by Sarah Price
Standing in the doorway, he wasn’t quite sure where to go. He waited for Elias to motion toward the sofa against the back wall. Obediently, Alejandro walked across the kitchen in six easy strides, pulling his pants up slightly before he sat. He took off his sunglasses and slid them into the pocket of his jacket.
“Alejandro, is it?” Elias asked.
“Sí, Alejandro.”
“Strange name, that. Almost sounds Amish!”
That image made him laugh. “I can assure you that it’s not.”
Amanda reached for her daed’s hand. “Alejandro is from Cuba.” She said it the way that Alejandro said it: coo-bah. “It’s a little island near Florida.” She smiled at Alejandro. “Isn’t that right?”
He was struck by her innocence. He knew that she was twenty years old, but she seemed so young and vivacious. He had caught glimpses of it when they were in New York City, but here at the farm, in her familiar surroundings, she was much more comfortable. Clearly, she was home.
“An island, you don’t say?” Elias said, nodding his head in approval. “Can’t say I know about this Cuba place.”
“I live in Miami now,” Alejandro offered. “That’s in Florida.”
“Ah! I know about Florida,” Elias said proudly as he took the glass of tea from Lizzie and handed it to Alejandro. “So you are from this place Cuba, living in Miami, and were visiting in New York City. Now you are in Lititz, Pennsylvania. I’d say you are quite the traveling man.”
Again, Alejandro laughed. “I’d say you’re right. That’s what I do. Travel.”
“Travel, eh?” Elias sat down in the chair next to the sofa. He eyed Alejandro, a hint of suspicion in his face. “And do what when you are traveling?”
Amanda lifted her eyes and stared at Alejandro. She seemed to wait patiently for his answer. He was too aware of her stare, steady and curious. He didn’t know how much she knew about his lifestyle, apart from what he had told her. From what he had gathered over the past few days and from what little research he had conducted, he imagined she didn’t know very much about his world.
“I’m an entertainer,” he finally said, speaking slowly and carefully. He wasn’t certain what their reaction would be.
“What kind of entertainer?” Elias asked, direct and to the point.
Clearing his throat, Alejandro took a deep breath. Here it goes, he thought. “I’m a singer.”
“They call him Viper,” Amanda said softly.
“Viper?” Lizzie chimed in, her hand rising to cover her mouth, which formed a perfect O from her surprise at the word. “Oh my!”
“Well,” Elias said. “Can’t say I know much about entertaining people, but we do know about singing. At least in church,” he teased.
“I’m sure that I like the name Alejandro better than Viper,” Lizzie said under her breath, but not unkindly.
“It’s my stage name,” he offered. “What my fans call me.”
Elias and Lizzie exchanged a glance. The unspoken language shared between them did not escape Alejandro’s attention. It was a language that took years to develop and came from the heart. He had seen that silent language before, from his grandparents in Cuba. They could read each other’s minds, it seemed. Whatever it was Elias and Lizzie had just said to each other without words, only they understood. Yet Alejandro waited for the next question, suspecting he knew what it would be.
It was Lizzie who cleared her throat and asked, “That means you sing for people? On stages?”
He nodded, too aware of their curiosity. “Yes, that’s correct.” He paused. “That’s why I was in New York, meeting with a music producer.”
Elias stared at Alejandro. “You headed back to New York, then?”
He raised an eyebrow and glanced out the window. “Los Angeles in a week, then Europe for a two-week tour. Thought I’d find a little hotel and stay here for a few days.” He looked back at Elias. “It would be nice for a change. I’m tired of cities.” And he meant it. He was tired of cities and people and paparazzi. Especially the paparazzi. He knew they’d never find him here. Viper didn’t vacation in small Amish farming villages. Viper stayed in Paris or Rio, places with nightclubs and media on the prowl for a good story.
Elias glanced at Lizzie. Again, there was an unspoken communication between them. But whatever the communication was, they were both in agreement. “Nee,” Elias said. “You can stay here, Alejandro. You took care of our dochder and brought her home to us.”
“It was my limousine that hit her,” he reminded them, humbled by their willingness to forgive and forget so easily.
“Accidents happen and now she’s fine, ja?”
Lizzie nodded. “We have the grossdaadihaus. It’s empty and private. You are welcome to stay there.”
“Grossdaadihaus?” he asked, repeating the strange word that Lizzie had said to him.
“Where my parents used to live. It’s next door to this house,” Elias said. “No one has lived there for a few years since they joined the Lord. Lizzie will straighten it up for you. But it’s yours to stay in while you are here.”
For a moment, he hesitated. He was used to hotels and servants. He was used to five-star dinners and hordes of people who clamored around him. He was used to sleeping late in the morning and staying out until the wee hours. But he had wanted a change, even if just for a few days. This was definitely not what he had expected, but he wondered if, perhaps, it might be just what he needed.
“I’d be honored, sir,” Alejandro said, a serious look on his face. “I could use a change of pace, and this might be just what the doctor ordered.”
“The doctor ordered?” Lizzie repeated. “Are you ill?”
