Trading Secrets

by Melody Carlson

  Once the clinic is cleaned, I take some paper towels and bleach solution outside, scrubbing blood from the door handle and steps. That’s when I notice the woman’s SUV still parked right in front with its doors wide open and decide to give it a quick cleanup as well. I wipe down the driver’s seat area, but when I look in the back of the SUV, I nearly lose it. Slamming that door closed, I decide Ms. Hamilton will need to hire professionals to eradicate those stains.

  As I go inside, I say another prayer for Gretchen. After she’s lost that much blood, I question if she will even survive. However, I do know that she’s probably receiving a transfusion and IV by now. I can’t help but wonder what Zach thinks about all this drama and trauma. I know he’s a farm boy and his stomach is way stronger than mine, but it all might be overwhelming too. Is he able to help my uncle, or is he simply watching in horror? Only time will tell.

  21

  It’s well past 9:00 when Uncle Brad finishes working on Gretchen. By now, I’ve talked to my dad twice and Lizzie once (asking her to kitty-sit for me), encouraged Jennifer to go home to wait, picked up green tea smoothies for Zach and my uncle to sip on while they worked, cleaned up the private bathroom, attended to some housekeeping chores in my uncle’s messy bachelor pad, and done a lot of praying for Gretchen. I’m so exhausted, and I can’t even imagine how tired my uncle and Zach must be.

  “Dad suggested that Zach and I spend the night with you,” I tell my uncle when he hangs up the phone after letting Jennifer know that Gretchen is resting now.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” he says as we all trudge upstairs. “You can have the spare room, Micah, and Zach can have the couch.” He elbows Zach. “If you don’t mind. Otherwise you two can flip a coin.”

  “I don’t mind the couch,” Zach assures him.

  “You guys hungry?” Uncle Brad opens the door to his apartment. “I’ve got a bunch of leftover spaghetti that Claire made last night. And some salad and French bread too. She’s at a bachelorette party tonight, and I think she was worried that I’d starve without her.”

  “You guys go clean up or put your feet up or whatever,” I tell them. “I’ll get out the leftovers.”

  Before long, we’re sitting around his little kitchen table, hungrily polishing off all of Claire’s leftovers. Zach and my uncle are talking about Gretchen’s multiple injuries and predicting what her prognosis might be.

  “I think she’ll regain use of that leg,” my uncle tells Zach as he reaches for another slice of French bread.

  Zach turns to me. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Your uncle is a very gifted surgeon.”

  Uncle Brad pokes Zach in the arm. “And you, my friend, were a very gifted surgical assistant. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “What would you have done if Zach wasn’t there?” I ask.

  “Normally, I would’ve called Marie or Doc Tyler. But no telling if they’d have been available. Marie had a hot date tonight. And as far as I know, Doc Tyler is still cruising Alaska.” He grins at Zach. “No kidding, you were invaluable.”

  “What did you do?” I ask Zach.

  “Whatever your uncle asked.” He grins. “At least I tried. I don’t know the names of all the surgical tools and things he asked for. But somehow we managed to get Gretchen sewn back together. You really want all the gory details?”

  I wrinkle my nose at him. “No thanks.”

  We follow up our dinner with ice cream, then Zach and my uncle slip back down to check on Gretchen while I clean up our dinner things. When they return they are having a conversation about cell phones.

  “Unfortunately, cell phones have become a necessary evil,” my uncle is saying. “A lot of people have disconnected landlines and their only phones are cellular.”

  “I understand that,” Zach tells him. “What I don’t understand is why so many people can’t seem to put their cell phones down. It’s as if their phones are an IV, like the one you put on Gretchen tonight. Like they can’t live without being connected.”

  Uncle Brad laughs as he gets a glass of water. “Good analogy. I know what you mean. I get so aggravated when I go to a movie—which I seldom do—and someone is sitting there texting throughout the whole film. They don’t realize how annoying that little flashing screen can be.”

