by Donna Fasano
“Not much. Bottom of the first. Zach is out in left field.”
He gazed toward the outfield and lifted his hand to acknowledge Zach’s wave.
“I want to thank you for spending so much time with him,” Tyne said.
“No thanks necessary. He’s family.”
She brushed the toe of her sandal across the grass. “We’ve been having some…problems lately. Zach and I.”
Jasper watched the young man who stepped up to the plate. “I know.”
His reply surprised her. “He’s told you?”
He shook his head. “Not outright. He’s keeping secrets; an old man can see these things. I can also tell from what he has said that he’s upset about something. Angry. Bitter, really. And worried.” Jasper shrugged. “About something.”
The smoke from a charcoal grill wafted toward them, carrying with it the scent of grilling hot dogs.
When she didn’t speak, he continued, his eye riveted to the batter who now had a strike against him, “I want to tell you that I like Zach. I like him a lot. He reminds me of Lucas when he was young. He’s smart, and he’s inquisitive. Those are fine traits for a young man to have.”
A lump gathered in her throat and tears sprang to her eyes, and she was suddenly very grateful for the cover of her sunglasses. Her heart swelled hearing Jasper voice a positive opinion about Zach. She’d been sick with worry. She knew somewhere inside her son lurked the happy, considerate individual she’d raised, but she was at a loss about how to bring that out in him again.
Jasper went quiet when the batter hit a fly ball into left field. His hoot was unrestrained and he clapped when Zach caught it and clinched the third out. A buzz of conversation stirred through the spectators as the teams switched places.
Giving Zach a thumb’s up, Tyne tried not to be bothered when her son refused to acknowledge her. She crossed one leg over the other and sighed.
“I have noticed,” Jasper said, “that Zach has—at the risk of using the current psychobabble of the day—some issues. He can be moody. He’s got a temper, and a penchant to blame others when things go wrong.”
Tyne fixed her gaze on the field, watching the opposing players take their positions. “You learned all that in the short time you’ve spent with him?”
Jasper chuckled. “You forget. I raised his father.”
Tyne smiled.
Then he leaned toward her. “I haven’t mentioned this to Zach; I wanted to ask you first. Would you allow me to take him camping? It would give us a chance to spend a few days together, one on one. I’ll teach him to pitch a tent and build a proper fire. We’ll do a little fishing, a little hunting, a little cooking on an open fire. And we’ll have plenty of time to talk.”
“Hunting? Oh, I don’t know, Jasper.” The idea of killing an animal made Tyne shiver. “We buy our chicken cutlets and ground beef at the local Acme. I don’t know if Zach could handle something like that.” And she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
“It’s the middle of summer,” he reminded her with a gentle smile. “We might have special permission from the State to hunt on our own land year round, but game is scarce in the heat. The animals tend to move up into the mountains where it’s cooler.” His grin made his chocolate brown eyes twinkle. “I’ll remember to pack a loaf of bread and a large jar of peanut butter. The truth is, Tyne, we will be hunting, but not for game. We’re going to find Zach’s manhood.”
She just looked at him, uncertain what to say, and again her eyes welled. Her voice came out wobbly when she finally said, “I’d love for you to take him camping, Jasper. I trust you completely. I can only hope and pray that the hunt is successful. And I want you to know that I’ll be grateful for anything you’re able to do for him.” She frowned, then. “There are some things you should know—” she glanced over to the bench where her son and his teammates were seated, Zach’s broad back facing her. Then she looked at Jasper “—some things I should probably tell you.”
He lifted his calloused palm. “Zach will tell me whatever I need to know.”
An absolute assurance exuded from him, and she was pervaded with a strange and wondrous tranquility.
Jasper’s gaze lifted to somewhere behind her. “Lucas is here.” He lifted a hand in greeting.
Tyne turned too late to see if Lucas returned his uncle’s wave. He made no move to join them.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to Jasper. “I’m going to go say hello.”
Passing the batter’s box, she saw Zach was choosing a bat from among several that leaned up against the chain link backstop.
