The Forgiven

by Marta Perry

  “Barbie is having fun playing with the kinder, ain’t so?” Grossmammi nodded toward the backyard, where Barbie was engaged in a vigorous game of kickball with Josh and Katie.

  “Sometimes I think she’s not much older than they are,” Rebecca said, smiling. She reached across to touch her grandmother’s hand. “You are doing better since you moved in with Mamm and Daadi, I think.”

  Her grandmother’s hand turned to clasp Rebecca’s, still warm and confident despite the apparent fragility of the blue veins standing out over fine old bones.

  Grossmammi nodded, her expression rueful. “Your mamm was right all along, much as I argued. It was too much for me, keeping up the old house. Worrying about all the family things I’d saved.”

  “All of those things are going to people who will care for them,” Rebecca said. Did her grandmother still worry about those family pieces? She’d already given many of them away, and the rest were safely stored in Rebecca’s attic.

  “They are going to people who need them,” Grossmammi corrected. “Like you, ain’t so?”

  The question startled her. “I . . . I don’t know. I’ve been touched by Anna’s story, for sure.”

  Touched, yes. Sometimes she’d been startled, even shocked, by how much she identified with what Anna had gone through. But need? She wasn’t sure she wanted to look too closely at that idea.

  “I knew you would be. Just open yourself to what you have to learn from others, Rebecca. At this end of my life, I see how important that is.” Grossmammi smiled. “I am content.”

  Grossmammi almost sounded as if she were preparing to pass on. Rebecca was shaken by her reaction. She wasn’t ready to get along without Grossmammi, not yet.

  “You’re doing so much better now,” Rebecca said, determined to show her conviction that her grandmother would be with them for years to come.

  “I’m even working in my herb garden a bit. You should see how fast the mint is growing, despite my sinking the pots to keep it from spreading too much.”

  Guilt flared. “I’m sorry I haven’t been over to help you with the herbs this week.”

  “Ach, it’s all right. You have plenty to do with the business.” Grossmammi patted her hand. “I’m getting along fine. You must take care of your own work.”

  “I guess so.” She couldn’t hide the clouding of her expression from someone who knew her as well as Grossmammi did. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking it might be time to give up on the farm-stay. But don’t say anything,” she added quickly. “I haven’t told Barbie yet.”

  Grossmammi’s eyes widened. “Why would you close? I thought it was going well. Isn’t Barbie enough help?”

  “Barbie is wonderful gut at it.” Rebecca looked down at her tea, not wanting to meet her grandmother’s keen gaze. “I’m the one who isn’t. I just can’t manage the farm-stay on my own.”

  Grossmammi set her cup down with a decided thump. “And who says you have to?”

  “No one. But even with Simon and Barbie helping, I need to be the one in charge. Paul could have done it single-handed, but I can’t.”

  “He could not.” Grossmammi’s voice was tart, forcing Rebecca to look at her. “Rebecca, you are acting as if all the things you did were of no importance. Paul had the dreams, ja, but it was always your common sense that made them into reality.”

  “No, I—”

  “Ja, you.” Grossmammi looked at her sternly. “I don’t like to hear you denying your own gifts, Rebecca. The gut Lord gave them to you to be used. And Barbie needs the chance to use her gifts, as well. And Simon.”

  Rebecca stared at her grandmother, trying to find a response, when Barbie and the kinder burst into the room, all talking at once and seeming like far more than one adult and two children.

  “Mammi, you’ll never guess . . .” Katie said.

  “Let Cousin Barbie tell her,” Josh declared. “It’s not your news.”

  “Enough, you two.” Barbie silenced them with a hand on each of them. Her eyes were dancing. “But Katie is right. You’ll never guess.”

  “Then I won’t try,” Rebecca said. “What’s happened to make you all so excited?”

  Is Matt back? The thought slid into her mind and was quickly dismissed. They’d have no reason to find his return so exciting.

  “We heard the phone ringing in the shanty, so Katie ran and grabbed it,” Barbie said.

