Joshua stood with one arm propped on the front of her father’s tractor and looked completely at ease. She envied him that. What she would give to feel at home in her own skin. Which sounded so funny in her mind that she actually laughed out loud.
Instead of asking what the joke was, Joshua raised an eyebrow and waited. He didn’t hurry off, which she thought was odd. Maybe he was ahead of schedule the way she was. She hadn’t wanted to be late on her first official day of work, even though she wouldn’t be working in the shop regularly until mid-November.
“So, um, where are you headed so early?”
“Bus station.”
“Oh?” For some reason the thought of Joshua leaving caused her emotions to dip. No doubt his life was much more exciting than hers.
“Headed to McAlester.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Alton’s in trouble again, so they’re sending me to fetch him.”
“Oh.” She realized she’d already said that and worried that she must sound like a simpleton. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No one knows yet. But soon he will be the talk of the community.”
Becca knew what that felt like, or she imagined she knew. Actually, she’d never done anything startling enough to draw much attention, but she used to think that people looked at her and talked about her size. Why was she thinking about that? She was healthy and reasonably happy and her weight was not a topic for discussion with Joshua Kline.
He seemed to be waiting for a response.
“We may have a few gossips, but they’re kindhearted enough. It’s only that they think they can… well, fix everyone’s problems.”
“If you hear of a gut solution, let me know.” Joshua sighed and switched a paper sack from his left hand to his right. She hadn’t even noticed he was carrying one.
“Long trip?” she asked, nodding to the sack.
“Nein. Under two hours. Mamm is always worried I’ll get hungry, though.”
Becca didn’t know what to say to that, so she changed the subject. “I hear we may be getting some rain.”
“From the hurricane in Texas. I heard about that too.”
“I hate to think of what those poor people are going through.”
“Most everyone would have been evacuated. The Englisch are good about such things. The Amish? We might just say that it’s Gotte’s wille and sit in our house until we float away.” Joshua’s grin indicated he was teasing.
Many Amish weren’t able to laugh at their culture and its eccentricities. She was a little surprised to find that Joshua could, but then lots of things about him surprised her—including the fact that he was still standing there talking to her.
“The rain, though, it will be gut for the winter crops if it comes,” he said.
They stood there for another minute, but Joshua seemed to be out of things to say and Becca didn’t dare voice any of the questions running through her mind. Why wasn’t he married? How old was he? And why couldn’t she get him out of her mind? She’d been thinking about him since the day she’d seen him and his brother in the road, but she had tried to attribute it to boredom. Did she have a crush on Joshua Kline? And if she did, what could she do about it? Her shyness usually caused her to want to avoid people.
“Guess I should head toward the bus station. Wouldn’t want to be late.”
“Well, I hope you have a gut trip.”
“And you have a fine day counting things.”
That made her laugh. She’d worried for the last week that the job might be too hard for her, but Joshua had a point. Inventory was basically counting things, and she’d learned to count long ago.
“Danki for the ride.” He tapped the hood of the tractor and started off.
Becca slowly climbed the stairs and waited for someone to open the door. While she waited, she prayed that Joshua would have a safe trip, and that he would find his brother and bring him home without any trouble.
CHAPTER 18
Joshua took a seat at the back of the bus, hoping no one would talk to him. In general he didn’t enjoy chatting with strangers, though he’d had no trouble speaking to Becca Troyer. What had come over him? Usually when he was around a woman, the proverbial cat claimed his tongue. Around Becca, he’d sounded like a woman at a sew-in… chatter, chatter, chatter.
He sank down onto his seat and tipped his hat over his eyes. Perhaps he could catch a nap before he arrived in McAlester. But instead he kept remembering Becca’s laugh and the way she fidgeted with her arms before clasping her purse to her side as if it might fall off her shoulder if she didn’t. She was a pretty woman and should have married long ago, but Joshua knew only too well that some of the men in his community wanted the perfect wife.
Some thought the ideal woman had a small waist and an outgoing personality. And perhaps for some of his friends that was the case. He didn’t know, though.
Take himself, for example. He was rather big and not especially good looking. His chin was not quite right, and his nose was too large. That’s what one girl had told him as she peered up into his eyes. “Joshua Kline, your nose is rather large. And you’re taller than any boy in our class. Are you going to keep growing?”
He hadn’t known how to answer that, so he’d only shrugged. What could he do about the size of his nose or his height? Nothing.
She had giggled and run off to chat with her friends, pausing once to turn and look over her shoulder at him. He had the uncomfortable feeling that they were talking about him, and suddenly he’d wished he could be in the fields working.
That had happened in his last year of school, his eighth year, but he still thought about it occasionally. Alton enjoyed asking a different girl to singing every week and pushing the boundaries of their Ordnung because he could, because he was in his rumpsringa.
Now Joshua was twenty-seven years old, and girls rarely bothered to comment on his size or his nose. He’d become somewhat invisible in their community. A good worker. Someone who could be counted on to help move the church benches or set up the makeshift tables. He supposed folks had assumed he was happy living as a single man, but the truth was that Joshua had no idea how to go about pursuing a girl.
