“Perry discovered that if you stood in the middle of the trail, and crouched down just a little bit . . . he could see right into our windows. I never asked him how he found out. I suppose I didn’t want to know.”
JACOB SCHROCK
After supper, Jacob knew he couldn’t sit for another minute in his father’s company. Lately, his father had been hovering over him so protectively that Jacob was beginning to feel like a firefly in a jar.
He needed a break from the constant vigilance, and he needed it soon, or he was afraid he would say something he would regret. He’d been taught to always respect his parents and never argue with their directives. However, he was on the verge of breaking his silence.
Entering the living room, where his father was contentedly whittling in front of the fireplace, he announced, “I’m going out for a while, Daed.”
With a start, his father got to his feet. “Going out? Where are you going? It’s late, you know.”
“It’s eight o’clock, Daed. Not so late.”
“But it’s dark out—”
It had finally happened. His patience had snapped. “Father, of course it is dark. And furthermore—”
With a wary look his way, his mother jumped into the conversation. “Aaron, enough! My goodness, what’s gotten into you lately? Jacob is twenty years old, not eight.”
To Jacob’s relief, his father looked more than a little shamefaced. “I know that.”
“Then why are you watching his every move? I tell ya, Aaron, sometimes I truly worry about you.” Waving her hand, she motioned to Jacob. “We’ll see you later, son.”
But his father stood up. “Hold on, Jacob. Are you taking the buggy? Because if you are, you should remember to get a lantern and be careful.”
Reminding himself that his dad was only spooked by Perry’s death, Jacob struggled to hold on to the very last bit of his patience. “I’m not taking the buggy. I’m only going for a walk. I’ll be back in a while.”
“Walking? Where to?”
“Daed, stop.” He ground his teeth, working to control the bark in his voice.
“It’s a father’s job to look out for his child.”
“I agree. Except I am not a child.” Looking over his father’s head, he met his mother’s gaze and sent her a silent, plaintive plea for more help.
She shook her head in dismay. “Aaron, stop this. You are borrowing trouble, and we both know it.”
“But—”
With a shooing motion, she waved Jacob out. “Go on, son. You worked hard today, and you did a fine job with the chores here, too. Go enjoy yourself for a few hours.”
“Danke, Mamm.”
The lines around her eyes softened. “Yes, of course. Now off you go.”
He grabbed his coat and hat before his father could come up with another reason for him to stay under his watch.
Once outside, he walked down the gravel driveway, enjoying the way the rocks crunched under his feet. The lantern shining in the family room window guided him to the side of the house. He continued to walk until the darkness enveloped him.
Thick clouds had formed overhead, effectively creating a shield over the earth. It was so dark he could barely see his hands, never mind any trees and shrubs surrounding him.
He was glad for the small flashlight he’d put in his pocket the other night. One never knew who or what you could come across in the dead of the night.
The narrow pinpoint of light was all he needed. He continued to walk, enjoying the crisp night air and the pungent scent of new foliage. Most of all, he reveled in the feeling of freedom. He was so relieved to be away from his father’s constant monitoring.
Walking aimlessly, he clambered over some rocks, and entered a field that had lay fallow for the past two years. Only then did he truly relax, and wonder what he was going to do with himself for the next few hours.
He hadn’t thought of who he’d wanted to see or hang out with beyond the overwhelming desire to be free of his father’s eye.
Then one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was following the faint path toward Perry’s house.
When they were still in school, Jacob had run down this path to pick up Perry so they could walk to school together.
Of course, Perry had never been ready, and Jacob had never wanted to leave him. And Deborah? Deborah had been at Perry’s mercy. Her mother would never let her go to school without the two of them. So they’d had many a morning where they’d arrived at school late . . . and he remembered those mornings like it was yesterday.
“Come on, Perry. Why aren’t you ever ready on time?”
Perry laughed low. “There’s no reason. It’s just school.”
Jacob felt his temper flare. Over and over Perry was making all three of them late. Not wanting to use himself as the reason, Perry used Deborah instead. “I’m surprised your sister doesn’t go on ahead.”
“Mamm and Daed won’t let her.”