“It’s an expression,” he said lightly. “It means that it would make me happy to be here.”
Elias laughed. “Well, happy is a wunderbar gut thing, ja? And you can always help me in the dairy, if you want to get some farming under your belt and dirt under those fingernails.”
“I can do that,” Alejandro said. “Used to farm in Cuba when I was a boy. Would bring back some memories.”
“We shall see what kind of farmer you are, then,” Elias teased. He turned his attention to Amanda. “Now, as for you, young lady,” he started. “I understand you will be in a cast for quite some time.”
“Ja, four weeks.”
Lizzie tsk-tsked and shook her head. “What were you doing? You should have stayed in Ohio with Anna.”
“Your mamm fixed up the downstairs bedroom for you.”
“Oh, Daed,” she said softly. That was her parents’ bedroom. “I don’t want you to move upstairs. It’s so hot in the summer!”
Her father held up his hand to stop her. “Nee, none of that. We’ll move into your brother’s room.”
Alejandro frowned and looked around. “Brother?” He knew that Amanda had an older sister, but she hadn’t mentioned a brother.
Lizzie lowered her eyes, and Amanda bit her lower lip. They waited for Elias to say something. It took him a minute to compose himself. “Our son died when he was twelve.”
Immediately, Alejandro stared at the three of them. Grief was still apparent on their faces, and he could tell that it was a sensitive subject. “I’m so sorry.”
“Been three years now,” Elias said in a very matter-of-fact way. No one spoke for a few moments. The silence seemed heavy, and Alejandro sat there respectfully. And then the subject was dropped. “Well, best be getting to some of my chores,” Elias said, slapping his hands on his knees before he stood up.
As Elias left the kitchen, Alejandro wasn’t certain what to do. He felt out of place and was suddenly sorry that he had agreed to stay at the farmhouse. What would he do all day? Was he expected to help Elias? He stood up and carried his glass of tea over to the sink. “I suppose I should go speak with my driver. Let him know that I will be staying here.”
Alejandro appreciated her generosity, but he wasn’t certain how, exactly, to explain the situation. “It’s not like that, you see.”
Lizzie questioned him with her eyes before asking the question: “Not like that?”
“He wouldn’t come in.”
“Where will he stay?” Lizzie asked, alarmed. “There is room for him here, too.”
Alejandro smiled. “He’ll stay at a motel and be nearby if I need him.”
“That seems rather foolish when there are empty bedrooms.” He knew it wasn’t said as a criticism, just a mere statement.
Alejandro shrugged. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t be understood. He knew that right away. Simply put, as a hired man, the driver would never stay with Alejandro. The driver wasn’t paid to be his friend, just to be available and, if needed, to help protect Alejandro. But getting personal with each other was not an option. Alejandro suspected that it was not a philosophy that would be easily understood by Amish people; they seemed to be genuinely generous in spirit and in deeds. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said and slipped out through the door.
After exchanging a few words, the driver quietly took Alejandro’s bag out of the trunk and carried it to the porch of the house. He set it down and waved at Alejandro. As the limousine pulled away from the house and disappeared around the corner of the barn, Alejandro felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Despite feeling alone and somewhat insecure in this very different environment, he also felt more alive and freer than ever. If only for a few days, he had escaped the limelight and could relax . . . It was the first time in years, he realized as he bent down to pick up his bag, that he was truly on his own.
Carrying the bag back into the house, he stood in the doorway and looked around the kitchen. The house was quiet, the only noise coming from the ticking of a clock that hung on the wall and the running water from the sink where Lizzie was working. Everything was neat and tidy, from the dark-green window shades that were pulled down to block direct sunlight to the vinyl floor. Amanda was on the sofa, staring out the window at the fields. He tilted his head, watching her. The sun was coming through the window, casting a warm glow on her face.
She was beautiful. He couldn’t help but stare at her, noticing her high cheekbones and full lips. Her eyes were so large and full of life. Despite being so petite, she was clearly a strong young woman. He realized that over the past few days he had become quite fond of her zest for living. It was so different from what he was used to in his own world, where the women were focused on fashion and looks, vying for his attention but not necessarily for his affection. This one who sat before him on the sofa didn’t even know he was in the room and, most likely, didn’t even care.
He cleared his throat.
Lizzie looked up. “I didn’t even hear you come back in,” she said, smiling. She wiped her hands on the towel that hung over the counter. “Let me get you situated. It’s nice that someone can use the empty haus.” She hurried over to a door behind the sofa. “You’ll be all right for a few minutes, ja?” she said to Amanda.
Alejandro followed Lizzie through the door. There was a larger room, empty with the exception of a bookshelf in the corner. It was dark and clearly not used very often. The shades were pulled completely down, covering the windows so that only a sliver of light filtered through the glass. Lizzie didn’t seem to notice the darkness as she bustled along and opened another door.
When Alejandro stepped through the second door behind Lizzie, he caught his breath. It was a smaller house but equally as pristine. A kitchen with a sitting area looked as if it was completely ready and waiting for him. The light hanging over the kitchen table was polished and reflected the rest of the room. He had never seen a light like this. He glanced at it and frowned.
