He hadn’t
heard the person enter, but in the midst of his meltdown, Nick became aware of
a pair of eyes on his back. Someone was
watching him. He stiffened, wiping his
eyes on the pillowcase and sucking in a few deep breaths. Then he rolled over.
Through the
pain that radiated from his tender ribs, he saw her – a teenage girl, standing
just inside the doorway. She was oddly
dressed, in a long-sleeved, blue dress and a white apron, and she wore a white
sort of bonnet over her straw-colored hair, which was pulled back into a
bun. She carried a pitcher in one
hand. When she saw Nick looking at her,
her cheeks flushed pink, and she said, “I’m sorry to disturb you. I didn’t know you’d woken. I was just bringing you some water, in case
you wanted to wash when you woke up.”
“I… thank
you,” Nick said, staring at her. He had
so many questions, he didn’t know which one to ask first.
“You’re
welcome.” The girl set the pitcher down
on the dresser top, next to a matching basin.
“My name is Analiese. And what is
yours?”
He blinked,
surprised that a girl her age would not have recognized him. It wasn’t ego that gave him this perception,
only experience. These days, he couldn’t
go anywhere without teenage girls following him around. He found that he was grateful to be anonymous
for once. “Nick,” he told her.
“I’m glad
to find you awake and speaking, Nick,” said Analiese. “I worried when I couldn’t rouse you last
night.”
He was
about to ask her how he’d gotten to her house, or wherever he was, but as he
watched her pour water from the pitcher into the basin, a crazy, startling
thought struck him. “I… I haven’t gone
back in time or something, have I?” It
didn’t seem as foolish a question as it sounded; as he looked wildly around the
room again, he realized that everything in it, including her, was
old-fashioned.
“What??” At first, she seemed taken aback, but then
she started to laugh.
“I’m serious! What year is it?” he demanded, sitting up
again, despite the protests of his ribs.
“It is
1999.”
“Oh.” Nick slumped back against the pillow,
relieved and oddly disappointed at the same time. “Well, you mind telling me where the heck I
am, then?”
“I
apologize. Of course, this must all seem
old-fashioned to you. You’re
English.” Analiese smiled. “I am Amish.
You’re on my family’s farm, outside of Paradise.”
“Paradise?”
Nick repeated, glancing skeptically around again. “Paradise, what?”
“Pennsylvania,”
she said, as if this should have been obvious.
“Do you not live in these parts?”
He shook
his head. “I live in Florida. I was… traveling, staying in Philadelphia.”
Her
eyebrows lifted. “We’re nearly a hundred
miles west of Philadelphia.”
“Wow…” He raked a hand through his hair. It felt matted and greasy.
“May I ask
what happened to you?” she asked timidly.
“How you came to be so far from where you were staying?”
“If I can
ask you how I got here,” he replied.
“Of
course.” She swallowed. “I came across you late last night, lying on
the ground near Leaman’s Bridge. You
were unconscious. I… I was hesitant to
bring you here, but then I remembered the parable of the Good Samaritan, and I
knew I could not pass you by.”
“Why didn’t
you just call an ambulance or something?” Nick asked without thinking.
She flushed
pink. “I am sorry. We have no telephone here. There is one in the town we can use, if
there’s a number you’d like me to call.
You’re right that I should have gone to town and called last night. But I was afraid to. I was already out well after dark, close to
midnight, riding home in Lukas’s buggy.
Lukas is my…” She trailed off,
seemingly lost for words.
“Boyfriend?”
Nick supplied.
Her cheeks
reddened even more, but she gave a curt nod.
“I suppose so, yes. My mother and
father do not approve of my being with him so late. I was in a hurry to get home. Lukas helped me lift you into his buggy and
carry you here.”
“Do your
parents know I’m here?”
Analiese
shook her head quickly. “No. They would not approve of my bringing a
strange boy home, either, even for a charitable reason.”
“But…” His eyes swept the room once more. “Aren’t I in your house? Won’t they find me here?”
“No,” she
said again. “This is the grossdaadi haus – grandfather
house. It’s on the back of our property,
behind the house where my family lives.
My opa and oma lived here when they were alive, but it’s stood empty for
long enough now that no one will come here.”
