Huckleberry Summer (19 page)

She picked up Estee’s book and tried to read it, but after ten minutes, she was still on the same page and couldn’t remember a word she’d read. For another half hour, she lay on her bed and listened to the hiss of the propane lantern on the table. That faint hiss was usually a comforting sound, like waves lapping the shore at the lake or fire crackling in the hearth. But tonight the hiss only served to mark the slow passage of time.

She ventured out of her room, slinked down the stairs, and checked the clock on the wall. Eleven.

Where in the world was Estee?

She said she’d be back in half an hour. Had the police picked her up?

Lily’s lungs constricted as if a giant snake meant to squeeze her until she suffocated.

Pacing back and forth in the kitchen and checking the clock every thirty seconds did nothing to calm her. She tiptoed back upstairs to her room. The window faced the pasture. Estee wasn’t likely to take that route home, but Lily doused the lantern and opened the curtains. Her eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of movement. If Floyd got his bike back, would he ride away and leave Estee to walk home by herself?

If he ever did anything so despicable, Lily would put dead mice in his boots every day for a month. He would deserve worse.

She took a deep breath and stared out the window. Floyd would never leave Estee by herself like that.

When the scene outside hadn’t changed for twenty minutes, Lily paced around her room. She counted 193 passes before she gave up and went downstairs to peek at the clock again. Almost midnight.

The panic rose in her throat. Should she wake Mama and Dat? Estee would be in serious trouble. Dat might turn against Floyd just like he had rejected Aden, and forbid Estee from dating him.

Lily thought of never seeing Aden again, and she wanted to cry. The ruination of all Estee’s hopes and dreams would not be on her shoulders. She would not alert their parents.

She sank into Dat’s favorite chair where she would have a good view of the clock. Walking up and down the stairs to check the time would only risk waking Mama and Dat.

At twelve-thirty, Lily bowed her head and prayed for her sister. She prayed for Floyd and his bike. She prayed that Randy McCann had left the garage unlocked, and she prayed for Floyd’s bobby pin. She wanted to be thorough.

Lily started awake and groaned at the nasty crick in her neck. It took her a minute to get her bearings and focus on Mama’s clock.

Three
A.M.

She jumped to her feet and almost lost her balance. Maybe Estee had sneaked in through the window hours ago. Lily took the stairs as quickly as she could without making any noise and crept into her bedroom. No Estee.

Lily thought she might faint. Estee was certainly in trouble. What could she do?

She thought of the bravest person she knew. The boy who wasn’t afraid of going to jail or being reprimanded by the bishop. She could get Aden. Aden wouldn’t be afraid of the McCanns. He’d probably jump up and down at a chance to be arrested for stealing Floyd’s bike back.

Lily held her breath. If she wanted Aden’s help she’d have to saddle up Sandy and ride to Huckleberry Hill in the middle of the night. Not only would it be a terrifying ride, but Dat would be furious if he found out.

She was going to throw up—truly throw up this time.

Before she had time to work herself into a frenzy, she heard the lovely creak of the second porch step. That step whined every time someone walked on it. With heart aflutter, she shuffled quickly to the door and opened it. Estee stood poised to open it from the outside.

Both her bonnet and kapp were missing and tufts of her hair stuck out of her braid like weeds. A thick layer of dirt dusted her navy dress. She limped into the room as if she couldn’t hold herself up much longer. Floyd stood just outside the door, his fingers wrapped around the brim of his hat. Weariness and concern seemed to be a permanent part of his face.

Aden stood on the sidewalk behind him, clutching the handlebars of Floyd’s bike. Lily’s heart pounded so loudly, she thought it might wake her dat. Aden’s bright smile was better suited for a day of sunshine and rainbows. He winked at Lily and then turned and sauntered down the sidewalk, rolling Floyd’s bike with him.

“What happened?”

Floyd inclined his head in Estee’s direction. “See that she gets into bed. We’ve had a rough night.”

He shut the door softly before Lily had time to ask any more questions. Estee had already started ambling up the stairs. Lily caught up and hooked her elbow through Estee’s. “Are you okay? I was so worried. I didn’t know what to do.”

They shuffled into their room, and Lily silently closed the door behind them. She struck a match and lit the lantern. They had been extremely blessed. Mama and Dat would never know.

Lily took Estee’s nightclothes from the hook. “Here, let me help you get back into your nightgown.”

Estee’s legs seemed to give out, and she sank to her bed. “No, thank you.”

“You look exhausted. Let me help.”

“Oh,
now
you want to help,” Estee snapped. She sounded all the angrier because she whispered. “Where were you when I needed your help five hours ago?”

“I’m sorry, Estee. I didn’t know. You said you’d be right back.”

“We sneaked into the garage but couldn’t find Floyd’s bike. Then Randy McCann came in, and we hid behind some boxes for an hour while he worked on his car. We didn’t even dare to breathe for fear he’d hear us.”

“I knew it would be trouble.”

“Only because you weren’t there to help. He didn’t know it, but he locked us in. If you had been keeping watch, you could have helped us get out of there.”

Lily’s throat constricted with a sharp pang of guilt.

Estee pulled off her shoes and stockings. “Go to bed, Lily. One of us ought to be fresh for morning chores.”

“How did you get out? Why was Aden here?”

Estee sighed as if she were losing patience with Lily’s curiosity. “I crawled out the tiny garage window. Floyd couldn’t make it through.” She lifted her dress to reveal an ugly red welt on her thigh.

Lily gasped.

“I scraped the skin all the way down my leg.”

“Oh, Estee.”

“I couldn’t do anything with the padlock, so I ran back here, got Sandy from the barn, and rode to Huckleberry Hill to get Aden. I knew he’d help me.”

