by Leslie Gould
“She did,” Eve said. Abra loved to have fun, whether it was playing a game, pulling a prank, or telling a joke. Her Dat was like that too. A loving, generous man, and her Mamm, although she didn’t come by it naturally, was happy to play along.
“Do you want me to feed you?”
He shook his head. “I can do it.” He put the syringe into the smoothie, drew the mixture into it, squirted the smoothie into his mouth, swallowed, and then said, “How come Dat doesn’t like that Englisch kid?”
“Did he say that?”
“No. But he said he shouldn’t have asked him to do my chores. I told him I could do them tomorrow.”
Eve shook her head. “The doctor said you have to rest. No bright lights. No sudden movements. No activity.”
He groaned. “I’m going to go crazy.”
Eve looked her nephew in the eyes. “You could have been killed. I’m so thankful that the worst of all of this is you being bored.” Although she guessed his jaw and neck hurt more than he let on. “God wants you to heal. That’s your job right now.”
“Mammi and Dawdi prayed for me,” Simon said. “Out loud.”
Eve smiled, remembering how it felt to be prayed over. She tousled Simon’s hair again and couldn’t help but say, “Bless them.”
He squirted the syringe into his mouth and then refilled it as Eve leaned against the headboard. Abra’s parents had left the church soon after Simon was born. “For several reasons,” they’d said. But Eve was pretty sure they believed the bishop, the one before Gideon, had coerced Abra into marrying Tim.
After Simon was born, suddenly Daniel and Lila, who were only two, couldn’t do anything right in Tim’s eyes. And Abra’s parents, Leona and Eli, were concerned—they talked to the bishop about it, and to Tim too.
Abra told her parents she thought she could handle the situation and make the marriage work, and the bishop chastised them for meddling. Eve knew it was hard for them to leave the church, but they also felt in the long run they’d be more available to rescue Abra and the children from the outside, if needed.
Tim stopped being as obvious about favoring Simon after that, but he’d shunned Leona and Eli worse than anyone in the district, saying he didn’t want them influencing his children.
He couldn’t stop Abra from seeing them though, and then when she was so sick and in treatment, after Trudy was born, Leona and Eli welcomed all of them—except for Tim—into their home.
Simon plunged the syringe into the glass again and sucked the smoothie into it. He groaned. “I’m going to become an eighty-pound weakling.”
Eve nudged him. “Don’t you weigh seventy-five?”
He nodded. “But I’ve never been a weakling. Nobody wants a weak soldier.”
Eve nudged him again. “Hush.” She knew he was joking, but it still disturbed her. She waited until he finished the smoothie and then took the glass. “Rest for a while, and then Lila will come in and read to you.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “I’d rather play a game with Daniel and the boy.”
Eve smiled. “Be thankful you have a sister who likes to read out loud. Count your blessings—there’s much to be thankful for.”
By the time Shani came to pick up Zane, the boys were done with the chores and were visiting with Simon, sitting in the dark on the floor beside his bed. Eve opened the door for Shani, relieved her friend had arrived before Tim came in from the barn.
Lila mashed the potatoes while Rose set the table and Trudy sat in her chair, chewing on a cracker. Eve motioned to her oldest niece to go get Zane, and she obeyed quickly.
“Thank you,” Shani said. “This has been a huge help. Is it okay if he comes tomorrow too?”
Eve nodded.
“Are you sure?” Shani asked. Did she suspect all was not well?
“Jah,” Eve said. “He’s welcome here.” At least until Tim said otherwise, directly to the boy.
Daniel came out with Zane, but it was Lila who told him good-bye. “See you tomorrow,” she said.
Zane waved to the older children and then patted Trudy’s head. She giggled in return. Eve followed her neighbors out the door and said good-bye, wishing she had more time with Shani.
