Between Two Worlds Page 13

  “It’s little Danny Lapp,” Daniel said to Aiden, his eyes wide in distress.

  “I… I was just… looking after my lamb,” Danny sniveled. “He’s sick… and I didn’t want to leave him alone. Please… please don’t hurt us.” The little boy, so distraught over his helpless lamb, said between sniffles that he had snuck out of his home to sleep with it in the barn. He was rewarded for his compassion by Daniel’s bursting in.

  Daniel was clearly appalled by his frightening a poor little boy caring for a sick lamb. Aiden stepped in and soothed Danny.

  “It’s okay,” he said, squatting next to the quivering and weeping boy. “We were worried about you. Your dad was wondering where you were and he wanted us to find you. We thought you were a thief, we didn’t mean to scare you.” Under the circumstances, using his reporter’s skills to fudge his way out of such a predicament seemed appropriate, if only to mollify Daniel.

  “We were worried about you,” Aiden repeated, his arm on the boy’s trembling shoulders. “And your little lamb.”

  Kneeling next to him, Daniel draped his arm around the shaking boy. With his free hand he patted the small lamb, too sick to stir from the ruckus.

  “Go back to what you were doing, Danny,” Daniel murmured, his fingers entwined in the lamb’s fleece. “Go on, go lay down with your little lamb, everything’s okay now.”

  As they made their way back to Aiden’s hatchback, disgusted by how they had frightened poor little Danny Lapp, the beam of a flashlight fanned across the front yard, followed by a man’s gruff voice bellowing into the dark night: “Weir is datt? Who’s out there?”

  They scurried for Aiden’s car and drove off just as the beam from the flashlight struck the back of the hatchback. Daniel was almost on the verge of relief when it occurred to him that Mark was still missing.

  Despondent, Daniel said, “You might as well drop me home. I can have a talk with that Mark once I see him. He’ll get an earful from me, for sure. What a mess. Look what he had me end up doing. It’s all boogered!”

  They were heading home in gloomy silence, passing under the I-57 bridge and approaching the one business that was illuminated at such a late hour for a farming community on a Thursday night, when Daniel, against his better judgment, practically yanked Aiden out of his seatbelt.

  “There’s Mark! He’s getting onto his bike! Hurry! Pull over there! There he is!”

  Mark and another youth had just climbed onto their bicycles and were peddling frantically from the adult superstore’s parking lot when Aiden pulled alongside them on the shoulder. They both fell off their bicycles and tumbled down a grassy ravine by a thin stretch of woods. Daniel jumped out of the Chevy and leaped for his brother.

  He grabbed him up by his shirt and looked at him hard. Mark’s companion was on his backside, scurrying backward like a crab toward the trees for safety. Both boys were wearing popular-styled jeans and T-shirts. Daniel recognized Mark’s companion as a local English boy about Mark’s age whom Mark often spent time with during his rumspringa.

  “What were you doing in there?” Daniel demanded, still holding him by his collar, but refraining from doing anything more violent. “Mom would be sick if she knew about this.” He shot a glare toward the other boy, who was trying to retreat into the woods. “And you, you get over here. Your mom would be sick too, if she knew about you, Alex Stadler.”

  “Go easy, man,” Alex pleaded. “It’s no big deal."

  Tears spilled from Mark’s eyes and he looked ready to pass out from the discovery. “It’s not what you think,” he said, shaking. “Honest, it’s not.”

  By now Aiden had gotten out of the car and was looking down into the ravine where Daniel and the boys were sprawled. Daniel made sure to check his temper, if only for Aiden’s sake.

  “Is this what you think rumspringa is about?” Daniel pulled Mark to his feet by his shirt as if he were weightless and glared at him with burning eyes. Spittle trickled from the sides of his mouth and down his beard. “Is this it?”

  “Daniel, please,” Mark said. “It’s not what it looks like, honest. Please, let me explain.”

  Daniel eased off just a bit.

  “All right,” he said, his voice still scathing. “Go ahead; I’d like to hear what you can come up with.”

  Mark straightened his shirt after Daniel released him, and confessed that he and Alex had been at the adult superstore, but not as patrons. They were employees. They began working there a few weeks ago to earn extra money. He rode his bicycle and wore English clothes so as not to scare away patrons or attract the attention of those in the Amish community. Alex was able to drive them on some nights, but he wasn’t always able to borrow his mother’s car. Mark insisted that he did not even look at any of the adult-oriented material, and that most of it disgusted him. The reason he took the job was because of the large salary: sixteen dollars an hour. And since the furniture shop was bringing in less money than it used to, he needed some way to earn cash for his big road trip to the Texas shore in December.

  “You think that’s an excuse?” Daniel’s eyes burned like coals. “Working at a place like that for a worthless trip?”

  “But, Daniel—”

  “Get in the car!” Daniel pushed Mark into the backseat. He grabbed for the trembling Alex and nudged him in after Mark. “Help me with these bikes.” Daniel and Aiden managed to fit the two bicycles into the back of the small hatchback, Daniel unconcerned whether he damaged them.

