Authors: Vannetta Chapman
“We wouldn't want the children to be placed in two different homes,” Andy said.
“Neither would I. We'll do our bestâ”
“Where will you take them? To Tulsa? How could living in the city be better than living here?”
“As I said before, we have a specific process, and it works. I can promise you that both Mateo and Mia will be well cared for.”
Mia crawled into Sarah's lap at this point, putting her head on Sarah's shoulder and staring at Mateo. He didn't know what to do. He thought they should stay here, close to where their mother had left them. Besides, he liked it here. He liked being with another boy his age and having food to eat.
Sarah was brushing at her eyes. Was she crying? Did she care about them so much?
Mateo realized he had to say something. He might not have another chance because the man named Tommy was already standing up and speaking with the police officer.
“We want to stay with Sarah.”
His voice came out smaller than he expected, but that didn't stop him. “Please,” he added.
Everyone was staring at him now.
Sarah was the first to react. “You speak English?”
“Un poquito.”
“He said that he understands a little.” Tommy squatted down in front of him. “Can you tell us where your mom is, Mateo?”
“No. She saidâ¦she said she would be backâ¦
en poco tiempo
.” He tried to think the last three words in English, but they wouldn't come.
“Is this the first time your mom has left you alone?”
Mateo shook his head. He didn't want to say anything bad about his mom, but he didn't think he should lie either.
And though he'd fought hard against giving in to the feelings of hopelessness and uncertainty, his eyes filled with tears. He allowed himself to be pulled into Sarah's arms.
“It's okay, Mateo. We're going to work this out. It's going to be fine.”
He heard Tommy sigh and sit back down. “It's plain the children have bonded with you, and I'd like to leave them here. I can't, though. I don't have the authority to make a decision like that. Maybe if we had a Bridge parent close by⦔
“I'm a Bridge parent.”
Mateo raised up his head.
It was the bishop who had spoken. Now he was blowing a bubble with his gum. He popped it and tapped his cane against the floor.
“Mary Beth and I went through the training years ago.”
“I never knew that.” Andy had been looking pretty miserable. But now, when Mateo peeked at him, he saw that Sarah's big brother was smiling. Surely that was a good sign.
“It's not something we put in the
Budget
.” The bishop laughed. “Check your system. Levi and Mary Beth Troyer.”
“And you'd be willing to take these two children on a temporary basis?”
“Of course. They will be close to Sarah, and she can visit until we work this out or the mother is found.”
It wasn't the answer that Mateo wanted, but Sarah seemed to trust this man, and Andy was definitely smiling.
He squatted in front of the little boy. “Levi is our bishop, Mateo. He's a
gut
man, and his wife cooks even better than Sarah.”
“But we want to stay here.”
“I know you do, and I would let you if it was possible. Sometimes we have to accept
Gotte's wille
,
ya
?”
Mateo didn't know what he meant by that, but he nodded because Andy seemed to be waiting for him to do so.
It wasn't as easy for Mia. She cried and clung to Sarah's neck as they tried to place her in the buggy. Eventually, the bishop peeled her arms away and placed her in the backseat next to Mateo.
Sarah stuck her head in the buggy and said, “I'll come see you tomorrow. I promise.”
And then they were following the police car into the dark evening. A soft rain had begun to fall, and Mateo realized they were fortunate not to be in the cold, dilapidated barn or the abandoned trailer. But as they turned the corner, with Tommy's car behind them, he looked back at the house he'd been in since the night before, and he wished with all of his might that they would be able to return.
S
arah was up well before her normal time.
She had the boys' lunches packed and breakfast on the table. She tried to clean the mess she'd made in the kitchen, but her emotions were tumbling up and downâexcitement over seeing Mateo and Mia again, followed by deep sorrow over all that had happened to the two children. Her stomach rebelled when she tried to eat a piece of toast, and her hands shook as she swiped at the counter with a dishcloth.
“How are you doing?” Andy asked.
“
Gut
. Iâ¦I miss them.”
“I know you do. This will work out, Sarah. Somehow it will.”
“I'd like to drive over to the bishop's. See how they're doing.”
“I thought you might. I'll harness Dusty to the buggy after breakfast.”
Everyone was somber that morning. Andy tried to tease Isaac about his hair sticking up, but her youngest brother only stared at the two of them and asked, “When can I see Mateo again?”
“I don't know. We're working on that.”
“That's a terrible answer, Sarah. It's bad enough about
Dat
and
Mamm
, but now I finally have one
gut
friend, and you gave him away.”
Sarah started to answer, but Isaac wasn't listening. He bounded up from the table and shot out the back door.
“Leave him be,” Andy said.
Luke reached for the bowl of oatmeal. When he tried to dump some onto his plate, it stuck stubbornly to the large serving spoon. He took his own spoon and pried it loose, before smiling at Sarah. “At least you're attempting to feed the troops.”
“We're not troops,” Henry pointed out. “We're family.”
“Well, I'm pretty sure that Isaac thought Mateo and Mia were family too.”
“After only one night?” Andy shook his head. “I liked them, honestly I did, but they're not pets, you know. They're children, and they need a
gut
home.”
“We have a
gut
home,” Luke said. He shoved a spoonful of lumpy oatmeal into his mouth so he wouldn't have to explain himself.
“We do, but that doesn't mean
Gotte
intends us to share it with every homeless person we meet.”
