Gay Amish 03 - A Way Home (10 page)

Mother was at the well, and Katie stood by the stove barefoot, stirring a pot of oatmeal while bacon and eggs crackled in a greasy pan. She smiled brightly. “Are you hungry?”

“Does a dog have a tail?” Isaac had removed his boots at the door, and he flexed his toes against the floorboards. His feet ached already, and he realized just how little physical work he’d been doing in San Francisco.

Katie giggled and held out the spoon. “Do you want a taste?”

The hot sugary oatmeal was thick and wonderful. He groaned. “So good.” He realized that the wooden spoon was the one he’d made Mother years ago, and for some reason it warmed him. He eyed the stack of pots and pans on the counter. “Do you want help putting those away?”

“No. I have to give them back to the neighbors. There’s practically been more food than there is when Mother’s home all day.”

The warmth in Isaac grew. He wondered if city neighbors ever helped out as much as Amish. While Katie finished up, Isaac surveyed the table. It was exactly as he remembered—a little battered, with a bench on either side. And as he remembered, there were three place settings on one side and four on the other. There would only be six of them today, but he supposed Katie had set Nathan’s place from habit.

Still stirring, she followed his gaze. “He’ll be back soon. I just know it. God will bring him home.”

Isaac nodded. “I hope so. Should I sit in my old spot?”

“Of course. It’s always set for you.”

He blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“We always set your place for you.”

“Since I left? You…for every meal?” His throat was thick.

She nodded. “Every day we pray for you to come back.”

The thought that at every single meal his place had sat there, untouched and empty, made his stomach knot. He hadn’t thought of his family as often—that was certain. He’d been swept up in David and the city and his new life. Now, standing in the kitchen, he could see for himself the hole he’d left behind. His eyes flicked to Nathan’s spot.
Please, God. Let him live.

“Isaac? Are you okay?” Katie’s eyes were wide.

He forced a breath and managed to keep his voice even. “Yes. I’m fine. So, do you miss school? You’re doing such a wonderful job here so Mother can go to the hospital.”

“Thank you. I do miss it.” She brought down the bowls and began dishing out the oatmeal. “We were learning how to write a proper letter. But Mother said she’d show me.”

“You could write to me to practice.”

“Okay.” She smiled, but then her lip trembled. “But Isaac, aren’t you coming back to stay? You won’t really leave again, will you?”

“Katie, I…I wish I could. But I can’t stay for good.”

She dropped the spoon with a thunk into the pot. “But Isaac! You won’t go to heaven!” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m so scared for you. Aren’t you scared? You can’t go back out there. You’ll go to hell.”

“It’s all right. I’m not scared.” He drew her into his arms and rubbed her back. “Shh. Don’t cry. I promise I’ll be okay. When you’re older you’ll see that sometimes God puts us on a different path. Don’t worry about me.” He kissed her head and rested his cheek against her pale hair.

Sniffling, Katie clung to him. “I don’t want you to go to hell, Isaac. You have to come back and join the church. Josiah’s Rachel told me so. Everyone says it’s true.”

“I think there’s more than one way to heaven.”

“Isaac.” Mother’s sharp voice made him jump. She watched from the doorway with a pail in her hand. “Don’t speak such things in this house.”

Nodding, he gave Katie a last pat and stepped back. He wanted to say that it was true—that it
had
to be true—but there was no point. “I’m sorry.”

Ephraim, Joseph, and Father came in, and soon they stood around the table and said the silent prayer. Isaac sped through the usual Lord’s Prayer and added a few extra lines.

Please make Nathan well, and guide me and David to our true home, wherever that might be.

#

By the time they made it to the hospital, Isaac was ready to crawl out of his skin. In a car it would have taken a quarter of the time at most, and it was amazing how quickly he’d gotten used to the convenience. All those years of a horse and buggy, but after a few months of cars and buses, he couldn’t imagine going back.

As he walked with his parents across the lot, he pulled down the brim of his hat to shade against the sun. It was turning into a brilliant spring day, and birds chirped merrily. The thought that he could see Nathan again, and that David would be waiting for him inside made him want to race ahead, but he kept pace with Mother and Father through the sliding doors.

Inside, the cheeriness of the day evaporated. The air felt heavier, like it was as gray as the floor and walls. A light flickered in the stairwell as they trudged up to the third floor in silence. Isaac had the stupid thought that they were going into battle, and he supposed they were. Against cancer. The world. Each other.

