The Rescued

by Marta Perry

  She ached with the need to touch him, but she was afraid he’d jerk away if she did. She had to do something, say something. What kind of a wife was she if she couldn’t comfort him now?

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “The storm has made you remember.”

  Soft though it had been, her voice seemed to sting him. He jerked, then moved as if to get out of bed.

  Judith reached out to stop him. “Please,” she murmured. “Please don’t go.” If he shut her out again, she feared they would never bridge the gap between them.

  His struggle was a silent one, but real nonetheless. Finally he sat back against the headboard. “Sorry.” His voice had roughened. “I’m being stupid. I’m a grown man, not a child to be scared of a little lightning.”

  The bitterness in his tone frightened her. “You’re not stupid. The fire in the shed, and now a storm right on top of it—of course it would bring your memories back.” She paused, but he didn’t respond. “There was a storm that night.”

  She said the words, praying he would speak. If only he’d open up and let her in . . .

  “Ja.” He was rigid, every muscle in his body tense. “Maybe it was the storm that woke me, maybe it was Joseph’s crying.” He stopped, making her plead with God to force him to go on. “I didn’t understand, not at first. The smoke must have already been affecting me. I couldn’t seem to get my brain to work. Just kept thinking the baby was crying and I had to go to him.”

  Lightning flashed again, illuminating the room momentarily, and his muscles jerked.

  “Mamm had moved him into the little room across the hall just that day. Maybe I thought she didn’t hear. I got up—” Another lightning flash revealed his eyes, staring at something that wasn’t there. “The floor was hot under my feet. I opened the door. The smoke rushed at me. I was choking, couldn’t think. I must have yelled for Daad. I felt my way to the baby’s room.”

  He was back in that time, she sensed, feeling his way through the smoke, drawn by the crying.

  “Seemed like his room was a little protected from the smoke. He still had breath to cry. I grabbed him up. Yelled for Daad again.”

  He stopped, sucking in a ragged breath, his chest moving with the effort.

  “The flames—I ran down the steps. Tried to shield Joseph with a blanket. Onkel Simon, the others—they came running as I got outside. Tried to get the others out.” Isaac shook his head, rolling it from side to side as if to escape the images in his mind. “They couldn’t. I couldn’t.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” How many people must have said that to Isaac? It hadn’t worked. It hadn’t taken his guilt away. “You saved Joseph. Don’t you think that was what your mamm and daad would have wanted?”

  Isaac just shook his head. He moved, and she was sure he was going to pull away from her. Lightning flashed, the boom of thunder following almost immediately. She was going to lose him—

  He turned toward her, grabbed her, holding on as if to a lifeline. He buried his face in her neck, clutching her.

  Judith wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, and waited for the storm to be over.

  • • •

  In the usual morning rush to get the boys out the door for school on time, Judith still managed to find a moment to think tenderly about Isaac. He’d opened up to her in a way he never had in all the years they’d been married. Even though her heart still felt bruised and battered by his pain, she couldn’t help but be hopeful, as well. Surely this was the beginning of a new closeness for them—of the kind of marriage she’d longed for with Isaac.

  “Mammi, I can’t find my homework.” Levi’s voice rose to near-panic level. Always so conscientious, he never seemed to lose things like his brother did.

  “Levi, it has to be here someplace. I know you did it. Let’s look in the drawers of the study desk.” She and Levi began scouring the area of the study desk, hindered a little by Noah’s decision to help until Joseph lifted him firmly out of the way.

  “It’s not here!” Levi was close to tears, despite the fact that his teacher would certain-sure believe him when he said he’d done it. “I can’t go without it.”

  “Let’s just have another look.” Isaac gripped his shoulder in mute reassurance. “Maybe it got mixed in with your brother’s things.”

  As soon as Isaac said it, Judith realized how likely that was. Paul had scooped his things up hurriedly last night when she’d said that supper was nearly ready.

  “I didn’t take it.” Paul was indignant, and it was almost comical to see his expression change when Joseph pulled the missing homework from the scrambled mass of his papers. “I’m sorry, Levi. I’m sorry, Mammi.” Now it was his turn to be near tears. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m really, really sorry.”

  Levi smoothed out the pages carefully. Then he grinned. “Okay. I know.”

  Judith put an arm around each of them to walk them to the door, followed by Joseph, who always walked far enough to watch them reach the schoolhouse door safely. Both boys had acted exactly the way she’d expected, Paul with his quick, sincere repentance and Levi with his forgiveness. This was one of those moments when she thought that perhaps she was doing something right with them.

  But even as she waved good-bye to the three of them, she realized that Joseph was the exception. He hadn’t been behaving at all as she’d expected, and it disturbed her. She’d thought he’d come home from his first vocational class bubbling over with his excitement at being allowed to do what he said he wanted more than anything. Instead, he’d barely spoken about it.

  Odd. Wouldn’t it be strange if Isaac had been right all along, and Joseph was losing his passion for mechanics now that he was into his studies? Well, she’d have to find an opportunity to talk to him about it.

