by Marta Perry
“Yah, right. No problem.”
That lighthearted manner of Adam’s made him smile. It also reminded him of himself at that age.
“You are going to the singing, right?”
Adam flashed him a look. “What do you think?”
In a way, he was kind of flattered that Adam, at least, didn’t have a bone to pick with him. But he certain sure didn’t want to be accused of conspiring if Adam was going to do something stupid.
“I mean it,” he said. “You’re going to the singing and nowhere else.”
“Or what?” Adam seemed to be sounding him out. “Or you’ll tell Jonas?”
“Or I’ll come after you and drag you back in front of whoever you’re with.”
Adam glared at him. “I thought you understood. You broke the rules plenty when you were my age.”
“Yah, I did.” When Adam started to turn away, he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’ve been there. The rules I broke weren’t worth the price I had to pay.”
He thought Adam would just shake him off, but after a moment, Adam shrugged. “Yah, well, there’s nothing much going on anyway. I’ll go to the singing. And nowhere else. You want me to sign a contract?” He gave Thomas a half-defiant, half-kidding look.
“Your word is good enough for me.” He smiled and punched him lightly on the arm. “Better go slick yourself up if you’re going to impress the girls.”
Adam grinned, his mood dissolved, and he scurried away, leaving Thomas to put the horse in the field beyond the barn.
Shaking his head, Thomas did so. His return had upset the apple cart more than he’d ever anticipated. He thought again of Dorcas, then of his father and brothers. Maybe things would settle down. Maybe.
First Dorcas and now his brother Adam, reminding him again of the time he’d thought he could forget. Apparently his reputation as a wild teen was not going to be wiped away very easily.
He headed back to the house, thinking that all he needed was an encounter with his father to round out the day. But before he reached the house, Esther came running to latch herself on to his arm.
“You said you’d teach me to drive the buggy. How about now?”
“Hold on a minute. I said I would if Daad said it was all right. Did you ask him?”
He got a pout in return. “He’ll just tell me no. But not if you ask him. If you ask him, he’ll say yes.”
Esther had a lot more faith in his relationship with Daad than he did.
“All right, I’ll try. If he says yes, I’ll get you started. But only if Daad is okay with it.”
She hugged his arm, looking up at him as if he was some kind of hero. “I knew you would.”
Just what made her so sure of him? She couldn’t remember him that well, given how young she was when he left.
Maybe she’d been making up an image of him in her mind while he was gone. If she persisted in thinking he was some kind of super brother, she’d be disappointed. But for the moment, it felt good to have someone around who had faith in him. He couldn’t say that about many people. He pushed the thought of Dorcas firmly out of his mind.
* * *
—
Normally Dorcas enjoyed a spring shower, encouraging the tender shoots of new plants to pop up from the damp earth. But a rainy school Monday was another thing. It had been pouring at lunch time, forcing her to keep her scholars inside, and by midafternoon, their restless spirits were starting to catch up with them.
At the moment, the younger children were supposed to be printing out their spelling words, while the older ones had a practice spelling bee under Anna’s direction. But there was an undertone of whispering and a bit too much movement to make her believe they were concentrating.
She glanced out, noting that the clouds had moved off to the east, and a watery sun picked out sparkles of raindrops on the grass. Stopping where she was, in a midst of a row of first graders, she collected the children’s attention.
“Since we weren’t able to go outside for recess today, we’re going to have a short recess in ten minutes’ time.” At the murmur of reaction, she continued. “But only if I see serious concentration on spelling for the next ten minutes.”
She didn’t bother saying what would happen if they didn’t concentrate. They already knew, and after an exchange of glances, they applied themselves to their tasks.
Dorcas moved forward a step, which put her between the twins. His pink tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth to aid his concentration, Matty was printing a wobbly B. Repressing a smile, she glanced at his brother. Mark was intent, his head bent over his work.
What was it about small boys that made them so irresistible? Maybe the combination of the vulnerable back of the neck combined with their fierce concentration? They weren’t all that vulnerable, she knew, having seen them hop up without a tear from a fall that would have broken a bone in an adult. But they still needed care.
Her thoughts shifted to the previous day. Poor Betsy had been afflicted with one of those short-lived bugs that made the sufferer miserable for a day. So miserable, in Betsy’s case, that she didn’t seem to notice that Dorcas was the one to care for her baby while Mammi took care of her.
Betsy was much better this morning, of course, and Dorcas hoped that all the rest of them wouldn’t pass the illness around. In any event, she’d truly enjoyed playing mammi to Will, cuddling him, rocking him, and tucking him into his cradle, where he slept intently, his small arms above his head.
She thought again of that moment when she’d lowered him gently into the cradle. She’d been swept by an overwhelming longing to have a child of her own to cherish. It had taken her completely by surprise, and she hadn’t known what to do with the feeling. She’d thought that she was completely satisfied with her life, but that urge had been like a lightning bolt shattering a summer night.
Pushing it away didn’t seem to be working very well, but she reminded herself firmly that she had her scholars. She didn’t need anything else, did she?