Lily felt as if she would explode with gratitude. Aden would always come, even if she couldn’t find the courage to help her own sister. She sat and put her arms around Estee’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Estee.” Tears of relief mingled with tears of regret ran down her cheeks. “So sorry.”

Estee melted and pressed her forehead against Lily’s. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh with you.” She planted a kiss on Lily’s wet cheek. “You must have been worried sick. All is well now.”

Lily touched the skin surrounding Estee’s scrape. “I don’t think I have bandage big enough for that.”

Estee giggled quietly. “Mama will be suspicious if we use the entire tube of ointment.”

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Oy anyhow, something awful.”

“I will find some gauze pads. Tomorrow we can buy something bigger at the drugstore.”

“A gauze pad the size of a tablecloth,” Estee said.

Lily stood. “So you found Floyd’s bike. That’s good news.”

Estee lay back on her pillow. “Do you want to know where it was?”

Lily nodded.

Estee’s lips twitched upward. “We found it propped against the wall
outside
the garage. I’m sure glad Floyd brought that bobby pin.”

Lily clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from waking her parents with her riotous laughter.

Aden pushed Floyd’s bike down the sidewalk until Floyd caught up to him. “Is Estee going to be okay?”

Floyd nodded. “I never should have asked her to come with me. If her dat ever found out, he would grind me up and eat me for supper.”

“I’m glad Lily did not come. I would never want to see her hurt.”

Floyd’s face glowed red in the dim light of the moon. “If I were anybody but me, I would grind me up and eat me for breakfast. I should never have taken a risk with my girl like that.”

“Nae, you shouldn’t have.”

Floyd took the handlebars of his bike from Aden. “I should have come straight to your house. You’re always getting into trouble anyway.” Floyd coughed. “I mean, not always. I haven’t heard that you’ve gotten into trouble here in Bonduel. I mean, not that anyone is gossiping about you.”

“What do people say about me?”

“I don’t listen to gossip.”

Aden smiled to himself. “I believe you.”

“I heard about the bear, but that was only from Estee, and she heard it straight from the horse’s mouth because Lily told her—not that I’m comparing Lily to a horse. It’s just an expression.”

Poor Floyd always talked himself into a corner.

“You’ll be happy to know,” Aden said, “that I haven’t been arrested once since I’ve been here.”

“It’s the weather,” Floyd said. “It was too hot to make mischief.” He coughed again as if the words were escaping his throat without his permission. “But I’m certain that you will not be making mischief now that it’s autumn time. I didn’t mean that you are bent on troublemaking other times of the year.”

“Let me put your mind at ease. I am not bent on making trouble in any season.”

“Nobody does any carryings-on in the winter. Too cold.”

They reached the road. “Do you need help home with your bike?” Aden asked.

“No, denki. It will take ten minutes to ride it home.”

Floyd turned east, and Aden turned west.

“Thank you for coming, Aden. I knew you would help us out of that pickle. I told Estee you could pick that lock with your eyes closed. If you ever need a picture of a barn painted on one of your milk cans, I’m your man.”

Aden shook Floyd’s hand. “And if you ever need help escaping a shed again, I’ll be ready.”

Floyd gave Aden a halfhearted smile before riding away on his bike.

Aden gazed down the road, arched his back, and massaged a knot at the place where his shoulder met his neck. It must have been four in the morning. He’d be up milking in another half hour. Might as well not go back to bed.

The countryside was always peaceful, but in the early hours of the morning, Aden felt as if he were the only person in the world. Quiet sounds of the darkness crammed his ears—the pleasant hum of chirping crickets, a breeze lightly teasing the trees, and the sound of gravel as it crunched under his boots.

He turned to look at Lily’s house. Even that brief glimpse he caught of her at the door tonight was heaven. He loved her hair, especially when it fell carelessly down her back, teasing him to touch it. When he closed his eyes he could feel her presence, as if she had crawled into his bones and taken up residence there.

Had the mailbox pleased her dat?

Aden hadn’t even noticed it when they brought Estee home. That’s how hopelessly his head was filled with Lily.

Retracing his steps, he looked to the forsythia bush where he had dug the hole. He rubbed his eyes, deciding he must really be tired if he couldn’t remember where he had put the mailbox.

No, he was certain . . .

He squatted on the ground to get a closer look in the dim light. A layer of sawdust covered a small mound of dirt. He brushed away the dirt with his fingers and uncovered a stump, flush with the ground, that used to be the mailbox post.

Aden fingered the scar on his eyebrow where an angry man had cracked him with the butt of a rifle. That pain paled in comparison to what he experienced at the destruction of all his hard work.

He’d given every drop of sweat for Lily. For Lily’s dat. Jacob worked for seven years for Rachel, but the years seemed only a few days because of his love for her. It was the same with Lily and the mailbox. He would be happy to dig a thousand holes and carry a million tons of cement to please Lily.

But apparently, it didn’t please her father.

A groan escaped his lips. Her dat hadn’t merely cut down the mailbox. He had sent a clear message.

Aden had been cut down to size and dismissed. Like the mailbox.

At that moment, Aden almost wished he were a mailbox. Mailboxes didn’t have feelings. They didn’t feel as if their hearts had been ripped out of their chests. They were already empty.

It took him an hour to get home. He wasn’t in any hurry. The cows would be waiting for him no matter what time he arrived. Pilot and Sparky sprawled on the porch and didn’t even lift an ear when Aden passed.

Mammi had already lit the propane lantern in the kitchen, no doubt making tofu omelets for breakfast. Aden trudged into the house to wash up before milking.

Mammi turned and looked up from her cooking. Oatmeal. It was a gute day for oatmeal, bland and mushy.