by Unknown
“Zack, your last day of school is on Wednesday, are you up for a road-trip?”
“I’ll start packing as soon as I get home,” Zack said.
All of the adults laughed, then Ann said, “Well it’s settled, Pennsylvania Dutch country here we come!”
*****
“Bye Grandma, I’ll see you in two weeks,” Zack said as he hugged his grandparents tight before leaving them at the airport.
He felt a little sad as he and his dad climbed into his grandfather’s vintage Airstream travel trailer to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. “It smells like Grandfather’s pipe and looks like Grandmother’s kitchen,” Zack quietly said to himself. He could hear his mom’s laugh when his grandfather sang Hippy songs from the ‘70s, and looking at his dad’s face, Zack knew that he was feeling it too.
“Alright buddy, it looks like everything is battened down and ready to go. So let’s hop in the truck and hit the road!” said Jost.
“Let’s do it, Dad!” Zack yelled as he jumped the two steps down to the ground and ran to the door of his grandfather’s Ford F150 truck.
Zack was the first to break the silence between him and his dad, asking, “Dad, what is Pennsylvania Dutch country?”
“It’s a place in Lancaster, Pennsylvania where a group of people of the Amish Christian faith lives.”
“We’re Christian and people don’t come to vacation where we live, what’s so different about the Amish?”
“Good question Son. Well, the Amish came to the United States in the 1720s. They’re from Swiss and German heritage, also known as Deutch, So they’re not actually Dutch, they’re Deutch.
They came to America for religious freedom and they set up colonies in a few Northeastern and Midwestern states with religious and social rules that follow a book called an Ordnung or ordinance. They pretty much live the same way that their ancestors lived 300-years ago.”
“So the Amish religion and culture are what makes visiting where they live a fun thing to do when you’re on vacation?” Zack asked.
“Well yes, because they dress like they’re back in the 1700s, they speak a type of German, but they speak English too, they don’t use electricity or cars, so they have pretty simple lives, compared to ours. Don’t you think it would be interesting to see how other people’s lives are different from ours?”
“Yeah, I want to know how they live without TV and the Internet? How is that possible Dad?”
“It’s possible, I do it all the time when I’m downrange. Do you want to try it? Let’s go without technology and television on our trip, and we’ll only use the phone to check-in with your Grandma because she’ll kill me if I don’t call her.”
“Okay, Dad, let’s rough-it, no TV, iPad, or cell phone except for calls to Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Deal Zack! In fact, I’m turning off the GPS and we’ll use your Grandad’s maps to guide us to our destination. Why don’t you grab them out of the pocket behind your seat and orient yourself to our current location on the map—copilot.”
“Sir, yes sir!” Zack said with a crisp salute, then reach into the pocket behind his seat to pull out an armful of maps of the United States. Zack busied himself for a couple of hours, pouring over maps like a general preparing to send his troops into battle.
“I don’t know if he knows what he’s doing but he has the right map-book and he’s not holding it upside down so that’s a good start.” Jost chuckled to himself at the sight of his little boy’s confidence at being able to complete the task at hand. “Becca, I must be doing at least something right.” He smiled at his wife’s ever-present spirit.
“Okay Dad, on I-40 East, at 65 miles per hour you should reach I-81 North in 37-hours. I have my watch set to go off in 35-hours so that I can help make sure you don’t miss our exit. When you start to feel sleepy let’s make camp for the night. Sound like a good plan Dad?”
“Buddy, I couldn’t have done better navigating myself. Give me some little man!” Zack’s face lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve to hear his father’s enthusiastic praise. He reached over and gave his dad a fist bump, then settled back into his seat, still grinning from ear-to-ear.
*****
“There it is Dad!” Jost followed Zack’s finger pointing to a sign and pulled into the Las Vegas KOA campground in Tom’s Town just after dark. He and Zack busied themselves setting up the airstream for the night. They roasted hot dogs, cooked baked beans, and ate homemade brownies, courtesy of grandma, for dessert. Then, Jost and his son take a walk through several trails around the campground to stretch their legs before going to bed.
