by Sarah Price
“Time for milking, ja?” Elias called out from the other side of the door. It sounded as though he were chuckling.
Milking? It took Alejandro a moment to place himself. He wasn’t in a hotel. He wasn’t in Miami. There was no one with him, not this morning. There was no fancy breakfast waiting in the outer room with people to serve him. No, he realized, he was in Lititz, Pennsylvania, and being awoken at a time of the day when he normally was just going to bed. And by an Amish man, of all people! For a moment, he wondered if he was still dreaming.
“Five minutes,” Alejandro finally called out, trying to shake the sleep from his head.
Despite it being June, the morning air was cool when he exited the house. He was wearing slacks and a shirt, opened slightly at the collar. The sun wasn’t even cresting in the sky, but there was a faint light that wrapped around him. The radiance of morning. Everything felt mildly fresh and new, the breaking of dawn as he had never seen it. Birds were singing their morning songs, and a few rabbits were nibbling at the grass by the back fields.
When he walked into the barn, he was overwhelmed by the smell. Cows. Manure. And lots of both. It was a pungent odor, somewhat familiar but offensive to his nose. “Ay, mi madre,” he said quietly. What had he gotten himself into?
“Guder mariye,” Amanda called out cheerfully to him. She was using her crutches, trying to carry a full bucket of warm water. Unlike Alejandro, she looked as if she was wide-awake and ready for the day, wearing a faded work dress, a blue bandana over her hair, and an old, clunky boot on her one foot. “Not used to getting up so early, ja?”
He tried to smile but was too tired. “Getting up early, going to bed late. Same thing, I suppose.” He saw her struggling with the bucket and frowned. He ran his fingers through his hair, a loose curl draping over his forehead, and walked toward her. “Let me help you, Amanda.” He took the bucket from her and followed behind her. She moved slowly down the aisle between the barn wall and the cows. “Why are you out here anyway, Princesa? The point of my staying to help was so that you wouldn’t have to.”
She glanced at him and laughed, her dark eyes twinkling. “Was that the point?”
It was too early for laughter and teasing. First thing in the morning, his brain wasn’t that quick. He needed some coffee to help him wake up. Actually lots of it. Despite having slept so well, he felt tense. He wasn’t certain whether it was the fact that he was up so early or because Amanda was up, too. “You should be resting,” he scolded her. “This is too much for you.”
She shook her head. “If I can help just a little, I’ll feel better. No use in sitting around when there is work to do,” she argued gently. She ignored his scowl and tried to move past him. When he touched her arm, she looked up at him and added, “Besides, my daed needs me.”
He frowned. “No good, Amanda.” But he let her be, knowing that she was old enough to make her own decisions, even if they were not necessarily the right ones. Who was he to tell her what to do? he thought.
For the next two hours, he helped Elias with milking the cows. Amanda did what she could, using her crutches: carrying empty buckets to the men and trying to bring the full ones back to the containment system, which would keep the milk at the right temperature until it was picked up later in the week. She never complained and seemed quite content to be helping, even if she couldn’t do too much. Alejandro kept an eye on her, noticing that she looked pale and worn-out by the time they were almost finished with the milking.
“Farming never quite leaves you,” Elias said, clapping Alejandro on the back. Clearly, he was impressed that Alejandro had been able to roll up his sleeves and start milking the cows. “You are a gut Schaffmann!”
Alejandro rubbed his eyes. He still needed that coffee. “Schaffmann?”
“Worker,” Amanda chimed in. “He’s calling you a gut worker! It’s a compliment.”
“Ja, worker.” Elias laughed. “Whoever taught you how to milk cows in that island place did a mighty fine job. You did a gut morning of work this day, son!”
