by Jo Ann Brown
The boy shook his head, his expression grim. “I did once, and I got the switch out behind the well house. I learned when Onkel Titus says something he means it.”
Nathaniel glanced at her over the boy’s head, and she saw his closely reined-in anger. A kind must learn to heed his elders, but that could be done gently. The idea of Titus striking Jacob for simply moving one of dozens of cardboard boxes set her teeth on edge, as well.
“Wait here.” Jacob rushed from the room.
“No kind should live as he has here,” Nathaniel said.
She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “We need to contact Reuben.”
“The bishop—” He halted himself as Jacob sprinted into the room.
The boy tossed some cloth grocery bags on the bed. “We can use these. Onkel Titus says they’re worthless. He’ll be glad to get them out of his house.”
“Gut.” Esther kept her voice light. “Are your clothes in this dresser?”
“Ja.”
“Pick out things other than clothes you want to bring and put them on the bed. Nathaniel and you can take them to the buggy.” She counted. There were ten bags. “These should be enough to hold your things.”
The boy faltered. “How long is Onkel Titus going to be in the hospital?”
Esther knew she must not hesitate. She didn’t want to cause the boy more worry. “He has to stay there until the doktors tell him he can come home. I know you want him home right away, but it’s better that the doktors are thorough so they know everything about your onkel’s health.”
Jacob pondered that for several minutes, then nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Don’t forget your school supplies,” she added.
“School?” He looked at Nathaniel. “I thought I didn’t have to go to school while I was at your house.”
“All kinder must go to school.” Nathaniel grinned. “Nice try, though.”
“When do I have to go back?”
“Monday will be early enough,” Esther answered.
Jacob frowned, then began to gather his belongings. For the next ten minutes they worked in silent unison. Jacob set a few books, a baseball and his church Sunday black hat on the bed. Nathaniel put them into bags, making sure nothing was crushed. Esther packed Jacob’s work boots and his best pair of shoes into another bag before turning to the dresser.
Like everything else in the room, the drawers were neat. Too neat for an eight-year-old boy.
When she mentioned that to Nathaniel while Jacob was carrying the first bags of clothing downstairs, he said, “Maybe it’s his defense against the mess in the rest of the house. I’m glad we’re getting him out of here.” He picked up the last two cloth bags.
“Has he said anything about going to visit his onkel?”
“No.”
“You’ll let me know if he says something about going to the hospital, won’t you?”
“Ja.” He gave her a faint smile. “I’m sure he’ll ask once he’s less fascinated with the alpacas.” Before she could add anything else, he asked, “Don’t you think it’s odd Titus wants to get rid of perfectly gut bags when he’s stockpiling ripped and torn plastic ones?”
“Everything about him seems to be odder than anyone knows.” She walked toward the door. “If I had to guess, I’d say Titus doesn’t like cloth bags because you can’t see through them. The plastic ones let him keep an eye on his possessions.”
“How can he—or anyone else—see into the bags at the bottom of a pile?”
“You’re being logical, Nathaniel. I don’t think logic visits this house very often.”
He led the way down the cramped stairs. When a board creaked threateningly beneath her foot, he turned and grasped her by the waist. He swung her down onto the step beside him. Her skirt brushed against the junk on the stairs. An avalanche tumbled loudly down the stairs and ricocheted off stacks on the ground floor. Things cascaded in every direction.
The noise couldn’t conceal the sharp snap of the tread where she’d been standing. It broke and fell into the open space under the stairs.
Nathaniel’s arm curved around her, pulling her away from the gap. Her breath burst out of her, and she had trouble drawing another one while she stood so near to him. When she did, it was flavored with the enticing scents of soap and sunshine from his shirt. With her head on his chest, she could hear the rapid beat of his heart. She put her hand on his arm to make sure her wobbly knees didn’t collapse beneath her like the boxes and bags. His pulse jumped at her touch, and his arm around her waist tightened, keeping her close, exactly where her heart wanted her to be.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, his breath swirling along her neck in a gentle caress.
More than okay. She bit back the words before they could seep past her lips. At the same time, she eased away from him. Glancing at the hole in the staircase, she rushed the rest of the way down the stairs, past half-open bags spilling their reeking contents onto the steps.
She couldn’t stay there with him. She’d been a fool to linger and let her heart overrule her head. Hadn’t she learned that was stupid? Every time she gave in to her heart’s yearnings for something it wanted—whether it was to let a much younger Nathaniel know how much he meant to her or to chase adventure with Alvin Lee—she’d ended up humiliated and hurt.
Esther hurried through the barely passable room, not slowing when Nathaniel called after her to make sure she wasn’t hurt. She was, but not in the way he meant. It hurt to realize she still couldn’t trust her heart.
Nitwit! Nitwit! Nitwit!
The accusation followed her, sounding on every step, as she found her way out of the horrible house. Fresh air struck her, and she drew in a deep, satisfying breath. Maybe it would clear her mind as well as her lungs.
Seeing Jacob trying to close the rear of the buggy, Esther went to help him. It took the two of them shoving down the panel to shut it after he’d squeezed the bags in there.
