Miriam's Quilt (9 page)

“A car? Is he planning to jump the fence?”

“I do not think so, although after this week, who knows? He told me he is angry at the whole world. Like he is going to explode if he doesn’t get more freedom.”

“He must be miserable.”

His tone melted Miriam’s heart and made her feel ashamed of her own reaction to Yost. Seth offered sympathy instead of condemnation.

“My friend Doug—the man who was here when you came—is a counselor. A social worker. He helps people with problems like this. Would you like me to ask him what he thinks?”

“About Yost?”

“I don’t have to tell him your brother’s name. If Yost is living with so much anger bottled up, maybe Doug can tell us how to help him.”

For some reason, Miriam felt a profound sense of relief. “I would…” She let the emotion wash over her before she continued. “I would appreciate that.”

He studied her with those slate-gray eyes that looked almost blue in the dim light of the stable. How could she have ever have thought he had an icy stare? They sat there without saying a word until he broke the connection with a reassuring grin and a quick pat of her hand.

“I am certain you did not come here to inspect the dirt on my stable floor. The filly has learned a new trick. I will show you.”

He stood up and, with one quick flick of his wrist, collapsed the folding chair. She grabbed the back of her chair to do the same, but he quickly took it from her hands.

“It is my job to take down the chairs,” he said. “It is your job to enjoy the horses. Cum.”

“Why won’t they stop fighting? I just want them to stop,” Susie said.

Miriam had found Susie sitting on her bed, covering her ears with her palms and crying.

After a morning spent with Seth’s horses, Miriam felt as if she were ready to face anything…until she opened the door to the sound of Dat and Yost yelling at each other in the kitchen. She sighed and slumped her shoulders. Until ten days ago, she had never heard Dat raise his voice in anger.

And lately, Susie couldn’t go for more than a few hours a day without bursting into tears over the most trivial matters, like what shoes to pack for her trip or the fact that Raymond refused to eat his brussels sprouts. Would her family ever be back to normal?

Miriam gazed at her sister and longed for the other Susie— young and innocent, eager for love and happy to be alive. But that wish was impossible. Susie had lost her innocence, and there was no getting it back.

Miriam sat next to Susie on the bed and put her arm around her. Susie rested her head on Miriam’s shoulder. “Things will get better with time,” Miriam said, taking Susie’s hand. “It’s only been a week and a half. In two weeks Yost will be able to leave the house and go back to work.”

“I won’t be here in two weeks.”

Miriam tried to smile even as she heard the despair in Susie’s voice. “Aren’t you glad you’ll miss the worst of it?”

“I should be here to help Yost.”

“I will be here for the both of us.”

Susie lifted her head and slid a few inches away from Miriam. “Of course. You don’t even need me.”

Miriam took a deep breath and smothered her temper. “We will always need you, Susie. But what else is to be done?”

“Nothing. You have taken care of it.”

Miriam didn’t think she deserved the bitterness. It always crept into Susie’s voice now when they talked of her going away.

Someone knocked forcefully on the front door. Miriam listened to hear if anyone downstairs would answer it. A few seconds later, another knock came. Miriam sighed. It seemed she was the only one willing to risk opening the front door these days.

She ran down the stairs and flung open the door just as Hollow Davey Herschberger walked down the porch steps. He turned back when he heard the door open. He carried a box wrapped in cheerful yellow paper and tied with an orange ribbon.

“I thought no one was home,” he said with a big smile on his face.

His expression seemed foreign. How long had it been since anyone had smiled in this house? Miriam smiled weakly, grateful for a little uplift. “Come in.”

He stomped the dust off his boots. “I hope I’m not bothering you. After all the trouble with Yost, you probably don’t want to see nobody.” He stared at Miriam as if he didn’t know what else to say on the subject. Miriam hoped he’d drop it.

Clearing his throat, he resumed smiling. “Is Susie here? I wanted to bring her a going-away gift before she leaves next week.”

“Jah. I will fetch her.”

Miriam tripped up the stairs and found Susie right where she’d left her.

“The door is for you,” she said.

“For me? Who is it?”

“Hollow Herschberger.”

Susie’s eyes widened and the ghost of a grin played at the corners of her lips—the most sparkle she had shown for weeks. She bounced from the bed, straightened her kapp, and smoothed out her dress. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

“Yes.”

