by Amy Lillard
“The Turtles are a good group.” He was sad that his parents wouldn’t let his brothers join the youth group that Titus himself had been a part of, but he could understand their mind-set. Titus had ended up in enough trouble for all of them. Not that it was the Dragons’ fault or that being in a different youth group would have changed anything.
Titus took up his fork and steadied his hand as he tried to eat at an acceptable pace. A pulled pork sandwich with barbecue sauce and potato salad on the side. And as always there was applesauce, peanut butter spread, and biscuits, most likely leftover from breakfast. He took a bite and chewed as slowly as he dared. He didn’t have to fight any longer. Didn’t have to eat food that he wasn’t familiar with. He was eating his mother’s cooking, at home, at the table where he had eaten so many meals in the past.
The potato salad was as cool and tangy as he remembered it to be. Tears rose into his eyes. He blinked them away, swallowed the lump in his throat, and took another bite. He’d have plenty of time to think about what it meant to be home. But he would have to wait before taking out his emotions and examining them.
“If I had known you were coming, I would have made something more special. Chicken and dumplings or fried chicken.”
“Sit down, Jenny. Let the poor boy eat,” his father groused.
His mother hesitated, then moved to the opposite side of the table.
“I’ve only got one more year of school,” Paul boasted. “Then Dat said I could take over at the market.”
Once upon a time that had been Titus’s job and his dream: to take over at the market and run the family business. They sold anything and everything at the market. Canned goods, yarn items, produce, quilted pot holders. Name it and they had it. Once upon a time, Titus had thought that he would expand their operation. He’d had dreams of opening an actual store in town. He had even gone so far as to search for a place on Main Street. He’d found one too, but he had noticed on the way through town that someone had claimed that space. It appeared to be a specialty sports store selling jerseys and such for all the Oklahoma sports teams. It didn’t add as much to the charm of the town as his store would have, but that opportunity was long past.
What were you thinking? That the place would still be empty, waiting for you to come home? Life went on; even while he felt suspended in time, everything in Wells Landing had continued without him.
“That’s good, Paul.” He was proud of his little brother. Truly he was. But with Paul in Titus’s old spot, where did that leave Titus?
“June’s in love,” Rachel sang.
He had expected protests from his oldest sister, but instead she turned a bright shade of pink.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” When he had gone in, June had been seventeen and just getting into the swing of her runaround time. Back then she had been crazy about Noah Treger’s little brother, Samuel. But the blush on her cheeks was not from a five-year-old relationship. No, this was something new.
“No one,” she muttered.
“Timmy Glick,” Rachel squealed.
“Rachel,” Dat warned.
She covered her mouth and her eyes twinkled over her fingers.
“Jonah’s cousin?”
June nodded.
Why didn’t Jonah say anything about that?
Or maybe Jonah had recognized the fact that Titus might not be in Wells Landing long enough for it to matter.
Titus wanted to ask what had happened between June and Samuel, but that was a story for another day.
He couldn’t believe he was actually sitting there, in his mamm’s kitchen, listening to his family talk about everyday things as they struggled to catch him up on what he’d missed since he had gone to jail. The whole experience was almost more than he could bear. He was so thankful to be at home, so very glad to be free. Free! He was free. Though he had no idea what to do next.
He wanted to do everything at once and yet couldn’t find the energy to get out of the chair. Titus pushed his plate to the side, and his mother was on her feet in a second. “Do you want some more? There’s plenty.”
He looked down at his empty plate. He had used the last of his biscuit to wipe up anything left. It was a habit from his childhood, but it had served him well on the inside. Sometimes he didn’t know where his next meal was coming from.
“No, thanks.” He wasn’t sure where he’d put all that he had just eaten. He was hungry and yet not. His stomach was tied in knots, his neck tight with tensions as he looked around at the faces of his family. The faces he’d missed so much in the last five years. The moment was so surreal he almost pinched himself to see if he was awake. Free. He was free.
His mother and father had come to the prison twice before he couldn’t bear it any longer. He told them to go home and not to come back. He didn’t want them to see him behind bars. His mother had protested, but he had held fast and strong. He would see her when he could. Now she sat across from him, her smile trembling, tears looking like they might fall at any minute. Still, she managed to blink them back and continued to smile. How long would it be before they got used to him being home and didn’t stare at him like they were now? He was used to having his every move watched. But this was a little unnerving. He pushed back from the table, and in a second his family was on their feet as well. He shook his head. “I just thought I’d go out for a little walk. Check out the farm.”
Gabe Allen took a step forward, his chest puffed out importantly. “I’ll take you if you want me to.”
Titus shook his head. “That’s not necessary. I know my way around.”
Gabe Allen lost a little bit of his starch, but he picked it back up quickly. “I would like to spend some time with you.”
And I’d just like to spend some time alone. He had spent the last five years knees and elbows to a bunch of angry, violent men. And as much as he loved his family and wanted to spend time with them, right now he needed the solitude he couldn’t find on the inside. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Gabe Allen he wanted to be alone. “Come on, then.”
He could feel their eyes on him as he turned and made his way back to the door. He grabbed his hat off the peg, the motion so familiar that it almost made him cry. He hadn’t been allowed his hat on the inside. Titus hadn’t understood what about an Amish felt hat was so dangerous, but he knew the men on the inside were clever. They could make weapons of almost anything.
It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that God might be everywhere, but He didn’t listen through prison walls.
The sun was just starting to set as he and Gabe Allen made their way into the yard. Like everything else in Wells Landing, change on the farm came slowly. There were a few things different—a repair job in the fence, a new horse, a new dog. But as much as everything seemed the same, he was different. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck again, that stitching a constant irritant. His clothes felt too tight, or maybe his body too big. He felt obvious, conspicuous, and so out of place he didn’t know if he’d ever feel like a part of his own home again.
“It’s so good to have you here,” Gabe Allen said. “Was that Jonah who brought you home?”
Titus gave a small nod in response. Jail had been so full of shouting and banging that he didn’t want to add to the quiet that surrounded him. He could hear the birds chirping, the wind blowing through the trees, sounds of the animals all around, the hum of faraway engines, and the white buzz of silence.
He hadn’t even been out for a whole day, and the change was almost more than he could handle.
Give it time.
He had no idea how much time it would take until he felt like he belonged here once again.
e(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