“All set,” she said with a strained smile.
“If you say so...” His voice was taut, and she shoved her problems aside. “I don’t think I need all that.”
“If you’re worried about Nathaniel making room for your things at his house, don’t be.”
Jacob surprised her by giving her a saucy grin. “I guess you’ve never been inside the house.”
“I was years ago when I was about your age.”
“That’s a long time ago.”
She smiled when she realized she was talking about a time before he was born. “Quite a long time ago. His grossmammi liked to quilt, so there were always partially finished projects in the living room.”
“Not any longer. There wouldn’t be room for a quilt!” He started to add more, then halted when Nathaniel pushed his way out of the house and gave the pair of bags to Jacob.
“These are the last of your clothes,” he said. “You may have to hold them on your lap because I’m sure the storage area behind the seat is full.”
“Let me check to see. I think I can fit these in there.”
“Make sure the rear door closes. I don’t want a trail of your things from here to Esther’s house.”
The boy smiled and opened the back. Bags started to spill out, but he shoved them back inside. Tossing the other two on top, he managed to close the door again.
Jacob chattered steadily on the way to the Stoltzfus farm. That allowed Esther to avoid saying anything. Nathaniel was, she noticed, as quiet, though he replied when Jacob posed a question to him. Unlike the swift ride to Titus Fisher’s house, the one back seemed too long.
As soon as the buggy stopped in front of the white barn, Esther jumped out. She was surprised when Nathaniel did, too. He told Jacob to wait while he hooked up the mules before Jacob drove the buggy to his farm. She’d assumed Nathanie
l would tie the horse and buggy to the rear of his wagon.
“He’ll be fine,” Nathaniel said, and she knew her thoughts were on her face. “I’ve had him show me how he drives, and he’s better than kids twice his age. From what he’s told me, he’s been driving his onkel to appointments with doktors and on other errands for the past six months or more.”
She hesitated, then went with him into the barn. “Are you sure? I could drive him.”
“Then we’ll need to get you back here, and chores won’t wait.” He smiled. “I’ll be right behind him, so he won’t get any idea about racing my buggy. Not that he’s foolish! The boy has a gut head on his shoulders.”
His words silenced her. She’d thought she had a gut head on her shoulders, too, but she’d let herself get caught up in racing buggies on deserted roads late at night.
Nathaniel must have taken her silence for agreement because he went to the stall where the mules watched them.
As he led Gal out to the wagon, Esther asked, “Have you noticed Jacob never calls Titus’s house his home? Only his onkel’s?”
“Now that you mention it, I have noticed that. I wonder why.”
“He lost one home and one family.” She watched Nathaniel put the patient mule into place, checking each strap and buckle to make sure it was right.
Straightening, he said, “Maybe he’s afraid of losing another.”
“That’s sad. No kind should have to worry about such things.”
“No kind should, but many don’t have the happy and comfortable childhood you did, Esther.” His mouth grew taut, and she got the feeling he’d said something he hadn’t intended to.
“But he seems happier and less weighted down since you’ve taken him under your wing.”
“Jacob has had too much sorrow and responsibility.” Picking up the reins, he put his hand on the wagon’s seat. “Danki for your help today, Esther. Let me know what Reuben says.”
“I will.” She drew in a deep breath, then said something she needed to say. Something that would be for the best for Nathaniel and for her. Something to prevent any misunderstandings between them. The words were bitter on her tongue, but she hurried to say, “I’m glad you’re my friend. You’ve been my friend since we were kinder, and I hope you’ll be my friend for the rest of our lives.” She put her hand out and clasped his. Giving it a squeeze, she started to release it and turn away.
His fingers closed over hers, keeping her where she stood. She looked at him, astonished. Her shock became uncertainty when she saw the intensity in his gaze. Slowly, he brought her one step, then another toward him until they stood no more than a hand’s breadth apart. She couldn’t look away from his eyes. She longed to discover what he was thinking.
Suddenly she stiffened. What was she thinking? Hadn’t she decided she needed to make sure he knew friendship was all they should share? She drew her arm away, and after a moment’s hesitation he lifted his fingers from hers. At the same moment his eyes shuttered.
“Ja,” he said, his voice sounding as if he were waking from a dream. Or maybe her ears made it sound that way because the moment when they’d stood face-to-face had been like something out of time.
“Ja?” Had she missed something else he’d said?
“I mean, I’m glad, too. We’re always going to be friends.” Now he was avoiding her eyes. “It’s for the best.”
“For us and for Jacob.”
“Of course, for Jacob, too.” A cool smile settled on his lips. “That’s what I meant.”
“I know.” She took another step away. She couldn’t remember ever being less than honest with Nathaniel before.
But it was for his own gut.
Right?
That’s right, God, isn’t it? She had to believe that, but she hadn’t guessed facing the truth would be so painful.
* * *
“What a sad way for a kind to live!” Mamm clicked her tongue in dismay as she set her cup of tea on a section of the kitchen table where Esther wasn’t working. “I don’t know why none of us wondered about the state of the house before. An old bachelor and a young boy. Neither of them knows a lick about keeping a house.”