“Hey, Dad, this camper with a hot shower sure beats a cold dip in the lake like we usually do for bathing on camping trips.”
“Don’t get too soft on me Scamp, we have to give this thing back to your Grandfather.” After a quick call to his grandparents, Zack climbed into the large, plush bed next to his Dad and they talked and laughed until falling asleep late into the night.
Jost hasn’t gotten the Corp out of his system yet, so his body automatically woke up at 0400-hours, ready to get physical. “Zack,” Jost whispered over the shoulder of his sleeping boy, “I’m going for a run, I’ll be back in an hour. Stay inside the camper until I get back, okay?”
Like a flash, Zack jumped up out of bed and grabbed his duffle bag to find some athletic gear.
“I’m going with you, Dad!” Zack yelled.
“Okay Son, I’m happy to have you do Physical Training (PT) with me this morning.”
“More PT sir, more PT, I like it, I love it, I want more of it!”
“Uh, how about the civilian version of that son?” I’m not in the Corp anymore.”
“Once a Marine, always a Marine Dad—Semper Fi!” Zack said.
“Yes, always faithful to the Corp, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t act like an average Joe on the streets, you know, like those laid back Californians you like.”
“But I thought you like it when I act like you Dad?”
“Only if that’s really how you feel on the inside, and I suspect it’s not son, and that’s okay. I see you, Son. You’re a slow moving, easy going, I love everybody kind and I hope they love me back, kind of guy who loves nature and his family, appreciates art and enjoys learning new things and stretching his mind. Does that about sum it up?”
Zack was staring up at his father with his mouth open and eyes wide. Suddenly, he hugged his father’s waist and said, “You really do see me, Dad, thanks, Dad, that’s awesome!”
Jost was pretty proud of himself in that moment, feeling like he took another step towards being the kind of father that he knew he could be. But the funny thing is that in that moment of vulnerability that he shared with his son, he feels like he got more out of it than he gave to Zack. “Note to self—be more vulnerable!” Jost said to himself.
The pair walked out into the dry air and took off at a slow trot with Zack setting the pace. As the sun came up they took note of how the vegetation was only slightly different from that in California and tried to name the birds that they could hear and see. After a hardy breakfast, they were back on I-81 North heading to Lancaster.
Each day on the road followed a similar routine. A 2-5 mile run before breakfast, stopping around noon and eating the bag lunches they prepared that morning, and setting up camp at a KOA campground, sometimes around dusk and other times riding into the night like a pair of truckers on a long haul.
The time that they spent bonding over odd and wondrous sites, the people that they met along the way, and questions that popped into the mind of a young boy who is comfortable talking with his father, made for fun and interesting times.
“You know Dad, I don’t even miss television, computer time, or even playing video games. I like it when we talk.”
“I do too Son, and I’ve learned something these past few days.”
“What’s that Dad?”
“I learned that you’re alright. What I mean is I like you. If
you were just a guy that I met on the baseball field, or in church, or even at work or something I’d like you and want to be friends with you.”
“Ha, ha, that’s funny. I like you too Dad. I like how you can be serious or silly, we like the same kinds of things for fun, and I know you have my back.” If you weren’t my dad I think we’d be best friends.”
“Well ain’t that somethin’? Do you think we’re the first father and son that’s ever come to like, love, and respect each other on a road trip, Zack?”
“No, I think it happens all the time if they really pay attention to each other,” Zack answered. “But, if you were one of those dads that’s always yelling—do this, get that, shut up, hurry up, you never do anything right, and using a lot of bad words too, I wouldn’t like you.”