And he knew he wasn’t the perfect catch.
Who was?
He shook his head and tried to scatter the thoughts about girls and marrying and Becca. He should be focusing on his brother and what he would say to him when he reached McAlester.
But he had no idea what to say to Alton. He didn’t quite know how to explain the pain he’d seen in his father’s eyes or the fear in his mother’s. Those were things one either chose to see or chose to ignore. It was possible that a night in an Englisch jail had changed Alton’s perspective, but Joshua doubted it.
Instead of worrying over his brother, he opened the newspaper he had purchased from the stand next to the ticket booth.
Across the top fold of the paper was a picture of Hurricane Orion as seen from space—a giant swirl of white that reminded Joshua of whipped cream on top of coffee, a treat that his oldest sister loved. He grunted at the idea of taking a photograph from space and sending it down to a newsman’s desk. Then he realized the sound was one his father would have made. Beneath the photograph was the heading “Orion Battles Texas Coast.”
Hurricane Orion made land at 11:21 last night as a Category 4 storm. With sustained winds of 140 miles per hour, Texas officials are expecting massive damage to the areas of Corpus Christi, Port Aransas, Mustang Island, Rockport, and Matagorda Island. The eye of the hurricane passed over the area at approximately 2:04 this morning.
Governor Aubrey Benton released the following statement. “Government officials will assess the situation as soon as it’s safe to send personnel into the devastated areas.” When asked if they were receiving any information directly from the affected areas, Benton replied, “Official evacuations began two days ago, and we are confident that everyone who wanted to leave has been relocated farther inland. However, there are always a few in
dividuals who insist on staying. We have received intermittent updates from ham radio operators in the area, indicating that many structures have been destroyed and that there is extensive flooding.”
A spokesman for the National Hurricane Center confirmed that the storm surge was over twenty feet. Widespread power outages continue throughout the area, and officials are working to reestablish cell phone service.
“If anyone is riding this out in the affected areas, God help them.” Justin Sapp, the mayor for Port Aransas, said that they would rebuild. Port A, as it’s known to locals, is the only established town on Mustang Island, with a population of approximately 4,000. “We’ll be in there, as soon as Orion allows us in. Folks can donate to the Red Cross and specify that their funds be directed to Gulf Coast communities affected by Hurricane Orion.”
Orion is already weakening as it passes to the northeast, though the danger of tornadoes spurred by the hurricane may hamper first responder teams. “We will deploy the Texas National Guard as well as Red Cross teams as fast as humanly possible,” Governor Benton promised. “We have a crisis plan for this sort of thing, and rest assured that engineers, fire fighters, and medical personnel have been preparing throughout the night. We’re not on our time clock, though. We’re on Orion’s. Until it’s safe, we wait. In the meantime, I suggest people pray for the safety of anyone who was caught in Orion’s path.”
Joshua set the paper aside and stared out the window as the bus sped south on Highway 69. He thought it unusual that a governor would ask folks to pray, especially in this day and age. But then again, he understood that in times of crisis people often fell back on their faith.
Wasn’t that true for their family as well? He recalled the last words his mother had said, as she handed him his lunch. “Pray for your bruder. Gotte will guide your path, Joshua. He will help you to bring Alton home.”
CHAPTER 19
When Joshua asked the bus driver directions to the McAlester jail, the man didn’t even blink. “Corner of Washington and First.” He pointed to the right, never looking up from his clipboard.
It was a short walk from where the bus dropped him off. He’d finished off the apple, cookies, and sliced cheese his mother had packed, so he tossed the paper sack into a trash bin and walked into the McAlester Police Station.
The building was redbrick, single story. Joshua noticed a flyer for neighborhood watch groups taped to the counter. A woman in police uniform stood behind the desk. She looked to be about Joshua’s age.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Joshua Kline. I’m here to pick up my brother, Alton.”
“If you’ll wait over there, someone will be with you in a minute.” She nodded toward an empty waiting area.
Joshua thanked her and walked over to the area she’d indicated. A television was on but the volume was muted. A coffee table held stacks of old magazines, and a dozen chairs surrounded the perimeter of the room. After two hours on the bus he didn’t feel much like sitting, so he stood instead, studying the activity around the police desk.
An older man was on the telephone.
A couple was filing some sort of report, standing at the counter and consulting one another before writing on the form.
Posters with the heading FBI Most Wanted were pinned to a bulletin board.
Joshua shook his head, trying to clear it. The situation was all too surreal. He was standing in an Englisch jail, waiting to retrieve his younger brother. How had his life come to this?
A door opened and a middle-aged man motioned toward him. “Come on back, Mr. Kline.”
The man was probably in his forties, had neatly trimmed dark hair, and a fatherly look. He took Joshua to a desk, where he began searching through stacks of paperwork. When he’d found what he wanted, he turned his attention to Joshua. “I’m Officer Straley. Thank you for coming down to fetch your brother.”