Son. The word resonated in his head. He had never known his own father. His mother wouldn’t speak about his father, not once. After they had left Cuba for America, there was no one else to ask. His grandparents were dead, and his uncles had never known his father. On the few occasions when Alejandro had tried to bring up the subject with his mother, she had shut down, not unlike the Beilers yesterday when the subject of their son had been mentioned. He had seen the pain in Elias’s and Lizzie’s eyes, and he suddenly realized that whatever had happened between his own father and mother must have caused the same amount of pain.
When they had finally finished and returned to the main house, the kitchen smelled of fried eggs and bacon. Alejandro breathed in deeply, loving the wonderful aroma of fresh farm food. He was starving after the light supper from the previous evening and for having been awakened so early. Hard work made a man hungry, and he hoped that there was coffee waiting for them, too. He was not disappointed.
After breakfast, Elias walked with Alejandro out to the horse barn. In silence, Elias quickly curried the horse before he started the process of hitching the bay to the black buggy. Alejandro watched, amazed, as Elias slipped the harness saddle over the back of the horse, resting it just behind the withers. He stretched the girth around the horse’s barrel and tightened it to ensure that it was secure. He explained to Alejandro that the girth needed to be tight so that the harness wouldn’t slip sideways while supporting the shafts of the carriage.
The horse stood patiently, immune to the familiar touch of the expert hands that placed the leather pieces onto its back. Elias continually ran his hand down the horse’s flanks, talking softly to it as he worked. When he moved toward the tail, he gently patted the muscled croup twice, a kind and calming gesture showing how much he cared for his horse. Carefully, he attached the black crupper, a V-shaped piece of stuffed leather, latching it around the tail and buckling it at the dock. He explained that this would prevent the harness from sliding forward. Then, in one quick motion, he slipped the breast collar, a wide piece of padded leather in dire need of some leather polish, over the horse’s head. The horse lifted its head but didn’t fuss beyond that simple gesture.
Crossing the leather tugs over the back of the horse, Elias gestured toward the buggy. “Could use your help here, son,” he said. Together, they pulled the buggy toward the horse, carefully guiding it so that the shafts would slide into their holders, one side at a time. Then, after clipping the holdback straps to the breeching, a clever yet simple apparatus that would prevent the buggy’s kick plate from hitting the horse’s hocks when driving downhill or suddenly stopping, Elias uncrossed the tugs and secured them to the swiveling base. It hadn’t taken more than five minutes to get the horse and buggy ready for the journey to town, where they were headed to pick up the meat.
“Sent the cow to the butcher just two days ago,” Elias said as he held the reins in his hands, steering the horse down the lane and onto the main road. “Shop should be open by now, I reckon.”
The front window of the buggy was open, and Alejandro watched the horse’s hindquarters as it trotted down the road. The noise was musical in rhythm, and for a while he got lost in the beat. The early morning air was cool and felt refreshing on his face. If he had thought it would be warm and stuffy inside the buggy, he was pleasantly surprised to find otherwise. But he was also surprised to feel something tickling his face. The faster the horse trotted, the more he felt something brushing against his skin. He lifted his hand and touched his cheeks.
“Ah, the horsehair,” Elias laughed. “Should have warned you earlier. I curried her right gut this morning, but there’s always horsehair floating around.”
Alejandro saw it now. Hair from the horse was floating back through the open window. He was glad the horse’s coat was bay instead of white; otherwise, his dark clothing would definitely show the hair.
“Well, hello there,” Elias called out as they reached the village, and he slowed the horse down in the driveway of another Amish farm. An older Amish man was walking from the house to a shop at the back of the property near the barn. “Come for my meat, Jeremiah.”
The man eyed the Englischer seated next to Elias with suspicion. “Who you got there, Elias?”
With the buggy stopped, Elias slid open the buggy’s door and jumped down. “Alejandro Diaz is staying with us for a few days. He helped Amanda in that New York town.”
At the mention of Amanda, the man softened his harsh expression. “How is your dochder?”
“Gut, gut,” Elias responded. “Danke for asking.”
As Alejandro approached, the older man stared at him. “Bit fancy dressed for helping with butchering, ain’t so?”