As Shani pulled the van around and back toward the lane, Tim started toward the house from the barn. Eve couldn’t figure out her brother. He was downright gentle with his livestock, coddling them along. One of his milk cows had died in the summer, which was a financial loss, but he was more worried about her “best friend,” the cow she spent time with the most. True, he worried about losing another cow and milk production and all of that, but his concern for the animal’s emotional state seemed genuine. He empathized with her loss. It gave Eve a small measure of hope. Maybe he could learn to be compassionate with humans too. But she certainly wasn’t seeing any inkling of that today.
Eve waited for him. When he approached, she asked, “Have you spoken to Gideon about getting your job back?”
He shook his head. “But I will. Soon.”
She nodded. “Gut,” she answered, turning toward the house.
14
On Friday, as Charlie drove his pickup truck across the Lancaster County line, his windshield wipers swept away the last of the rain, and a few minutes later the late morning sun began to poke through the clouds. He’d been thinking about Eve again, without even realizing it.
He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the scenery instead. To the right cornstalks swayed in the breeze. He downshifted the truck as he came to a curve and took it slowly, mindful there could be a buggy around the corner. There wasn’t.
It was just over an hour, as long as there was no traffic or accidents, from his house to where the Becks lived. And another twenty minutes on into Lancaster.
He pressed down on the gas pedal for a straight stretch. When he went through his mobilization training, before shipping out to Iraq, one of the financial officers had warned all of the soldiers against buying a truck with their combat pay. Or a Harley. Either could be ordered on base.
Buying such a thing had been the last thing on Charlie’s mind—until Nikki broke up with him via email the day after the attack that injured Joel and killed their buddy Samuel.
That afternoon, with his arm bandaged from his wrist to his elbow, he’d gone down to the dealer on the base and ordered his truck. A Chevrolet Silverado with a king cab and canopy. The biggest rig he’d ever owned. Ever would, he was sure. It was waiting for him when he got back home.
Now he regretted getting the truck. He should have gotten something half the size and half the price. It hadn’t made him feel any better, not in the long run. He’d always been a modest person—until then.
And every day the pickup reminded him of May eleventh. Not May twelfth, the day Nikki broke up with him. In retrospect that second awful day paled in comparison to the first. There was no way to explain to someone who wasn’t a soldier the wrenching pain of losing one brother and not being able to save the second from horrible harm.
That day stayed crystal clear in his mind. It always would.
Charlie had always been an optimistic person, definitely a glass-half-full kind of guy. And he still was, but he’d had to pick the glass up a few times in the last few months to keep it from tipping over.
His co-workers at the station watched him closely, as if looking for him to break. But the truth was, after being in a war zone, he didn’t think there was much that could make him panic. It took a lot to get his adrenaline up now.
On his past three days at work, he’d dealt with several traffic accidents, a few heart attacks, a fall from a ladder, a two-year-old who had wedged his leg through the slats of his crib, and an old man who’d died from natural causes at home. All of it was upsetting, some of it downright tragic, but it still felt minor compared to his time in Iraq.
He downshifted again when he reached the edge of town, taking in the brick houses that soon gave way to brownstones. He appreciated the city of Lancaster with its old architectu
re and history, going back to colonial days. He wondered if Eve came into the city often—and then slapped the heel of hand against his forehead and sighed. He was thinking about her again. Maybe it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he’d ever act on his feelings—or as if she’d reciprocate them.
By the time he reached the parking lot at the hospital the sky had cleared. He found a spot, backed in, and strolled toward the main entrance. He’d talked to Joel the night before and said he’d be at the hospital long before noon. By the time he stepped into his friend’s room, Joel was eating his lunch.
“A little early, isn’t it?” Charlie asked.
Joel shook his head. “Not around here. We’re on a schedule that mimics a preschool.”
Charlie turned and looked at the clock above the door. “So that means naptime is in ten minutes?”
“Yeah, you’ve got the idea,” Joel said. “Except I get to skip it today.”
“Says who?”
Joel put his fork down on the edge of his plate of macaroni and cheese. He’d only eaten half of it. “The doc. He’s releasing me.” He knocked on the cast on his leg.