“But doesn’t she get sick of waiting for you? And sick of losing her recess because we’re late?”
Perry paused and looked back at Deborah, who was once again following them both. “You mad at me?” he asked. The words weren’t unkind but his tone was.
After a pause, Deborah shook her head.
“See?” Perry said with a laugh. “She’s fine.”
That was the exact moment Jacob had realized that Perry was a bully. He’d enjoyed exerting power over his parents and his sister. Even his friends. And why shouldn’t he?
Yet again, Jacob hadn’t said a thing. He had let Perry do whatever he wanted.
Like usual.
Little by little, instead of being bullied, Jacob began to be a lot more like Perry. He liked feeling powerful instead of victimized. Before long, both he and Perry had considered it a badge of honor being known as troublemakers. Growing up under his father’s thumb, Jacob had often looked for ways to act up a bit. Perhaps Perry had felt the same way?
Only now did Jacob think about how unfair and selfish he and Perry had been to Deborah.
Why had he never thought about how hard it had been on her, to always be in her brother’s shadow? And how he’d always just accepted that she would be there? To his embarrassment, he had never felt the slightest bit of guilt about ignoring her.
He sure had never apologized to her about how he’d acted. Even after all this time, he’d never said he was sorry.
His face flamed even though the night air was cool.
Then the trail widened and the brush cleared. And in front of him lay the Borntragers’ home.
As he expected, it was mostly dark, though he did see a faint glow in an upstairs bedroom. Deborah’s most likely.
He stopped and looked up at it. Staring at the glow shining through her window shade. What was she doing? Reading by the light of that kerosene lantern?
Sewing?
Just sitting and remembering? It seemed that was all he did these days. Still staring blankly at the window, he noticed the shade twitch. With a start, he realized if she looked out, she’d most likely see his shadow standing underneath her home—looking at her window like some kind of Peeping Tom. Now that would be embarrassing, indeed!
Jacob Schrock was wandering around in her yard. Deborah peered through the tiny crack between the shade and the window and wondered why he’d shown up.
A sudden, fierce anger emanated through her. First he had to go out of his way to make sure she was miserable at the store. Then he gave her an awkward, stilted, most likely very insincere apology. Now he was standing in her yard, below her window.
Could he never leave her alone?
Quickly, she turned off the lamp, grabbed her cloak and black bonnet, and put on both while she went downstairs. For a moment, she thought about telling her parents that she was going out, but decided against it.
Her mother had made an appearance for supper, but after eating only a few bites, had gone back to bed. Her father was closed up in his study, most likely reading a new book checked out from the library. Or staring at the blank walls, pretending he could go back in time.
Either way, neither of them would care one way or the other what she did.
Slipping on her boots, Deborah let her anger and frustration with their whole situation fall by the wayside and tromped outside.
Jacob Schrock had really gone too far today.
As she slipped down the porch steps, she wondered if he’d left, but then she saw his shadow. It looked like he was waiting for her. When she got closer, he stepped out into the clearing, letting the dim glow of a half-full moon illuminate him.
“Hey,” he said.
Deborah’s steps faltered. “Hello, Jacob. Care to tell me why you’re lurking outside my house?”
He visibly winced, and she felt a twinge of remorse. But she had weeks of hurt to make up for. And she was terribly tired of turning the other cheek.
“I don’t know why I’m here. I had to get out of my house—and next thing I knew, I was walking on this old path.”
“The path you used to take to come get us for school.”
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he tilted his head to one side. “I was just remembering how Perry always made us late.” After a pause, he added, “You always ended up getting punished, too. Did you ever tell your parents that it was never your fault?”
There in the yard, in the dark, where memories seemed to surface more clearly than they did in the daylight, she shook her head. That had all been a long time ago. However, the pain still felt fresh. “I think you know the answer to that,” she said.
“Perry would’ve only gotten back at you if you’d told.”
She opened her mouth to agree, but with a start, stopped herself. Would Perry have gotten back at her? Really?
Or was she just remembering the Perry who’d been so cruel his last few months alive? “Perhaps.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. Not really.”
“I never apologized to you. I should have.”