When he entered the hall, his gaze immediately found David by Nathan’s door, and Isaac smiled automatically. But it vanished as he took in David’s hunched shoulders and downcast eyes. Then Isaac focused on the other people in the hall—Aaron in the corner with his arms crossed and lips thin, and the black-clad forms of Bishop Yoder and Deacon Stoltzfus, who seemed to take up so much room in the corridor that for a moment Isaac wondered if they’d somehow grown taller.

The absurd thought that he should run reverberated in Isaac’s mind before he banished it. He made his feet move, his Amish boots heavy on the worn tile as he followed Mother and Father. A man in a wheelchair dragging a little tank of air stared as they skirted around him.

Nathan’s room was at the end of the hall, which was a good thing considering how many visitors he had that morning. Of course the bishop and deacon weren’t there to bring him a sweet treat or best wishes from the congregation. They held their hats in their hands, and Isaac took off his and brushed his hair forward as best he could. Aaron’s smile was tight when he caught his eye.

Aaron mouthed, “
Okay
?”

Isaac nodded. He mouthed back, “
You
?”

Aaron nodded, but Isaac wasn’t sure he believed him. He raised his eyebrows, and Aaron relaxed for a moment, giving him a flicker of a real smile. He nodded again.

David still stared at his sneakers, and Isaac willed him to look up.
Is he mad at me?
It was silent as the seconds ticked by, and Isaac fidgeted, reaching into his pants pocket to close his fingers over the folding knife. He wished he had something to carve, and a pang of missing carpentry tolled through him. Everything in the city had been so new and shiny, and he’d hardly known where to start. It had never been easy, yet now when he looked back on those days with David in the Lantz barn, it seemed so peaceful and simple as anything.

“How’s Nathan?” he asked, shocked at the sound of his own voice. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Bishop Yoder regarded him with a hawk’s precision. He was tall and thin, his white hair wispy and beard wiry. “The Lord is sending Nathan strength and courage. We pray for his full recovery and God’s blessing.”

“He’s in chemo,” Aaron said. “He’s hanging in there.”

The bishop went on as if Aaron wasn’t there at all. “Isaac, how good to see you yielding to the Lord and obeying your parents. I know how heavy their hearts have been in your absence.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “Uh, thank you.” He willed David to look at him, but David’s chin was still down.

“The Lord has a plan for everything, Isaac. Now He has brought you home. It is as it should be.” Bishop Yoder glanced at David. “We hope your good influence will help David return to the right path as well.”

An English phrase popped into Isaac’s mind as he glanced at the deacon.
If looks could kill
. The deacon glowered at pretty much everyone, but he stared at David so hard that Isaac half expected David’s hair to start smoking. Deacon Stoltzfus was a barrel of a man, his dark beard heavy and hanging to mid-chest. His fingers were stubby where he gripped the brim of his black hat.

A harried older woman in a flapping white coat appeared, flipping pages on a clipboard. Her blonde hair was cropped short and her name tag read
Dr. Anita Tyler.
“Mr. and Mrs. Byler, I’d like to talk to you about our latest test results.” She glanced up and seemed to notice everyone else for the first time. “Ah. I see Nathan has quite a few visitors today. Remember that he needs his rest. No more than three people at a time, please. In fact, I think most of you should come back another day. He won’t be up for visitors after this round of chemo.”

Aaron brushed by the bishop and deacon. “Do you have the test results for me and Isaac?”

“Not yet. The lab’s backed up. Dr. Beharry at the Mayo Clinic will be following up to try and light a fire under them. He’s one of the very best oncologists in the country, and he’s also a pit bull, which is great for Nathan.” Dr. Tyler consulted her clipboard again. “Mr. and Mrs. Byler, if we could speak privately?” She ushered them into Nathan’s empty room.

“How are they paying for all this?” Isaac asked, not sure who he was asking.

“The community will provide. We take care of our own,” Deacon Stoltzfus answered. Isaac was surprised that his voice sounded so calm and reasonable and wasn’t merely a growl. “We are obedient to the Lord, and He provides.”

David still stared at his feet. “My mother wrote a letter to the paper, asking people to send what they can. Like your mother did when…after the accident.”