“That’s great!” The railing wasn’t on the ramp yet, but he’d still be able to get his friend into his house.
Joel sighed. “I can’t get ahold of Shani though. She’s in orientation again today.”
“I can take you,” Charlie said, his mind racing through the details. “Where’s your chair? Back at the house?”
Joel shook his head. “In the van. I told her to put it in yesterday so it would be there when they finally released me.”
“I can track her down and get the key.”
“Chances are it isn’t locked.” Joel shook his head. Charlie knew that was one of his pet peeves with Shani. While they were in Iraq, Joel used to remind her to lock the front door of their apartment. They’d talked regularly over Skype. In fact, Joel was the first person Charlie knew to use the Internet program so he could talk with and see Shani as often as possible. It was one of the benefits of being a communications specialist.
“I’ll go see if I can find her van,” Charlie said. He’d seen the sign to employee parking. He’d start there.
It didn’t take long, and sure enough the van wasn’t locked. He lifted the wheelchair down, opened it, and headed back to Joel’s room. When Charlie visited Joel in Texas, Joel had said his relationship with Shani hadn’t changed much but everything was different with Zane. Joel said he didn’t know if it was because he’d almost died or because he was crippled, but the kid treated him as if he were invisible.
Charlie hadn’t known how to answer his friend and had ended up saying, “Give it time.”
Time. What did he know about time healing the emotional wounds of a twelve-year-old? And Charlie was pretty sure Joel’s relationship with Shani had changed more than his friend realized. Joel was probably in denial. Still, they seemed to be hanging in there.
Joel sat on the edge of his bed, a nurse beside him, when Charlie reentered his room. “Could you send Shani a text?” Joel asked. “Tell her you sprung me out of here. My cell’s in her purse.”
Charlie did as Joel asked while the nurse went through the discharge protocol with Joel. He found the sound of his friend’s voice comforting even though what he and the nurse were discussing was routine. Medication. Pain levels. An order for physical therapy once he was out of the cast. But it was all music to Charlie’s ears. This was a setback for Joel—but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.
Joel signed the last piece of paper and then took the packet of instructions from the nurse, tucking it along the side of the chair. Charlie pushed him from the room and then down the hall, wondering if he’d be able to get Joel into the backseat of his truck. He hadn’t thought about that. It was quite the step up. Joel could always stand on Charlie’s toolbox—he’d packed it so he wouldn’t have to borrow Tim’s tools.
As it turned out he did have to use the toolbox. He was afraid Joel would grow frustrated, but he kept his sense of humor, until Charlie asked what was in the pocket of his jacket. He shouldn’t have.
“Just my cigs,” Joel said.
“I thought you quit.”
“I have, mostly. Especially this week—traction makes it a little hard to get outside.” Charlie thought of the smoking area outside the hospital.
Joel swung his cast around on the seat, his back toward Charlie. “Shani didn’t notice them in the inside pocket of my jacket when she brought it. Or at least she didn’t mention them.” He shrugged. “On bad days, a smoke helps me get through it.” Charlie wondered what exactly Joel considered a bad day.
As Charlie drove out of the parking garage, he glanced at Joel in the rearview mirror. His eyes were closed, but he was sitting straight up and didn’t look relaxed at all.
Joel hadn’t smoked before Iraq, but lots of soldiers started over there. Not Charlie. But he wasn’t going to be judgmental. Joel was a big boy—and one of the best soldiers Charlie knew.
Joel had been assigned to Charlie’s Army Reserve unit a couple of months before they’d been deployed. Joel led the advance team and Charlie went with him.
Joel was a good leader and a good soldier. He was excited at first to go, even giddy. He’d trained for it his entire adult life. They all had. But early on the seriousness of the deployment began to weigh on Joel.
Then losing Samuel took a huge toll on him. Much worse, of course, than his own injuries. Charlie was pretty sure that, if Joel had the choice, he’d have traded places with Samuel. That was the kind of leader he was.
