Trading Secrets (16 page)

I laugh. “I know some English who do the same thing.”

The next vehicle is a small white car that slows to a stop, and when I spot my dad waving from behind the wheel, I practically jump with joy, I'm so glad to see him. As I run around to greet him, I feel like I'm on the verge of tears. He looks equally happy as he steps out of the car and gathers me into his arms. “My little girl!”

“Dad!” I exclaim. “It's so good to see you!”

After a long hug, he holds me at arm's length to examine me, grinning as he uses a forefinger to wipe a smudge of something from the tip of my nose. “You look like a real farmer, Micah.”

“Zach is the real farmer.” I laugh as I point at Zach, who suddenly looks shy. “He and his dad just let me pretend to be a farmhand for a few days.” I take a moment to do a real introduction.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Knight,” Zach says politely.

“Just call me Will,” Dad tells him as he opens the front passenger door for me to get in. “‘Mr. Knight' makes me think you're talking to my father.”

“Micah wasn't pretending to help us,” Zach clarifies from the backseat. “She was a hard worker. Even my daed admitted it.”

“That's nice to hear.” Dad gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine. “Let's get this show on the road—the friendly skies are waiting.”

I turn around to peer at Zach in the back. “Are you nervous about being in a car?” I ask.

He grins. “Not at all.”

“Have you been in a car before?” Dad manages to pull off a U-turn on the narrow road.

“
Ja
. A while back when my friend Aaron came home to visit at Christmas. He took me for a ride late at night. It was fun.”

As Dad drives us toward town, he makes small talk about the weather and whatnot, and it's not long before Zach is asking my dad all kinds of questions about his plane and flying and how hard it is to get a pilot's license. “I read that learning to use the instruments is the hardest part of becoming a pilot and that some pilots rely too much on the airplane's computers when they use their autopilot.”

“Sounds like you've done some research on this,” Dad tells Zach, giving me a curious glance, like this Amish boy isn't exactly what he expected.

“I have,” Zach admits as Dad turns in at the rural airstrip. “I like to read about things that interest me.”

“Like flying.” I point out the obvious.

“
Ja
. And science and geography too.”

“Interesting.” Dad stops the car in front of a small building that appears to be the main office. “Here we are. Davis Field in all its glory.” He chuckles as he turns off the engine. “I'll go make sure the freight's loaded and that we're clear for takeoff.”

As Dad goes inside, Zach and I stroll around, checking out the small planes parked near the hangars. I start to tell him the names but am surprised to discover he knows as much as I do—maybe more.

“This is the plane we'll be flying in,” I announce when we come to the company plane.

“But this isn't your dad's Cessna,” he points out.

“That's his private plane. This is what he flies for work—to make deliveries.”

“This is a very nice plane,” he says with admiration. “Is it a Piper?”

“A Turbo Lance,” I tell him.

“It's beautiful.”

I can't help but grin to hear Zach calling Dad's plane beautiful, although I must admit I think it's a pretty cool plane myself. “And it can really go,” I say. I tell Zach about the air freight service that Dad and his partner Rick established more than twenty years ago and how they started out with one plane but now have eight planes and as many pilots that fly special deliveries all over the Great Lakes area. “It was Dad and Rick's way to ensure that they always had jobs—jobs they love.”

“Ready to go?” Dad has a carton from a medical facility in hand as he joins us.

“
Ja
,” Zach says eagerly.

“Ever done a safety check?” Dad asks.

Zach shakes his head no as Dad loads the box into the back of the plane. I watch on in amusement while Dad shows a very impressed Zach how a safety check is performed.

“You do that before every flight?” Zach asks with interest after they're done.

“You bet.” Dad opens the passenger side door. “Why don't you sit in the copilot's seat,” he offers.

“Do you mind?” Zach asks me.

I laugh as I climb into the back. “Not at all. I've ridden up there plenty of times.”

I get myself and the kitty carrier strapped in while Dad helps Zach with the seatbelt in front. I listen to their
conversation, thankful that Dad is taking time to explain everything to Zach, almost like he's giving him a flying lesson. It's obvious by Zach's responses that he has read up on aviation—and that he's a quick study—because he seems to understand much of what Dad's saying. Finally we're taxiing toward the end of the only runway and Dad is talking on the radio, getting clearance from the control “tower.”

