyes were open, but she knew he wasn’t seeing her. He turned his head from side to side, sobbing. “Mommy? Mommy?”

  Faith lowered herself to the floor. “Kyle, it’s Aenti Faith. Can you hear me? Everything is all right. You’ve had a nightmare, that’s all.”

  He sat with his arms around his knees. His little body trembled violently.

  Faith moved closer. “It’s all right, baby. It’s all right. I’m here.”

  Suddenly, his eyes focused on her. He launched himself into her arms. Faith held him close, rocking him and stroking his hair as she murmured words of comfort.

  He said, “I don’t like it here. I want to go home.”

  “You are home, sweetheart. This is your new home, now.”

  He didn’t answer, but slowly, his sobs died away. After a time, he fell asleep.

  Faith sat holding him for a long time. Her heart bled for the pain he had endured in his young life. She could only pray that time and her love would heal his wounded soul.

  When she was sure he was fast asleep, she struggled to her feet and carried him to his bed. After tucking him in, she lay down beside him in case he woke again and waited for the morning to come.

  Miss Watkins would be back to check on him at noon tomorrow. If she learned how unhappy he was, would she take him away?

  Late-morning sunshine glinted through the orchard canopy dappling the ground with dancing patterns of light and shadow as Adrian set to work harvesting the first of Faith’s fruit. He hadn’t been at it long when the hair at the back of his neck started to prickle.

  Someone was watching him.

  He lowered his fruit-picking pole to the ground. One of the alpacas, perhaps?

  A quick check around showed he had Faith’s orchard to himself. Shrugging off the feeling, he raised a long pole with a wire basket and a branch snipper on the end up into the branches of Faith’s trees. As he worked, he transferred the peaches he’d plucked into a bushel basket at his feet. When he was finished gathering the fruit from one tree, he moved on to another. The feeling that he was being watched didn’t leave.

  As he emptied the pole basket into a larger one, a shower of leaves made him look up into the tree above him. The sight that greeted his eyes sent a slash of pain through his heart.

  A red-haired, freckled-faced kind peered down through the leaves of a peach tree. The boy looked so much like his son that for a second he thought he was dreaming.

  “Gideon?” He barely breathed the name.

  The face disappeared back into the foliage. A small, disembodied voice asked, “Are you going to make me go away?”

  The voice didn’t belong to Gideon. This wasn’t his son come back from the grave. Who was it? Adrian said, “Come down from there.”

  A few seconds later a pair of sneakers appeared. A boy lowered himself until he hung suspended from a branch with his shoes about three feet off the ground.

  The kid shot Adrian a scowl. “Can I get a little help here?”

  Adrian’s racing heart slowed. Now that he had a better view of the boy, he could see the red hair and freckles were the only things that were similar to his son. This was an Englisch boy. He was several years older than Gideon had been. Stepping forward, Adrian grasped the boy’s waist and lowered him to the ground.

  “Thanks.” The kid dusted his hands together, then cocked his head to the side as he studied Adrian. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Are you going to take me away?”

  “Nee.”

  “Are you going to be my new dad if the judge makes Aunt Faith my new mom?”

  Realization dawned on Adrian. The boy was Faith’s nephew. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks that God had seen fit to bring her the child she longed for.

  “I will not be your father. I’m a neighbor from down the road. I’m helping your aenti harvest her peaches.”

  “Oh. That’s okay then. I didn’t want a new dad. Aunt Faith is nice and all, but I want my real dad and mom to come back.”

  “They cannot come back from heaven.”

  Looking down, the boy kicked a fallen peach and sent it rolling through the grass. “Yeah, I know.”

  Adrian knew exactly what the boy was feeling. He said, “My name is Adrian Lapp. What is yours?”

  “Howdy, Mr. Lapp. I’m Kyle King,” the boy drawled.

  “If you have nothing better to do, Kyle King, you can help me finish picking this fruit.”

  He didn’t look enthused. “I don’t know how. Do you have TV at your house?”

  “Nee, it is veldlich and is verboten.”

  “Huh?”