  “And it was someone asking about the farm-stay, so I said they should talk to Cousin Barbie,” Katie added.

  “The woman had heard about us from one of the couples who was here last week. Apparently they must have enjoyed their stay more than we thought. Anyway, this woman wants to bring her whole family for a visit—eight of them. And she didn’t even hesitate when I told her the cost. Think of it—eight people for three nights.”

  “Barbie—” How to find the words for what she’d been thinking of telling her?

  “So I said yes, and they’re coming tomorrow!” Barbie finished triumphantly. “Isn’t that great?”

  “Tomorrow?” Rebecca’s stomach gave a nervous lurch. “Barbie, you should have asked me first.”

  “Why?” A shade of defiance came into Barbie’s face. “We’re running a business, aren’t we?”

  The words hovered on the tip of Rebecca’s tongue. The words that would end the business for good.

  But they were all looking at her, all expecting something from her—Grossmammi, her wise old eyes weighing Rebecca’s decision. Barbie, torn between hope and disappointment. Her children, and the future she wanted for them.

  Maybe, as Matt had said, this wasn’t her dream, but if she wanted it, she could do it. She had a new life to make for herself and her children, and it was time she stopped looking backward to what had been and faced the future.

  She looked at them, and slowly she began to smile. “Well, what are we waiting for? If we’re having a houseful of guests tomorrow, we’d best get busy.”

  • • •

  Matt had breakfast with Joe Davis at the motel, and they were headed out toward the Zimmer place by nine the next morning. Matt still hadn’t figured out just what he was going to say to Isaiah—always assuming he actually got to see his cousin. Maybe he’d be better off leaving the words to the good Lord and trusting in His guidance.

  He glanced at Joe, who had been uncharacteristically silent so far. At the moment, he was frowning at the road ahead of them.

  “Joe? What’s wrong?”

  Joe shot him a startled look that turned to a reluctant smile. “Guess it shows, huh? I was trying to decide how to tell you something.”

  Just as he had been trying to decide what to say to Isaiah. “Just say it, whatever it is. Do you need to go home?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Well, like you say, I’d better just spit it out. You know that tavern that’s next to the motel?”

  Matt nodded, mystified. “I noticed it.”

  “Well, I stopped over there last night before I turned in. To have a beer, but I figured maybe I could pick up something helpful about this Zimmer guy.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Matt to involve Joe in his search, and maybe it should have. “That was good of you. Did you find out anything?”

  The frown was back, and Matt had a sense that he wasn’t going to like what Joe had learned.

  “Well, I got to talking to one of the locals. I mentioned Zimmer, and it was like I’d put a match to straw. He flared up right away, talking about how Zimmer was bringing all these troublemakers to the area. Kids who couldn’t get along at home, so he said, so they’d come out here to make trouble.” Joe paused. “About that time another guy chipped in. He said the Amish kids weren’t so bad. Some of the ones Zimmer helped were really trying to adjust, getting jobs, working hard, that sort of thing. So the first guy, he snorts, says he’s talking about the ones who spend all t
heir time drinking and starting fights.”

  Joe came to an abrupt halt, but Matt knew there was more.

  “What else? You asked about Isaiah, didn’t you?”

  Joe nodded, looking embarrassed. “It turns out his name was familiar to them. This guy I was talking to had had a run-in with Isaiah and a couple of his buddies a day or two ago. He said a lot of folks have been complaining to the police, and there’s word around that the cops are going to crack down on them.”

  “The police.” Matt’s very soul winced. This was worse than he’d thought. It was what had happened to him. Was Isaiah destined to follow every bad mistake he’d ever made?

  Joe gave Matt an apologetic look. “Sorry, but I figured you should know what was going on. It seems like Isaiah’s got himself mixed up with a bad crowd. And he was always such a fine young man, too.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what gets into kids sometimes.”

  No more did Matt, and he was a living example. “Thanks, Joe. It’s better to know the worst going in.”