“Ready for takeoff?” Dad asks us as he revs the engine. Zach nods, then turns around to give me a slightly nervous smile, but his eyes are shining so brightly, I can tell that he's thrilled at the thought of going up into the air. I can't help but wonder what Rachel would say if she could see us now. I almost wish she could!

M
aybe it's just my imagination, but I think I can feel Zach's exhilaration as the plane leaves the runway and shoots up into the sky, defying gravity. It's like his excitement is palpable within the cockpit. I suspect that Dad feels it too.

“Amazing!”
Zach says loud enough to be heard over the engine noise. He's peering out the side window now, looking down with wide eyes as the building and cars and trees below get smaller. “Truly amazing!”

“Want to see where you live?” Dad asks him.

“
Ja
,” Zach answers with even more enthusiasm.

Soon we are flying over Zach's farm, and I point out the dark brown fields. “That's where we planted corn,” I tell Dad with almost as much excitement as Zach has displayed over his first flight. “They don't look that big from up here, but trust me, they are.”

Dad laughs, circling the farm twice at the lowest legal altitude. Low enough that his engine can probably be heard by anyone down there. I don't see anyone on the ground, but I wonder if they might glance up from their work. I wonder
if they would have any idea that Zach and I are up here. Probably not. And it's probably for the best. I hate to think of what his parents would say if they knew.

“Anything else you'd like to see before we return to Davis?” Dad slowly turns the plane around, heading it back toward the airfield.

“Do you have to go back to Davis?” Zach asks him. “Do you need to land there to pick up anything?”

“No. My freight's all loaded.” Dad frowns at Zach. “But I do need to take you back so we can get home. I arranged to borrow the car again so you don't have to walk. That was the plan, wasn't it?”

“What if I don't
want
to go back?”

Dad tosses me a worried glance.

“Would it be all right if I flew to Cleveland with you?” Zach blurts out.

Dad's brow creases with fatherly concern. “What will you do in Cleveland?”

“I don't know for sure. I thought maybe I could get a job. I'm a hard worker.”

Dad rubs his chin. “Is that really what you want? To go to Cleveland?”

“
Ja
. I think so.”

“You don't want to go home? Back to the farm?”

“No,” Zach declares with certainty. “I'm done being a farmer.”

“Really?” I lean forward to peer at him. “Have you given this enough thought, Zach? I know you were considering different things, but you seemed undecided. Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“Ja,” he declares. “I do.” He turns to Dad. “Do you mind?”

Dad shrugs. “You're eighteen, right?”

“Ja.”

“But you didn't bring anything with you,” I point out. “You didn't pack a bag.”

“It doesn't matter.” He gives a black suspender a playful tug. “I wouldn't want to dress like this in the English world anyway.”

“Okay then.” Dad lets out a low whistle like he can't believe he's agreeing to this. “If you're absolutely certain.”

“I am!” Zach confirms.

“Next stop Cleveland.” Dad veers the plane to the right, heading in a north-northeast direction. He takes a moment to radio his change in plans to the people at Davis Field, and just like that, we're on our way.

Mostly we fly over farmland, but Dad and I take turns showing Zach points of interest on the ground, and Zach asks lots of questions. Because the Piper is a pretty fast plane, it's not long before we're coming into the Cleveland area, and I can tell that Zach is astounded at how many houses there are so close together. Of course, he hasn't seen anything yet.

“How can so many people live in one place?” he asks as we continue on over the city limits. “Don't they bump into each other a lot?”

“Sometimes they do,” Dad admits.

“They get used to it,” I tell him as I check on the kittens, who are peacefully curled up together and sleeping. “But it's a lot different than what you're used to.”

“We keep most of our planes at Burke Lakefront Airport,” Dad tells Zach after he's received clearance from down below.

“We're not landing at Cleveland Hopkins International?” Zach asks.

“No.” Dad's lining us up with the strip. “Not Hopkins.”

