The Courtship Basket Page 4

  Dat nodded. “Ya, I will. Danki. You go get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

  “Gut nacht.” Mike tucked his father into his bed while considering the irony that he had put both his young brother and his father to bed in the same night.

  Mike rubbed his temple as he padded back to the kitchen. He gasped when he remembered the pot of milk on the burner. He rushed to the stove and found that the milk had evaporated and the bottom of the pot was black. He flipped off the burner and moved the pot to the back of the stovetop.

  Mike slumped against the counter and covered his face with his hands as the anxiety of the day overwhelmed him. He needed sleep, and he needed strength. How could he carry this load alone? His cousins couldn’t be here all the time.

  The question lingered in the back of his mind as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom to dress for bed and get his pillow and blanket. His thoughts moved to his mother. Mamm had an unfailing faith. At times like this, she would tell him he needed to pray more.

  As Mike savored the memories of his beautiful mother, he walked back downstairs, dropped onto the sofa, and took her advice.

  CHAPTER 3

  “HOW WAS JOHN LANTZ TODAY?” MAMM ASKED AS SHE TOOK a roast out of the oven. “Was he better than yesterday?”

  “Ya, he was a little better.” Rachel set the dinner plates on the table. “He didn’t bully anyone on the playground, but he’s still not participating in class. He won’t read aloud or sing with the other kinner. He also doesn’t talk to them. Luke King asked John if he wanted to help him sweep the floor, and John didn’t answer. He just kept staring at his desk.”

  “Ach, no.” Mamm turned around. “That’s so sad.”

  Rachel nodded. “Ya, I know.” She set the last dinner plate at the head of the table for her father. “I don’t understand why John went from being a little excited to be at school on Monday to being so unhappy. I feel bad for him, and I want to help him.”

  “It sounds like he needs some attention and love.” Mamm frowned. “You can try to get him to talk to you. Maybe he’ll tell you what’s wrong.”

  “I’ve tried that, but he won’t talk. I tried to get him alone again today before his driver came to get him, and he only stared down at his shoes. He’s a very sad little bu.” Rachel shook her head. “His bruder didn’t respond to my journal entry about John’s behavior. I’m really concerned about John, but I don’t know what to do.”

  “You mentioned that their dat is ill, so maybe the older bruder didn’t have time to write back last night,” Mamm said as she peeled a potato.

  “Ya, you’re probably right.” Rachel pondered her mother’s thought and an idea struck her. She should try to give Mike Lantz a call. She had the class roster in her bag. Although it was against the school board rules to contact a parent or guardian directly, she couldn’t stop herself from worrying about John. “I’m going to make a quick phone call. I’ll finish setting the table when I get back.” She retrieved her tote bag from the mudroom, pulled out the class roster, put on her sweater, and went out to the phone shanty next to the barn.

  She dialed the number, and after a few rings a masculine voice sounded. “You’ve reached the Lantz farm. Please leave a message and we’ll call you back.”

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Hello, this is Rachel Fisher. I’m a teacher at John’s school. I wrote in John’s daily journal about his behavior, and I didn’t hear from you. I need to speak with you as soon as possible. John hasn’t been participating in class, and he pushed a kind off a swing yesterday. I’d like to discuss this with you, so please write in the journal or call me.” She rattled off her home number and then hung up. She hoped she’d hear from John’s brother soon so she could figure out a way to help the boy.

  THE DOCTOR’S WORDS ECHOED IN MIKE’S MIND AS HE SAT beside his father in the van that evening. Dat’s lab work looked terrible, and he was lethargic. The doctor had shared the obvious: his father was getting weaker and weaker. His fall in the bathroom last night had illustrated this point.

  Mike stared out the van window as the lush fields of neighboring farms rushed by in a blur of greens and yellows. His back was sore from sleeping on the old, lumpy sofa. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, trying in vain to get comfortable, but he’d only managed a few hours of sleep before it was time to do chores before going to work.

  He had left the shop early to go with Dat to his doctor’s appointment, and he could immediately tell by the doctor’s expression that the news wasn’t going to be what he’d hoped. The treatments weren’t working as well as the doctor had anticipated, and his father’s lab results weren’t where they should be.

  Mike’s stomach tightened with anxiety. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Dat after tragically losing his mother and then his stepmother. He couldn’t imagine the thought of John growing up an orphan. He and John both needed their father.

  “I want to stop the treatments.” Dat’s voice was grave as he sat beside him in the seat.

  “What?” Mike’s eyes widened as he studied Dat. Had he heard him correctly?

  “I want to stop the dialysis.” Dat’s expression was blank, void of emotion. “I don’t want to go through this anymore.”

  “Dat.” Mike lowered his voice, hoping the driver couldn’t hear them over the sound of the country music pouring through the speakers at the front of the van. “You know what will happen if you stop dialysis, right?” His words came in a rush as fear crawled up his neck and dried his throat. “Your body will fill up with toxins, and you’ll die. You need dialysis to filter your blood the way your kidneys can’t.”

  “I know.” Weariness contorted Dat’s gaunt features. “I’m tired, Michael. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. All I am is a burden to you. You carry too much of a load as it is. You don’t need me falling.”