  “It makes it harder for you, I’m afraid.” Joe seemed to relax now that he had turned the burden over to Matt.

  Matt nodded. Harder, and even more important. Isaiah seemed determined to make every mistake in the book, just as he had done. The difficulty was to stop him before his young cousin did something irrevocable.

  He felt a moment of despair. Would anyone have been able to stop him, when he’d vowed to live life his own way no matter how much it hurt himself and others?

  They’d reached the house, and Joe pulled up into the driveway. The place looked as deserted as it had the previous day, but someone had been here then. Maybe, very soon, he’d see Isaiah and face the truth. Tension gnawing at his nerves, Matt slid out of the car.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Joe asked, leaning across the front seat.

  “Thanks, Joe. But I think I’d better handle this on my own.” The offer was kind of the man, but Matt didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of Joe when he was confronting a possibly angry Isaiah.

  “Good luck.” Joe’s pleasant face crinkled with worry. “You shout if you need me.”

  Matt nodded, raising his hand in acknowledgment. He headed for the back of the house, where he’d found Zimmer yesterday. If anyone was here, that was likely to be where he’d find them.

  No one was outside when he rounded the house, but when he approached the door it opened. Three men came out, jostling one another as if each was trying to be first. The one in the lead was Isaiah.

  But not an Isaiah Matt could have easily recognized. His light hair straggled nearly to his shoulders, and it looked as if he’d neglected to wash it lately. A stubble of beard seemed to proclaim a desire to look tough, but the hair was so light it probably failed to deliver. Isaiah wore frayed denim jeans and a black T-shirt that looked a size too big for him, and a beer can dangled from one hand.

  The other two were carbon copies of Isaiah. Or maybe it would be more correct to say that he was copying them. They both looked older, tougher, and meaner than Isaiah ever could.

  Matt focused on his cousin, ignoring the other two. “I’m sehr glad to see you, Isaiah. It’s been a long time.”

  Too long, obviously. If Matt had been around, he might have headed off Isaiah’s rebellion before it turned to grief.

  “Fred Zimmer told me you were here.” Isaiah’s young face was hard, rejecting him. “You come to take me home?”

  “I’d like to.” But what were the odds he could get through to this older version of the youthful cousin who’d once idolized him?

  Isaiah acted as if he found that hilarious, and the other two joined him, laughing and poking each other in the ribs. Matt stood, stoic, waiting for them to finish.

  “Come home?” Isaiah jeered. “What would I go back there for? So I can be a dumb Dutchman all my life?”

  “No. So you can be with your family. So you can have a gut, useful life.” Probably the only way he could ever reach Isaiah was to stay calm and answer his jeering comments as if they were really questions that deserved consideration.

  “Hear that, Ike?” The older of his two buddies punched Isaiah’s arm. “He wants you to be useful.”

  Matt felt the underlying menace coming from the other two, and found himself wishing Zimmer were here. He’d at least seemed mature and well-intentioned, no matter what his attitude was.

  “I’ve got the life I want now,” Isaiah said. “You can just take off again. There’s nothing for you here.”

  “Yeah, not unless you’re ready to break free, too,” his buddy added.

  Matt ignored him, looking into Isaiah’s eyes. “What about your family?”

  A trace of uneasiness passed over his cousin’s face. “Tell them I’m fine.”

  “It’s going to be hard to do that when you don’t look fine to me. From what I’ve heard, it seems like you’ve been getting into trouble.”

  “What do you mean, trouble? Nobody’s got anything on us.”

  The older guy flared up instantly, and Matt recognized the hair-trigger temper that had him itching for a fight. He’d seen it too often in the bad old days to mistake it.

  “Isaiah, look.” He reached out to put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, feeling bone and muscle. “Your mamm’s getting worse all the time. All she does is cry since you left.”