  More importantly, she had to find a chance to talk with Isaac, and preferably not when Noah was tugging on her apron and needing attention.

  “Mammi, Mammi, Mammi!” He was always so urgent when he wanted something.

  She detached his fingers from the apron carefully. One of the lessons he had to learn was that a person didn’t get everything he wanted right away.

  “I’ll help you work on your letters after I’ve finished cleaning up the kitchen,” she said. “Just now, you can go upstairs, make your bed, and brush your teeth. Then you’ll be ready for the day.” Noah’s version of making his bed was sometimes rather messy, but it was important that he take the responsibility.

  Daily routine was crucial in an Amish home. It kept everything running smoothly with a large family to tend to. Noah pouted just a little, but he trudged off, leaving her alone in the kitchen with Isaac.

  Her heart fluttered, but she knew she had to speak. How could she justify keeping a secret from him after what had happened between them last night? He had trusted her with the most painful event of his life. There must be no more secrets between them.

  But she quailed at the thought of Isaac’s probable reaction to a blunt statement that Joseph had no intention of running the dairy farm. She must choose her words carefully. Surely, even if Isaac didn’t want to hear this news, they could agree on a way to handle the situation without alienating Joseph completely. Isaac must know that result was not what his father would have wanted.

  Judith took a breath, feeling as if her heart was beating more loudly than it should. “Isaac, there’s something I want to talk to you about. Do you have time to sit down with me for another cup of coffee?”

  His expression wasn’t encouraging. He was frowning and preoccupied by something she couldn’t guess. “Can it wait until later? I’ve heard about a used generator that might be just right for us. I want to follow up on it this morning, so I can get Fred Yoder’s back to him.”

  As usual, there was a slight difference in his voice when Isaac mentioned Fred’s name, and her grandmother’s opinion as to t
he cause slipped into Judith’s thoughts. “I thought Fred said there was no hurry in getting it back to him.”

  That must have been the wrong thing to say, because Isaac’s frown deepened. “It’s not right for me to be using it and not paying him, but Fred refused to take any money. I don’t want to feel like I owe him.”

  “I’m sure he’d do the same for any in the church who needed it.”

  Isaac shrugged. “Maybe so, but it’s as well to get it taken care of. We can talk later, ain’t so?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but before he left he came and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers for a moment. “Later,” he said softly, and then he was gone.

  Judith looked after him, touching her lips with her fingertips as if she could hold the warmth of his kiss there. Later—so she’d have to get her courage together again.

  Still, maybe she’d be able to talk to Joseph about his vocational school experience first. That might be just as well, especially if the boy was losing his initial enthusiasm.

  But it wasn’t until afternoon that the opportunity to talk to Joseph arose. He came in from the barn where he and Isaac had been working since Isaac had returned, disappointed, from looking at the generator he’d heard of; the machine had proved to be unsuitable. Joseph stopped to wipe his feet before coming into the kitchen.

  “Quiet in here,” he said. “Is Noah asleep?” He crossed to the sink and filled a glass with water.

  “Shh. He thinks he’s ‘reading’ a storybook, but his eyes are so heavy he’ll be out in a minute or two.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Joseph leaned against the counter. “He was chasing that pesky rooster around most of the morning. It got out of the pen again.”

  Judith just shook her head. They both knew the old rooster spent more time out of the pen than in. “You haven’t said much about your first class,” she commented, trying to keep her tone casual. “Was it a disappointment?”

  “No!” The vehemence of Joseph’s response startled her, and when she looked at him, it was like seeing him come alive right in front of her. “It was everything I hoped it would be. More, even. You wouldn’t believe how much I learned in just one session.”

  “That’s good, ain’t so? So why haven’t you been talking about it? If you showed Isaac how much you enjoyed it—”

  “It wouldn’t do any good.” All the joy washed out of Joseph’s face as if it had never been there.

  “Joseph, I don’t think you’re being fair to your bruder. If you just explain calmly how much it means to you, I’m certain-sure he will listen.”

  At least, she hoped and prayed that he would. It was so hard to stand them, loving them so much and seeing them constantly misunderstand each other.

  Joseph was already shaking his head, his face set in stubborn lines. “I know just how it would be. Isaac will never agree. He’s going to try and keep me stuck here on the farm forever, doing something I hate.”

  “Don’t talk that way.” Honestly, a teenage boy could try the patience of a saint. “You know you don’t really hate the farm.”

  He had the grace to look a bit ashamed. “Well, maybe not hate. But I certain-sure don’t want to be a dairy farmer for the rest of my life. Why should I when I can be happy doing something I’m really good at?”

  “You think that now, but—” She knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

  “I won’t change my mind! And I am good at working with machines. Everyone says so. Even Isaac admits it. You know. Didn’t Fred tell you that he’d take me on as an apprentice in a minute if only Isaac would agree?” Joseph’s impassioned look demanded an answer from her.

  “He did say that, and I’m sure he meant it. Fred won’t change his mind about giving you the opportunity, but if you can just be patient, maybe in time Isaac will agree.”

  “He’ll never agree. Isn’t that just what I’ve been telling you? Isaac will never agree.”