  “It is a worldly thing and forbidden to us.”

  “How come you talk so funny?”

  “Because I am Amish. How come you talk so funny?”

  Kyle’s solemn face cracked a tiny smile. “Because I’m a Texan.”

  “Ah. Do they have peaches in Texas?”

  “I guess.”

  “But you have never picked peaches in Texas.”

  “Nope. We lived in Houston. Mom got our peaches from the grocery store.”

  “Houston, is that a big town?”

  Kyle raised one eyebrow. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nee, I am not.”

  “What does nee mean?”

  “It is Pennsylvania Dutch and it means no.”

  “Then why don’t you just say no?”

  “Because I am Amish and that is the language we speak.”

  “Oh. My aunt Faith is Amish, too. That’s why she wears those funny dresses and that thing on her head.”

  “It is called a prayer kapp. It signifies her devotion to God.”

  “I’m not going to wear one ’cause I don’t like God. He’s mean.”

  “You must not say such a thing.”

  “It’s true. My foster mom said God wanted my mom and dad with Him in heaven more than He wanted them to be here. That proves He isn’t nice.”

  “I think she meant God needed them in heaven more than He needed them here.”

  Those were the same words Adrian’s family and friends had used to try and comfort him, to help explain the inexplicable reasons why first his wife and then his son had been taken away. Like Kyle, Adrian found no comfort in the words.

  The boy picked up a peach and threw it against a nearby tree, splattering the soft fruit against the rough bark. “I needed them more.”

  Faced with the impotent fury of this child, Adrian put aside his own feelings of bitterness and sought a way to help the boy. “You have a good arm, Kyle. Do you like baseball?”

  “Sure. My dad was the coach of my team. He taught me everything about baseball. He was going to get me a new mitt when he picked me up after school, but he never came back. Why did God have to take him away?”

  Adrian plucked a wormy peach from an overhead branch and threw it. It smashed into bits against the same tree. “We cannot know God’s reasons. We can only pray that one day we will see our loved ones again.”

  “Did your parents die, too?”

  “No. God took my wife and my son to heaven.”

  Kyle chucked two peaches toward the hapless tree. Only one hit the target. He squinted up at Adrian. “So, do you hate God, too?”


  Faith faced Miss Watkins across the kitchen table. This was the social worker’s first visit to see how Kyle was adjusting to life on the farm. Faith had never been more nervous in her life. She wished Adrian were here. She could use his solid presence beside her to bolster her courage.

  Caroline checked the contents of the refrigerator, made a few notes in her folder and asked, “How’s it going?”

  “As well as can be expected.” Faith kept her hands still, trying not to fidget.

  “Can you elaborate a little more?”

  Faith wasn’t sure what the woman wanted to know. “Kyle didn’t have much of an appetite yesterday, but he ate a good breakfast this morning. He adores the alpacas, especially the baby. He misses his friends and his foster parents. We went to the phone booth yesterday evening and called his buddies, Tyrell and Dylan.”

  Should she mention Kyle woke in the night and was crying, or would that count against her?

  “Did talking to the boys upset Kyle?”

  “Maybe a little. It has to be hard being pulled from all he knew.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Upstairs in his room. Shall I get him?”

  “We can go up together. I’d like to see his room now that he’s settled.”

  Faith led the way up the narrow fight of stairs to the bedroom opposite hers. She opened the door to Kyle’s room expecting to see him reading or coloring at his desk. He wasn’t in the room. His bedroom window stood wide open with the screen pushed out.

  She rushed to the window. The porch roof beyond was empty. The limbs of the old oak beside the house overhung the porch offering an adventurous boy a way down to the ground.

  “He’s gone.” Faith heard the panic in her voice as she turned to the social worker.

  Miss Watkins said, “Maybe he came downstairs and we didn’t notice.”

  It took only a few minutes to search the house and see he wasn’t in it. Where could he be? Faith opened the front door and stepped onto the porch with Miss Watkins right behind her. Faith scanned the yard. At least Kyle wasn’t lying unconscious on the ground beneath the tree.