“Oh.” Nick’s mind was spinning. He was in the middle of nowhere, tucked away
in a small room, in a little house where no one came, with no phone… no lights, no motorcar, not a single luxury…
like Robinson Crusoe, it’s as primitive as can be… He cracked a smile, singing in his head. We been
spendin’ most our lives livin’ in an Amish paradise…
He didn’t
know much about the Amish, besides what he’d seen in movies – and Weird Al’s
music video. He did know they were
deeply religious, so he had to assume he was in a safe place, surrounded by
good people. Still, he couldn’t help but
think of a movie he’d seen once, Misery,
about a famous writer who was held hostage and tortured by a crazy nurse who
had saved him from a car wreck. He could
hear Kathy Bates saying, “I’m your number
one fan…” What if this girl wasn’t
Amish at all, but a crazy fan who was feeding him an elaborate cover story to
explain why he was lying in her house instead of a hospital?
He eyed
Analiese warily. “Well… I won’t be here
long,” he said pointedly, watching for her reaction. But she didn’t show any signs of wanting to
prevent him from leaving.
“Of
course,” she said, with an understanding smile.
“You’ll want to be examined by a doctor.
You must have taken quite a hard blow to the head. Do you know what happened to you?”
Nick
hesitated. “I was… attacked. The guys who did it left me for dead.”
Her eyes
widened. “But why??”
He shook
his head. “It’s a long story. I didn’t do anything wrong; I just saw
something I shouldn’t have, and they wanted me dead for it. But they killed my friend instead.” His voice choked on the last few words, and
his eyes refilled with tears. Ashamed,
he turned his head away from her.
He heard
Analiese’s faint gasp. “I’m terribly
sorry about the death of your friend,” she whispered. “I will pray for his soul, and for you.”
“Thanks,”
Nick muttered, though he knew prayers would do nothing for Kevin now. It was the sort of gesture Brian would
appreciate, though.
Brian… His heart ached as he
thought of his best friend and what he must be going through, dealing with the
loss of his cousin. Would he blame Nick
if he knew why Kevin had been shot?
“I’ll leave
you now,” Analiese said after a moment.
“I need to return to my chores, and I’m sure you’d like some
privacy. There’s soap and clean towels
on the dresser, if you want to wash.
Some of my opa’s old clothes are still in the dresser drawers, if you’d
prefer clean clothing. I’ll come back to
check on you later.”
She was
gone before Nick looked back. His eyes
rested on the pile of neatly-folded towels sitting next to the washbasin. He raised a hand to his face. It felt sticky with grime and tears. His split chin had scabbed over and was
crusty with dried blood. It would feel
good to wash.
He struggled
to get up from the bed, moving slowly for the sake of his tender ribs and
throbbing head. He staggered dizzily to
the dresser and picked up a plain, white cloth from the stack of towels. Dipping it into the basin of warm water, he
ran it slowly over his face, savoring the soothing sensation as the layer of
grime ran off with the water. Spotting a
bar of homemade soap, he lathered the washcloth up with that, too, and
scrubbed. Soon the white cloth was the
color of rust, and the water was murky, swirling with blood and mud. His face felt clean and smooth again, except
for the cut on his chin.
He still
felt dirty in the clothes he’d worn all night, which were stiff and
stale-smelling from dried creek water, so he pulled off his shirt and used a
fresh, soapy cloth to wipe under his arms.
Looking down at himself, he saw large bruises across his ribcage, where
he’d fallen against the stairs. He
prodded them tenderly, wincing at the pain they caused.
Not wanting
to put his smelly t-shirt back on, he remembered what Analiese had told him
about her grandfather’s clothes. He
opened a dresser drawer and found several shirts, folded into a neat pile. He pulled out the one on top and held it
up. It was plain white, made of a coarse
material, and had long sleeves. It
looked big enough, so he put it on, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He traded his baggy jeans for a pair of
black, high-waisted pants he found in another drawer. He felt uncomfortable in the old-fashioned
clothing, but at least they were clean.
They felt and smelled better than his own.
As he
wadded up his old clothes, something slipped from the pocket of his jeans and
fell to the wooden floor with a heavy clunk.
He looked down to see his cell phone, the faceplate broken off. He bent down and scooped the phone up,
feeling sick with the realization that his captors really had had no intention
of letting him live if they hadn’t bothered to take his phone. The cell phone was turned off, its screen
black and empty. When he held down the
power button to turn it on, nothing happened.
Frowning, he pried off the back to check the battery. A trickle of water ran out, dripping onto the
floor. The phone was dead. With a sigh, Nick crammed it into the pile of
dirty clothes, which he set on the floor in the corner by the dresser.