Susie raced into the washroom and examined her reflection in the small mirror before pressing a damp washrag to her face.

“That’s better,” said Miriam.

Susie squinted at her reflection and pursed her lips. “It will have to do.”

Although she was tempted to follow Susie down the stairs, Miriam knew instinctively that she wasn’t wanted in the conversation. She sat on the bed and listened to the soft hum of their voices but couldn’t hear well enough to distinguish words.

Hollow and Susie worked together every day at that pretzel stand. They seemed to be good friends. What other boy was Susie so close to?

Miriam covered her eyes and massaged her forehead. Was she blind to what stood right in front of her? She had assumed that Hollow gravitated to Susie at gatherings and singeons because Susie and Hollow’s sister, Esther Rose, were friends. With her heart beating against her rib cage, Miriam clasped the bedspread in her fists to keep herself from jumping up and running downstairs to confront Hollow.

How could he have done such a thing to her sweet sister?

Taking deep breaths, Miriam willed herself to stay calm. Hollow didn’t seem to be remorseful. Maybe he didn’t know that Susie was three months’ pregnant. Miriam bit her lip. She wouldn’t be the one to tell him. Yet. But she saved that thought for another time in case she changed her mind.

She heard the front door close. A few seconds later Susie appeared, holding the yellow gift. Miriam wasn’t surprised when she burst into tears.

“He brought me a present. He said he doesn’t want me to forget Apple Lake.” Susie sat on the bed next to Miriam and fingered the curly orange ribbon on the top of the box. “I will never forget Apple Lake, but you will forget me.”

Miriam thought she would explode with indignation. “Susie, you’ve got to tell him. He’s got to do right by this child.”

Susie’s eyes could have popped out of her head. “You think Hollow is the father?” She stopped sniffling. “Hollow would never—”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Don’t ask me about the father. Hollow is ten times a better man than he is.” Susie wrapped her arms around the box and held it as if it were a baby. “I was so stupid, Miriam. He said no one would ever know what we did and that it wasn’t a sin when two people loved each other so much. He said we were two souls who shared one heart.”

“You didn’t know any better.”

“Yes, I did. I knew what he said was wrong, but I thought I loved him the way you love Ephraim. I wanted to believe him with all my heart.”

Miriam grasped Susie’s arm. “Maybe he still loves you. It’s not too late to marry and make things right.”

A bitter laugh escaped Susie’s lips. “He has not said a word to me since that night. He won’t even look at me when we pass on the street. I wouldn’t marry him now even if he asked.”

“But if he knew about the baby—”

Susie lifted her chin in stubborn determination. “He would reject both of us. I will never be taken in by him again.”

Miriam looked at her sister in surprise. Susie had never displayed such backbone.

Susie slid the ribbon from the present and tore back the paper to reveal a wooden plaque with a house and trees painted on it. Letters set against the blue of the sky said E
AST OR
W
EST
, H
OME
I
S
B
EST
.

“That’s our house,” Miriam said.

“Hollow painted it. He does scenes on milk cans and plaques for his mamm.” Susie ran her fingers over the letters and started crying again. “I don’t want to go to Canada. What if I throw up on the bus? What if the Martins are mean? What if they don’t like me? I don’t want to go.”

The weight pressing on Miriam’s heart grew heavier and heavier. Susie slowly sank to a place from which Miriam could not pull her back.

Dear Lord, what would You have me do?

* * * * *

Susie soon cried herself out. She laid her head on her pillow and fell asleep. Leaving Susie napping, Miriam made her way downstairs. The yelling had stopped almost a half hour ago, so it felt safe to enter the kitchen.

Yost sat at the table eating a piece of bread with some sort of white spread on it. He didn’t acknowledge her when she entered the room, simply frowning and staring at his lunch instead.

“Is that mayonnaise?” Miriam said.

“There is nothing to eat.”

Miriam opened a cupboard. “Would you like a tuna fish sandwich?”

“Okay.”

First retrieving Yost’s bread with one bite out of it, she then opened a can of tuna and mixed it with mayonnaise and pickle juice. She smoothed the tuna spread over the slice of bread, stacked pickles on top, and handed it to her brother. Next she pulled three hard-boiled eggs from the icebox, peeled them, cut them in half, and scooped the yolk from each one. To the yolks she added mayonnaise, salt, garlic, and chili oil before scooping the yellow paste back into the whites.