Looking at the clock, she saw that the ten minutes were almost up. “All right, boys and girls. Put your papers neatly in your desks, and then you may line up for recess.”
A few minutes later she strolled along one side of the playground area, alert as always for any sign that a calming word was needed. But the scholars all seemed so pleased with the surprise recess that they weren’t in the mood to scrabble with one another.
Anna, having completed her own circuit of the playground, joined her. “The bigger girls are gabbing about the program again,” she reported. “They want to do it outside.”
“Spring fever,” Dorcas said, smiling. “You know what would happen if we planned it outdoors.”
“It would rain, I suppose.” She sighed. “But they will be disappointed.”
“We’ll plan the picnic for outdoors, then.” Dorcas knew Anna was close enough to her own schooldays to be disappointed, as well. “They would feel worse if their posters and decorations were ruined.”
“Yah, they would.” Anna glanced back at the barn, where they could hear the sound of sawing. Dorcas followed her gaze and was just in time to see Esther disappear around the corner.
“Esther!” She headed after the girl, fuming a little. She had just reminded the children that the barn and shed area was off limits.
Esther had turned back toward her, wearing an expression of innocence that didn’t fool her in the least.
“I’m sure you heard me say that this area is off limits. What are you doing?” Beyond her, Dorcas could see that Thomas had stopped his sawing and was watching them. If he didn’t like it . . . well, it didn’t matter what he thought. This was her school.
“I want to talk to my brother.” There was a hint of defiance in her voice that Dorcas hated to hear. All of the adolescent girls were likely to have moods, but Esther had always bee
n respectful.
“The rules apply to you as well. You’ll have to talk to your brother when you get home. Come along, now.”
To her relief, Esther obeyed, but the petulant expression on her face was not appropriate and certainly not normal for her. Reminding herself that Thomas’s return had undoubtedly caused some upheaval in the family, she didn’t pursue it, hoping Esther’s sunny disposition would soon return.
Nevertheless, when it was time to dismiss her scholars, she stood on the porch and watched to be sure that Esther headed off down the road with the other children and didn’t make any detours to the barn.
Anna waited with her, but once they were all out of sight, she turned to Dorcas. “Is it all right if I leave now?”
“For sure,” she said, a little surprised that Anna thought she had to ask. “Your time is your own. I’m just glad you feel like spending so much of it here. You’re a huge help, you know.”
Anna flushed with pleasure. “I do love it. It’s just that today I promised I’d help with sorting and labeling the quilted items for the Mud Sale.”
“You’d best go, then. Saturday will be here before you know it. Tell your mamm that I’ll be there early to help.”
“I will. Denke.”
Anna hurried off like a dog that had been released from its pen. Dorcas smiled, knowing that events like the annual Mud Sale were important markers in the year at Anna’s age. She only hoped the Mud Sale wouldn’t live up to its name this year. They’d fit most of the booths and tents on the gravel around the fire hall, but inevitably some things would extend into the field—unpleasant for everyone if it was wet.
She’d gathered up everything she needed to take home and locked the schoolhouse when she turned and found Thomas waiting for her. The frown he wore didn’t bode well for his mood.
“Do you need to talk with me?” Dorcas attempted to sound patient, even though she’d rather, like Anna, speed her way home.
“Did Esther get into trouble today?”
She hesitated. Thomas wasn’t Esther’s parent, and normally she wouldn’t talk about a child’s behavior with a sibling. But these circumstances weren’t normal, since it was Thomas’s presence that had caused the misbehavior.
Apparently thinking her silence had gone on too long, Thomas moved impatiently and seemed about to speak. Dorcas cut in before he could start.
“It’s already taken care of,” she said, hoping that would satisfy him. “These things happen.”
“She was coming back to see me, wasn’t she? Had you told the children not to?”
“Yah, I had. I reminded them just before recess.” He was clearly upset with someone, and she wasn’t sure whether it was Esther or herself.
“Sorry.” He seemed to say the word with difficulty. “I’ll talk to her about it.”
“That’s not necessary. As a teacher, it’s my job to deal with, and I certainly wouldn’t turn to the parents for something as minor as this.”
He managed a twisted smile. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. But this time it involves me. I’m beginning to think it would be better for everyone if I hadn’t come back.”
Dorcas was caught completely by surprise. What had been going on now?
“Ach, Thomas, don’t think that way.” She reached out instinctively to touch his hand in sympathy. “Everything will settle down. Give it time.”
He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he closed his hand over hers, holding it warmly. “Denke, Dorcas.” His voice was husky, and it roused a feeling in her that she couldn’t immediately identify. “Remind me once in a while.”
Releasing her abruptly, he strode off.
When he was out of sight, Dorcas put her hand over the place he’d held. It was still warm from his touch, and it was affecting her entirely too much for comfort.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thomas stood where he was and watched Dorcas disappear down the lane that wove through a patch of woods to her house. He probably shouldn’t have said anything about Esther to her teacher. Esther wouldn’t appreciate his interference, and Dorcas probably felt the same way. She had been kinder to him than he deserved.