In his
borrowed clothing, Nick crossed the tiny room to the single window and peered
out. Outside, there was a garden, with
neat rows of leafy, green plants. A dirt
path led to a large barn at the edge of the yard, and beyond the barn were
rolling fields of farm crops for as far as his eyes could see. Analiese hadn’t been lying about his
whereabouts.
Suddenly eager to explore, he crept to the door of the bedroom and poked his
head out. He heard nothing and saw no
one, so he stepped cautiously over the threshold. He emerged into a sitting room with
hard-backed, wooden chairs and end tables that held kerosene lamps, all
arranged around a stone fireplace. Off
of the sitting room was a small kitchen, with a table and chairs, an
old-fashioned ice box, and a wood-burning stove. He was relieved to find a tiny bathroom, as
well, with a clawfoot bathtub and running water in the sink. He suddenly felt the urge to relieve himself,
so he used the facilities before returning to the bedroom.
By then,
Nick’s head was pounding again, so he stretched out across the quilt that
covered the bed and closed his eyes. He
listened to the light rain fall outside the window, trying to focus on that and
nothing else, and within minutes, he had fallen back to sleep.
***
He woke up
when Analiese came back to check on him, bringing with her a tray of food. Nick didn’t realize he was hungry until he
smelled the homemade soup and fresh bread.
All of a sudden, his stomach panged hollowly, and he felt ravenous.
“Thank
you,” he said, sitting up to take the tray.
“Do you
feel well enough to eat at the table?” she asked.
“Oh – yeah,
sure,” said Nick, easing himself off of the bed. His ribs twinged painfully as he stood
up. “What time is it, anyway?” he asked,
as he followed her into the kitchen he’d explored earlier and sat down at the
table.
“Half past
noon. My dat and brothers just finished
lunch and went back to the fields. I
managed to sneak some food for you as I was cleaning the kitchen.”
She set the
tray down on the table in front of him, then perched on the edge of the chair
across from him, watching him nervously.
Feeling rather like a zoo animal at feeding time, Nick sampled the soup. “Oh my God… this tastes awesome,” he groaned,
as the warm soup slid down the back of his dry throat. He eagerly dipped his spoon into the bowl for
more, slurping up another mouthful. “Did
you make this?”
“My mam,”
Analiese replied.
“It’s
really good.” He tore a piece off a
piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth.
“So’s the bread,” he added thickly, swallowing.
Analiese
offered a tentative smile. “That I did
make.”
“Wow,
you’re good. Cooking… that’s a real
talent. I’m no good at it, that’s for
sure,” he said, managing a smile back.
“You should be proud.”
She
blushed, lowering her eyes, and shook her head.
“No. Pride is a sin. Cooking is a skill every woman should know.”
Nick
snorted. “You’ve never met my mom. Her idea of cooking is frozen pizza and Hamburger
Helper.”
Analiese
looked up again, her eyes filled with confusion. “What?”
Finishing
another bite of bread, he shook his head.
“Never mind. Let’s just say, this
is a lot better.” He washed the food
down with a swig of milk. The milk
tasted funny, and at first, he wondered if it had gone bad; then he realized it
had probably come straight from the cow.
He asked,
and Analiese nodded. “We raise dairy
cows,” she said. “Our milk is always
fresh. We grow our own food or buy it
from neighboring farms.”
“Wow,” said
Nick, looking down at the vegetables swimming in his soup. He thought they looked different than the
kind one found in a can of Campbell’s, and they certainly tasted better. His family had never even had a garden. The only fresh vegetables he ate came from
the veggie trays set up backstage at shows.
He was in a very different world.
“I don’t know much about the Amish,” he admitted after a minute, chasing
a carrot with his spoon. “What exactly
do you guys believe? I know you don’t, like,
believe in electricity or driving cars or anything.”
“We believe
in living simply and separately,” answered Analiese. “The Bible teaches us not to ‘love the world
or the things in the world. The love of
the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world –
the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches – comes
not from the Father but from the world.
And the world and its desire are passing away, but those who do the will
of God live forever.’ We do not value
material possessions or luxuries. We are
plain people. We live off the land and
make our own goods. We own only the bare
essentials, for to live in excess would be sinful.”
Nick felt
his face heat up, as he pictured his lavish hotel suite, his pimped-out tour
bus, the sprawling California ranch he’d bought for his parents, and the
oceanfront mansion he’d lived in with Mandy.
