by Jan Drexler
“Have you had enough?” Guy said, holding a handkerchief to his nose.
“Let me up!” Luke’s yell was muffled, but his anger gave it a deadly tone.
Guy backed off just as the other men ran up.
“What’s going on here?” John Stoltzfus shouldered his way in between Guy and Luke. “This is no time or place for a fight. You should both be ashamed of your actions.”
Luke crab-walked away from Guy until a couple of his friends helped him stand up. “He started it,” he said, pointing at Guy. “We were talking and he...he punched me.”
Everyone looked at Guy. The handkerchief he held against his nose was soaked with blood.
“Is this true? Did you strike Luke?”
“I only pushed him to the ground.” Guy’s face was stormy, and he avoided looking at anyone.
“He punched me,” Luke said, turning to his friends for confirmation. They all nodded.
“The outsider attacked him. I saw it,” one of them said. Judith couldn’t remember his name.
John looked at Guy with a frown. “This is a serious matter. We don’t solve our differences with violence.”
When Guy didn’t say anything, Judith pushed forward. “This is silly. Look at Luke. He doesn’t have a mark on him, and yet Guy’s nose is bleeding. It’s apparent that Luke is the one who hit Guy.”
John looked from one young man to the other, then turned to Judith. “Did you see what happened?”
Judith’s breath caught. She shook her head. “I was on my way into the barn.” She gestured toward the barn door. Donuts had fallen from her tray when the fight started and were strewn in the dirt.
Turning to Guy, John’s frown deepened. “Do you have anything to say?”
Guy’s face grew even darker as he took two steps back, then turned and stalked toward the house.
John caught Luke’s arm as he turned to go, too. “This isn’t over, young man. Your daed and I will need to discuss this.”
He let him go then, frowning at Luke’s jaunty step. Judith stepped back as Luke passed her.
John raised his voice as he addressed the crowd around him. “Let’s get back to work. There’s still plenty that needs to be done.”
Guy disappeared around the corner of the house, away from the kitchen and the group of men in the barnyard. Judith longed to follow him, but she couldn’t get the sight of him cruelly pushing Luke’s head into the gravel out of her mind. She hugged her elbows, undecided. What had really happened between Luke and Guy?
* * *
Guy strode around the corner of the house, heading somewhere. He didn’t care where, as long as it was away from Luke Kaufman. At the back of the farmhouse, shielded from the barnyard by a lilac bush, were the old cellar steps. Shaded and cool, this spot had often been his refuge when he was a boy and had done something to make David mad.
He slumped on the third step, where his head was even with the ground, and leaned his head against the cool stone side of the stairway. Cautiously, he pulled the handkerchief away from his face. At least the bleeding had slowed. He pressed the side of his nose, but didn’t feel the tell-tale pain of broken bones.
Luke’s punch had taken him by surprise. At the Home, he had always been expecting a fistfight from any of the boys there. But here? Among the Amish? He had let down his guard.
Guy dabbed at a trickle of blood. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
But the worst was the expressions on the faces of the people who had gathered around. They had all believed that he had punched Luke, when all he had done was try to keep the bully from hitting him again. It hadn’t been hard to throw Luke off balance, but once he had Luke on the ground and helpless, the fool had said it again. He had called Judith the name that had started the fight in the first place, and it had been all Guy could do to control his temper and keep himself from grinding Luke’s face into the gravel.
He turned his handkerchief until he found a clean spot, then held it to his nose again, waiting for the bleeding to stop.
Fighting wasn’t allowed among the Amish. He knew that. Someone would be in trouble, but it probably wasn’t going to be Luke.
Even Judith had to see how useless her defense of him had been. Luke’s friends would lie for him, and Guy would be blamed for the fight. And what would happen then? David and Verna had been good to him, but would they allow him to stay on after this? Not if the whole community was against him.
Sounds filtered into his hiding place from the fields. Someone had organized the men into teams and sent them into the fields to plow and harrow. The day’s work was going on without him. He wasn’t needed after all. David had been wrong.
Guy dabbed at his nose again. His face felt tight and sore, but the bleeding had stopped. He’d probably have a black eye for days...and have to explain to David how it got there.
He shifted so his back was against the rough, cold stone. His mood was spiraling downward into a black hole, but he didn’t care. John Stoltzfus hadn’t believed him, and he was a minister. His opinion counted among these people.
And Judith... He had seen the look on her face. His fight with Luke had disgusted her. Maybe she had feelings for the bully after all.
Guy started to shake his head, denying that thought, but the motion sent a shooting pain from his nose to the back of his skull. He leaned against the stone wall again, seeking relief.
He sure had burned some bridges today. No one in the community would want him around. His job was gone, since David and Verna wouldn’t want him on the farm. Any friendships he thought he might have...they were gone, too. He closed his eyes, imagining the reception he’d get the next time he showed his face around the other men. The cellar steps were a refuge, but someone would find him here. He had to go someplace until the workday was over and the farm was empty. He couldn’t work with any of those men now.
