Gay Amish 03 - A Way Home (2 page)

He nodded, eyes glued to Mother, willing her to look his way again. “Flying was…weird. A little scary, but Aaron was with me.” It was difficult to even believe that yesterday he’d been all the way in San Francisco, and today he was back in Minnesota. He’d followed Aaron at the airport and did what he said, and wished he could have enjoyed the experience, but he’d only felt numb. Maybe if David had been there… But now he was on his way, at least.
What will we say to each other? Is everything ruined? What would I do without him?

“You okay?” Danielle took his shoulder. “You look like you might throw up.” She put the back of her hand to his forehead.

“I’m fine.” He gulped in a breath and watched Aaron and Mother face each other.

“How does it work?” Danielle frowned as she followed his gaze. “I’ve heard of shunning, but I don’t know what’s real and what’s made up for TV.”

“Um, it’s…” Isaac trailed off.

Father joined Mother just outside the room, standing ramrod straight. Tears pricked Isaac’s eyes as he watched his parents. It had only been months, but they looked older. The gray from the beard that hung from Father’s chin had made its way over his head, weaving through his thatch of dark hair. Father gripped his black hat in his hands. Mother’s long dark dress hung off her thinner frame, and Isaac suspected that under her cap and heavy bonnet, her blonde hair might have its own hint of gray.

Aaron was speaking, and at least Mother and Father were listening, albeit with tight expressions. Mother’s gaze was locked on the floor. Isaac remembered that Danielle had asked a question. “Aaron had been baptized before he left, so he’s been excommunicated. He’s shunned.
Meidung
, it’s called.”

“Excommunicated,” she repeated. “So it’s an official thing?”

“Yes. Once they’ve decided there’s no hope for the person to return, at church the bishop officially casts the person out to Satan. They’re a heathen because they didn’t want to live the Amish way.” Aaron was still speaking, and even from a distance Isaac could see the pleading in his expression.

“Wow. It sounds so…”

“Cruel?” He tried to ignore the lump in his throat. “They think it’s right. Not just my parents—the bishop and the preachers. The whole community. It’s their way. They think it’s the best way to show love. Because if you love someone, you want what’s best for them, and being Amish is best. The only way.” Although he’d been gone for months, it felt strange to talk about it in terms of
them
and
us.
Now Father was saying something, and Isaac wished he could hear.

“They’ll still talk to people who are shunned, though? Or is this a special circumstance?” Danielle asked.

“They can still talk, although they usually don’t. No one can sell Aaron anything or buy from him, or take something directly from his hand. He’d have to eat at a separate table. He’s a total outcast.”

Danielle sighed, tucking a dark strand of hair that had escaped from her bun behind her ear. “So what good does all that tough love do?”

Isaac smiled wryly at the English term. “It’s supposed to convince the person to return to Amish life, so they can find salvation again. Get to heaven. When Aaron left, I prayed morning and night that he’d come back to us. It killed me to think of him not being in heaven. Everything was so black and white. I guess it still is for our parents.”

“How’s your friend David? I asked about him, and I got the impression that you guys left town together?”

Isaac’s chest tightened as fresh longing for David washed over him, quickly followed by uncertainty and maybe anger. He nodded through the confusion. “We did. He’s on his way.”

Danielle lowered her voice. “You two are
together
together, yes?”

He nodded jerkily. They still were, weren’t they?
We have to be.
“Yes.”

“But your families have no idea? Aside from your brother there, I assume.”

Isaac nodded again, and his fingers tingled. “They can’t find out.”

She patted his arm. “Don’t worry, hon. They won’t find out from me. Would you be excommunicated too?”

Down the hall, Aaron’s voice rose, and Isaac itched to go over and find out what they were saying. But he waited and focused on Danielle again. “No. I haven’t joined the church, so they couldn’t excommunicate me. But I’d be shunned all the same even if it wasn’t official.” His breath stuttered. Even though he’d left Zebulon and hadn’t spoken to anyone there for months, the thought still sent cold terror slipping down his spine. The thought of his family knowing he was gay was even worse. “I think it would hurt them even more than this—than me leaving and being lost to the world. They could never understand my kind of sin.”

