A Plain Man (2 page)

James peered up from ground level. “Maybe Emma Wengard will come, or Dot Raber. Then we could—”

“Are you allowing this fire to go out?” Ben Weaver appeared in the doorway of the sugarhouse, abruptly curtailing his son's romantic plans. Although his father sounded stern, his blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“
Nein,
I'm just discussing something with our best employee.” James sprinted to the wagon for an armload of split firewood.

“Employee implies a person gets a paycheck. I've only got ham sandwiches with hot coffee for you boys.” Ben set down a cloth-covered basket and thermos and returned to his own tasks. No idle hands during sugar season.

James washed his hands in a bucket of soapy water. “At least think about going to the breakfast. You need to get off the farm more. Aren't you bored since coming back from the city?”

Caleb rolled up his sleeves, picked up the bar of soap, and scrubbed off the dried-on sap. Seldom did anyone bring up his five-year venture into the
Englisch
world. Most Amish people preferred to forget the life he led since leaving home. “Bored? Nah, I'm not bored. I have a roof over my head without a rent payment to worry about. I eat three square meals a day from the
second
best cook in Wayne County. I have clothes on my back and not one, but two hats to my name.” Caleb pulled on his suspenders. “And I get to barrel down the road at eight miles an hour as long as it's not snowing or raining too hard.”

James wasn't sure how to take the sarcasm. “Are you thinking about moving back to the city?”

Caleb met James's eye. “Absolutely not. The
Englisch
world isn't all it's cracked up to be. When my car broke down, I couldn't afford to
repair the junk-heap. After I could finally afford to buy a truck, it got towed because I parked in the wrong spot. By the time I figured out where they towed it, the impound fees and fines were more than the truck was worth. Without a vehicle I couldn't get to work on time, so I got fired.”

James seemed to sort the details in his mind. “Wasn't there public transportation or a coworker to give you a lift?”

“Even if I caught a ride to the union hall, I usually sat around twiddling my thumbs. Construction was slow, and I'm not just talking about winter. Without a paycheck a man doesn't eat. I don't know if you ever tried it, but going hungry is no fun.”

James dried his hands and dug their lunch from the basket. “There must have been something you liked up north. You stayed away for five years.” He handed Caleb two sandwiches.

Caleb slouched down against a post. “Plenty at first, when I had wheels and a good job. But money management didn't turn out to be my strong suit.”

His friend's confusion only seemed to deepen.

Caleb didn't know how much to reveal about his past. Could he admit he'd hung out in bars until closing time and bought drinks for people he'd never met before? Should he talk about sleeping with women who were little more than acquaintances? How about the fact that he'd attended church only once during his entire time in Cleveland? Unless he counted church basements that operated as free soup kitchens. No, none of that would help him reconnect with his few friends in the district.

“Let's just say it's harder to be successful in the
Englisch
world. And if a man's not successful, he's not going to be happy.” Caleb lifted the top slice of homemade bread to inspect the sandwich. It was almost an inch of honey-smoked ham and Swiss cheese with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, and bread-and-butter pickles. “Do you know how much a sandwich like this would cost in the city?”

Shaking his head, James took another bite of lunch.

“Eight or nine dollars. All I have to do here is put in ten hours of hard labor.”

The two laughed in camaraderie before returning to their assigned tasks—James tending the evaporator and stoking the fire; Caleb ferrying endless buckets of sap to the sugarhouse. But when Caleb climbed into his buggy to head home that night, he felt tired but content. He had helped a neighbor and filled his hours with muscle-building work instead of spirit-draining mental activity. Each day the sun grew warmer and the hours of daylight longer. Caleb had even spotted a robin that morning—a sure sign that spring was around the corner.

Spring would definitely help his disposition. He needed to get out of the house. A man could only sweep the barn or restack hay bales so many times. Once the land dried out, they could start plowing and planting. Outdoors with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, he felt free.

And less like a prisoner.

His homecoming on Christmas Eve had been sweeter than he imagined it would be, surely better than any prodigal son deserved. His mother had fawned over him for days—cooking his favorite foods and baking extra sweets. His three sisters welcomed him with unabashed affection. Sarah made no mention of his empty refrigerator in a deplorable apartment. She greeted him with a smile each morning, always ready to help smooth his transition from
Englisch
back to Plain.

Caleb didn't mind owning few clothes. Or the fact that his
mamm
cut his hair to look like every other Amish man in town. He didn't even mind his slow mode of transportation. But must his father watch his every move like a prowling dog near the henhouse? Couldn't he give him the benefit of the doubt? Why did Eli Beachy treat him like a shirttail relative dropping by on his way to a family reunion?

He had come home, but his father refused to believe it.

Eli watched his firstborn kick off his boots from the kitchen window. His face looked smudged with soot and raw from the wind while his chore coat was dirty beyond belief. It would take Elizabeth every trick in her laundry book to get the coat clean again.

As Caleb swept open the door, Eli let the curtain drop back in place. “Leave that jacket on the porch, son. It's filthy. What's the matter with you?” An icy blast filled the room.

“Nothing is wrong with me. It's cold outside.” Shrugging off the garment, Caleb tossed it onto the glider. Once inside, he headed straight for the bathroom.

“Your
mamm'
s been holding supper for you. The rest of us are starving. Do you know what time it is?”

