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“According to our files, you were abandoned at a city fire station when you were eight weeks old,” Carol said, struggling to organize a file thicker than the New York City phone book. According to her, the file would have been much smaller if Jacob hadn't committed so many acts of rebellion during his stay in the foster care system, “and no, you cannot have her 'disappeared'; this isn't a mobster movie.”
“What I want to know is what gives her the right to come looking for me after all this time,” Jacob knew he was demanding and not asking but he didn’t care. He perched on the kitchen chair, wanting to leave, wanting to run – to do anything not to have this conversation. “She got rid of me. She didn’t want me, and I don't want her.”
“She hasn't done anything illegal,” Carol explained. “She has the right to try to contact you for a few reasons. First, you don't have a restraining order, and there was no official adoption by the Masts. She can do whatever she wants.”
“I want a restraining order,” Jacob said. “I want one right now.”
“What's a restraining order?” Dorothy wondered aloud. Jacob had almost forgotten she was sitting there.
“It's a court order,” Carol explained. “It would state that she can't be within a certain distance of Jacob...but he has no grounds to file one. The mother...Wanda...hasn't done anything illegal or threatened harm.”
Thomas adjusted himself in his chair, trying to understand the situation. When Jacob had come to live with him, he'd had trouble understanding why any child would be without parents or grandparents unless they were dead. Carol had told him that her mother abandoned the boy and that he had no other relatives willing or able to take him. It had led to his long foster care placement, and the abuses he had suffered living with families who only wanted the money the state provided. He had been starved, beaten and abused and was on the verge of moving into the prison system when she had called him out of desperation. It was one of the reasons he had agreed to take him, and after a year of difficulties and victories, the boy was coming into his own. He was a good son, and even after the barn incident, he had proven to Thomas that, with love, nurturing and a swift kick in the rear from time to time, any child could grow out of bad circumstances.
Abandonment did not occur often in Hope Crossing, but in the few instances where it did, the community had come together to raise a child. Englischers were an odd lot; they didn’t use common sense when it came to their young. The boy had talked to him about some of the abuses over these past months, and Thomas had hidden his horror at the boy’s treatment. Now, he was learning that the mother who had abandoned him when he was a baby by dumping him at the fire station now wanted back into his life. What sort of mother was she, and why would she even come back? These thoughts led to both questions and anger, but the good book always said “Quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger”. Sometimes the directives from the good book simply did not seem to apply, but who was he to question it?
“There are some things I'm concerned about,” Carol said. “First of all, why are you perched in that chair?”
Jacob looked to Thomas who shrugged.
“I fell,” he suggested to Carol, who sighed and shook her head.
“I've seen a lot of kids sit like that Jacob,” she said. “And you know what? 'I fell' is a common excuse. If you were anyone, ANYONE else, I would have you out of this house and in the hands of social services faster than you can say 'broken tailbone. But, you know what? I'm not going to, because I know you would tell me if something was going on. Actually, I'm one hundred percent certain you'd have stowed away aboard a cargo freighter and started a new life in Asia if something were wrong. What I AM going to tell you, is that your mother, if she were to try and get custody, could use this incident to petition the court. The question I have, is what did she see, and could she use it against you?”
“I...fell off a roof.” Jacob hesitated.
“What were you doing on the roof this time of year?” Carol demanded. “That's beyond dangerous.”
“I was ah...doing...siding.” Carol practically dropped everything in her hands onto the wooden table.
“Are you serious?” she demanded. “Are you being serious right now? You're fourteen years old—”
“Fifteen.”
“—you can't work on a construction crew! What was going through your head? Nothing as usual? Come on!”
“No one got hurt,” Jacob said. “The doctor said I was fine!”
“It doesn't matter what the doctor said,” Carol said, becoming irritated. “What matters is what it looks like, and if your mother is here to regain custody...well...you falling off a roof while participating in illegal child labor would give her a pretty strong case. I should be reporting it, in fact, ...oh I should be reporting this...”
Jacob noticed that Carol had gone from sitting upright with confidence to holding her head in her hands and pressing, almost as if she hoped to make her escape through the pores in her palms.
“Okay!” she finally said, lifting her head from her hands, “I'm going to fix this. You, Jacob, don't tell anyone what happened, make something up, ignore questions, I don't care. You WEREN'T working on a construction site. That never happened.”