  A step sounded, and both of them swung toward the door. Isaac stood there, and clearly he had heard. His face was white and set in lines as hard as stone.

  “I will never agree to you throwing your life away.” His voice was harsh. Final. “Never.”

  His gaze went from his brother to her, and Judith felt as if he’d struck her.

  Isaac would never do such a thing, of course. But at the moment, she thought it might be preferable. He stood there looking at her as if she were a stranger.

  As always, she had tried her best to keep everyone happy, and somehow she’d managed to disappoint them all, including herself. The beautiful dreams she’d had such a short time ago fell to lie shattered at her feet.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Isaac felt as if he were frozen to the spot, staring at his wife and his brother. He wasn’t sure how he’d even gotten the words out.

  “You see?” Joseph’s voice rose, breaking a little. “I was right. I told you he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Don’t, Joseph.” Judith stepped between them, her eyes pleading with him. “Isaac, just listen.”

  Listen. Anger, hot and fierce, chased the ice away. How could he listen when it was so plain that they had been keeping secrets from him? Betraying him.

  Judith looked from him to Joseph, her face taut with pain. “Isaac just wants what’s best for you. If only the two of you would talk—”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” He ground out the words, fighting to keep his anger under control. He glared at his brother. “Our father wanted you to have the farm. I have sacrificed to keep it going for you.”

  “I don’t want it! Can’t you understand?” Joseph’s fists clenched, and the muscles in his neck stood out like cords. “I don’t want this life.”

  Isaac shook his head, dismissing the words. “You don’t know. You’re only fourteen.”

  “You knew when you were only a little older than me,” Joseph flared out at him.

  The words flicked like a blow on a fresh burn. “I knew because I had to. Because I had to grow up then, didn’t I? Grow up and try to be the man my father expected me to be.”

  Joseph’s face twisted. “You expect me to sacrifice everything I want to make you feel better.”

  “You are—”

  “Isaac, don’t.” Judith stood between them, holding a hand out to each of them, tears filling her eyes. “Anger isn’t the way.”

  Isaac stopped. Took a grip on himself. He was angry, all right, but wasn’t it justified? “Don’t you know how many boys would love to be in your position, with a thriving business to take over?”

  “Sure, lots of boys would. Levi would. But not me!”

  Fresh pain assaulted Isaac. Levi, his Levi, who wanted the thing Joseph was so eager to throw away. He had to do something for Levi, too. The pressure built from every side, pressing on him.

  Right now he had to deal with Joseph. He had to concentrate on him, had to end this foolishness before it got any worse.

  “Just put these ideas out of your head. Whatever Fred Yoder has been promising you is nonsense.” A separate little flare of anger lit at the thought of Fred.

  “I can’t forget it. It’s not nonsense. Fred appreciates what I can do even if you don’t.”

  Isaac’s jaw hardened until he thought it would shatter. “Fred is interfering in what doesn’t concern him.”

  “Why don’t you tell the truth?” Joseph’s face went from flushed to white. “You wish you hadn’t saved me that night. You wish I had died and the others had lived.”

  He ran for the door, slamming it behind him, leaving stunned silence in the kitchen.

  Tears spilled onto Judith’s cheeks. “Isaac, go after him. Tell him it’s not so. That’s a terrible thing for a boy to believe. Tell him.”

  “Is Joseph all you care about?” Isaac held on to his anger, because he didn’t know what would happen if he let it
go. Joseph, Judith, Fred Yoder—all plotting against him. “Never mind. I know.”

  “That’s not true. You know it’s not.” Her voice was choked with tears. “I’m just trying to keep you and Joseph from hurting each other any worse.”

  He’d trusted her. He’d told her things he’d never said to a soul. And now she was siding with his own brother against him. A pulse beat in his head so loudly it seemed it would deafen him. He couldn’t handle any more.

  He turned away, searching almost blindly for the door.

  “Isaac, wait. We have to talk.” Judith touched his arm, and he jerked away as if her hand were a hot coal.

  “Not now.” Maybe not ever; not about this. Focusing on moving as intently as if he were drunk, he walked away.

  Lancaster County, September 10, 1953

  Adam approached Mattie’s house, having timed his visit to arrive when he thought she and the kinder would have finished supper. Sure enough, he could see her standing at the sink, turning her face away from the window to say something to Rachel. She looked strained, as if the waiting and wondering were tugging her down.

  A surge of very non-Amish anger swept through him. It wasn’t fair that Mattie should be caught up in such turmoil. She’d been through enough. Still, he had to confess he’d felt another non-Amish emotion, pride, when he’d seen her stand with Rachel and watch the school bus pull away.

  A week had passed since then, and the whole community seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the repercussions which would surely come. Not one Amish child from their church district had gone to the consolidated high school. From what he’d heard, the Leit in nearby congregations who were affected had done the same. What would the school district do?

  He mounted the familiar steps to the back porch and tapped lightly on the door, hearing the scurrying of the kinder and then Rachel approaching. She opened the door, the faint apprehension on her face fading at the sight of him.