“¿Qué es eso?” he said, slipping into Spanish. When Lizzie looked at him, he apologized. “I’m sorry. I mean, what is this?”
She laughed, her eyes turning into half-moons. “It’s a light. Since we don’t use electricity, we use propane and kerosene lanterns.” She moved over to the counter and pointed to a box on the wall. “The matches are kept here.” She reached into the small metal box and pulled out a matchstick, then struck it against what looked like the back of a matchbox that was adhered to the wall. It hissed as it lit. She carried it back to the table, reached for a knob on the light, and lit the lantern. “See? Now you can see better.” She waved her hand to extinguish the match.
“Fascinating,” he said, and he meant it. The light was bright and noisy, with a steady whooshing sound that filled the room.
“The bedroom is behind the stairs,” she said pointing toward the wooden staircase. “There are three bedrooms upstairs, but it will be cooler down here, ja?” She hurried over to the door behind the staircase and opened it. “Everything is fresh, but I haven’t cleaned the windows this month,” she said by way of apology.
Alejandro turned around, staring at the room. A beautiful handmade quilt covered the bed, the mixture of colors vivacious and welcoming, not the usual silk comforters that he slept under in his hotel suites. There were hooks on the wall with empty hangers, but no closet. He quickly understood that clothes were hung on the wall, not hidden away.
“You should be comfortable here,” she said, backing out of the room. “Nice to have someone use it. Been empty since my own daed passed a few years back.”
Alejandro raised an eyebrow. “And yet you clean it every week?”
“Of course,” she said, looking at him as if he was kidding. “Doesn’t take much time after all to keep it tidy and ready.”
He wondered what the purpose was for keeping it tidy and neat if no one was to live there. But rather than ask, he settled on, “Who will live here?”
Lizzie averted her eyes but not before he saw the dark cloud that passed through them. “No one, I imagine.” She paused, still looking away. It seemed that there was more that she wanted to say, something that was difficult for her. She struggled to find the right words and finally settled on, “Elias and I would have moved here when our son married and took over the farm. The girls will most likely move to their own husbands’ farms when they marry. We’ll eventually sell it to another young couple then.” She said no more, and Alejandro realized that it was not a subject that she wished to continue discussing. “But now you can stay here. Anyone who has taken such wonderful care of our dear Amanda is a blessing and welcomed in our home!”
Thankful for the gracious out, he bowed slightly. “I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality.”
She looked up and forced a smile. “You must be tired after so much travel. It’s a long journey from New York City, ja?” She started to walk toward the door. “Rest up, and we’ll have a light supper at six, after Elias is finished with the evening milking, if you’d care to join us.”
Engulfed in silence, Alejandro stared after her when she disappeared through the door. A surreal feeling hung over him, and he wondered what, exactly, he was doing at this farm, by himself, and far from his people. He was used to having a small entourage of friends and associates surrounding him, guiding him, and abiding him. Now, alone, he was staying with people who neither knew him nor particularly cared about his music. It was truly a liberating experience.
With a sense of serenity, he realized that Lizzie was right. He was tired and could use a rest. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and sat down on the edge of the bed. Sleep, he thought. Even if just for an hour. He lay back on the pillow and shut his eyes, realizing that he hadn’t had a break in his life for over five years that permitted him the luxury of a late afternoon nap. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and peace in his heart.
Chapter Six
Alejandro had awoken shortly after five in the evening. He stretched as he walked around the small house, noticing every detail from the ha
lf-drawn green shades to the woven rug under the rocking chair. It was so different from what he was used to. His world seemed so far removed. Gone were the marble counters and tile floors. Missing were the leather sofas and silk draperies. Instead, he felt as though he had returned to his roots, a plain and simple time that reminded him of his childhood.
He sat down in the rocking chair and reached for his cell phone. Reluctantly, he flipped it open and checked his messages. Too many phone calls, he thought. He ignored them and switched over to his e-mail. Over two hundred messages. He glanced through the list and responded to a few of the electronic correspondence from Mike before tucking his phone back into his pocket. He knew that he’d regret not responding to the messages later. E-mail had a way of breeding more e-mail. But, he rationalized, he was on vacation and didn’t want to get bogged down with electronic communications.
Electronic communications, he thought as he stared at his silenced cell phone. When had his life taken such a turn? When had he begun to live through 140 characters in Twitter messages and Facebook statuses? Gone were the days of living life and enjoying the moment. Instead, he answered to Likes and Retweets. His life was managed by technology and by whatever the world decided was all right to pass along through these social networks.
He rubbed his forehead. When had his inner self disappeared? He felt lost and alone in a world of a million followers and fans, people he would never meet and whose snapshots were their only identities when they commented on his own postings. Some of the fans even went too far, creating their own fantasy world about him, posting lies or accusations. That was part of being a celebrity, dealing with the crazies, and he had learned that there were plenty of them out there. Sometimes he felt as if he had created another planet. His own planet, where he now lived, surrounded by his fans and followers.