  “I noticed something else today too,” Zach tells him. “Actually, I noticed it yesterday too, but today just seemed to make it even more clear. Micah and I were on the beach. On Lake Erie. It was so beautiful. We just walked and talked and enjoyed it. There were lots of other people out there too, but so many of them were talking into their phones or playing with their phones. I doubt they even noticed how amazing the water looked with sunlight sparkling on the ripples, or how the snowy white clouds were drifting across such a clear blue sky. How could they with their attention on their phones?”

  “Sad, isn’t it?” my uncle says.

  “It made me wonder, if everyone is so connected to their phones—talking and texting and whatever it is they do all day long—how do they ever have time to notice the beauty of God’s creation all around them? How do they have time to connect to God?”

  “That’s a very good question,” I say as I close the dishwasher.

  “Like some people are so overconnected that they’re actually disconnected?” Uncle Brad says as he sets his glass in the sink.

  “Ja.” Zach nods eagerly. “That’s what I think.”

  “I think I agree with you,” I tell him.

  “I do too . . . for the most part. Except that I’m going to have to contradict myself by calling Claire now. I promised to tell her good night.” He holds up his cell phone with a goofy grin. “I’ll tell you kids good night too.” He clasps Zach’s shoulder. “Thanks again, buddy. You were truly a godsend this evening.”

  I can see Zach’s worn out, so I tell them both good night and retire to the sparsely appointed spare room, where (despite agreeing with Zach’s philosophy about being overconnected) I text Lizzie to check on how my kitty is doing. She assures me that the sister kitties are enjoying a reunion, and I text her back a thank-you, promising to return the favor if she ever needs a kitty-sitter. Then I go to bed.

  When I get up the next morning, both Zach and my uncle are gone. Suspecting they’re down in the clinic, I take a quick shower and put on my clothes from yesterday. Okay, I feel a little grungy, but it’s nothing compared to how I felt while working on Zach’s farm. I find the guys down in the kennel, doing the rounds.

  “Hey, you want to run out and get us some breakfast?” my uncle asks me. “I’m craving an Egg McMuffin this morning, and Zach claims he’s never had one.”

  I snicker. “I can’t even imagine how a fast-food breakfast will compare to what Zach’s used to eating at his house.” I describe one of the usual farm breakfasts, which only makes my uncle hungrier.

  “Hurry,” he tells me. “Zach and I will finish checking on the patients while you’re gone.”

  While I’m waiting for our order at McDonald’s, my dad calls. “Hey, I’ve got an idea you might like,” he says eagerly. “How about if you and I drive Zach down to Holmes County tomorrow to take him home. We could make a whole day of it and even stop at the aviation museum along the way.”

  “Zach really wants to see that,” I tell him. I’m about to question whether or not Zach really wants to go home, but my order is up. “I’ll ask him about it and get back to you, okay?”

  By the time I get back to the clinic, Marie has shown up. “The guys went upstairs,” she tells me.

  “You’re working today?” As I recall, Marie doesn’t usually work on Saturdays.

  “Brad’s going to an out-of-town wedding with Claire this afternoon. I promised to fill in.”

  “How’s Gretchen doing?” I realize that I forgot to ask my uncle earlier.

  “She looks real good,” Marie confirms. “Her owner is coming by this morning to visit.”

  “Tell Jennifer hi for me.” I wave the bag of food. “I bette
r get this upstairs.”

  I don’t tell Zach about Dad’s suggestion until we’re on our way home. I suspect by how quiet he gets that he’s not so sure. “I’m not saying you have to go home,” I say in a backtracking sort of way. “I mean, that’s totally up to you. Dad just thought if you needed a ride, it might be fun to drive down there. And we could stop at the aviation museum along the way since it’s down by Akron. He thinks you’d really enjoy seeing all those old fighter jets.”

  “Ja . . . I’m sure I would.”

  “So, anyway . . . think about it.”

  “I have thought about it,” he declares. “It’s a good idea. I’ll accept your dad’s offer.”

  I’m a little surprised but try to hide it. “Cool. I mean, great. It should be a fun trip.” The truth is, I’m a little uneasy to see Zach’s farm again. I mean, on one hand, I can’t wait to see it. But at the same time I really don’t want to see his mom. I can only imagine the frosty way she will glare at me if she sees me “returning her son” like this.