  Isaiah pressed his lips together. “I couldn’t do anything for her.” It was a feeble protest, and they both knew it. “Sadie’s better at—”

  “Sadie tries to help, but how can she comfort her? It’s you she wants. And your daad’s lost heart for the business without you. I’m trying to help him keep it together, but it’s you he needs, not me.”

  Isaiah’s hard expression cracked, showing the boy underneath. “Mammi . . .”

  “Don’t listen to him.” The older man gave Isaiah a buffet on the shoulder that made him stagger. “Can’t you see he’s just trying to guilt you into going home? It’s probably not half as bad as he’s saying.”

  “Yeah,” the other one echoed, his hands clenching and unclenching, his eyes dark and staring.

  Matt balanced on the balls of his feet, muscles tightening. If this turned into a physical confrontation . . . No. He couldn’t let it.

  “This is between me and my cousin.” He kept his tone even with an effort. “I think he knows I’m telling him the truth.” He focused on Isaiah’s face, staying aware of the other two in the periphery of his vision. “Isaiah, stop and think before it’s too late. From what I’ve been told, people around here are tired of dealing with you. The police have been called in. You keep on the way you’re going, and you’ll end up in jail.”

  Isaiah managed a sneer for that idea. “So what? You’re trying to scare me, but it’s not working. I’m not afraid of a little jail time.”

  “You should be.” Memories assailed him.

  “You don’t know anything about it.” But Isaiah’s voice had lost some of its bravado.

  Matt looked into his eyes, knowing what he had to say. “I know too much about it. I’ve been just as dumb as you in my time, and I ended up spending six months behind bars. Believe me, it’s not something you walk away from easily.”

  Isaiah’s face was shocked. Open, the way it used to be.

  Matt grasped Isaiah’s arm. “Listen to me. Komm home. Now, before it’s too late.”

  Matt was intent on his cousin’s face, longing to see understanding—and then the blow, coming from nowhere; he’d forgotten to keep his eye on the other man. Matt fell, sprawled on the ground, trying to clear his head, bracing himself for another punch.

  The older man stood over him, fists doubled. “We don’t need your kind around here. Get out before I let you have more than a taste.”

  Matt got slowly to his feet, eyeing the man as he would a rabid dog. A quick glance show
ed him Isaiah—still shocked, looking young and afraid. The third guy stood a step away, fists doubled, face eager. He’d jump in if necessary, Matt decided, but the main adversary was the older man.

  “Go on. Get out.” He tried to emphasize the words with a shove, but Matt ducked it.

  He could take him, he thought. Or at least, give a pretty good accounting for himself.

  But how would that show Isaiah that the Amish life was right for him, if Matt himself deserted their ways because of a bully?

  “Get out!” The man swung at him again, the blow striking his ear when Matt dodged. It stung, infuriating him.

  His hands automatically doubled into fists, the rage rose in him, he pulled his arm back—

  He saw Isaiah, watching him. Ready to copy him, just as he always had. He saw Rebecca’s face, expecting the best of him.

  The rage died, replaced by a great weariness with the whole idea of settling anything by blows.

  “I won’t fight you.” He wouldn’t run, either. He stood, waiting.

  The bigger man rushed him, the other close behind, and they were both on him, landing blows, and he absorbed them, trying to keep on his feet—

  “Stop it!” Isaiah rushed into the fray, putting his body between Matt and the other two. “Leave him alone.”

  “You siding with him against us?” The bigger man struck, not waiting for an answer, and Isaiah stumbled into Matt.

  Matt grasped him, holding on, not sure how they were going to get out of this, but sure that this time, he was going to be the man he wanted to be.

  A motor roared, and Joe’s vehicle shot past the house, across the lawn, and braked feet away from them. He swung open the door, holding up his cell phone like a banner.

  “I’ve called the cops,” he yelled. “You better back off, before you get in any deeper.”

  For a second the choice hung in the balance. Prudently, Joe got back in the car and locked the door. The older man’s face twitched, the desire to mindlessly strike out obvious. Then he took a step back, fists slowly lowering. He jerked his head toward his buddy.