Living in Harmony (43 page)

“
Oncle Ee-um
,” said Aden, lifting his small fingers in a wave.

“Elam,” murmured Nora. “Glad you could join us.”

The other five adults stared, slack-jawed at his appearance.

John leaned slightly toward Thomas. “I invited him to supper when Amy and I borrowed his cell phone.”

Thomas nodded his acknowledgment. However, it wasn't Elam's arrival that startled him but the younger man's appearance. He had on faded blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt open at the neck. The sleeves had been rolled to the elbows, revealing his thermal undershirt beneath. He wore a leather belt rather than braces, and what looked to be brand-new, expensive work boots. His freshly washed hair had been slicked back from his face, bangless and utterly too long. His high cheekbones looked more pronounced, as though he'd lost weight. And most irritating to Thomas was the man's three-day-old beard, well beyond normal stubble by day's end.

Beards were only grown by married Amish men, a badge of honor that they had committed their lives to one God and one woman. Elam wasn't a married man, and as far as Thomas knew, he had no prospects along those lines. Thomas cleared his throat as the others remained silent. He seldom felt anger, but he was beginning to feel the first red-hued sensations deep in his gut.

“You come to my supper table dressed like that?”

Elam stood at the stove, loading his plate with four pieces of fried chicken. “As our brother already told you, I got an invitation.” He slapped a dollop of mashed potatoes next to the chicken, and then he ladled on a topping of rich brown gravy.

“It is your clothing I object to, not sharing a meal with you, Elam.” Thomas wadded up his paper napkin into a tight ball.

“You have served many
Englischers
dressed like this at the meetinghouse and here at home.” Elam balanced two buttermilk biscuits atop his mound of food, grabbed a fork from a drawer, and walked to the table. He set down the plate but didn't sit.

“Is that what you consider yourself to be—an
Englischer
?” Thomas sounded more like a growling dog than a man addressing a member of his family. Up until now Elam had left his logging crew clothing below and come upstairs in traditional Amish garb.

Elam glared at him. “Not usually, only today. I understand we have a special guest.” He flashed a pearly-white grin at Prudence Summerton.

Amy set down her glass of milk. “Elam, this is my Aunt Prudence, visiting from upstate. Aunt Pru, this is John's younger
bruder
, Elam.”

Elam took a huge bite of biscuit and talked around the food. “Pleased to meet ya.” He swallowed and then shoved the remainder in his mouth.

“Likewise, I'm sure.” The older woman smiled, oddly amused.

“And I hear the lovebirds have patched things up. That's good news. John ain't never gonna find a prettier gal than this one, that's for sure.” He waved a chicken leg in Amy's general direction and then bit off a chunk. Crumbs of breading dropped onto the polished wood floor.

Amy turned bright pink, John a shade of deep plum, and Sally faded to ghostly white. Nora giggled, popping a brussels sprout into her mouth.

“So the weddin's back on? Hope I can stick around long enough to go to that. Plenty of good eats at a weddin'. Folks pull out all the stops whenever another good man bites the dust.” Elam licked his fingertips before selecting a thigh to eat next. Standing to dine didn't seem to bother him in the least.

“This man, however good or not, is
not
biting the dust.” John's words hung frozen in the warm kitchen air. He glared at Elam but made a great effort to release his clenched hands, one finger at a time.

“Just an expression, that's all.” Elam winked at John before turning his attention to Aunt Prudence. “So what do you think of
Harmony these days? A few more families, but not much else has changed. Ever get the idea that somebody closed the door and time just stopped here?” He lifted the plate up to his chin to shovel in an enormous amount of mashed potatoes.

Prudence tilted her head to one side. “People don't often fix things that aren't broken.” She dabbed her lips daintily with the napkin.

“Why don't you sit down before you make a mess on our freshly washed floor?” Nora added a schoolmarm inflection to the scolding.

Elam's face flushed to a particularly bright hue. Too bright. And his black eyes were entirely too shiny. At that moment Thomas realized something that might have been obvious to a more astute man: His brother was inebriated. Thomas rose to his full height and pushed back his chair. He reached the end of the table in a few long strides. Once they were eye to eye, Elam continued to eat as though the plate might suddenly be pulled from his hands. Thomas smelled the sour stink of cigarettes on his clothing and the faint but distinct odor of beer. “You may not sit with us,” he said. “Take your supper down to your room. I'll speak to you later.”

Elam's color heightened. “I won't eat Sally's tasty vittles down in a damp old basement.” And with that, he strode out the side door, grabbing another piece of chicken as he passed the stove.

Thomas exchanged glances with his pale, wide-eyed wife. “The time has come,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. To Prudence he nodded and said, “I apologize for my brother's behavior.” Then he threw on his chore coat and followed Elam out the door.

His youngest brother hadn't gone far. He sat on the porch swing chewing meat off the bone as though at a summertime picnic. “Ya know? That Sally does make some good fried chicken.” He smacked his lips to emphasize his point.

Thomas advanced until he stood a foot from the swing. “You're drunk.” It was a declaration of fact, not a question.

Elam wiped up the last of the gravy with his buttermilk biscuit. “Might have had a nip to take the edge off…meeting new relatives and all.” He laid the plate of bones beside him on the swing.

“You have no right to come to my table drunk and stinking of your infernal cigarettes.” His breath vaporized into white fog.

Elam lifted his chin and squinted. “I thought I'd like to have one final meal with my family before I leave. I will truly miss your wife's cooking. She's improved considerably since the early days,
jah
?”