“I don’t think it’s a sin, but I understand what you’re saying.” She smiled sadly.

“Isaac.” Father’s commanding voice rang out.

Isaac’s feet moved obediently before he could even blink. Aaron stood with his arms crossed and jaw tight, and Mother had vanished, presumably back into Nathan’s room.
Nathan
. Isaac nodded as he reached the end of the hall. “Father,” he croaked.

Father’s gaze swept over him coldly from head to toe, and for the first time since he’d tried them on in the store, the English clothes felt unbearably
wrong
. He’d had a quick shower at June’s after arriving, and at least there was no gel in his too-short hair. He tugged at the collar of his jacket, almost unzipping it before realizing that using a worldly zipper in front of Father would only make things worse. He craned his neck to see into the room, but could only make out the foot of a bed.

He cleared his throat. “How is he?”

“The Lord might want him in heaven soon,” Father answered in German.

Aaron scoffed and muttered something under his breath.

Isaac choked down the bile that threatened. He struggled to find the right words in German. “But if he has a transplant? Will he get better?” He honestly wasn’t sure what a bone marrow transplant really was or how it worked. Aaron had tried to explain, but it was so hard to understand.

“If it’s God’s will,” Father answered. He stared at Isaac. “But you’ve forgotten about God. You’ve let the world take you.” His gaze flicked to Aaron. “Let yourself be led astray.”

“No. It isn’t Aaron’s fault. Father, I know it’s hard for you to understand—”

“
Hard
?” Father boomed before he glanced around and straightened his shoulders. He turned on his heel and marched into Nathan’s room.

When the door didn’t close, Isaac tentatively followed with Aaron behind him. He swallowed the urge to cry out at the sight of Nathan—pale and far too small in the bed, with plastic tubes disappearing into his nose and arm, and his brown hair plastered to his forehead. That their parents had admitted him to the modern hospital meant his prognosis was grim, but seeing him so wispy and weak still stole the breath from Isaac.

The mechanical beeping tapping out the rhythm of Nathan’s heart was the only sound in the room. That, and Nathan’s soft snores. Guilt and shame flared in Isaac as he remembered all the times he’d complained about Nathan’s sudden snoring keeping him awake. The thought that it was a symptom of the cancer ripped into Isaac.
I should have known.

The rest of them were so silent they might have been holding their breath. Mother stood by the head of Nathan’s bed with her hands clasped and knuckles white. She stared at Nathan, and Isaac willed her to look up. He thought again of the last time they’d been in this hospital after Mrs. Lantz’s buggy accident, and the way Mother had held him so tightly. There would be no hugs today.

“Mother, I’m sorry.”

Her head shot up. “Are you, Isaac?” She glanced at Aaron behind him, and her eyes glistened. “It’s not too late. You can come home.”

“Mother…” A little part of him was tempted despite everything. It would be so easy to go back to the way things were, to a time when he knew all the rules. It all seemed so easy compared to now. Of course he knew it could never be simple again, and that it never really was.

Reaching out, she took a step toward him. “Isaac, you can return home and make everything right. This was only a phase. You don’t belong in the world. You’re not like him.”

Aaron’s voice was razor thin. “My own mother can’t even say my name.”

Mother’s lips trembled. “You’ve made it clear that you will not repent your wickedness. You should beg God for redemption. If you showed true humbleness of heart and willingness to atone, you know we would welcome you home. We have prayed for it all these years. But now you’re corrupting our Isaac as well.”

“He’s not! He didn’t do anything but help me,” Isaac insisted.

“
Help
you?” Mother turned away, and her voice wavered. “You break our hearts.”

In the silence that followed, Nathan snorted and shifted on the bed, his lips parted.

“We should go get tested,” Aaron said. “That’s why we’re here. For our brother.”

Father regarded Aaron stonily. “We don’t want anything from you unless you return to the church and make up for what you’ve done. Show true remorse.”

“You wouldn’t even talk on the phone for Nathan’s sake.” Aaron’s eyes flashed. “Your precious rules are more important. I wasn’t about to let Isaac come here alone. No way. Do you even care about Nathan? I’m amazed you didn’t just concoct some home remedy from the newspaper and try to pray the cancer away. Why is okay to take English medicine with all these machines and electricity now? You’re such hypocrites.”