“Smack one out of the park,” she called. He didn’t lift his head. In fact, he made no reaction whatsoever. She wasn’t really surprised.
She smiled at Lucas when she reached him. “You got my text? I’m glad.” Since he’d walked in on her and Zach’s quarrel and she’d ended up telling him about the past, she’d experienced a sort of buoyancy, as though sharing her burden had somehow lightened it.
“Sorry it took me so long. Jim and I caught up a bit.”
“You want to come sit down?” she asked.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather stand. I’ve been sitting all afternoon.”
“That’s fine.” She smoothed her hands over the sun-warmed skin of her forearms. “Were you able to help him? Your friend?”
“I was.” He nodded. “A communications company wants to install a tower on a corner of Jim’s property and he needed some help deciphering some of the legal jargon in the contract.” He smiled. “He wanted to pay me, and when I refused his money, he made me take a pack of New York strip steaks. ‘A fair barter,’ he called it.”
“Steaks for legal advice.” She licked her lips animatedly and touched her tummy. “Yum!”
They both went quiet when Zach stepped up to the plate. He gave the bat a couple of practice swings, then settled into a tense stance. The ball sailed across home plate, Zach swung late, and the ball slapped into the catcher’s mitt.
Lucas shouted, “It’s okay, Zach. Relax. Plant your front foot.”
“The next one’s yours, Zach,” Jasper called out.
The pitcher threw the ball, and again Zach swung just a fraction too late.
Tyne pressed her hand to her stomach, sucking in a breath with a hiss. “Strike two,” she whispered.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, Lucas yelled, “Plant your front foot, son!”
Zach’s attention wavered from the pitcher, his gaze swinging to Lucas. Tyne knew exactly what had taken her son aback. If Lucas realized what he’d done, he didn’t show it. He was frantically pointing at the pitcher, an appeal for Zach to keep his head in the game.
This time, Zach swung the bat with perfect timing, his front foot firmly nailed to the ground. A satisfying smack resounded. He dropped the bat and raced toward first base. The crowd cheered and Tyne jumped up and down until her son safely reached the base.
“Jeez,” she muttered to Lucas. “This anxiety is enough to give me ulcers.”
“Tell me about it.” Lucas grinned and shook his head. “The way he kept looking at me rather than the pitcher, I was afraid he was going to give them an easy out.”
“He was startled.” When Lucas still didn’t seem to understand, she explained, “You called him son.”
He frowned, then his brows arched. “I did, didn’t I? You don’t think I upset him, do you?”
“Don’t worry.” She reached out and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. “I think he’s been waiting for it, actually.”
The next batter hit a fly pop, and Lucas shouted for Zach to wait. The outfielder missed the catch, and Lucas and everyone else yelled for Zach to run. Tyne’s heart pounded and she let out a breath when both runners safely made it to their bases.
“Lucas, Jasper wants to take Zach camping. I told him it would be okay.” She looked at him, took in the curve of his ear, the corded muscles of his neck. “He said something about helping him become a man. Do you, um—” she slid off h
er sunglasses and squinted up at him “—do you think it’s okay that Zach goes?”
For an instant, she regretted the question. She slipped her sunglasses back onto her face and turned her gaze back to the ball field. Asking anyone’s opinion about anything when it came to Zach felt foreign to her. She made all the decisions herself, had done so for fifteen long years. What would she do or say if he disagreed with her?
Luckily, though, he grinned.
“I think it’s great. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. There’s definitely no need for an anger management counselor when we have a Lenape elder around.” He chuckled. “Uncle Jasper and I went hunting for my manhood many times before we found it.” Memories had his mouth twisting wryly. “Trouble is, no one told me what we were hunting. The hardest part for Zach is going to be figuring that out. And he might not, the first time out.”
Tyne watched as the batter bunted and ran toward first. Zach advanced to third, but the batter was tagged out by the first baseman.
She wanted to ask if she should be worried, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she murmured, “He’s never been camping.”
