Barbara Cameron

Return to Paradise


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shook her head. “You know I would come tell you. We’ve talked about this. If either of us heard from him, we’d tell the other. It wouldn’t matter if we’re supposed to shun him. We’d tell each other.”

      “He needs to come home,” Waneta said, sobbing now. “He and Samuel and John. They need to come home or they may never see their dat again.”

      ***

      David sat in his new-to-him pickup truck in the driveway of his Englisch friend Bill’s house.

      It had taken him a year to save up enough for the five-year-old pickup truck, but he’d firmly resisted the temptation to get a flashy new truck because it meant buying on credit. He wasn’t dead set against credit. Sometimes a person had to use it. Land was expensive in Lancaster County. Unless you inherited it you often had to arrange for a bank loan.

      The memory of the farm he’d grown up on flashed into his mind. He firmly pushed it away. He didn’t miss all the arguments with his dat and with the bishop.

      David missed Lavina, but there was no point in thinking about her. He couldn’t have her so he had to keep pushing her out of his mind. After being away from her for a whole year now, he was down to only having to do that a couple of times a day.

      He wondered what she would think of the truck. One of their favorite things had always been to go for a buggy ride.

      “Ready for your first ride?” Bill asked as he got into passenger seat.

      “Yeah.”

      “Where are we headed?”

      David shrugged. “I don’t know. Where shall we go?”

      “Let’s just do some country roads, get you used to the truck.”

      “And not scare you in Paradise traffic?”

      “You didn’t scare me when I was teaching you to drive.”

      “Right.”

      Bill chuckled. “Well, not much, anyway. Now, teaching my younger brother, that was scary. Kid has such a lead foot.”

      David went through the steps Bill had taught him to do prior to turning on the ignition. Fasten seat belt. Check. Position rearview mirrors. Check. Check gas gauge. Check. Release parking brake. Check. Turn on ignition. Check. Put car in gear. Check. Look for traffic.

      “You forgot a step.”

      David stopped the truck before he left the driveway and turned to his friend. “What?”

      “You forgot to check out your appearance, dude.” Bill pulled the visor down and checked his hair, smoothing it with one hand, then checked out his smile before he turned the visor back. “C’mon, don’t be shy. You want to look good for the ladies when you cruise.”

      With a laugh, David pulled down his visor and checked out his appearance. After months, he was still not used to seeing himself with an Englisch haircut. He hadn’t recognized himself in the glass store window he’d passed the day after the haircut. He’d had to take a second look, see that it was him, see the dark blue eyes and square jaw, the brown, almost black hair.

      “And don’t forget the shades,” Bill said, passing him the pair he’d urged David to buy. “They’re not just to look cool. You have to be careful about glare when you’re driving.”

      “So much to remember. It was easier to just hitch up a horse.”

      “But wait ’til you get this baby out on the road and feel the horsepower under the hood,” Bill said, stretching out his long legs. He tilted his own sunglasses down and looked at David over the top of them. “Not that I’m urging you to speed.”

      “Not going to do that,” David said firmly. “Speeding tickets are a waste of good money.”

      “Wise man. Too bad I didn’t think that way when I first started driving. ’Course, it’s part of growing up, I guess. In my culture, I mean.”

      “Guys in their rumschpringe race their buggies,” David said as he checked for traffic and eased out of the driveway. “You’d be surprised the speed some of them can get out of them. Sometimes the Amish buy horses that have been retired from racing.”

      They rode for a while in silence.

      “How’s the truck feel?”

      “Gut—good,” he corrected himself. “It will help me with work. Sometimes the boss needs something delivered and he doesn’t have enough trucks.”

      “When you have a pickup people will be asking you to help them with all sorts of things,” Bill told him. “I can’t tell you how many people have asked me to help them move.”

      “I like to help people.”

      “I know. You’re a good guy.”

      David didn’t feel like a good guy. What would Bill think if he knew why he’d left his Amish community? If he knew he’d walked away from a woman he’d promised to marry? He wouldn’t think he was so good then.

      But Bill, thankfully, had offered friendship without prying. It was Bill who was good, helping him find a job, a place to rent and now a vehicle when he needed one. He’d invited David to his church but David wasn’t ready for that yet. Maybe someday.

      “You doin’ okay?” Bill asked him.

      David gave him a quick glance. “Yeah. Why?”

      “You just seemed a little down when I got in the truck and you don’t act like you’re enjoying it. Are you sorry you didn’t buy a new one?”

      “No. I don’t want something I can’t afford. And this’ll do fine for work.”

      “You’re being smart. Let me tell you, I wish I hadn’t gotten into so much debt buying my first truck.” Bill tapped his fingers on his knee.

      David found himself driving down roads he’d only driven in a buggy. Now he was in an Englisch vehicle and needed to slow down and be careful of the Amish buggies. He passed the buggies of two former friends, but they didn’t recognize him in his truck and he didn’t wave. No point in getting his feelings hurt if they didn’t return his wave.

      “Hey, you okay?”

      He glanced at Bill. “Yeah, why?”

      “How’s it feel to be near the old neighborhood?”

      “Fine.”

      But it wasn’t. He hadn’t been anywhere near his former Amish community since he’d left. Not having transportation had kept him in town and kept him from the temptation of trying to see Lavina . . .

      “Hungry?” Bill broke into his thoughts. “There’s a great place for burgers about a mile ahead.”

      It was a little early for lunch but that was fine. He nodded. “Sure.”

      Lunch might be a great way to thank Bill for helping him buy the truck. The restaurant was closer to where he used to live than he liked, but there probably wouldn’t be anyone he knew having lunch in the middle of a workday. He parked and started to get out of the truck when a beep sounded. Startled, he looked back and found Bill grinning.

      “Gotta take the keys if you want to find the truck here when you come back.” Bill shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he watched David retrieve the keys from the ignition and lock the truck. “What happens when someone tries to steal your horse and buggy?”

      “No one does.”

      “Hmm.”

      They went inside and found a booth. David realized that Bill was watching him over the top of his menu. “What?”

      “You sure you’re okay here?”

      What a friend. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry that someone’s going to come yell at me for