  “How will your family react?” I ask as I exit the expressway. “I mean, will they be glad to see you?”

  He shrugs. “It’s hard to say.”

  “Do you think they’ll be angry?”

  “Mamm might be a little vexed that I left when I did.” He shakes his head. “Especially considering how she worked so hard to get Rachel Yoder to come visit.”

  “You mean by hurting her foot?” I glance his way. “Do you think she did that on purpose?”

  He makes a small, humorless laugh. “I doubt she’d go that far. But she certainly made the most of it.”

  “Rachel is a lovely young woman.” Okay, I cannot believe I just said this. Really?

  “Ja, that is true enough.”

  I decide that since I’m in this deep, I might as well just go for it. “Rachel is an excellent cook and a good housekeeper. I was impressed with how she stepped right in to handle your mother’s responsibilities. As if she was made for it.”

  “That is for sure.”

  “She’s hardworking and cheerful—as if she loves to work.”

  “Ja, there is no doubt about that.” His tone remains cool and aloof, as if he’s playing a game with me. Or maybe he’s irritated. It’s hard to tell.

  “She would make a great wife—for an Amish guy, I mean.”

  “You sound like my mother, Micah. Are you saying you think I should marry Rachel?”

  “No, no, of course not.”

  “Then what?” He turns and stares at me.

  “I don’t know . . . I, uh . . . ” I stammer. “I mean you could do worse, Zach.”

  He lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

  “Can’t you see that Rachel is in love with you?”

  “In love?” He seems genuinely surprised.

  “Yes. I saw her, Zach. The way she looked at you, catered to you. The girl is clearly in love.”

  He slowly shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Well, I’m a girl and I do,” I declare as I turn onto my street. “Rachel just lit up whenever you were nearby. She went out of her way to get your attention. Are you saying you didn’t notice that?”

  He shrugs. “Not particularly.”

  “Well, maybe you should.”

  “Should what?” He sounds aggravated as I pull into the carport.

  “Should take notice.”

  “Fine,” he opens the door, gets out, then firmly closes it. “I will.”

  As we go into the condo, I wonder, did we just have our first fight? And if so, why?

  When we get inside, I see a note saying that Dad’s playing golf with a buddy. Zach, who’s still acting annoyed, maintains a very low profile. He goes directly for the guest room, and I go pick up my kitty. Then, while I’m doing some laundry, he slips out to take a walk. This time he leaves a note. As I’m folding a load of my clothes, I begin to feel irked. Is this how Zach shows his gratitude for all that I’ve done for him—working to plant corn, spending time with his family, bringing him home with me—he just takes off by himself on the last afternoon that we have to spend together? What is wrong with that boy?

  “Hello, Princess,” Dad says cheerfully as he comes into the house through the garage.

  Despite my gloomy mood, I can’t help but smile at the old term of endearment. “Someone must’ve had a good golf game,” I tease.

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” He hangs his jacket by the back door. “And I have a great plan for our last evening with Zach.”

  I give him a glum look.

  “What?” he says defensively. “Did I say something wrong?”

  I explain how I’m feeling out of sorts with Zach. “He just took off without saying a word.”

  “Oh.” Dad nods. “Well, I’m sure that young man has a lot on his mind.”

  “But how about all that I’ve done for him?” I demand. “I mean, I’ve given up my entire spring break for the guy. And that’s the thanks I get?”

  Dad gives me a crooked smile. “You did all that for him?”

  I take in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “Yeah, okay, you’re probably right. I did it for me too. But I really did want to—” I stop myself when I realize that Zach has just come in the front door.

  “Hello there,” my dad calls out. “Just the guy I wanted to see.”

  Zach joins us in the kitchen with a puzzled expression. “Ja? Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I just had a chat with my brother, and he was singing your praises, Zach. He asked me to take you to dinner and a movie tonight to express his gratitude. You up for that?”

  Zach brightens. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Have you ever seen a movie before? In a theater?”

  “No.” He shakes his head.