  The drive to Alex Stadler’s home on the western edge of Henry was fraught with penetrating silences mixed with piercing lectures. They dropped off Alex and his bicycle with a final warning from Daniel (and a hesitant promise not to say anything to Alex’s mother) and then headed for the Schrock farm. Once at the bottom of the Schrock’s driveway, Daniel ordered Mark out of the car and to wait for him by the barn. Daniel sat wordless in Aiden’s car a moment, not moving.

  “Hope you don’t think all us Amish are this crazy,” he said, gazing through the darkened windshield.

  “No.” Aiden said. “I just think you’re human, like the rest of us. Didn’t you say that once yourself?”

  Daniel turned to look at Aiden. He wondered how so much warmth could flow through his veins after such a tumultuous night. But as he looked into the compassionate honey-brown eyes of the Englishman, he reckoned that perhaps now was the perfect moment after all. He placed his large hand on Aiden’s shoulder.

  “Thanks for driving me around,” he said. His mouth was taut, but his insides were warm with affection.

  “Anytime,” Aiden said. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Aiden watched Daniel walk toward the barn where Mark waited (even in the dark Aiden could see Mark’s silhouette shaking). Then he pulled away and left them privacy. Driving back to his bungalow along the dim back lanes, he still felt the heat on his shoulder from Daniel’s touch. It was the first genuine physical gesture of friendship Daniel had shown him. He relished the sensation.

  Chapter 14

  “You like Aiden Cermak now, don’t you?” David said to Daniel at the furniture shop a few weeks after Aiden and Daniel had found Mark sneaking out of the adult superstore.

  Daniel rolled his eyes while he sat at the back desk, trying to focus on tallying the few sales receipts they had from that week so far. “Mind your business, won’t you?” He shook his head, annoyed.

  “He comes by here for lunch a lot and you talk to him more.”

  “I don’t talk to him much,” Daniel grumbled.

  Yet, in fact, Daniel had seen more of Aiden Cermak since that crazy Thursday night than he cared to admit. If they weren’t popping across Ivy Street, lunching with each other on the days Daniel manned the shop, as David had pointed out, Daniel often drove Gertrude to Aiden’s bungalow in the evenings and on weekends, after he finished his chores.

  Daniel had wound up at Aiden’s front door stoop more often than he thought he should have, as if he’d been pulled by an invisible lead. He found it
difficult to fend off the mounting desire to be near Aiden. He wanted to sit near him, to talk with him, to look at him.

  There was no denying their search for Mark had cemented a bond between them. Vulnerabilities had been exposed. They had openly declared each other a friend. Though Daniel wouldn’t say their burgeoning relationship was without sudden setbacks (he sometimes slipped into his old aloofness), he understood it was impossible to go back to the way things were.

  They never spoke about their search for Mark, although once in passing Daniel had mentioned that Mark had quit his job with the adult superstore. He had figured Aiden would want to know. When Aiden had reassured Daniel that at least Mark hadn’t been involved in the drugs like Daniel had feared, Daniel had marveled at his wise thinking. So many clever perspectives this Englishman had. He had wanted to flatter him, but the words had lodged heavy in his mouth.

  Samuel and Rachel had suspicions something had gone on with Mark, but Daniel had promised Mark to keep the entire episode between them. Aiden had also promised to keep quiet. Daniel and Aiden sharing a secret further strengthened their nascent bond.

  He worried people in the community were noticing how much closer they had become. But who would suspect anything unusual in their friendship? There wasn’t anything to speculate. He and Aiden were friends. Nothing more. What was wrong with that?

  Everyone in the community knew by now that he and Tara Hostetler were courting. And Tara would never suspect anything. He was lucky that the Amish stay clear of most kinds of physical contact when courting, unlike the English. Many Amish couples do not even experience their first kiss with each other until their wedding day. He was glad that in his strict culture he was not expected to show romantic overtures of any kind. His standoffishness with Tara would not give him away.

  But if David had realized that his feelings for Aiden had changed, then who else might have? Gossip in the Amish community spread like a hayfield on fire. Fear of such talk had stopped him from seeing Aiden a few times before.

  “I remember how you were even before Aiden went back to Chicago,” David said. “The way you told us all not to let him know about Mom and Elisabeth going to Bobby Jonesboro’s funeral. You were looking out for him then yet. You like him for saving us, and because he’s nice, admit it.”

  “Only thing to admit is you’re slacking off on your choring,” Daniel said. “Now get to dusting those shelves.”

  Daniel thought back to Bobby Jonesboro’s funeral. It was the day Kevin Hassler had come to the farm with Aiden for interviews, just before Daniel took the kinner on Gertrude’s maiden drive. He’d made everyone promise to keep their mouths shut about the whereabouts of Rachel and Elisabeth. He worried that if Aiden knew they were at Bobby’s funeral, Aiden might become crushed with guilt. He didn’t know why he’d felt so compelled to protect Aiden. Or even why he’d cared nothing that his family might question his motives. Now, he cared too much. Especially with David pestering him.

  David turned back to the shelves with his feather duster. But his choring did little to keep him quiet. “I’m glad Aiden Cermak moved to town,” he said, as if everyone on God’s earth would agree.