Thomas ignored the second compliment to Sally, concentrating on the new information. “Where are you going? Did you find another job?”

“Nope. But I'm moving on, taking a road trip before we get buried in another avalanche. I'm heading south. Thought I would stop in Lancaster to see if anybody remembers me, and then I'll move on through Kentucky and on to Missouri. Maybe stop and see the Ozark Mountains, wherever they are.” Elam leaned back on the bench.

“How do you plan to get around? Hop freight trains?”

Elam scowled, not taking what he considered an insult lightly. “I'm no hobo, Thomas. I'm driving. I bought a car. I got my license and saved a few bucks. Making a fresh start where there's more to do than watch icicles drip five months a year.”

Thomas shifted his weight. “Is that right? Then I suggest you be on your way.” There was nothing warm or hospitable in his tone.

Elam glared from under his black eyelashes. “I'll start packing. It won't take me long.” He rose unsteadily to his feet with false bravado, stomped down the steps, and disappeared around the house.

Thomas gazed toward the empty fields feeling a pervasive sense of loss for someone not yet gone.
How did this happen? Was there
something I could have done to keep Elam from turning away from his heritage, his family, and his faith?

For the life of him, Thomas didn't know.

Two days later the sun rose to its winter zenith, offering a deceptively pleasant ambiance to the world despite frigid temperatures. Nora, Amy, John, Thomas, Sally, and their two sons stood in formation to bid Prudence goodbye. As the taxi driver loaded her suitcase into the trunk, even Nora felt tears moisten her eyes. Aunt Prudence was a remarkable woman—kind, patient, and gentle, yet still feisty and independent. She'd had a difficult life, but the Lord had blessed her with happiness in her later years.

Nora hoped to be like her one day. But not in the near future.

John hugged Prudence in his shy, backward fashion. Sally embraced her with spine-snapping vigor for so small a woman. Amy stood mute and teary-eyed, despite Aunt Prudence's assurance that she and Mr. Summerton would return for the wedding. Thomas promised to smooth matters with the bishop and district to make that possible. Nora gave her a hug, and then Amy kissed their aunt on both cheeks like a tourist before Prudence climbed into the backseat of the cab. With a toot of the horn, the taxi crunched down the driveway to the street and on to the bus depot.

“Don't worry. She'll be back.” Nora slipped an arm around Amy's waist, while John hovered on her other side.

“I know,” Amy murmured. “I'm just sad about all the wasted time.”

John waited until the others wandered off before buzzing a kiss across Amy's forehead. “See you at lunch,” he said next to her ear.

“Dinner, more likely. Could you hitch up the buggy, please?” asked Amy. “The roads aren't bad, and I'd like to run some errands in Harmony.”

“It'll be ready before you can layer on your warmest clothes.” John practically ran to the barn.

Amy watched him go with a sly expression on her face. Then she said to her sister, “Why don't you bundle up too and come with me? I have some phone calls to make and wish to stop at the bank. I'll treat you to lunch and a cappuccino later.”

Nora thought for a moment. “Why don't you just use Elam's phone again? I'm sure he wouldn't mind.”

Amy's carefree countenance faded. “Because he's gone, Nora. He left yesterday.”

“
Gone
?” Nora moved into face-to-face position. “What are you talking about?”

“Yesterday morning I went downstairs to ask to borrow his phone. I wanted to leave another message on the Realtor's answering machine. Elam was packing his stuff into two ratty old duffel bags. He said the battery was dead on his phone anyway.” Amy paused, as though
this
were of primary significance.

“Go on,” prodded Nora.

“He told me best wishes for the wedding and that I should tell everybody goodbye after he was gone. He wanted a day's head start so there wouldn't be any embarrassing scenes.”

Nora stamped her feet on the frozen ground to improve circulation, fighting the urge to shake the details out of her sister. “You didn't bother to ask where he was going?”

“Of course I did. He said he'd be taking a grand tour in his new car. Can you believe it?” she interjected. “Unbeknownst to everyone, he got his driver's license and purchased an automobile!”

Nora looked away, ashamed of her deception.

Amy didn't notice. “He's stopping in Pennsylvania and Kentucky, and he wants to see the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas for some strange reason. Then he'll settle for a while in Paradise where Sally came from. He said by then he'll be broke and will need to get a job.”

A dozen questions rose up Nora's dry throat, but suddenly Amy stomped her own feet. “Goodness, that wind cuts right through this shawl. We'll talk more on the way to town.” She bolted toward the porch, leaving her sister thunderstruck.

Nora waited until the kitchen door closed, and then she ran around the house to the outside cellar entrance. Half slipping down the icy steps, she entered the former residence of Elam Detweiler. Inexplicably, her heartbeat quickened as though she would soon face the man impossible to stop thinking about. She focused on the twin bed, neatly made with Sally's patchwork quilt, the rag rug beside it, and the rickety old bureau that leaned to one side. Several drawers were still open, as though he'd packed in a hurry. Nora gazed at the spots where Elam had stored his worldly possessions—the upturned milk crate, the shelf above the stationary tub, the row of pegs along the wall. Empty. Nothing remained of the occupant other than settling dust motes and the faint, stale odor of tobacco.

She felt an overwhelming, near-paralyzing sense of abandonment. How could he leave without as much as a simple goodbye? She stood in the gloom until the damp walls with hidden spiders began to close in on her. Then she ran up the interior stairs, not stopping until she reached the sanctity of her bedroom.