Father’s voice was barely a whisper. “We want our Nathan to live. Saving him is the most important thing, if God wills it. We’ve lost two sons already.”

Two sons.
Isaac ached, and had to look down at his shoes, blinking quickly.

“We’ll go talk to the doctor.” Aaron spun around and was gone.

Isaac looked between his parents, and at Nathan’s pale face. “I’ll see you tomorrow. When Nathan’s awake.” He backed up. “I’m sorry.”

“Isaac, my son.”

He stopped, his heart pounding. “Yes, Father?”

Father grasped his hand. “It isn’t too late for you. Come home. Yield to the Lord and all will be forgiven.”

“I…”

“Please, Isaac,” Mother whispered. “
Please
.”

Father was holding his hand so tightly, and Isaac could barely get the words out. “How are Ephraim and the others? Can I come see them?”

Father glanced to Mother before answering. “We’ll pray on it. Everything is already upside down with Nathan here. We don’t want to confuse them further.”

“Isaac, come on,” Aaron called from the corridor.

Gently, Isaac tugged his hand free of his father’s, bearing the weight of his parents’ disappointment with each step he took away from them.

#

“Still on West Coast time?”

Isaac jumped as June joined him by the fence. He tried to smile. “I suppose so.”

“Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you were fast asleep upstairs.”

“I tried, but…” Isaac fiddled with a knot in the old wood.

“I understand.” June squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be able to speak to Nathan first thing tomorrow.”

He nodded, because there was nothing else to say. The ground was mushy, and his sneakers were undoubtedly getting muddy, but he didn’t want to go back inside. “How are you? I didn’t even ask.”

June smiled. “I’m good. Same old, same old. Glad spring’s finally coming. I was envious of you boys out in California.” She snorted. “My friend Susan is trying to convince me to move down to Florida with her. She’s living in a retirement complex. Condos around a big pool, and right near a golf course. She does aquafit every morning and plays bingo or golf in the afternoons. She loves it.”

“It sounds…good?” Isaac wasn’t sure what kind of game bingo was, but it didn’t really matter.

“I’d hate it. All those people around every day?” June shuddered. “No thank you. I’m quite content here in my little corner of the world.”

Isaac peered at the stars glittering amid the black shadows of clouds. “It’s so quiet. I forgot how much.”

“You’re a city boy now, huh?” The breeze lifted June’s tawny hair, and she brushed it from her face.

Was he? “I don’t know. It’s been exciting. I especially like being by the sea.” He loved the salt in the air by the water, but here the country air smelled just as sweet. He’d never really appreciated it before.

“I went to the ocean once. Atlantic City in the summer. There really is nothing quite like it. I can imagine San Francisco is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah.” Isaac smiled as he thought about riding the cable car with David. “I got to do so many new things. I met new people, and they liked me. They didn’t think I was a weirdo. I always dreamed of going to different places, and now I can.”

June smiled. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah.” Isaac fiddled with a bit of old wire tied to the fence. “Fun. But it’s like…I didn’t realize until I came back here how much of a blur it’s all been. Everything is fast, fast, fast. Away from the city again, I feel like I can breathe deeper, even with everything that’s happening.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does.” She took an exaggerated breath and blew it out with a crooked smile. “There’s nothing like country air and peace and quiet to restore the soul.”

“I wish I could have them both. The city and the country, I mean.”

“Why can’t you? Plenty of people commute into cities, and even a country mouse like me enjoys visiting the big smoke sometimes. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“I guess not. I never really thought about it. I’m not even sure of all the options. The world is so big.”

“No need to choose right now. You’ve got a lot of years of living ahead of you, Isaac.”

He debated whether he should ask or not. “You don’t get lonely out here?”

“Oh, I still have friends in Warren. I miss my husband, of course.” Her gaze grew wistful. “He was a good egg, my Conrad. But I’ll see him again sooner or later. He’s holding a spot for me in heaven.”

Isaac smiled, but then a sinking sensation slithered through him. Would he go to heaven now? It was a question he’d asked himself countless times since leaving Zebulon, and now that he was back he wasn’t any closer to an answer.