Lucas turned to face her then, and ever so gently he reached up and slid her sunglasses down her nose just enough so that he could look directly into her eyes. “Zach’ll be perfectly safe.” He paused a heartbeat before adding, “But he won’t come home the same person.”
The mild alarm that shot through her must have registered on her face, if only for an instant, because he placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. It’ll be a good thing, Tyne. You’ll see.” He turned back to the game, leaning his forearms on the top of the fence. “Jasper will work him hard, and talk to him a lot. There will be a lot of stories. Fables or parables, I guess you’d call them. Cryptic tales that are often difficult to understand but always have a lesson attached. Stories meant to make him think. This won’t be like any other experience Zach has had, I’m sure.”
She pushed her sunglasses back into place and settled next to him, resting her forearms on the fence too. They watched as the next batter struck out and the teams switched positions on the ball field again. Her son kicked the dirt, miffed that he wasn’t given the opportunity to score.
“First off,” Lucas said softly, “Jasper will have Zach collect enough dry, dead wood to feed a fire for a month. Then my uncle will have him cut it into uniform size. Zach will swing an ax until his biceps quiver. Then when it’s time to cook dinner, Jasper will realize he’s forgotten the matches at home. So Zach will spend an hour trying to light kindling with flint and steel. Have you ever done that?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “When Zach is so frustrated he’s about to scream, Jasper will conveniently remember he has a piece of charred cloth in the tinder box, and they’ll start a fire like magic. Making charred cloth is a lesson he’ll learn another day.” Lucas toed a clump of weeds at the foot of the fence.
“Zach will eat the trout he’s caught and cleaned and cooked on a fire he started himself, and he’ll fall asleep feeling proud as hell that he did it all on his own. Jasper has a real knack for making a boy feel as if he’s accomplished something great. And Zach will sleep like a baby because he’ll be more exhausted than he’s ever been in his life.” Lucas chuckled. “And he’ll never realize he’s been played like a tune by his great uncle.”
They were so close, the sleeve of Lucas’s shirt tickled Tyne’s bare shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve been played.” She grinned.
He nodded. “Like one of those soulful country songs.” The soft laughter they shared ended with a warm smile.
They watched the game for a few minutes, then Tyne smoothed her fingertips over the cool metal fencepost. “What have you decided? About your mother?”
He’d confided all that Jasper had told him about Ruth Yoder. She’d been astonished to learn that his mother hadn’t died as he’d remembered being told.
“I don’t know,” he said, heaving a sigh. “I’ve thought about little else. I feel like I don’t have a choice, really. I have to at least try to find her.” He turned his head to look at her. “Don’t I?”
She was quiet a moment. Then she reached up and took off her sunglasses, folding the arms with slow deliberation.
“If you don’t,” she quietly told him, “I’m afraid you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. I know I would.”
He didn’t say a word, only searched her face.
Tyne moistened her lips. “I’ll help you find her, Lucas. We can do it. Together.”
His mouth curled into the smallest of smiles and his eyes glittered in the bright sunlight. He reached over and captured her fingers in his, and something hitched in her chest. The pulse point of his wrist pressed firmly against her skin, and she felt his heartbeat, quick, and hot.
The ball field was packed with spectators, but for the span of a few seconds the sounds of shouting, cheering, and applause faded, and Tyne felt as if she and Lucas were all alone under the beautiful blue sky, a halo of golden sunshine enveloping them.
She closed her eyes, sucked in a slow, deep breath. Rob’s face appeared before her in her mind’s eye, startling her with such force that she actually jerked. Awkwardly, she tugged her hand from Lucas’s, slid her sunglasses onto her face and focused on the baseball game.
CHAPTER TEN
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” The man adjusted the flat-brimmed straw hat on his head.
Tyne and Lucas stood at the door of Jacob Yoder’s barn. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the Jacob Yoder they were searching for.
“I appreciate your taking the time to talk to us,” Lucas told him.