What possessed him to show Dorcas so much of the turmoil he felt at trying to fit into his family again? Maybe, because he’d been away for the intervening years, he’d reverted to the relationship they’d had when he left.
They had been friends after eight years of schooling together, and that friendship had continued right into their rumspringa years. Maybe, if the disaster hadn’t happened, that friendship would have grown into something stronger. Maybe they’d have married and had a few kinder by now.
And maybe not. Right now he’d best finish what he was doing, pack up, and head for home. And when he got there, he’d have a little talk with Esther about her behavior. She wouldn’t like it, but she’d have to admit it was better than if he’d gone straight to Daad about her misdeeds.
Disobeying the teacher’s orders, followed up by impertinence. When he was her age, Daad would have responded to a report like that with a licking. Probably he wouldn’t resort to that extreme with Esther, but she certain sure wouldn’t get off lightly.
But when he got home, he found Daad in a rage. From the milking shed came the sound of his raised voice. Esther? Had the news about Esther’s behavior at school reached him already?
Then he spotted Esther coming around the house. She glanced at him, glanced in the direction of the milking shed, and seemed to decide to avoid both of them. Instead, she scurried off down the path that led to the creek.
Deciding he’d best find out what was going on before he did anything, Thomas headed into the house. Mamm would know. Daad was the disciplinarian, but Mamm always had her say.
Once inside, he followed the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine into the back room that was given over to Mamm’s sewing and quilting. She bent over the machine, her feet working the treadle in a steady movement, face intent. In the moment before she noticed him, he was able to study her in a way he hadn’t done since he’d returned.
Mamm’s hair, once the same dark auburn as his, was sprinkled with gray, showing most strongly along the sides where it was drawn firmly back under her kapp. It seemed to him that she was smaller than she’d been when he left, or maybe it was just that he was bigger. Her hands were beginning to look like Grossmammi’s . . . thin, strong, and showing the veins and bones beneath the skin more clearly.
The signs of age affected him more than he’d have thought, and he moved slightly, drawing her attention. She glanced up at him, nodded slightly, and whipped the fabric off when the needle came to the end of the row.
He nodded at the print fabric that wouldn’t ever be used for Amish clothing. “Making a new quilt for the sale?” He moved toward her.
Shaking her head, she smoothed out the piece. “Not enough time for that, but I thought I could do another table runner. They sell pretty good, ain’t so?”
“I never bought one, Mammi. It’s not something I’d be likely to know.”
He smiled when she swatted at him, glad she didn’t seem unduly upset about whoever was in trouble with Daad.
“You ought to take an interest. You’ll marry one day, and if your wife is a quilter, you’ll have to know these things.”
There was the first spoken hint. Now that he’d returned home where she felt he belonged, Mamm would start thinking about a daughter-in-law to provide her with grandbabies.
“That’s jumping too far ahead,” he said, putting his arm across her shoulder and hugging her. “What’s going on out there?”
“Adam is in trouble.” She looked both worried and exasperated, it seemed. “Why you young ones can’t understand that whatever you do, someone will see, I don’t know.”
“Not only see, but apparently tell, in this case. How did Daad hear anyway?”
She shot him a sharp look. “You
don’t know anything about this, do you?”
“No, but I can guess it’s something about the singing last night, since that’s the only place he’s gone lately.” His mind switched off to the thought of Adam assuring him that he wouldn’t go anywhere but the singing. Apparently he should have also insisted on proper behavior once he got there. “What did he do? Upset the punch? Quarrel with someone over a girl?”
“Nothing.” Her lips formed a straight line. “He didn’t show up at the singing at all. And there he was, getting home at eleven as bright as can be, letting on he’d been at the singing all evening.”
Thomas’s stomach clenched. So. It looked as if Adam’s promise wasn’t worth much. And there he’d been, flattering himself that he was being a good guide to his little brother. He’d apparently just encouraged him to think Thomas easily fooled.
The disappointment was stronger than he would have anticipated. Maybe this was what it felt like to be Daad, not only ashamed that the whole community knew about your child’s misdeeds, but also cut by the thought that his child couldn’t be trusted.
Of course, as he remembered it, Daad never had trusted him. Maybe he’d changed with the younger ones. Maybe he’d trusted Adam and learned the trust was misplaced. If so, he probably felt just as bad as Thomas did right now. And that was a funny thing for Thomas to realize.
Mamm’s head came up, and she seemed to be listening. “Your daad’s coming in. Maybe best not to say anything.”
He nodded. He didn’t need to tell her that talking to Daad about his children’s misdeeds was the last thing he’d consider doing.
Hearing Daad’s footsteps coming down the hall toward the sewing room, he slipped out by the door that led through the pantry and on into the kitchen on the other side. Mamm was the best person to handle Daad right now.
Once he was outside, Thomas wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. When he’d been living with his aunt and uncle, he’d grown fond of his younger cousins and been glad to help and guide them. But this was different, maybe because he hadn’t felt a real sense of responsibility for them the way he did for his brothers and sister.