“Oh. Good.” Isaac smiled tentatively, but David didn’t look up.

Aaron’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket, defiant as he stared down the bishop and answered it. “Hey. Yeah. Hold on a second.” To Isaac and David he said, “I’ll be back.” He strode down the hall and disappeared around a corner.

“You must turn away from sin. From the path of the devil.” Bishop Yoder’s thin face creased, and he appeared truly pained. “I pray you will both repent and return to your families. The loss of even one child is too much for Zebulon to bear. This has been torment for all of us. We will speak with you further soon.”

With that he marched away, the deacon on his heels. Isaac exhaled, and then David started down the hall too. He disappeared into the bathroom, and Isaac followed. Did David want to see him? Maybe something had happened, or maybe—

“Finally.” As the door shut behind Isaac, David was there, his pale blue eyes intent as he snatched Isaac’s hat and took Isaac’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply. Fortunately the bathroom was empty, and David tugged him into one of the stalls, squeezing over the toilet so they could both shuffle inside and latch the door.

Then Isaac’s back was against it, and David pressed close, kissing him again tenderly. “Hi,” he breathed. He hung Isaac’s hat on a hook on the side of the stall.

“Hi.” Isaac had to smile as he ran his hands over David’s back, squeezing through the soft cotton of his plaid shirt. “You wouldn’t look at me. I thought maybe you were mad.”

David’s breath puffed warm over Isaac’s cheek. “I was afraid if I looked at you they’d see. We hid it for so long, but I don’t think I can now. Especially not when I miss you so much.” He nuzzled Isaac’s neck.

The scrape of David’s stubble was reassuring and exciting at the same time. “I know.” Isaac wound his fingers through David’s hair, and spread his legs so David’s thigh could fit neatly between them. “I have to see you alone. There’s so much we need to talk about. There’s just…so much of everything.” He sneaked his hand under David’s shirt, touching his skin.

“Careful, or we might get arrested for doing something naughty in a public place.”

Isaac laughed, and it felt so good. For the moment, he let himself forget about cancer and preachers and his parents’ expectations. “Promise?”

David laughed too, and then they froze as the door opened with a rush of noise from the hallway—footsteps and a squeaky wheel of some kind, and a static-filled voice saying something over the loudspeaker. Isaac dug his fingers into David’s bare back, and they stared at each other, listening as a zipper was pulled down. They exhaled in unison, and Isaac couldn’t resist rocking his hips against David’s thigh. He was getting hard, but it was more than that. He would have been content to just press against David from head to toe and breathe him in.

David bit back a laugh as they listened to the stranger pee at the urinal, and Isaac pressed his lips to David’s cheek. It felt so right being together again. He knew they had problems they needed to face, but there was a sense of certainty growing deep inside him that felt sturdy and right. A certainty that despite whatever mistakes they made, this thing between them was solid and sure, rooted deep into the earth like the roots of a tree. No matter what happened, they’d face it together.

As the man left the bathroom, David smiled tentatively. “What?”

“Nothing. Everything.” Isaac realized he was smiling. “We’re okay. We’re still here. They can’t change that. No one can change that if we don’t let them.” He shook his head. “I’m probably not making any sense.”

“You are.” David kissed Isaac’s forehead. “We won’t let them. Not anyone.”

For a minute, they just held each other, and Isaac closed his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against the soft flannel of David’s shirt. “I guess we should go. I want to talk to Aaron.” He raised his head.

With a smile, David ran his thumb over Isaac’s lower lip. “Do you think you can get away tonight? Meet me in the woods by June’s. Can you take Silver?”

“Yes. I’ll find a way. Midnight.”

They kissed again, and slipped back out into the hall. Aaron was saying something to their stony-faced parents by the door to Nathan’s room. The warmth he’d gained from the peaceful, giddy respite with David vanished, and Isaac kept his own eyes on the floor now. David was right. If they weren’t careful everyone would see, and Isaac didn’t want to even imagine what would happen then.

#

It was late afternoon by the time Isaac approached the Miller farm. The old buggy jostled him as a wheel caught a spring pothole, and he reined in Silver by John Miller’s house. Mervin’s older brother was likely out in the fields, and as Isaac climbed down from the buggy, he spotted John’s wife in the kitchen window. She didn’t wave, but he lifted a hand anyway.