“I really can't do that,” Jacob said. “I'm not a liar, and the Bible says—”
“Then stick with the, 'I fell' story,” She said. “Or keep your mouth shut. “
“Fine,” Thomas said. “We can keep quiet, well as anyone, but there’s no harm in a boy working. I was not for him doing it, but he bull headed about some things, and I knew that one day, half a day working would settle the argument with his learning that I say things for a reason. I did not expect him to make it as long as he did, and the crew boss is my friend. He would not have really let the boy get hurt too much. His tailbone is sore, not broken. I had the boy checked out. Mostly, he was very cold and miserable, and the way my wife and daughter made a fuss over him, gave him soup, warmed him up, let him laze around for three days, I don’t think he’s any worse for wear.”
“It’s just how it looks, Thomas.”
“Ya, Carol, I understand. But, you need to understand that he is a growing boy, and strong headed to boot. If he were an Amish boy, we would not be having this conversation. He is becoming a man; these things are all part of that. He needs to have room and confidence to grow. Isn’t that why you sent him to us? To give him a chance to become a good man?”
“Yes, I did, and I can see that he is doing that. I am very happy, but you can’t let him do things that will run him afoul of the law, even if he is beyond stubborn. And you, Jacob, have to exercise some common sense. In the meantime, we need to keep this ‘incident’ between us.”
“I don't know if I'm comfortable with this,” Dorothy interjected. “It seems a lot like lying.”
“Just...leave it all to me,” Jacob said. “If anyone has to bear the burden of dishonesty it should be me; I did this. “
“In my day,” Thomas said. “A child could work. Any Amish child would be able to—”
“Jacob isn't an Amish child,” Carol re-stated. “He's technically a ward of the state, and his 'existence' here is shaky at best.”
“Why don't you just say what you mean to say?” Dorothy demanded. “Or if your words have no meaning at face value, then don't say them at all!”
Carol raised her hand, practically signaling for Dorothy to be silent, and sure enough, silence fell over the dining room.
“Your best bet would be an adoption. Now that she's in the picture though, it's going to be an uphill battle, assuming she wants to fight.”
“But she can't do this; why would she do this?” Jacob demanded. “I'm happy here, it's the happiest I've ever been!”
“Yeah, sorry, it's not always about happiness,” Carol said, slamming the file shut and stuffing it into her leather satchel. “Look, I have to get out of here; there's no cellphone reception, and you have an awful smell coming from the backyard—”
“I know we're even,” Thomas said. “I know the debt has been repaid, but can't you do something for me? Can't you do something? Bend the rules, make it happen so that the boy can stay with us?”
“Luckily for everyone,” Carl said as she put the bag over her shoulder and walked toward the door. “The city is backed up with cases right now, and even if a petition for custody were filed, it wouldn't be heard for...well actually I don't know, so you havetime. I suggest you build a case for yourself.” “How do we do that?” Dorothy asked.
“It's not as hard as you think,” Carol shrugged. “Do the right thing, stop letting the boy work on construction crews, and for God's sake don't give him a gun. It might sound silly, but it had to be said. I'm out of here.”
With that, Carol was gone, out the front door, and into her car which sped down the drive way like an untamed mare.
“Okay,” Jacob said. “When I lived at the group home we had a way of dealing with things like this.”
“This happened often?” Dorothy interrupted.
“Not this..er...kind of. Anyway, when something like this happened we would just keep real quiet, and eventually it would go away. Like if they were mad at us and we didn't want Andy to come around with the switch—”
“Wait,” Thomas said. “Who is Andy?”
“Oh, the supervisor's son, he was bigger than you, but kind of special, if you know what I mean. Mr. Manning would set him loose on us if we were out of line.”
“Um...that aside,” Thomas said. “I don't think your mother is going away.”
“As far as I'm concerned you are my moth...” he tried to say it looking directly at Dorothy but choked on the words. “Sorry, I mean you are my mothe...ah.... “
“Deep seated psychological issues aside,” Thomas said, “I have come to care for you as a son, your previous life aside. My question to you is whether you still want to fight for this. I know you have a mother out there, and I know you probably have many questions. Now normally, we don't tangle with outsiders, and normally it wouldn't be allowed, but this is a special case—”
“But, I don't want to see her!” Jacob insisted. “I never want to see her again!”
“Calm down,” Dorothy said. “You can't make that decision on a whim!”