Caleb halted halfway across the kitchen and peered at the battery wall clock. “It's six thirty. Sorry,
Mamm.
James wanted all the buckets down to the sugarhouse before dark.” Caleb spoke to Elizabeth over his shoulder. “You've got no idea what critters come down from the hills to make a feast...or a mess if we leave them out. Animals can smell something sweet a mile away. Mind if I shower before I eat?”

“I can just imagine.” Elizabeth lifted pans from the oven with her mitts. “No problem. Nothing bad will happen if the meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and butter beans sit for ten more minutes. You go ahead.”

Caleb shut the bathroom door behind him without acknowledging his father.
A sign of disrespect
, thought Eli, joining his
fraa
at the stove. “That boy spends more time down the road than he does at home. It's as though we don't have enough chores to keep him busy.”

“I heard him ask if you needed help with milking last evening and you told him no.” She carried the double meat loaf to the table's center trivet.

“Well, I didn't, not last night.” Eli frowned as she returned to the stove.

“And he asked if you needed help ordering seeds. Sometimes the fine print in those catalogs is hard to decipher, even with reading glasses.” She slipped her soiled apron over her head.

“The boy could see I had my magnifier out. How many people does it take to order a few packets of radish, carrot, and turnip seeds?” Eli carried his mug of coffee to the head of the table and eased into his chair. “Besides, I don't like anybody to hover over my shoulder.”

Holding a pot of beans aloft, Elizabeth stared at him over her half-moon glasses. “If you want or need Caleb's assistance, tell him what you
wish done and when. Give him a list of chores,
ehemann.
Stop waiting for him to read your mind.” She placed the pot on another trivet and walked to the bottom of the steps. “Sarah, Rebekah, Katie, come downstairs. It's time to eat.”

Eli clamped down on his molars and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I haven't needed help since he came home. January and February aren't exactly the busy season around a farm. If the Weavers could use him with sugaring, I don't mind sending him over. They gave me a hand last October with the corn harvest.”

Elizabeth removed a huge bowl of salad from the refrigerator. “Now you've got me confused, Eli. What exactly is the matter?” She also spoke softly as she slipped into her chair.

“He barely pays me any mind at all since coming back. He seems to go out of his way to avoid me. And I'm his pa.”

“
Jah,
but he's twenty-four years old, not fourteen. He's a grown man, accustomed to living on his own. You can't expect him to ask for help with his homework or for you to take him fishing down by the river. You said yourself not much is happening this time of year, so maybe there's not much to talk about.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as though to stem a headache.

“I watched him from the corner of my eye at preaching last Sunday. He was practically dozing off.”

Much to Eli's dismay, Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Goodness, he wouldn't be the first man—or woman—to fall asleep during the younger minister's sermon. The man does tend to get long-winded.”

“It's not funny. The boy should show me some respect.”

Elizabeth stretched out a hand to pat his arm. “Like I said—he's not a boy; he's a man. Please be patient with him,” she pleaded. “He was gone a long time and his shift back to Amish life will not occur overnight.”

He nodded, knowing she was right, but something still niggled in the back of his mind. “We don't know what his life had been like. Who were his people up in the city? What kind of nasty business did he get involved in?” Eli felt a frisson of anxiety run up his spine, not for his son's physical safety, but for his eternal soul.

“You're right. We don't know and we never will. It's not our concern. He hadn't joined the church yet, so all can be forgiven and forgotten once he does. Let the past go, Eli. It's causing you much grief.” Again she patted his arm as though he were a child.

“Then the sooner he gets baptized the better.” When he lifted the lid from the meat loaf pan, the pungent aroma of garlic and onions filled the room, whetting his appetite.

“Give him a chance. And while you're at it, why not give him a job?”

“Work for
me
again?” His anxiety didn't diminish.

“You said yourself it's almost spring. Soon the roofing contracts will pick up, along with barn building. Couldn't you use an extra pair of hands?”

“
Jah
, but—”

“With so small a herd of cows, the girls and I can manage most farm chores. We won't need Caleb home all day.”

“But I thought—”

His
fraa
interrupted a second time—a rare occurrence. “Caleb is an accomplished carpenter. Sarah told us he'd been an apprentice for three years and had made journeyman. He was a member of the carpenters' union in Cleveland, so it's not like you're hiring a man without skills. The two of you working together makes perfect sense to me.”

“Mind if I put in my two cents' worth? Or do you prefer to handle both sides of the conversation?” Eli glowered at his beloved wife.

She laughed at his distress. “Sorry,
mei liewi.
I got carried away. I grant you the floor.” Elizabeth flourished her hand over the table just as his three daughters sauntered into the kitchen, carefree as a picnic on a warm summer day. Their youngest walked straight to the chocolate cake on the counter and stuck her finger in the frosting.

“Leave the cake alone and sit down,” Eli thundered. “Why must your
mamm
fix supper alone while her three
dochders
laze around their bedroom like
Englischers
?”

Sarah's jaw dropped while the younger two slinked to their seats like chastised hound dogs. “I baked the cake as soon as I got home from work,” Sarah said. “Then I ironed every shirt and dress in
Mamm'
s laundry basket. I was sewing in my room until Cal got home.”

Rebekah looked annoyed. “And I fixed the salad along with the mashed potatoes.”

“I set the table.” Katie sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“I can vouch for truthful statements all around.” Elizabeth appeared to be biting her tongue.

“In that case,
danki
.” Eli couldn't quite bring himself to apologize to his
kinner.
“Sit down, Sarah. As soon as your
bruder
finishes—”