“Not that many homeless folks in Cody's Creek.” Henry reached for a handful of raisins. Instead of putting them on top of his oatmeal, he tossed them into his mouth.
“Everyone will feel better this afternoon,” Andy promised. “We'll get back to normal faster than you can say Peter Piper.”
But no one was interested in alliteration games. Luke continued to pry his oatmeal out of his bowl, and Henry focused on the raisins and nuts. Sarah didn't see Isaac again until Luke had started down the lane, headed toward the schoolhouse. As she watched from the window, Isaac ran from the barn and joined him.
She wished she knew how to comfort her brother, but she was in no place to encourage someone else. She'd spent most of the night falling asleep, only to wake and wonder where Mia was hiding. Suddenly she would remember all that had happened, and an ache would pierce her heart. After a time, she'd slowly fall back into a restless sleep only to repeat the cycle an hour later.
All that was behind her, though.
This morning she was going to see the bishop.
She wanted to learn what she had to do in order to bring Mateo and Mia home.
The drive to the bishop's house calmed her nerves. She'd barely knocked on the door when Mary Beth answered. The woman could be a storybook illustration of an Amish grandmotherâmatronly, neat, calm. “Levi's gone to town, but I suspect you're here to see the children.”
“Is that all right?”
“Of course.” She led Sarah into the living room, where Mateo was sitting on the couch reading a book to Mia.
When they looked up and saw her, a smile burst through their formerly serious expressions.
Mia ran to her, arms lifted high, and said, “Up, please.”
Mary Beth seemed surprised. “First words I've heard from her.”
Mateo was a little more reserved, but not much. When she walked to the couch, he threw his arms around her waist, and then he quickly stepped back as if embarrassed by his show of emotion. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Hi, Mateo.”
They grinned at each other a moment. Then Sarah sat and patted the seat beside her. “Say, why didn't you tell me you can speak English?”
Mateo shrugged. It was a habit of the child's. Before she'd thought he was merely disinterested. Now it occurred to her that perhaps he was buying time to search for the right word.
He settled for, “I don't speak well.” As if that was explanation enough, he picked up the book and showed her what he'd been reading.
When they sat together on the couch, the anxiety Sarah had been feeling melted away.
Mary Beth kindly murmured, “I'll give you all a few moments alone.” She busied herself in the kitchen, and twenty minutes later called them all to the table for a snack. She'd brewed hot tea for her and Sarah and poured milk for the children. In the center of the table sat a plate of oatmeal cookies.
Mia ate half a cookie and proceeded to break the rest into tiny crumbs on her plate. Mateo ate two, and though they tried to steer the conversation to safe topics, he asked, “When can we come to your house, Sarah?
Yo quiero
â¦that is, I want to see Isaac.”
Mary Beth sipped her hot tea and allowed Sarah to answer.
“I don't know at this point, Mateo. I don't want to lie and say I do know. But I can promise you that I'm trying. Okay?”
“
Ya
, okay.”
Sarah and Mary Beth exchanged a smile at the Amish emphasis on his first word.
“Will you take Mia to wash her hands, Mateo?” Mary Beth stood and collected their dishes. “After that maybe you can finish reading the story to her.”
Mia was already rubbing at her eyes, but she allowed herself to be led into the other room.
They had barely left the kitchen when Sarah turned to her bishop's wife and said, “Tell me how to be a Bridge parent. I want to bring Mateo and Mia home.”
I
t's not a decision to be made easily,” Mary Beth cautioned.
“I'm sure it's not, butâ¦but if it meant that Mateo and Mia could come home, I will commit myself to doing whatever is required.” When Mary Beth didn't respond, Sarah pushed forward. “I'm sure they'll be fine here, but I would like to bring them back to our house, at least until their mother is found.”
Mary Beth pulled out some crochet work. “Tell me about finding them.”
So she did. She described Mateo running out in front of her buggy, how it had terrified her, how she'd known in that moment that the boy she'd seen was not a figment of her imagination.
“You went into the old trailer?”
“
Ya
, with Isaac and Luke. Perhaps that's why they feel so close to Mateo and Mia. We found them there, living in a tower of boxes in the middle of that abandoned trailer. Actually, they ran away when they first saw us. They were frightened, I suppose. Then Mia tripped and began to cry. It was all we could do to convince them to go back inside, and then to leave with us. Mary Beth, they were so cold and wet and hungry and desperate. It's not a thing you easily forget.”
“I'm sure it's not. I'm also sure⦔ she leaned forward and tapped the table with her crochet needle. “I'm sure
Gotte
meant for you to find the children. If you hadn't stopped, if you hadn't gone inâ¦well, there's no telling what would have happened.”
Sarah thought about that for a moment. She felt restless and needed something to do with her hands while she talked, while she worked out what she was feeling and what steps she planned to take next. She spied a bowl full of potatoes in the sink.
“Do you need those peeled?”
Mary Beth nodded, not the least surprised.
“Ya, danki.”
Once she'd washed the potatoes, located a paring knife, and sat back down at the table, Sarah was ready to tell the rest of her story. As she peeled the potatoes, she described the first night, how Mia had fallen asleep in her arms, and the next day's laundry fiasco, with Paul walking in on a dripping Mateo and a missing Mia.
“He found her squatting on a bottom shelf in the mudroom. I'm not sure why she hides.”
“It's happened twice here already. Once she was behind the couch, and another time she'd hopped into the tub and laid down with her blanket. I found her sound asleep there.”