Huckleberry Harvest (31 page)

He handed the jar to Noah who, after only a second’s hesitation, took a drink and found the applesauce pleasantly sweet and decidedly lumpy. Not quite as smooth as water but tasty enough.

Felty took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth. “Do you know the Kaufmanns?”

“Mose and Beverly? Jah. Mose is one of the ministers in the other district.”

“Did you know their son died in a car accident last year because he was driving drunk?”

“Everybody knows it. I went to the funeral. They had a benefit supper for his widow and children.”

“How do you think Mose felt when it happened?”

Noah shrugged. “I’m sure he grieved like any fater would grieve for a son.”

Felty nodded sadly. “After that, did you keep your distance from Mose and his family?”

“Why would I do that?”

“What his son did was shameful, a humiliation to the family. Don’t you think his family should have hung their heads in shame for what their son did?”

“Nae,” Noah said. “They are members of the community. They have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Felty took another drink of applesauce. “But do you think less of them for raising such a son?”

Noah blew out a puff of air as he realized where Felty was headed with his questions. “I don’t think less of anybody.”

“Amos Bieler’s daughter ran off with an Englischer. Matthew Zook used drugs. What about their families? Should they be shunned?”

The ever-present shame overwhelmed him. He wished he’d never met Mandy Helmuth. Noah sank to the ground and sat with his back propped against the wagon wheel. “How much did she tell you?”

“Who? Anna?”

“Mandy. What did she tell you about my dat?”

Felty grunted and slowly sank to the ground. “A middle-aged man should not sit on the ground like this. I might not be able to get up.” He scooted next to Noah against the wagon wheel. “Now, you were saying something about Mandy.”

Noah didn’t want to talk about it. He already knew the answer. “It wonders me what she told you about my dat.”

“Mandy hasn’t told me anything about your dat.”

“Oh,” Noah said. “I thought she would have told you everything.”

Felty laid a hand on Noah’s knee. “Noah, I see your dat every Monday, so I suppose I know better than most what is going on, but it don’t take a fool to see that your dat is struggling. It wasn’t a secret the reason your mamm left him. The Plain people are the biggest gossips in the world. News spreads faster than dandelions on the wind.”

Noah tightened the muscles of his jaw. “I know.”

“When your mamm left, she asked the whole district to watch out for you. But you haven’t wanted any watching out for.”

Noah traced his finger in the dirt at his feet. “I had hoped everyone would forget about our troubles or think that things aren’t so bad anymore. Most people have forgotten. If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t hire me to do jobs for them or treat me like I’m one of them.”

“You are one of us.”

“Not anymore. I’m not worthy to be one of you. My shame follows me like a bad smell.”

The line between Felty’s brows deepened into a furrow. “Noah, it’s not your shame.”

“Yes, it is. If I were a better son, my dat would stop drinking. If I were a better son, my mamm wouldn’t have left. Noah Mischler can’t cast the beam out of his own eye.”

Felty folded his arms and shook his head. “Jesus chose all twelve of his apostles. Shouldn’t he have been more careful about choosing his friends? Is it his fault that Judas betrayed him?”

“Of course not. It was Judas’s own evil choice.”

“It is not your fault that your fater drinks.”

The hole in his heart widened until he could have parked a buggy in it. He bowed his head and rubbed his eyes so the tears wouldn’t start. “After little Edi died, he came home with five bottles of whiskey. He went through the first four in a matter of days. Mamm hid the last one. When he ran out of liquor, he lay in bed sobbing. The whiskey seemed to calm him down, so I found the hidden bottle and gave it to him. I wanted the wailing to stop, but I did a horrible thing.”

Felty nudged Noah with his elbow. “Noah, one bottle of whiskey didn’t start your dat down that road. You were how old? Fifteen? Sixteen? You showed your dat some compassion in the only way you knew how.”

“I lost Mamm because of it.”

“How long are you going to punish yourself for the sins of your father? Your dat drove your mamm away, not you. You have been a gute son to him. There is no shame in that.”

Noah took a deep breath, hoping it would ease the pain in his chest. It didn’t. “I have tried to do everything right so people would forget about my dat. I think it was working. But now because of Mandy, everybody knows the worst.”

Felty raised his finger in the air. “Now we come to it.”

“To what?”

“The reason you’re pushing Mandy away from you. She knows too much about you, and you’re ashamed that she knows.”

Noah turned away from Felty’s perceptive gaze. “What I think about Mandy doesn’t really matter. She’ll be gone in a week.”

“And you’re not happy about it, no matter what you want to tell yourself.”

“I’m more than happy to see her go.” His heart flopped over in his chest. How could he convince Felty if he didn’t really believe it himself? “Before Mandy came to town, nobody knew about the bars and the black eyes. My business was my business. Now I’ll be the boy people talk about behind their hands at gatherings. People will think less of me because my fater has sunk so low.”