Mr. Yoder hooked a thumb behind his black suspender. “Happy to. If you don’t mind my saying, you’ve got your work cut out for you. There are over twenty-five different Amish, Mennonite, and Brethren church groups in this county alone. And all of them probably have a Bishop or two named Yoder.”
Lucas grimaced. “Tell me about it. We’ve spent the whole morning going from farm to farm.” He released a weary exhale. “To farm. Feels like I’m on a wild goose chase.”
“There are over ninety Yoders listed in the phone book,” Tyne said. “And those are only Lancaster addresses. We haven’t even looked in Millersville or Oak Mills or Mountville or East or West Hempfield.” Seems they’d set themselves up to tackle the impossible.
She and Lucas had stopped for lunch after spending hours talking to dozens of people, each and every one offering up suggestions on where to find a Bishop Yoder who had a daughter named Ruth. The list of possibilities was growing long.
Jacob Yoder tugged on his beard. “Many churches don’t allow phones.”
Tyne’s mind reeled at the thought of trying to find Lucas’s mother in what now seemed a sea of black hats and white bonnets.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about the man you’re hoping to find?” Jacob tucked his hands into the pockets of his black trousers. “I really would like to help you.”
That’s one thing that had impressed Tyne; none of the Plain People had turned them away. Not a single person had been unfriendly. Everyone they had approached today had been willing to listen and had tried to help even if it had been in some small way.
Lucas’s posture was loose, his dark eyes glum. “I know that the Bishop Yoder I’m looking for drove a horse and buggy to Wikweko to buy horse liniment. He even tried to buy the recipe so he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone outside his own community. But apparently the recipe wasn’t for sale, so he was forced to do business in Wikweko.”
“Horse liniment,” Jacob murmured.
Lucas nodded, and Tyne watched him hesitate.
Finally, Lucas said, “He brought his daughter along with him. Ruth Yoder had a baby.” His Adam’s apple dipped. “Out of wedlock.”
The Amish man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know anything about a baby. But there was a man who used to sell liniment. Years ago, mind you. South of Millersville. Near Sl
ackwater. And I believe his name was Yoder.” Jacob shook his head. “I couldn’t say if he had a daughter. But the church down there follows the strictest Ordnung. A system of rules for, um, how to live your life. They’re Old Order down there. That might be the Bishop Yoder you’re looking for.”
Hope had a way of stomping out frustration and fatigue; it also sparked a sizzling anticipation in both Lucas and Tyne. Their gazes met, and they shared a wide smile filled with renewed energy. Lucas pumped Jacob’s hand with hearty appreciation, and after listening to some general directions, they headed back to Lucas’s car.
Over two hours later, Lucas’s hope hadn’t diminished. They were both tired, yes, but they’d finally—finally—found someone who actually knew ‘Old Bishop Yoder’ who’d once sold horse liniment and who had a daughter named Ruth. The people of The Old Order Amish were less inclined to associate with outsiders, the men refused to even look at Tyne, so Lucas had had difficulty obtaining the information. However, he’d prevailed by asking his questions politely but persistently—very persistently—and now they actually had a specific address in hand.
Tyne looked out the car window at the lush, green trees flanking the narrow country road.
“You know,” she said, “I’ve been so focused today that I haven’t thought about Zach. I wonder what he’s doing.”
Lucas glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “He’s probably cleaning the fish they caught. Or stacking the firewood he collected.” He grinned. “Or sitting in a hole trying to figure out how to get out.”
“What?” She couldn’t tell if he was serious or if he was teasing her. “What are you talking about?”
“Uncle Jasper put me in a hole once.”
Tyne couldn’t believe her ears. “Lucas. Come on. Don’t tease me.”
“I’m serious.” He lifted one hand off the steering wheel. “First, he made me dig the hole. I spent a whole day with a shovel in my hands. ‘Deeper,’ he kept saying. ‘Deeper.’ And he made me go to sleep next to it that night not knowing what the danged thing was for. ‘That is for tomorrow,’ was all he’d tell me before sliding into his sleeping bag.”