“But I have,” Jacob insisted, “I have always made my own decisions, because nobody was there, and nobody cared whether I lived or died. If I let people make decisions, it was in their best interest and not mine. With you guys, this is the first time I have trusted anyone enough to let them make decisions for me. I don’t want to go backwards; I want to go forwards. And, I am an Amish kid as much as Mark or anybody. I just don’t have an Amish last name, and I wasn’t born Amish.” He realized that he was almost screaming as if the Masts were hard of hearing which they were not. He didn’t care. His fists balled, and he slowly opened them. He was now standing in the middle of the floor looking like someone about to fight.
Thomas shifted in his seat a bit, nearly standing up in the imposing manner that Jacob had seen so many times over the past couple of years. There was a distinct difference between Thomas standing, and Thomas standing. He had a habit of rising above the table rather than pulling away from it, and he would place both hands on the wooden surface, equal distance apart. He had this way of occupying far more space in the room than he actually did.It sounded ridiculous, but it was quite true, and Jacob was witness to the effect.
“Jacob,” Thomas said. “I know you're going through a tough time, but I would ask you not to disrespect the family by screaming and screeching.” Jacob had heard that tone and seen that action before. It was not so much a request as it was an outright demand. It was the kind of demand often made before someone was sentenced to clean the stalls, cut the grass, or dig a random hole in the back yard, only to spend the rest of the day filling it up. These were not exactly death sentences, but they were also not something he wanted to spend his time doing, and he had quickly learned when to shut his mouth.
He turned his back on Thomas looking out the kitchen window attempting to regain his composure. Nature was always constant; winter brought snow and summer brought sunshine and rain. And, getting into a fight with the man who had saved him from certain incarceration and continued hell was not his purpose. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were. He felt the tears welling in his eyes. He was happy here. Why didn’t they just leave him alone?
“I think you should go see her,” Dorothy interjected. “She did come all this way. Go see what she wants, Jacob. Then you can make a decision.”
“She dropped me in front of a fire station.” He wished he could turn back time and wipe her off the stage of his life. Make her disappear again so he could go back to falling off a roof into the snow. When he had been brought home, Dorothy and Sarah had made a fuss over him, and even though he was in pain, it felt good to have someone care. His mother did not care, or she wouldnot have dropped him like a bad sack of potatoes to become someone else’s problem. Now, she was back, and everyone expected him to be happy. Well, he was not happy. “She just left me there, like I was dirt. She never called and the fact that she tried to find me is bogus. Two years? What about the last 11 years that I was in the foster care system? Did she care what they did to me?” He was whispering, and it eventually trailed off into silence.
“It is your decision, Jacob,” Thomas said, “and I will support you either way. Just think on this scripture, before you decide. Remember what Luke said: Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.
“Maybe, she should leave before I lose some of my senses then. Maybe, if I ignore her request, she will just go away.” Jacob suggested. He continued to stare out the window. It was snowy and windy, but inside it was warm and comforting. He liked the consistent pace of nature. It was always changing, but that change had a plan in it. Thomas would say it was God’s plan; he just got to calling it The Plan. He still was not too sure about the God thing.
“Boy, you're about to make a decision that could ruin your life,” Thomas stated years of wisdom permeating his tone. “Regret isn't something you want to live with, believe me. I wish I had spoken to my grandfather a bit, before the end. Do not let hatred and fear guide your decision. You will regret that forever. Think about it and pray for guidance before you make your final choice. ”
Thomas exited the house through the kitchen door, as he frequently did, but something in his gait was different. It seemedto Jacob that a heavy weight had been placed on his shoulders. The last sentence that he uttered sounded painful for him to utter. What just happened? Jacob turned to Dorothy, who had hung her head, almost as if she dared not make eye contact.
“What happened with his grandfather?” Jacob asked, more curious than anything. He did not receive an answer. “Great.”
Dorothy looked up for a moment and studied Jacob, who was staring at her intently, expecting an answer of some sort.
“Ne, I cannot say. That is for him to tell you,” Dorothy said. “It is not my place.”
Her tone was adamant, and it was quite clear to Jacob that he would be getting no further answers from her. He sighed and left the kitchen, headed toward the front door.
“Jacob,” Dorothy said, stopping him in his tracks, as her voice always could. “He is right. You are making a huge mistake not giving your mother a chance. It is not about where you will wind up; it is about hearing her out and deciding. Between the regret and not knowing, you will have an emptiness in your life that nothing can fill, and you will set yourself up for failure. It is not something you want. Trust the people that have already been there. You know, we have never lied to you, and we never will.”
Jacob stopped for a moment, wondering if there was any truth to her words. She had offered nothing but words of wisdom over the past few years, so why should now by any different? He continued walking toward the door, leaving himself to wonder whether or not anything was real.