“But this airport is really close to Cleveland,” I explain as we start to descend. I point out Lake Erie, and Zach is suitably impressed by its enormity. “Get ready to land,” I say as I lean back into my seat.

I can tell by how rigidly Zach is sitting that he's a little nervous about landing, but based on his general enthusiasm about flying, I suspect he's enjoying it too. Soon our wheels touch the ground, and with just a little bump due to the wind, we are smoothly on the ground. I can see Zach's shoulders relaxing. “That was great,” he tells Dad. “You're an excellent pilot.”

Dad smiles as he taxis down the runway. I can tell he genuinely likes Zach. For some reason that makes me really happy, but I'm feeling concerned too. What on earth is Zach going to do in Cleveland? I can't even begin to imagine how lost he's going to feel there. Besides that, I know he doesn't have any money. Where will he stay? How will he eat? And with only the clothes on his back? Well, the whole thing sounds crazy.

Before long, Dad comes to a stop in front of the business office in the hangar, and Zach and I help him carry some of the boxes inside. While Zach and I are stacking them in the storage room, Dad is checking his voice mail messages.

“Micah,” he says when we come out. “I've still got stuff to take care of here, and I think it's going to take a couple more hours. I drove the car today since I knew I was picking you up. How about if you drive yourself and Zach and the kittens home? You mind?”

“Not at all.” I toss Zach a mischievous grin. “As long as you don't mind.”

Zach makes what seems a forced smile, and I wonder if he's
regretting his rash decision to come to Cleveland. Really, he should be regretting it. What is he going to do here anyway? “Uh, is there a—a washroom around here?” he asks nervously.

I point him in the right direction, but as soon as he's gone, I confide my worries to my dad, explaining about how he spent all his money on a vet bill. “Do I just drop him off somewhere in Cleveland and leave him?”

“Just take him home,” Dad says as he hands me the car keys. “He can have the spare room tonight, and we'll sort it all out tomorrow.” He reaches for his phone.

“Really?” I try not to act too stunned. My dad is allowing a boy to spend the night with us? For some reason this seems shocking.

Dad replaces the phone, and his brows arch with curiosity. “Or is that a problem?”

“A problem?” I act naïve.

“I figure I can trust a nice Amish boy like Zach with my only daughter, but I could be wrong.” Dad studies me carefully. “Are you and Zach romantically involved, Micah? Is there something I need to know?”

That makes me laugh. “No way, Dad. In fact”—I lower my voice—“I honestly thought he was about to ask Rachel to marry him.”

“Rachel?” Dad looks thoroughly confused now.

“Never mind,” I say as I hear Zach's footsteps down the hall. “I'll fill you in later.”

“Okay.” Dad reaches for the phone again. “I'll see you in a couple of hours.”

I pick up my backpack and Zach gets the cat carrier. “Want me to order takeout?” I ask Dad as I lead Zach toward the back door.

“Sure. Whatever you like.”

As we're loading my stuff into the car, Zach looks puzzled.

“What's wrong?” I ask as I get behind the wheel. “Worried about my driving?”

“No. But how will your father get home if you have his car?”

“RTA,” I say as I start the engine.

“What?”

“Oh, that's Cleveland's transit system—you know, like a train. He usually takes it to work. Cheaper than gas.”

“Oh,
ja
,
ja
. That makes sense. One other question.”

“Just one?” I point to his seatbelt. “First you have to buckle up. It's the law.”

“Oh,
ja
.” He fumbles to fasten it.

“Your other question?” I check my mirror and back out.

“What is takeout?”

I laugh. “Takeout is how a lot of the English eat a lot of the time.”

“It's food?”

“It's food that someone else cooks. You call on the phone and place an order, and some of the places even deliver it to you.”

“Oh,
ja
. We have that too.”

I turn to look at him as I wait for the light to change. “Huh?”

“If your mamm is sick or has just had a baby, sometimes a neighbor will bring food to your house. Not as much after your sisters are big enough to cook. But when I was little that happened a lot.”

“Ah.” I suppress the urge to laugh. “Amish takeout. I get it.”