Alejandro reached out to shake the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Raising one eyebrow, the man hesitated before taking Alejandro’s hand. “Jeremiah Smucker,” he finally said, introducing himself. Then, formalities over, he turned back to Elias. “Got your meat all ready. You tell Lizzie that I made sure to grind some extra special, just the way she likes it.”
Alejandro waited by the buggy while the two men disappeared into the shop. Minutes later, they came out carrying two large boxes. One of the boxes was open, and he glanced inside at the large plastic bag brimming with various cuts of meat. After they had put it into the back of the buggy, they disappeared and shortly returned with two more boxes.
“That should hold you over for the winter, ja?” Jeremiah said lightly. “Especially since I heard that one dochder might be staying in Ohio. Something about a special new friend, ain’t so?”
Elias laughed and turned to Alejandro. “Mayhaps we don’t have fancy phones like you Englischers, but our Amish gossip spreads just as fast without ’em.”
When they returned to the farm, Alejandro helped Elias carry the boxes of meat into the canning room located off the kitchen in the farmhouse. The house was quiet. Neither Amanda nor Lizzie was in the kitchen. Alejandro realized that it was the perfect time to steal away for a few minutes and catch up on his own thoughts.
For a long time, he walked along the fields and breathed in the fresh air. At the edge of the cornfield, he stopped and watched the birds flying overhead, dipping down and disappearing among the growing stalks. In the distance, he could hear the sound of an approaching horse and buggy rattling down the road. Shutting his eyes, he listened to the noise, catching the rhythm in his mind until it disappeared. Taking a deep breath, he felt his lungs opening up, free from smoke and city fumes. A man could get used to this, he thought. No pressure, no deadlines, no commitments.
Unlike New York City, Los Angeles, or Miami, there was no loud background noise. No cars. No beeping. No voices. Just the gentle song of the birds and the whisper of the crops, stalks gently brushing against one another in the summer breeze. He shut his eyes and listened to the sounds of nature. They soothed him, and he realized that he was relaxing for the first time in months . . . perhaps years. Yes, no matter what Mike had thought, the small farming town of Lititz was exactly what he needed to recharge his batteries.
He was surprised to see a car in the driveway when he returned from his walk. He knocked at the door to the main house before opening it, and slipping inside, it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. Lizzie was standing with another woman by the sofa where Amanda was lying. Alejandro took off his sunglasses and waited for any indication that he should enter. The other woman was dressed in regular clothing and was checking Amanda’s blood pressure and heart rate.
“Looks good,” the woman said, standing up straight. “But I don’t want to hear about you doing chores, young lady. You need your rest.”
Alejandro cleared his throat. “Those very same words were spoken by me this morning.” The three women looked up and stared at him. He took five strides and reached out his hand. “Alejandro Diaz,” he said. “I believe we spoke on the phone a few days ago.”
“Of course,” the woman said, smiling at him. She glanced down at Amanda. “The patient is doing quite fine. But I heard that she has been helping with the morning milking. She really needs to stay put. If someone will push the wheelchair, she can go outside. I don’t even mind if she goes visiting other places. But she needs to be still and relax or that leg will not heal properly.” The nurse started packing up her things, putting the blood pressure monitor back into her bag. “And keep that leg elevated as much as you can.”
Lizzie shook her finger at Amanda. “Did you hear that, now?”
“Yes, Mamm,” she said, sneaking a quick look at Alejandro. “But I don’t like it.”
He was caught off guard by the expression on her face. It was so peaceful and serene, such a joy to behold that he wondered if he had ever experienced anything even remotely similar. While the visiting nurse and Lizzie stepped away to privately discuss Amanda’s condition, Alejandro knelt down before her. He glanced over his shoulder to make certain that no one was watching, then he reached for her hand. He noticed that she caught her breath and almost pulled her hand away, but her own gaze darted over his shoulder to make certain her mother wasn’t watching.