Felty inclined his head. “Maybe they will. One thing’s for sure. You’re so afraid of the humiliation that you pretend there isn’t a problem, and everybody pretends right along with you. This isn’t Mandy’s fault. You think you’re gute at hiding the truth, when really, everybody knows about your dat. They just pretend not to know because talking about your dat makes you upset. But, Noah, the very people you are trying to hide from are the very people who could help you if you let them.”

Bitterness filled his mouth. Shame threatened to engulf him like a dead tree in a raging forest fire. “I don’t need anybody’s help.”

“Now you’re being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.”

Fine. He’d hold on to his dignity any way he could. Mandy would never humiliate him again. That was all he cared.

“Ask God. He will show you the way if you let Him. Maybe He’ll show you the way back to Mandy.”

Anna stuck her head out of the door of the warehouse. “Noah, there you are.” She tiptoed out the door and closed it behind her. “Remember that thing about chicken poop? It’s getting bad in there. Would you mind taking a look at this egg sorter? I’m afraid it’s an emergency.”

Noah jumped to his feet even though he felt as heavy as a whole truck full of chicken poop. He didn’t want to talk to Felty any more. He wanted to finish his work, go home, and be left alone.

He was halfway to the warehouse when Felty called him back. “I know you’re irritated with me,” he said, “but if you don’t lend a hand, I’ll never rise from the ground again.”

Chester wagged his tail so hard he fanned up a breeze. His enthusiastic greeting usually put Noah in a good mood, no matter how bad a day it had been, but he didn’t think he’d be in a good mood ever again. “Hey, boy,” Noah said, patting his dog on the head and hanging his jacket on the hook in the hall.

Shadows from the floor lamps danced on the walls as Noah stuck his head into the kitchen. Yost stood at the stove tending to something in their frying pan. He glanced at Noah. “It’s fried chicken.”

“You know how to make fried chicken?”

“There’s chow chow, corn, and yams with brown sugar. It’s almost ready.”

Noah cocked an eyebrow. “You know how to make fried chicken?”

“I didn’t make it.”

“Kentucky Fried?”

Yost gave Noah a smug glance. “Nae, homemade. But I promised the cook that I would keep it a secret because she said you wouldn’t want to eat it if you knew who cooked it.”

Noah wanted to scowl. He opted for a disinterested frown. She just couldn’t resist interfering in his life, could she? “She’s right,” he said.

Yost grimaced. “You’re not going to refuse the only decent meal we’ve had since I got here?”

“I said I didn’t want to eat it. I didn’t say I wouldn’t eat it.” The heavenly aroma made his mouth water. He’d be a fool to send it back where it came from, even if he didn’t appreciate Mandy’s interfering. “Why did she send it over? Does she think we don’t know how to feed ourselves?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what she thinks. I told her the sad story of everything I’ve eaten since I’ve been here. I think she was concerned I would die of starvation.”

“That’s Mandy. She thinks she has a right to help people even if they don’t need it.”

Yost eyed him as if he were crazy. “We need it. In case you haven’t noticed, the only thing in the fridge is a half a gallon of milk, a bottle of horseradish, and a jar of pickles. She made dinner for her grandparents and for some boy. She said it was not trouble to make dinner for us.”

No doubt she had been oozing with pity when she said it. “Felty tells me she was on the roof this morning.”

“I told her you wouldn’t like it, but she refused to get down.”

Noah reminded himself that he didn’t care if Mandy fell and broke her neck. If she was going to be stubborn, she could suffer the consequences. That didn’t keep dread from creeping into his bones.

Yost turned off the stove, covered the pan, and moved it to a cool burner. “I thought I might as well put her to work if she was going to be so insistent about it. I hope you’re not mad.”

Of course he was mad. What could he do about it?

“She caught on real well to the nail gun, and she’s a fast worker. Once she got the hang of things, she was a big help.”

That first day on Huckleberry Hill, she’d been so eager to help with the stove. He wasn’t sure why he had agreed to let her, unless it was those cute freckles that tempted him in a moment of weakness. She proved she could wield his tools with skill. He’d been completely impressed and completely undone.

“The only bad thing is that she talked and talked. She wanted to know my opinion on wedding plate colors. I don’t know anything about wedding plate colors. Do you?”

Not much except that Mandy wanted her wedding plates to be pink and blue. The ache in his chest grew. Pink and blue would be real nice for a wedding.

“Did the wind give you trouble?”

“A little, but it died down in the afternoon. Mandy and I should be able to finish by Thursday.”

Mandy and I.
It sounded like they were a couple, a team. Friends. “Just don’t tell her any secrets.”