“Well if you were one of those kids that hates everything and everyone, has a chip on his shoulder about something, acts like he’s too good for a little hard work, and acts lazy and uninterested, I wouldn’t like you either. I’d still love you because you’re my son, but I wouldn’t like being around you.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean, but Dad, all of the kids that I know that act like that, when you get to know them they have some bad stuff going on in their lives.”
“Like what, Zack?”
“Like a parent that’s not around or one that’s on drugs or alcohol, a parent that’s really angry and mean and hits them a lot, and acts like they don’t care if their kid lives or dies. And, sometimes when parents are really strict or super religious and they’re cramming it down the kid’s throat instead of letting the kid make up his own mind about following the strict rules of their religion. I think anything is easy to accept if you feel like you have a choice.”
“Wow, very well said, and insightful my son!”
“Thank you, Father,” Zack says before they both crack up at the sound of their very formal speech with the other. Later they rode in silence, reflecting on the evening’s exchange.
“Welcome to Lancaster, Pennsylvania”, the sign read. Zack searched the map for a nearby campground and found the Lancaster/New Holland KOA campground, where they would stay for a day or two before going to Ann and Roger’s home.
Zack and Jost both were enjoying the outdoors too much to be confined to a cul-de-sac in his grandparent’s subdivision. It was early afternoon so they had plenty of time to get settled in and explore before nightfall.
The weather was typical for June in Lancaster, it was a warm day, at 81°, but after dark it cooled down to 61°. Jost commented on how clean the air smelled, and Zack asked to sleep with the camper windows open. They each noticed in the other a sort of slowing in speech, movement, and temperament. They both seemed very tranquil and at peace even.
“Dad, you look different.”
“Well, a few days of razor stubble and a couple of weeks without a haircut will do that to a man,” Jost replied.
“No, it’s not that, you seem like, well if you were a car, somebody took their foot off the gas and you’re just coasting along, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think I do Zack, I feel different too. Calm, relaxed, peaceful.” “How do you feel?” Jost asked his son.
“I feel the same way Dad. I’m glad we took this trip,” Zack said as he threw his arms around his father’s neck and squeezed as if he planned to never let go. Jost sank into the hug and just let himself go with the emotion of the moment, then suddenly the two men found themselves crying tears of relief.
Jost was the first to break the silence. “We’re running low on toiletries, what do you say we go to the store, and maybe buy some fast food for dinner?”
“Let’s do it, Dad, I’m getting a little tired of your cooking anyway, ha, ha, ha.”
“What, you don’t like my cooking? You little ingrate, I’ll get you,” Jost said as he ran after a giggling Zack, who was happily running through the camper, taking care to stay out of his dad’s reach.
*****
Driving through Lancaster County’s Town of Strasburg, they passed sprawling farms, horse-drawn buggies, and cobblestone streets, before arriving at a strip mall at a Target store. By the time the pair found a shopping cart at the store’s front door, they had already decided what they were having for dinner.
The delicious combination of tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese, and pepperoni was wafting through the air. Zack looked at his father without saying a word, and instinctively they both said, “Pizza!” In a mesmerized sort of tone, while giving each other a fist bump in recognition of the other’s excellent choice.
“Why don’t you order for us Zack?” Zack stepped up to the counter at the food kiosk inside of Target, next to the Starbucks.
“Hi, what can I get for you, sir?” asked the friendly server behind the counter. A pimply faced teenager who didn’t look old enough to meet the 16-year-old working age requirement.
“I’d like one large pepperoni pizza and two medium green iced teas please.” Jost tapped Zack on the shoulder to get his attention and to hand Zack his debit card to pay for dinner.
“That’ll be $12.99 sir,” the server/cashier said, taking the card from Zack’s outstretched hand.
“Here’s your receipt sir, your pizza will be ready in about 20-minutes if you’d like to do some shopping while you wait, so just hold on to your receipt please.”
“Thank you,” Zack said before walking away and returning the debit card to his father.
“Well done sir!” Jost said, mimicking the server’s polite address toward his young son.”