Esther raised her eyes from where she was kneading dough for cinnamon rolls for tomorrow’s breakfast. She’d added a cup of raisins to the treat she hadn’t made for the family since spring. Now she chased the raisins across the table when they popped out as she folded the dough over and pressed it down. Dusting her hands with more flour so they didn’t get stickier, she continued working the dough.
“Jacob never gave us any reason to think his onkel wasn’t taking gut care of him.” She beat the dough harder. “He comes to school in clean clothes, and he never smells as if he’s skipped a bath.”
“Don’t take out your frustration on that poor dough.” Mamm chuckled. “Don’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. None of us did, but now you have the responsibility of letting Reuben know.”
“I plan to speak to Reuben. I’ll go over once I get the bread finished.” She was certain the bishop would know a way to help Jacob and his onkel without making either of them feel ashamed. She was as sure the Leit, the members of their district, would offer their help.
But where? At Titus’s house or Nathaniel’s? Jacob had mentioned in passing that the Zook farmhouse was as cluttered as his onkel’s. She was astonished. When she’d visited Nathaniel’s grandparents during her childhood, the house had been pristine. In fact, he’d joked that no dust mote ever entered because it would die of loneliness. Sometime between then and now, the condition of the house had changed.
“Going to talk to Reuben is a gut idea,” Mamm said, “but I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“What?” Esther looked up quickly and flour exploded from the table in a white cloud. Waving it away, she said, “Mamm, we need to do something. Nobody should be living in there.” Or at Nathaniel’s if it is also in such a sorry state.
“You don’t need to visit Reuben, because he just pulled into the dooryard.”
“Oh.” Esther punched the dough a couple more times and then dropped it into the greased bowl she had ready. Putting a towel over it, she opened the oven she’d set to preheat at its lowest temperature. A shallow pan of water sat on the bottom rack, so the dough would stay moist in the gas oven. She put the bowl with the bread dough on the upper rack, checked the kitchen clock and closed the door. The dough needed to rise for an hour.
She began to wash the flour off her hands as her mamm went to the back door.
“Reuben, komm in,” Mamm said. “We were talking about Esther paying you a call later today.”
The bishop entered and took off the black wool hat he wore when he was on official business. He hung it on one of the empty pegs near Mamm’s bonnet. His gray eyebrows matched his hair and were as bushy as his long beard. He wasn’t wearing the black coat he used on church Sunday. Instead he was dressed in his everyday work clothes, patched from where he’d snagged them while working on his farm.
“A cup of kaffi?” Esther asked as she took another cup from the cupboard. Everyone in the district knew the bishop’s weakness for strong kaffi.
“Ja,” he said in his deep voice. “That sounds gut.”
She filled a cup for him from the pot on top of the stove. She set it in front of where he sat at the kitchen table where the top was clean. Taking her mamm’s cup, she poured more hot water into it before placing it on the table, as well. She arranged a selection of cookies on a plate for Reuben, who had a sweet tooth.
“Pull up a chair, Esther,” Reuben said with a smile. When she did, he said, “Tell me how the boy is doing.”
“He seems as happy as he can be under the circumstances.” She was amazed she could add with a genuine smile, “Jacob has fallen in love with the alpacas at Nathaniel Zook’s farm, and they’re pr
etty much all he thinks about.”
“He needs to return to school.”
“Ja. He’ll be back on Monday. I wanted to give him a bit of time to become accustomed to the changes in his life. That also gives me time to work with the other scholars so they understand they need to treat him with extra kindness.”
The bishop nodded. “An excellent plan. So tell me what you want to talk to me about.”
“When we took Jacob to his onkel’s house, Nathaniel and I were disturbed by what we saw there.” Esther quickly explained the piles of papers and boxes and everything anyone could collect. She told him about the narrow walkways through the rooms, even the bathroom. “The only place not filled to overflowing is Jacob’s bedroom.”
Reuben sighed and clasped his fingers around his cup. Letting the steam wash his face, he said, “I shouldn’t be surprised. Titus is a gut man, but he’s never been able to part with a single thing. I understand his daed was much the same, so the hoarding is not all his doing. Danki, Esther, for caring enough about the Fishers to want to help them. However, I’m not sure if we should do anything until we know what’s going to happen with Titus. If it’s God’s will that he comes home, having his house cleaned out will upset him too much.”
“How is he?” Mamm asked.
The bishop’s face seemed to grow longer. “The doktors aren’t optimistic. At this point, they can’t be sure what his condition will be if he comes out of his coma. One told me he hadn’t expected Titus to last through the first night, but he’s breathing on his own and his heart remains strong. Is there anything of the man himself left? Nobody can know unless he awakens.”
“Jacob will want to know how his onkel is doing,” Esther said.
“Having the boy visit the hospital now might not be a gut idea. I’d rather wait until there’s some change in Titus’s condition before we inflict the sight of his onkel, small and ill in a hospital bed, on the boy.”
“Can I tell him nothing’s changed?”
“Ja.” He took a deep sip of his kaffi. “I don’t like not telling Jacob the whole truth, but having him worry won’t help.”