  Daniel, keeping his eyes on his receipt book, shrugged off his brother’s praises of Aiden. “He’s just another Englishman.”

  “Maybe he’ll live here forever and marry someone local and buy a farm.”

  “Sure, sure.” Daniel tried to foster a laugh. “That’ll be something, Aiden Cermak buying a farm.”

  “Why not?” David said. “He wants to live in a cabin in the woods, that’s kinda like living on a farm. Maybe when I grow up I can buy his bungalow and he can buy the farm from me after I inherit it.”

  David’s comment made Daniel scrunch his forehead. “Dad wouldn’t care much for that, for sure. Mom and him are planning on retiring in their daadi haus on the farm. Besides, Aiden doesn’t own that bungalow, he rents it.”

  “He said he’s thinking of buying it. He said it’s real cheap compared to the houses in Chicago.”

  Aiden Cermak living in Henry permanently? Daniel had never considered that before. He’d always assumed Aiden’s stint of living in Henry was just an experiment in small-town living. Just like his move from Maryland to Chicago had been an experiment in big-city living. Isn’t that why Aiden had moved to Chicago, just for kicks? Aiden had never mentioned why he had moved from Maryland to Chicago, and Daniel had never thought to ask. Until now. At this point in their relationship, he supposed he could. They were close enough friends these days, just like David had stated. And what had really persuaded Aiden to move to such a small town like Henry?

  Thinking how much David understood, Daniel was again seized by a numbing dread. He was always amazed at how shrewd his youngest brother could be, as wise as a fox. How much else did David comprehend? The thought made him shudder.

  Perhaps he needed to lay off seeing Aiden for a while, at least until it did not become so obvious to even an eleven-year-old that they were becoming fast friends. Yet how many times had he tried to talk himself into doing just that?

  How could he keep a simple friendship with Aiden if he were to remain in Henry forever, for the rest of their lives?

  What if things with Aiden turned out the way they had with… with his second cousin Kyle Yoder? What if he were responsible for destroying another human being? Not to mention himself? The last thing he wanted was to hurt Aiden.

  “Never mind about Aiden Cermak,” Daniel said, his mouth dry from apprehension. “Just keep to your choring.”

  Chapter 15

  Kyle Yoder’s death was never too far from Aiden’s mind. Ever since reading about the boy’s suicide in a back issue of the Blade, he had wondered why—why would a seventeen-year-old Amish boy hang himself?

  Just another topic that he could not broach with the Schrocks. Asking about a relative’s suicide, no matter how distant, would be improper in any culture. Besides, he did not want to don his reporter’s cap with the Schrocks. They were his friends, his second family. Nevertheless, his curiosity—that fire that was never fully extinguished, always smoldering below the surface—scorched him.

  Kevin had said something about unrequited love. Aiden supposed any adolescent boy, whether Amish or English, would feel the dramatic pangs of a shattered romance. It wasn’t impossible to imagine that he’d taken his life after facing a lover’s rejection.

  Yet hanging oneself required some planning. Unlikely Kyle was standing in his family’s barn with a rope in hand at the precise moment the sword of rejection pierced him; he must have been caught up in his anguish for quite some time. A prolonged suffering that he could no longer endure.

  Kevin’s newspaper was for small towners, maintaining a mawkish tone (a tone Aiden hoped to change), but some of the larger newspapers might have had more details about Kyle’s death. He surfed the Internet for archived articles about the 2002 suicide, but after a half hour of searching he found only one from the regional newspaper. The article was as succinct and vague as Kevin’s. He was not so surprised to get only one hit. The Amish lived insulated lives, largely untouched by the Internet. It was unlikely to find much information on them floating through cyberspace. Not everything they did caught the attention of the outside world.

  Aiden decided there were other ways to douse his reporter’s inquisitiveness. Packing his notepads and sharpened pencils into his knapsack, he drove the fifteen miles to the County Records Office, in the county seat of Overton, to do a little extra background research on Kyle. The County Records Office would have the coroner and police reports, with more information about why he might have committed suicide. Even the Amish could not stay clear of government documentation.

  The middle-aged woman who worked at the Records Office was pleasant and helpful. She provided Aiden with a heavy three-ring binder containing the coroner and police reports for the relevant time frame, which he carried to a small table by a window.

  Sunshine laws made it simple to look up whatever infor
mation he needed, information that was recorded, at least, provided he put the effort into digging for it. Although he appreciated the Internet for its research value, he preferred the old-fashioned way: touching the laminated pages with his fingertip as he scanned down the reports, the tactile feel of the cardboard pages as he turned each leaf of the binder.

  He came across the coroner’s report first. Within the top five lines of the document the boy’s entire identity was summarized. Decedent: Yoder, Kyle C. Race: White. Sex: Male. Date of Birth: 05/10/1985. Age at Death: 17. Home Address: East County Road 325, Frederick County, IL. Height: 5’10”. Weight: 165 lbs. Eyes: Blue. Hair: Dark blond.

  Further down the page was something even more unsettling: a description of the body at the scene. Kyle was found hanging from a rafter inside the barn fully clothed: suspenders dangling from trousers, right boot still on foot, left foot covered with sock—left boot missing.