Zack grinned an embarrassed smile because he felt proud that the server called him sir, and because he could tell that his father was proud of the way that he handled himself during the small business transaction of ordering dinner. Zack had a little extra swagger about him as they walked down the main aisle toward the “personal care” section.
Zack chooses his favorite toothpaste and they agree to share Jost’s favorite deodorant, grabbed a few other necessities like toilet paper, and facial tissue, then headed back toward the cashiers to pay for their goods. “I think we could both use some running socks, Zack, let’s head down this aisle.”
Zack followed behind his father and the cart like a duckling. The sock quest took the pair past the toy aisle, which made Zack fall behind his father by a few paces as he slowed to see what was new in “Toyland”. Seeing nothing that interested him, he walked quickly to catch up to his dad, when the sight of a mannequin in front of the women’s department made him stop in his tracks. Tears began to well up in his eyes until his little knees buckled under the weight of grief.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked, as Zack’s little body crumbles into her arms as she knelt to make eye contact with the sad, little, English-boy. Zack instinctively tucked his head in the pad of her shoulder, where a hunter might tuck his rifle to avoid the shoulder shattering kick of a rifle.
Jost quickly realized that he didn’t hear the sound of his son’s sneakers padding behind him so he turned to find out where Zack had gotten off to, only to find him in the arms of an Amish woman. At that sight, he abandoned his cart and ran to see what was the matter with his boy.
“Zack, Zack, what is it Son, are you okay?” Jost asked with great concern.
“He was staring at this mannequin when it looked as if he collapsed and became very upset,” the woman said. By now there was, what looked like a family of seven people crowded around his son. The woman gently whispered to Zack, “Your Papa’s here boy, you’re okay, I’ll stay with you.” She then slowly handed him off to his father.
Jost picked Josh up and looked at his face. “What is it Son, what happened?”
Without speaking, Zack pointed at the mannequin, then put his face in the crook of his father’s neck, continuing to sob uncontrollably. When Jost looked up at the mannequin he felt his heart catch in his throat too. “Oh, I see, I understand Zack, I miss her too. I remember when we bought that same robe for your mom. She looked really pretty in it didn’t s
he?” Josh nodded yes in agreement.
Seeing an adult male in the group, Jost instinctively addressed him with an explanation. “I’m so sorry for the trouble sir. My son just lost his mother about four months ago and we bought a bathrobe identical to that one while she was in the hospital, before she” …his voice trailed off. “It’s okay son, you go ahead and be sad if you want. If I wasn’t so prideful I might cry with you,” Jost nervously chuckled.
The Amish man stepped forward and extended his hand to Jost saying, “I am truly sorry for your lost sir, I can understand how hard this must be for a boy his age. We don’t do this very often, but we were just about to sit down for supper in the restaurant here. We’re having a pizza!” He said with a guilty smile on his face as if he were bordering on sin.
“My name is David Shear and these are my children, Benual, Jacob, David. Zachariah, Ruth, Katy-Lynn, and Sarah. My wife Miriam is feeling poorly and stayed at home this evening. Please sup with us on a lovely pizza, it would be our pleasure.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Shear. My name is William Jost, and this is my son Zack.”
“Jost did you say? Your ancestors are German, no?”
“Yes, my grandfather said our family name was Yost until his father came to America and changed his name to Jost.”
“We are of German heritage also, and you have a Zack and I have a Zachariah. Zack Jost how many years do you have now?” David Shear asked.
A puzzled Zack looked at his father for a translation, he had not heard a sentence phrased this way before. In fact, he was having a little trouble understanding some of the things the Amish man and woman were saying, although they were both speaking English.
“Mr. Shear wants to know how old you are,” Jost said to Zack.
“I’m eight, sir.”
“Eight? Well, I’ll be! Zachariah, how old are you?”
“I’m eight-years-old Father,” the Amish boy answered with a broad smile, directed at Zack.