Yost retrieved a quart bottle of chowchow from the fridge and peered at Noah. “I know you’re mad at her because she told her friend about Dat and the bar, but I think she’s a wonderful-gute girl. She’s prettier than a bluebird and very sweet. And she makes gute fried chicken. Is it worth rejecting her just because she gossips about people? All girls gossip.”

“She knew how important the secret was to me. She wanted to hurt me. It wasn’t harmless gossip.”

“Still,” Yost said, “if I didn’t have a strict policy of not dating girls my brother has dated, I’d take her to a gathering. She has freckles.”

Noah should have put his brother’s mind at ease—
Oh, I don’t care if you date Mandy Helmuth. She’s nothing to me
—but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pretend that it didn’t matter who Mandy went out with. There was only one boy he wanted Mandy to date, and he hated himself for wishing it.

He squared his shoulders and shook off his sour mood. Yost needed to stay away from Mandy for Yost’s own protection. What secrets of his would she eventually spill?

“Would you do something for me, Yost?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t let Mandy on the roof anymore. She’ll get hurt.”

“I’ll do what I can, but I won’t promise anything.”

“I guess she’ll do precisely what she wants to. She always does.”

Yost sighed and wiped his hands on a dish towel. “Did you fix the egg sorter?”

“Jah, and the Bielers’ sewing machine and the Kings’ water heater. On the way home I stopped by Baker’s and looked at his car. He needs a new battery.”

“You want to set the table?” Yost said, pulling two plates from the cupboard.

“Where’s Dat?”

Yost slumped his shoulders and frowned. “Gone.”

Noah understood the meaning behind the look. “Gone” could only mean one thing.

“I’m sorry, Noah.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“This time I think it is. I tried to talk to him.”

Noah clenched his teeth. “About what?”

“I told him he was ruining our lives with his drinking. I told him if he loved us kinner and Mamm that he’d give it up so we could come home.”

Noah bowed his head. “Oh, Yost.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, but I came home and he was just sitting there waiting for one of us to get home and cook him dinner. After working like a dog all day, I didn’t think he deserved it, and I told him so. How can you stand it, Noah? It makes me sick.”

“What did he do?”

Yost set the plates on the table. “He threw his kaffe mug at me and started yelling like I’ve never seen. Then he left.”

“You shouldn’t provoke him like that.”

“I know,” Yost said, “but I couldn’t just go along like nothing was wrong. Everything is wrong, Noah. Everything.”

“Nae, that’s not true. I have things under control. I know how to handle him.”

“You never really had control, Noah. You’ve got to hand it over to God.”

Before Noah could give Yost the same arguments he’d given Mandy, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his back pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. The call he was expecting, but three or four hours too early. His stomach dropped to the floor.

“Hullo,” he said.

Yost riveted his attention to Noah’s face. Noah must have been wearing a very dark look.

“Noah? It’s Pete. Look, I’m real sorry. He was here before the shift change. I didn’t realize how much he’d already had.”

Noah’s whole body felt heavy with the burden of holding up his dat. “Is he throwing pretzels?”

“You gotta believe I’m real sorry. He passed out on the floor. A couple of guys helped me haul him to the buggy. I’m real sorry, but if the authorities knew I’d served somebody enough drinks to pass out, they’d shut me down.”

Noah’s pulsed raced. “Where is my dat, Pete?”

“He’s in his buggy. In the parking lot, but you gotta get him to the hospital. He’s still breathing, but I don’t know how much he had before I got here. That’s the thing. People can die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Call an ambulance.”

“I’m real sorry, Noah. You gotta come down here and get him. If the authorities found out, I’d be in big trouble. You understand, don’t you?”

Noah pressed the END button and cut Pete off. His mind raced, and he felt sick to his stomach like he always did when Pete called. Except this time, he might be violently ill.

“Is it Dat?” Yost asked.

“He passed out in his buggy,” Noah said.

Yost’s eyes flashed with pain. The kind of pain Noah felt every time he made a trip into town to get his dat. “We need to go get him.”

Noah nodded. Maybe he should have felt guilty about it, but in his head, he calculated how much an ambulance and a visit to the emergency room might cost. The numbers slipped from his brain as if they were grains of sand in a sieve. It didn’t matter the price. He would not be responsible for his fater’s death. He’d find a way to pay for it. “I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“Why?”

“Pete says he could stop breathing.”

Yost snatched his jacket from the hook next to Noah’s. “You call. I’ll hitch up the buggy. We can meet the ambulance at the hospital.”

Noah braced a hand on Yost’s shoulder. “It’ll be ugly.”

Yost wrapped his fingers around Noah’s forearm and gave him a somber, no-nonsense look. “Maybe it’s about time you shared some of the ugliness with me.”