After artfully arranging the six halves on a plate, she set them in front of her brother.

He looked at them as if they’d been poisoned. “What do you want, Miriam?”

“I want you to put some meat on those bones.”

He didn’t touch the eggs. “You don’t have to try to be nice. I know what everyone thinks of me.”

“That you are too skinny?”

“That I am a terrible person. That I’ve brought shame to the family and don’t deserve to be called a Bontrager. That you wish I wasn’t your brother.”

“Last week you helped me wash all the windows in this house. You got up on that ladder and knocked down the wasp nests. And you carry coal to the basement because it’s too heavy for Mamm. Remember when Callie broke his arm and you carved that little frog out of wood to cheer him up? Or how you used to give me a hug every day and tell Susie she’s beautiful?”

Yost turned his face from Miriam.

“I never wish you weren’t my brother.”

“Only when I behave the way you want me to. But as soon as I slip up, all that love flies out the window. What if I do buy a car or jump the fence? I won’t be so lovable after that.”

Miriam sat beside Yost and laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t want to shoulder the responsibility for your past and future choices, and I am not going to try to drag you back to the straight and narrow. I love you no matter what you do or how bad you think you are.”

Yost pulled his arm out from under Miriam’s hand. His expression didn’t change, but he picked up an egg and popped it into his mouth. “I like them spicy.”

“I want to understand you, little brother. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Tell me about the drugs.”

Yost frowned. “Nothing to tell.”

“Then tell me why you want a car.”

Yost stared at his plate. “Joe and I were at the movies once and there was a boy with a really nice red Mustang convertible. The top was down, and he was laughing and having fun with his friends. How can something that makes someone so happy be bad? He can go wherever he wants. He’s free.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“I have all these rules that I must follow, but they don’t make me happy, only angry. No one understands how it is except Joe. Joe met a man who told him he could make lots of money selling marijuana and no one would ever suspect two Amish kids. I didn’t do it to hurt anybody or get anybody hooked on drugs, Miriam. I wanted the money for a car.”

“I know. You wouldn’t hurt a soul.”

“I thought my life was over when they took us to that detention center.” He buried his face in his hands. “I never, never want to go there again.”

Seth was right. Yost’s own conscience would punish him far better than anything anyone could say. Miriam scooted close and put her arm around Yost. “I’m sure it was terrible.”

Yost wiped his eyes. “Dat hates me. I see it in his eyes whenever he looks at me. Like he wishes I had never been born. I wish that sometimes too.”

“Dat is afraid of losing you. He feels helpless, and so he gets angry because he doesn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t be this upset if he loved you less.”

“I used to believe he loved me, but that was when I was younger and didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Nothing like this has ever happened to us or to anyone we know in the community. Our family, including you, is trying to do our best when we don’t have any idea what to do. Do you think you can forgive Dat’s mistakes and my mistakes while we try to figure it out?”

Yost ran his finger around the edge of his plate. “I can’t be perfect like you, Miriam.”

“That is a ridiculous notion. None is perfect but God.” She snatched the last egg and stuffed it into her mouth.

“Hey!”

“That’s what you get for tempting my humility.” Suddenly her eyes teared up, and she coughed until she was forced to jump up and pour herself a glass of milk. “Hot, hot!”

“That’s what you get for stealing one of my eggs.”

Miriam fanned her face with her hand and stuck out her tongue. “I can’t believe I made these.”

“They’ll clear out your sinuses.”

She took another swig of milk. “I hope you enjoyed those, because we are almost out of chili oil. I bought that bottle in La Crosse, and I don’t know where I can find anything like it in Apple Lake.”

“If I had a car, I could drive you to La Crosse for shopping every week.”

Icy fingers of disappointment curled around Miriam’s heart. “You are never going to have a car, Yost.”

With a flick of his wrist, Yost slid his plate across the table to Miriam. She caught it before it fell to the floor. He stood up, scowled, and pinned her with a fiery glare. “I’m not perfect like you, Miriam. I never will be.”

A hopeless, sinking ache filled Miriam. Yost kept insisting that she was perfect, and for the first time, Miriam realized that he meant it not as a flippant insult, but as a condemnation of himself. She had admonished him harshly, and now every time she lectured or scolded him or even tried to influence his behavior, she made him feel smaller.

She was completely helpless to make things better. For anybody.