“Is he all right?” Joshua didn’t realize until that moment that he had been worried about Alton. Mostly he’d spent his time being angry, but under that was the emotion that seemed to color their relationship. He’d been worrying about Alton since they were children. Even then, his brother had managed to find trouble.
“He’s fine. We would have released him by five o’clock today whether you made it or not. But we wouldn’t have released the truck to him because he has no driver’s license and the truck is registered in your name.”
Joshua shifted in his seat, unsure what to say.
“I’ll need to see some identification to release the truck to you.”
Joshua pulled out his wallet and retrieved his driver’s license.
Straley checked it and then pushed the license back across the desk, studying him the entire time. “Although your brother wasn’t charged with anything, I want to stress to you that this is a serious situation. Driving without a license is against the law. He’s fortunate that the truck was insured—otherwise we would have charged him. As it is… well, he’s a kid who was drinking and about to drive. He could have hurt someone. I just want to make sure you understand that.”
“Ya, we know that what he did was wrong.”
With a sigh, Straley leaned back in his chair. “We see a lot of this, to tell you the truth. It can go one of two ways. Your brother may be testing his limits. If that’s true of Alton, a night in our jail could have been a wake-up call.”
“I hope that is the case.”
“Same here. But I’ve also seen plenty of young men who start out this way and end up in real trouble. That happens all too often.” He sat forward and opened the file. “I’ll need you to sign some papers.”
Once that was done, the officer stood to retrieve Alton. Before he turned away, he said, “We were all young once, and most of us did stupid things. But I will not be lenient with this young man if he shows up in my district again, drinking and driving illegally. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly.”
A dozen questions circled Joshua’s mind as he waited for Alton to appear. When he did, when Joshua first saw him, Alton looked much like the little kid who used to follow him around—hopeful, fearful, and defiant all at once. They said very little, though Joshua thanked the officer. Once outside, they walked two blocks over to the impound lot. Joshua showed the attendant the piece of paper from the officer, and they were given the keys and directed to Alton’s truck.
Or was it Joshua’s?
“I want you to tell me why this truck is in my name. Why the insurance is in my name.” He started the vehicle and pulled out of the lot.
“I couldn’t put it in mine. I don’t have a driver’s license.” Alton stretched and then rolled down the window. The day was warm, and he seemed content to enjoy it.
“Explain it to me, from the beginning.”
“What’s to explain? I couldn’t buy the truck unless I had a license, which we both know I don’t have. Maybe I should have got one… ” He looked puzzled for a moment. “Not in our town. Mamm and Dat would have heard about it before I got home.”
“As if they didn’t hear about the truck.”
Alton shrugged. “So I borrowed your license. We look enough alike when it’s just a headshot.”
“You borrowed it?”
“I put it back, didn’t I?”
“You took it without asking.”
“Because you would have said no.”
Joshua felt as if his head might explode. He saw the street in front of him through a red haze. “So you pretended to be me?”
“I guess.”
“You guess? You either did or you didn’t.”
“Okay. I did. What is the big deal?”
“It’s illegal! That’s the big deal.”
They were about to turn north onto Highway 69. Alton motioned toward a McDonald’s. “Mind stopping? They don’t feed you much in jail—nothing like Mamm’s cooking. Also they took away my cigarettes.”
Joshua gripped the wheel and accelerated onto the highway.
“I guess t
hat’s a no.”
“How do you afford it? A truck, registration, auto insurance, cigarettes, trips to Clarita, and alcohol. How do you afford it all, Alton?”
“One pays for the other.” Alton glanced at his phone, which Joshua could see was dead. The screen remained black. With a disgusted look, he stuck the phone back in his pocket.
“How does one pay for the other?”
“I give folks rides. It’s no big deal. After the singings most of the kids want to go somewhere. They give me a couple of bucks each, and I take them. The money adds up real quick.”
“That doesn’t explain how you paid for the truck.”
Alton squirmed in his seat. Finally he admitted, “I borrowed the money from Myron Ferguson.”
It was worse than Joshua had imagined. Myron was an Englischer who worked on cars and occasionally sold old jalopies. He had a terrible reputation among the Amish, mainly for things like this—enabling Amish teens to get in trouble. Rumor was that Myron would drive the older teens to the casinos in Tulsa and even provide them with fake IDs so they could get in and gamble. Maybe he wasn’t an evil person, but he would do anything to make a buck.
They didn’t speak for the next twenty minutes. Joshua tried to focus on the words his father had said—something about running away from home and everyone being lost. He tried to tamp down his anger, but he couldn’t stop remembering. His mother’s eyes as the bishop told them Alton was in jail. His sisters huddled at the top of the stairs. His father in the glow of the lantern light, unable to sleep.
All because of Alton.
By the time they had crossed Interstate 40, he couldn’t hold his anger in any longer.
“You have no idea the hurt you cause other people with your irresponsible behavior.”
Alton remained crouched down, his ball cap pulled over his eyes.
“Sit up when I’m talking to you.” Joshua fairly spat the words at his brother. “You will not borrow my license or my name ever again. I will sell this truck, since apparently I own it, and you will take the money to Myron and pay him off.”
Joshua's Mission Page 11