His life was filled with luxury and excess, and he’d never before felt
ashamed of it. Analiese’s tone was
matter-of-fact, rather than judgmental, but he was sure she would be appalled
to see where he lived. “That must be
hard,” he offered, unsure of what else to say.
“It is not
so difficult. We separate ourselves from
the English, to avoid the temptations of your world. When we do encounter such temptations, we’re
reminded of the sacrifices we make for the Lord.”
Nick
nodded, without really understanding. He
couldn’t fathom living the way she did, not just without luxuries, but without
basic, modern conveniences and comforts.
His family had been poor when he was a child; he knew what it was like
to go without, but not by choice.
Choosing such a lifestyle was a concept he couldn’t comprehend.
He finished
his lunch and said again, “Thank you.
That was really good.”
Analiese
smiled. “You’re welcome.” She promptly stood up and picked up the
tray. “I should get back to the house. I didn’t intend to stay so long.”
“It’s
okay,” Nick replied quickly. “I liked
talking to you.”
She
blushed. “I haven’t had many conversations
with English boys. I hope I didn’t bore
you, going on so about our beliefs.”
“Not at
all. I asked, didn’t I?” He grinned.
She smiled
shyly back, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair into her white cap. “Stay here until night falls,” she told
him. “Lukas will come after dark, once
my parents are in bed, and we will take you to town in his buggy. There is a telephone you can use there.”
Nick
nodded. “Good, ‘cause my cell phone
died.”
“I’ll be
back tonight,” she promised, and then she was gone. Through the front window, he watched her walk
swiftly across the yard to a large, white house, her long, blue skirt bustling
around her legs. She didn’t look back.
Sighing, he
looked around the sparse sitting room.
“What am I supposed to do ‘til then?”
***
True to her
word, Analiese returned after dark, accompanied by a wiry, black-haired boy a
few years younger than Nick. “This is
Lukas,” she introduced him. “And Lukas,
this is Nick.”
“Pleased to
meet you,” said Lukas, extending his hand.
His manner was polite, yet somewhat stiff.
Nick shook
hands with him and replied, “Nice to meet you, too. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”
Lukas gave
a single, solemn nod. “We did only what
the Lord would want us to do.”
“We should
go now,” Analiese spoke up between them.
“It is late, and I’m sure Nick wants to get back to Philadelphia as soon
as possible.”
Nick nodded
in agreement, but as he followed them outside, his stomach began to churn with
apprehension. Lukas’s dark gray buggy
was parked outside the main house. The
large chestnut pulling it pawed at the ground, while Lukas and Analiese
clambered onto the front seat. Nick
climbed up after Analiese and squeezed onto the seat beside her, wedging her in
between Lukas and him.
“Ya!” Lukas gave the reigns a
flick, and the horse plodded up the dirt path that led to a country road. Though the road was empty at this time of
night, it seemed strange to Nick to be traveling along a paved road in a
horse-drawn carriage. He thought such
things were reserved for trips around Central Park.
When they
approached the same covered bridge the two men had stopped at the night before,
Nick’s stomach churned faster. He felt
nauseous, remembering the pain and the fear of knowing he was about to
die. “This is where we found you,” said
Lukas, and Nick nodded, his throat very dry.
“They left
me for dead in the creek,” he managed to whisper. “I pulled myself out.”
“You must
have been blessed with the strength and courage to survive,” Analiese said, her
arm brushing his.
Nick just
shrugged in reply. As the buggy rumbled
across the bridge, he didn’t feel very courageous. He was afraid. He half-expected Joey and D to be waiting at
the other end of the bridge, to jump out of the darkness and ambush the
buggy. Nothing like that happened, of
course, but that didn’t stop Nick from looking around nervously, squinting
through the shadows, for the rest of the trip.
He felt
some relief when he saw the first lights of the town on the horizon, but even
when Lukas had eased the horse and buggy to a stop near a pay phone at a gas
station on the outside of town, Nick’s stomach felt twisted and tight. He jumped down from the buggy and walked over
to the phone, but as he picked up the receiver, he realized he still didn’t
have his wallet.
“Um… I
don’t have any quarters,” he said apologetically, turning to face the buggy
again. Analiese looked at Lukas, who
conjured a handful of spare change from his pocket. “Thanks,” Nick said gratefully and deposited
the coins into the pay phone. When he
heard the dial tone, he punched in a number from memory and waited nervously
for the call to go through.
At first,
he could only hear the sound of his own shallow breathing in the receiver.
Then, a
heart-wrenchingly familiar voice answered, “Hello?”
***