As I drive on the expressway, I can tell that Zach is uneasy about the rush hour traffic. He's alternately clutching the dashboard and armrest and pointing to vehicles that I'm sure he thinks are going to collide with us. To be perfectly honest, I'm a little uncomfortable myself. After spending a few days in calm and car-less Amishland, the Cleveland 5:00 commute feels pretty crazy busy to me. To distract both of us, I question Zach about his family.

“Won't they be worried about you when you don't come home tonight?”

“No.” He urgently points to a dump truck that's cutting in front of me from the right.

“I find that hard to believe.” I slow down, then cautiously change lanes. “You just disappear without a word, and your family won't wonder what happened to you? Really?”

“
Ja
, they probably would be worried, except that I left Daed a note. I put it in the barn, right next to Molly's medicine.”

“Oh.” For a few minutes we drive in silence, and I focus on the traffic and getting us to the next exit and a less hectic highway.

“Where are you going to leave me?” Zach asks as I'm turning off the busy expressway. “In the city?”

“I'm taking you home with me,” I say nonchalantly, as if I'm in the habit of taking eighteen-year-old boys home with me all the time.
Not.

“What?” Zach looks at me in disbelief.

“Dad's orders,” I inform him.

“Your father is going to let me stay at your house?”

“At least for tonight,” I explain. “We'll have to figure the rest of it out later.”

Zach lets out what sounds like a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

“We're not too far from home now.” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I wait at another set of lights.

“I think driving a car must be a lot harder than flying a plane,” Zach says as I'm finally turning onto the street for our condo. “From the air you can see where you're going. Down here, it seems like you could get lost.”

“You probably would,” I admit. “Until you figured things out.”

“All those cars out there on that big road, all driving so close together, so fast.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I still can't believe no one crashed into you when you were driving, Micah. Not that you weren't doing it right. It just looked impossible to me.”

“I kind of felt like that too, the first time I drove on the expressway. I was pretty freaked.”

“
Ja
. I would rather fly a plane than drive a car. It's a lot less crowded in the sky.” Zach seems a lot more relaxed as I slowly drive down our relatively quiet street.

“We live in a condo,” I explain as our development comes into sight. “That's short for condominium. It's like a house that's attached to a bunch of other houses with nothing in between them and only a little bit of grass out front. Very low maintenance for the homeowners.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It's completely unlike your farm, as you'll soon see. We used to live in a regular house with a real yard and all that. Before my mom died. Our suburb was about thirty minutes from the city. But it was hard on both of us . . . I mean, being in that house without Mom. It was like we didn't know what
to do with ourselves most of the time. And I ended up being home alone a lot. Then gas got expensive, and Dad found this condo closer to work, which really saves on his commute, plus it's close to the transit.”

Zach looks slightly confused, and I realize I'm probably throwing too much information his way. Or perhaps he's just overwhelmed by everything. Worst-case scenario, he's already regretting his decision to defect.

I pull into our carport, turn off the engine, and smile at him. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

He looks around with interest. “I always wondered what your home was like, Micah. Now I actually get to see it.”

I point down the street as I get my backpack. “My friend Lizzie lives just a couple blocks from here.”

“Will I get to meet her?”

I laugh. “Well, if you don't meet her, she probably won't be speaking to me.” I point to the kitty carrier. “Besides, we'll need to get her kitten to her.”

“Should we do that now?”

I look down the street, then back toward home. “We can do it later,” I say. “I need to crash in my own house first.”

“Crash in?” He frowns. “Are you locked out?”

I chuckle as I dig my key out of a backpack pocket. “No. Crashing in a place is more like landing.”

“Oh,
ja
.” He nods. “Like a crash landing.”

I laugh. “Yeah, kinda like that.”

I hurry up the walk to the front door, imagining how great it's going to feel to have a nice long shower with no concern that someone else needs to use the bathroom. “Man, it's good to be home!” I declare as I unlock the door, but we're barely inside when I catch an unsettling glimpse of Zach's
worried face. I can tell he's totally out of his comfort zone. Poor guy, I hope he's not sorry he went AWOL. If he does regret his hasty decision, I hope he can undo it without alienating his entire family. As I set down my backpack, I'm hit with a completely new concern—I'm guessing they will all blame me for this.