Charlie drove in silence. Eventually Joel leaned back and seemed to relax some. Charlie slowed as he turned down the lane and then slowed even more as he passed the turn to the Lehmans’ place. He looked down the driveway, hoping to catch a glance of Eve, but no one was in sight.
Joel breathed in deeply. “Smells just like I remember.”
Charlie ignored him. It didn’t smell that bad, at least not for a dairy.
As he eased around the bend, the ramp came into view. Half the railing was up. A split second later Charlie could see Tim positioning a slat in place.
A buggy with a horse harnessed to it was parked at the end of the ramp. Perhaps Tim had brought over more tools.
Charlie opened the truck door and called out a hello. Tim waved.
“What’s he doing here?” Joel asked from the backseat.
“Looks as if he’s finishing up the ramp.”
“Oh,” Joel responded. “I thought it was all done.”
“Mostly done,” Charlie countered, trying to keep his voice light. He hurried around the back of the truck, opened the tailgate, pulled Joel’s chair to the ground, and quickly popped it open. By the time he’d pushed it to the backseat door, Joel had it open.
“I’ll get the tool chest,” Charlie said.
“I don’t need it,” Joel answered as he eased himself down to the ground, holding onto the door. Charlie positioned the chair, put the brakes on, and then helped Joel swing around, thankful Tim was on the other side of the truck and couldn’t see the maneuver they had to go through. It was kind of like dancing.
He burst out laughing at the thought.
“Stop it,” Joel said, but his voice held a lighter tone than usual, more like the old Joel.
Charlie pushed the chair up to the beginning of the ramp. “Ready?” he said to Joel, just as Eve came out the front door, holding the baby in one arm and a box in the other. A strand of her dark hair had escaped her Kapp, and her face was flushed.
“Hold on,” Charlie said to Joel, setting the brake on the chair again. He hurried around the ramp to the steps and bounded up them, reaching for the box.
“Denki,” she said, sliding the box toward him. “I was making a smoothie for Simon. Shani said it was okay. You can put the box in the front of the buggy.”
Charlie’s face grew warm as their hands tangled. He pulled away. “How’s Simon doing?”
“Tim took him to the do
ctor yesterday. He said he’s doing well.”
Charlie headed toward the buggy, leading the way.
“You can put it on the floor, on the passenger side,” Eve said, stopping next to Joel’s chair and introducing herself.
Joel offered her his hand, and she shook it. The baby gurgled.
“Nice to meet both of you,” Joel said. “Shani’s told me about . . . all of you. All good things, of course.”
Eve smiled at him, warmly. “Ditto,” she said, surprising Charlie with the word. It didn’t seem like one an Amish woman would use.
She turned toward Tim telling him good-bye, and then climbed into the buggy, still holding the baby. She turned the buggy around. “I’ll see you at supper,” she called out to Tim.
Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if Shani had gotten any food. He should have brought a bag of groceries. It had to have been a hard week for her. He returned to his friend, placing his hands on the back of the chair to push him up the ramp, but Joel said, “It’s nice out. I’d like to get some fresh air.”
Tim struck a nail with his hammer. “Not much of that in the hospital, is there?”
Joel smiled. “That’s for sure.”
Tim stepped toward Joel. “I met you, that day at the hospital.”
Joel nodded. “I remember.” He glanced at the ramp. “Thank you for your help on this.”
Tim tipped his hat and then returned to work.
Charlie opened his toolbox, took out his belt, and started working alongside Tim while Joel sat in the sunshine. None of the men spoke, but the sound of the hammers broke the silence, over and over.
Later in the afternoon, after Charlie had pushed Joel up the ramp into the house and turned on the TV, Zane and Daniel popped through the bushes from the field.
“Eve said you were back,” Zane called out.
Charlie nodded and then said, “Your dad’s in the house. Go tell him hello.”
Zane started up the steps with Daniel beside him.
“Stay out here, son,” Tim said. Daniel obeyed, sitting down on the top step.