Guy peeked over the edge of the stairwell, across the buckwheat field toward the woods along the river at the back of David’s farm. If he could get across the field without being seen... Or if he was seen, he could say he was going to check on the mint or something. He stuffed his handkerchief in the waistband of his trousers and stood up.
“There you are!” Verna came around the lilac bush and stood with her fists at her waist, holding him in her gaze.
Guy’s stomach turned as if he had eaten a rock that wouldn’t settle. He hated to disappoint David, but the thought of disappointing Verna made him sick.
“I’ve been looking for you. The men have gone on with their work, and with you no place to be found. What has gotten into you?”
“There was some trouble—”
“We heard.” Verna grabbed his suspender and pulled him up the step. She reached up to pull his chin around. “And you have quite the black eye coming on, there.” She turned toward the back door. “Come along. David wants to talk to you.”
The stone turned on end, but he followed. Looking over his shoulder across the buckwheat field, Guy put his thoughts of leaving on a shelf for now.
David waited for him, lying flat on his bed. The only sign that he was in pain was his pale face and the fixed set to his jaw. When David gestured toward the chair nearby, Guy sat down.
“What is this I hear about a fight?” The older man’s tone was hard, but his expression spoke of grief and shame.
Guy swallowed. “I didn’t start it.”
“Luke says you did.”
Guy fixed his gaze on the quilted edge of the blanket covering David’s legs. “He said something about Judith, but it wasn’t true.”
“So you hit him?”
Anger turned the stone to lava. “Is that what you think? That I’m that outsider who can’t learn to live like all of you? That the first chance I get I strike out at someone because that’s the way I am? Some kind of sinner?”
Tears stood in David’s eyes. He reached fo
r Guy’s hand and Guy gave it to him. The old man’s hands were dry, leathery and tough. Guy’s eyes grew moist, too.
“We are all sinners, Guy. There is nothing you can do that can’t be forgiven.”
For some reason, Pa came to Guy’s mind. Any man who would abandon his own son was a sinner, for sure. But Guy hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I didn’t hit Luke. He hit me, then I tried to keep him from hitting me again.”
“I want you to tell me the truth. Luke says you hit him first, and he has witnesses that agree with him.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Guy stood and shoved his hands in his waistband.
“I want to, Guy.” David looked tired. “I want to. But the witnesses don’t agree with what you’ve said.”
“But I told you what happened. I didn’t lie to you.”
David coughed, a hollow, racking cough. “Remember, Guy,” he said, his voice raspy. “A man of faith lives by prayer and the Word of God.”
Then he coughed again. Guy turned toward the kitchen door to call Verna, but she was already coming with a hot compress.
“Lift him up, Guy. Just a bit, so he isn’t lying flat.”
She opened David’s shirt and laid the compress on his chest while Guy made the adjustments to the bed. He slipped up the stairs to his room while Verna was occupied.
He slumped on the chest by the window, drawing his feet up. This was the end. If David believed Luke’s lying friends instead of him, there was nothing left for him here.
Finding a clean handkerchief in his drawer, Guy wrapped some socks and another handkerchief in it and gathered it into a bundle. He took the few coins he had and added them.
Looking out the front window, toward the road, he saw the teams of men working in the front fields. Out back, another team would still be working the buckwheat field. But at noon, everyone would be coming to the house for dinner. He walked to the side window and opened the sash. The side porch roof was just below him, and from there he could drop to the ground. He’d just have to wait until everyone was occupied on the other side of the house.
He cracked his door open and listened for sounds of dinner being served. His stomach growled as the tantalizing aroma of chicken and noodles drifted up the stairway. He would miss dinner, but he couldn’t risk going downstairs. He’d just have to go hungry.
Judith’s voice rose above the other sounds from downstairs. Somehow, he would get word to her. Let her know where he was.
He ignored the itching eyes that warned him of the tears that were about to fall. He didn’t even know which direction to head. Maybe he could try the factories in Goshen or in South Bend. Once he got a job, then he could write to her.
Guy turned his back and leaned against the wall. He was just kidding himself. There were no jobs around. The other fellows his age from the Home had disappeared to the West, riding the rails because they might be able to pick produce in California. But he had seen just as many men riding the rails east. Or south. Chasing the next rumor of a job.
As the dinner bell rang, Guy grasped his bundle and started for the open window. He paused, waiting to hear the sound of Judith’s voice one more time, but he couldn’t distinguish hers from the others in the crowd. She would probably hate him for not saying goodbye, but it couldn’t be helped. He was sure she hated him anyway for the part he’d played in the fight with Luke, whether she thought it was his fault or not.
Guy stuck one foot out the window and let it dangle while he pushed his shoulders and the bundle out. He stretched his foot to reach the porch roof, then climbed the rest of the way out of the window. He glanced back at his room, then across the fields toward the woodlot. The trees in the distance blurred.
It wasn’t too late, was it? Could he go back?
The sound of voices and laughter drifting to him from the other side of the house hardened his resolve. He didn’t belong here and he never would.