“You need to listen to these people,” he said softly. “You have no idea how long it can take to heal, Princesa.”
“Do you have an idea?”
“Sí.” He nodded, ignoring the sassiness of her tone. “I broke my arm two years ago.” She raised her eyebrows, an unspoken question. “I was in a fight,” he admitted and flushed at the disapproving look on her face. “I pushed it and did too much. It took much longer than it should have to heal.” He waited until she looked at him. “You can’t afford to push it.”
She chewed on her lip and lowered her eyes, watching as his thumb caressed the back of her hand. She liked the feeling of her hand in his and realized at that moment that she was tripping down a dangerous path. Her heart fluttered. Dangerous indeed, she thought. “My daed doesn’t have a son anymore, Alejandro,” she whispered, as if apologizing. Lifting her eyes, she stared into his. “He needs my help.”
“I understand that,” he replied, nodding at her. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be the one helping. We can arrange for help. This accident is my responsibility. I will see that your father has help. I will take care of you and your family.”
She frowned and withdrew her hand. “Is that why you are here? You feel that you are responsible?”
“No, that’s not it at all,” he started to say. He took her hand back in his and squeezed it. It was soft and warm, the skin silky smooth. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stared into her face. The frown disappeared, and he was, once again, struck by how beautiful this young woman was. “There are a lot of things I would like to say to you, Amanda, but this isn’t the time.” He leaned down and kissed the back of her hand, noticing that the color rose to her cheeks. He chuckled softly, peeking over his shoulder at Lizzie. He was pleased to see that she was still engaged in a discussion with the nurse. “Later, sí? Maybe tomorrow. But for now, I’m going to take a ride into town for a little bit. I have some phone calls to make, and I want to see your Lititz.” He stood up and straightened his pants. Then he pointed to her. “Stay put, sí?”
“Ja,” she replied, the color still painting her cheeks. But her eyes shone, the adoration more than apparent.
He had called the driver earlier, asking to be picked up at eleven o’clock by the roadside. He didn’t want the family to see the limousine in the driveway and felt it was better this way. For the first hour, the driver meandered through the back roads, driving slowly so that Alejandro could take in everything in sight. The farms were beautiful, dotting the landscape. Each one was more appealing than the next. Some had clothing lines filled with colorful dresses, black pants, and white shirts drying in the sunshine. The fields were lush and green with
black-and-white cows grazing side by side, their tails swishing at the flies that bothered them. Truly, he thought, I have found a small slice of heaven.
When the driver finally took him into town, Alejandro noticed that people stopped and stared when the limousine passed. Unlike the big cities, it was clear that limousines were quite a rarity in this community. He glanced at his phone, which he had been charging from the unused cigarette lighter. He hadn’t checked any messages or e-mails, and he hesitated to browse through the social media. But curiosity got the best of him, and he pressed the “On” button.
Sure enough, there were pictures of him taking Amanda out of the hospital, flooding the various social media websites throughout the Internet. The entertainment channel was in a frenzy, asking for any information about the young woman in the wheelchair. There was even a photograph of Alejandro helping her into the limousine. He paused when he saw it. She was looking over his shoulder, her dark eyes staring directly into the camera lens. With her tanned skin and dark hair, she was hauntingly beautiful, despite her look of innocence. Yet, at the same time, there was something fierce about her expression. It was the look of strength and determination. Sighing, he pressed the “Off” button and tossed his phone aside. He didn’t want to get distracted by the news. Let them have their field day and ask their questions. He wasn’t taking the bait. Not this time.
“See if you can find a clothing store, my friend,” Alejandro called out to the driver. “I could use some casual clothes, I think.” If he had six more days at the farm, he didn’t need to ruin his fancy Gucci clothes and Armani shoes. He could get some more simple clothing and, perhaps, blend in a bit more. “And see if you can find another car to drive while I’m here,” he added. “Something that doesn’t stand out so much, sí?”