“For what?” She shook her head. “Jacob, it was not your fault that Perry was never ready and that my parents wouldn’t let me go to school without him.”
He stepped forward. “Then whose fault was it? If you don’t want to blame Perry or me . . . who do you blame for all those recesses you missed?”
Back when they were younger, Deborah would’ve given money for him to accept at least part of the blame. But now?
Now it was pointless to dwell on the past. “It was no one’s fault,” she said quietly. “It was just how it was.” She shrugged. “Besides, it was long ago. And I survived. We all did, jah?”
Slowly, he nodded. “I guess we did. So, tonight, I saw a light on in your room. What were you doing?”
For a moment, she thought about making up a story. Pretending that she’d been doing something valuable with her time. “Not much. Reading.” Actually, she’d been peeking through the crack in the shade out the window. And thinking about Perry.
“Will your parents miss you if you go on a walk?”
“Nee.” No, they wouldn’t miss her at all. The only thing they seemed to want to keep them company was their depression. And Perry, of course.
“Want to walk? Not far,” he said quickly. “Just somewhere close.”
“How about we go to the old schoolhouse?”
“It will be just like old times. Almost.”
Deborah said nothing. Because they knew nothing was like it used to be—and it was more than not having Perry with them. It also had to do with the fact that before, she’d been the boys’ afterthought. She’d tagged along after them while Perry and Jacob had walked side-by-side.
Laughing about jokes she didn’t understand.
With only his tiny flashlight leading the way, they kept their pace slow. It was dark and the path hadn’t been used for years. Rocks and vines and broken branches littered what little they could see of it. Most of it was covered with thick brush.
“I don’t know whether to be surprised this trail is so overgrown, or to be surprised it’s in existence at all,” Jacob mused.
“I’m leaning toward being surprised it’s here. How many years has it been?” Deborah asked. “I certainly haven’t gone to the schoolhouse in a long time. Not since our eighth-grade graduation.”
Jacob chuckled. “Me, neither.”
When it narrowed, Jacob reached out and grasped her elbow, holding her steady when she stumbled on a tree root. The sudden brush of their bodies against each other felt like so much more than it was.
“Sorry,” he blurted, when he seemed to realize that he was still holding her arm. He dropped his hand.
“Nee. I, uh, was glad you steadied me. It would be awful if I twisted my ankle out here.”
“You’re a little thing, though. I bet I could carry you home without a problem.”
If he’d been anyone else, she would have teased him. Or claimed that while she was petite, she certainly wasn’t all that small. Much too big to be picked up like a child.
At last, the glow of the white clapboard schoolhouse loomed in front of them. The white wood, combined with the reflectors that someone had nailed to a few trees in front of it, made it feel like they had stepped into the light.
Jacob turned off his flashlight.
As they got closer, Deborah noticed that an abandoned bike lay on its side next to the school’s front door. “Look at that,” she said.
“Wonder whose it is?” Jacob asked. “It’s still in good condition.”
“I’ve always wondered how a bike gets left here. I figure if a person needs to take it to get to school, he needs it to get home, too. Plus, if I had forgotten it, my mamm would have made me turn right back around and get it.”
“Mine, too.” They shared a smile, then their smiles turned to wariness as they heard the rumble of a car’s engine approaching. “Guess we’re not the only people out tonight, huh?” he asked.
Deborah felt strangely exposed, standing in the empty schoolyard. Making a sudden decision, she walked to the side of the building, then leaned against it. At the moment, she didn’t care if Jacob was going to tease her for hiding.
But instead of teasing, he joined her. Pressing his back against the hard planks, too.
As the car approached, they slid closer toward the back, deeper in the shadows. Their bodies touched. Jacob’s breathing quickened.
Deborah, on the other hand, practically held her breath. Suddenly, she felt like they had been courting trouble, walking out in the dark together.
But surely this was simply her imagination taking control?
Jacob reached for her hand. Squeezed it once. Obviously in an attempt to reassure her as they waited for the vehicle to pass them.
But then it slowed, turned slightly.
And just like a spotlight had shone down from heaven, the car’s spotlights flashed their way.
Illuminating them as clearly as if they were standing inside a metal cage—
Waiting to be caught and inspected.