Chapter Twelve
By Monday, Judith still couldn’t understand what had happened. Keeping Eli company while he played with his blocks after dinner gave her plenty of time to think. Too much time to remember.
When Guy hadn’t shown up to eat with the rest of the men during the work day on Saturday, Verna had told her not to worry. Guy had been upset about the row with Luke, but had had a talk with David and everything seemed to be fine. It wasn’t until after the dinner dishes were done and the men were back in the fields, that Verna asked her to take a tray to Guy in his room.
She had knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, she assumed he was asleep. She opened the door to take his tray in to him, but he wasn’t there.
Judith blinked back tears and smiled as Eli knocked over his stack of blocks, giggling at the fun.
Absently, she helped Eli stack up the blocks again, but it was like someone else was playing with her nephew while she stood at a distance, watching.
Where could Guy be? The bedroom window had been open, but that was the only sign that he’d left.
“Ran away,” Matthew had said Sunday afternoon, after he came home from visiting David. “Verna said he took a few things and was gone.”
“But he’ll come back, won’t he?”
Judith hadn’t been able to believe that Guy would disappear without a word to anyone, but he was gone. It had been all anyone talked about during the fellowship dinner yesterday after church. Matthew had volunteered to do Guy’s chores, as well as his own, but he wasn’t happy about the extra work.
But where was Guy? And when would he come back?
Eli knocked the stack of blocks over again and laughed. He clapped his hands, waiting for her to join in. But Judith doubted if she’d ever feel like laughing again.
When Eli yawned, Judith reached for the wooden box Matthew had made to hold the blocks and started putting them in.
“It’s time for your nap.”
“Ne.” Eli frowned, shaking his head.
When Eli was being stubborn, she found she could easily distract him by inviting him to do something else with her.
“Show me how neatly you can put the blocks in the box,” Judith said.
She counted as he stacked them, maneuvering them so they would fit. Once all the blocks were in the box, Eli pushed it toward the toy shelf in the corner of the front room.
“Cookie?” He tugged at her sleeve. “Cookie?”
Judith shook her head as she picked him up. “We just finished dinner, and you had a cookie then.”
He rested his head against her shoulder as she walked toward the stairway.
“Cookie?” The word was slurred, and she knew he had his thumb in his mouth.
“After your nap.”
As she passed the kitchen, Judith saw a movement at the kitchen door. Guy was on the porch, waving to her through the window. She motioned him in, then took Eli up to his bed. By the time she took his shoes off, he was sound asleep and she flew back downstairs.
“Guy!” She whispered his name as she stopped in the doorway.
She hadn’t been imagining it. He was here, sitting at the kitchen table. His face was drawn, with whiskers like bristles on his chin. The left side of his face was bruised, especially under his eye, and his nose was swollen. His clothes were filthy, with mud caking the legs of his trousers. He looked terrible. But he was the best thing she had ever seen.
He didn’t move as she slipped into the chair next to his.
“Where are Annie and Matthew? Are we alone?”
Judith nodded. “Annie is taking a nap with the twins, and Matthew is working at his daed’s today.” She rested her hand on his arm and leaned toward him. “Are you all right? We’ve been worried about you. Where have you been?”
He shrugged. “Here and there.”
“Are you hungry?”
Guy gave a raspy “Ja,” so she took the loaf
of bread from the counter and brought it to the table with the crock of butter. She sliced the bread and he took it as soon as she spread the butter on it.
“Mmm.” He grunted and nodded as he chewed. “This tastes good.”
“When is the last time you ate?”
He still hadn’t looked at her, but watched the bread in his hand as if it would disappear. “I only had a few coins, and I used that on Saturday to buy some bread and cheese at the store in Emma.” He stuffed the remaining part of his slice in his mouth and talked around it. “I almost didn’t even go there. I thought I might see someone I knew.”
Judith cut another slice of bread and buttered it. While he ate it, she went to the cellar and got the rest of the summer sausage they had eaten for dinner, along with a jar of canned pears. When she came upstairs, Guy was at the sink, pumping water into a glass. As she put the food on the table, he leaned with his back against the sink and took a long drink of water, watching her. He filled his glass again and sat back down at the table.
“You must think I have terrible manners.” He took the sausage from her and sliced some for a sandwich.
“I think you’re hungry.”
“I was.”
When Guy caught her gaze with his and smiled, Judith felt a laugh bubble up inside her. She slipped her hand into his as he took a bite of his sandwich.
“I’m glad you’re all right. I’ve missed you.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ve missed you, too.”
She opened the jar of pears.
“Don’t bother with a bowl,” he said, taking the jar from her. “I’ll just eat them this way.” He fished in the jar with his fork until he speared a pear half.
“Have you seen David and Verna? Do they know you’re back?”
Guy put the jar down and took her hand again. “I’m not back, Judith. I just had to see you before I leave for good. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“What do you mean, you’re not back?” Judith switched to Englisch to make sure he understood her. “You’re here. All you have to do is walk across the road and you’re home.”