  “Well, there just happens to be a great one playing. It involves airplanes and fast cars. Think you can handle that?”

  Zach’s eyes light up. “Ja. That sounds great.”

  “All right then.” Dad looks at me. “You kids have about thirty minutes to get ready. We’ll have dinner at Spencer’s Grill first, and we should have plenty of time to make it to the 7:45 showing. Okay?”

  I mutely agree, but I cannot say that I’m happy about this plan. However, since Zach seems to be thrilled, I go along with it. So this is how I am to spend my last evening with Zach—eating steak and potatoes and watching an action movie, with my dad as our chaperone. Okay, I know that’s not really how Dad sees it. But that’s how it feels to me.

  By the time we’re driving back home, everyone seems pretty tired. Since we plan to get up early tomorrow, hoping to get to the air museum as soon as it opens, we all go to bed as soon as we get there. Still feeling irked after I’m in bed, I’m tempted to get up and sneak out in the hopes I can have a few final words with Zach. But realizing how that could be misinterpreted, I don’t.

  The next morning, after dropping my kitten at Lizzie’s again (although Erika is the designated kitty-sitter since Lizzie is going shopping today), we get ready to begin our day trip. Zach places a large plastic bag containing his clothes in the trunk of Dad’s car. I know his Amish clothes are in there too because I see the straw hat on top. Right now Zach’s wearing Dad’s hand-me-downs, though. I suspect he wants to be incognito while we visit the air museum, which, ironically, is a military museum. Something about an Amish guy, who’s expected to be a pacifist, studying fighter jets might get him some unwanted attention.

  When we get in the car, I insist Zach sit in front with Dad, saying that I prefer the backseat and my iPad. The truth is, I’m sulking. Very mature, I know. But I can’t seem to help it. I tell myself that I’m actually grieving, that today is like the death of an old and cherished relationship. Because today my old pen pal and I will finally part ways. Oh, I knew it was inevitable all along, but I suppose I always hoped for something more.

  I’m well aware that Zach’s mood toward me changed when I brought up the subject of Rachel. That in itself is
quite telling. When people overreact about something, it’s usually because they feel deeply about it. I suspect that despite Zach’s pretense of denial, he feels deeply about Rachel. Maybe he is secretly in love with her but afraid to admit it. I’m still curious about what happened that night when they spent so much time together after everyone else was in bed. After all, he’s a normal, healthy, eighteen-year-old boy. Who could blame him for finding the pretty Rachel attractive? Although, knowing Zach, I doubt he did anything disrespectful. He’s just not that kind of guy.

  I hate to admit it, but I actually respect Zach even more for keeping his feelings toward Rachel under cover. I suspect this is related to his general indecision about joining the Amish church. As aggravating as it might be to me personally, it’s honorable for Zach to hold Rachel at arm’s length like that, at least until he’s ready to commit to the church, and then he can commit to her. That’s how things are done there.

  We arrive at the air museum shortly after the doors open. According to Dad, this is the best time to see everything without fighting the crowds. It seems he’s right since we’re practically the only ones there to start with. He enjoys showing Zach everything and sharing his aviation expertise. Naturally, Zach just eats it up. But after a while, I get bored. I mean, I’ve been to this museum lots of times, and yeah, the old jets are pretty cool, but enough is enough already. After a couple of hours, while they’re ogling the F-14 Tomcat, I declare that I’m going to get a coffee and that I’ll meet them outside when they’re done. I’m not even sure they hear me. I’m not sure I care.

  Eventually the two of them emerge, talking animatedly, and we all pile into the car again, driving south. “We should be there in less than two hours,” Dad announces. “But it’s almost noon. Maybe we should grab some lunch along the way.” We discuss the options, finally deciding to just go with fast food in Akron and eat it on the road.

  It’s nearly 2:00 when we finally reach Zach’s farm. The conversation between Dad and Zach really slowed down once we got to Hamrick’s Bridge, and I can tell that Zach is deep in thought when Dad stops his car on the road adjacent to the farm. “Want me to go down the driveway, son?” he asks gently. “Or would it be better to just drop you off here?”