  “You’re not a burden.” Mike emphasized his shaky words. “You’re mei dat. John and I need you.”

  Dat nodded and turned his attention toward the window on the opposite side of the van.

  “I need you to be strong, Dat,” Mike continued. “You need to be strong for John and also for me. Do you want John to grow up an orphan?”

  “He has you.” Dat’s voice was suddenly strong and clear as he met Mike’s gaze with determined eyes. “You’re a better dat than I can be right now.”

  “But I’m not his dat,” Mike insisted. “You are.” He placed his shaking hands in his lap.

  Dat nodded. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “That’s all we can ask.” Mike touched his father’s arm.

  DAT’S WORDS ECHOED THROUGH MIKE’S MIND AS HE ATE supper with Dat, John, and Janie, Marie’s younger sister. Mike’s stomach remained knotted with the thoughts of his father passing away. He couldn’t allow himself to think about life without his father. It was just too painful.

  When supper was over, John insisted on pushing their father’s wheelchair into the family room before he rushed upstairs to take his bath. Mike helped Dat move to his favorite recliner and handed him his Bible and the latest issue of the Budget. Then he returned to the kitchen, where Janie was filling one side of the sink with sudsy water.

  Mike thought once more how interesting it was that while Marie and her brother, Sam, had dark hair and eyes, Janie’s hair was red and her eyes were bright blue.

  “I need to go take care of the animals,” Mike said as he walked toward the mudroom to retrieve his boots and jacket.

  “Why didn’t you ask John to help you?” Janie turned toward him. “He usually helps you with the chores, doesn’t he?”

  “He does, but tonight I just want to be alone with my thoughts.” He continued toward the mudroom.

  “Wait, Mike.” Janie called after him. “Was iss letz?”

  Mike stopped in the doorway and leaned against the woodwork. He silently debated how much to tell his cousin. Did she need to carry the burden of his father’s health? He always felt guilty for dumping his troubles on his cousins
when they already did so much to help him.

  “Marie told me your dat had a doctor’s appointment today after his dialysis treatment. Did you go with him?” Janie took a step toward him as he nodded. “Did something happen?”

  “The doctor didn’t have gut news,” Mike began. “Dat’s lab work showed that his levels aren’t where they should be. His calcium, phosphorus, and albumin levels aren’t looking good.”

  “Oh.” Janie nodded, but her eyes told him she didn’t understand him.

  “That means he’s not doing well. The appointment didn’t upset me, but our conversation in the car afterward did.” Mike tried to steel himself against his flaring emotions as he shared what Dat had said to him in the van about wanting to stop the treatments and how Mike had responded to him. Janie gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as he spoke. “I can’t imagine losing him. Do you think I said the right things to him?”

  Although he was older than Janie, he desperately craved her approval. He needed someone to tell him he was doing a good job caring for his father and his brother.

  “Ya, I do.” Janie sniffed and wiped her fingers across her eyes. “I think you said the best things you could. We’ll just continue to take care of him and pray that he gets stronger.”

  “Right.” Mike cleared his throat as ongoing anxiety swirled inside of him. “I need to go take care of the animals.” He slipped on his boots and jacket and started toward the door.

  “Oh, and please check the messages,” Janie called after him. “I meant to check them earlier, but I forgot.”

  Mike descended the back steps and walked to the barn. After taking care of the horses, he went to the phone and dialed the voice mail number. He found two messages from family members checking on Dat’s health. The third and final message was from John’s teacher Rachel.

  While he listened to her message detailing his brother’s problems in school, something inside of him snapped, and all his bottled-up frustration bubbled to the surface. He’d had enough stress for one day, and this message was the last straw. He slammed the phone down and marched into the house, where he found Janie wiping down the stovetop.

  “I’ve had it,” Mike announced, his voice booming louder than he’d expected.

  Janie jumped with a start as she faced him. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  “I just got a message from John’s teacher complaining about him. I don’t think I can take much more of this.” He slumped into a kitchen chair and rested his elbows on the table as his anger and frustration boiled through him.

  “What happened?” Janie sat down across from him.

  “His teacher Rachel left me a message saying he’s not participating in class, and he pushed a kind off a swing on the playground yesterday.” The palms of his hands blocking his face muffled his voice. “I’m not sure I can deal with this today. I hardly slept last night. I stayed on the sofa to make sure Dat didn’t fall again.”

  “He fell last night?” Janie asked with surprise.

  “Ya, he did. He fell in the bathroom.” Mike shoved his fingers through his hair. “Rachel asked me to write in the daily journal. I was going to write in it last night, but after Dat fell, I totally forgot about it.”

  “You have too much on you.” Janie’s smile was supportive. “Why don’t I write in it for you? I’ll send a note saying you’re going to talk to John. Marie and I can take care of the journal for you, so you can concentrate on other things. Will that help you?”

  Mike cleared his throat. It was time for him to stop whining and take care of things. After all, that’s what Dat would do. “No, but danki. I’ll take care of it.” He pushed back the chair and stood. “I’ll write a note and then go check on John.”

  “All right.” Janie hesitated. “You know Marie and I don’t mind helping you. That’s what family is for, Mike.”

  “I know. Danki.” He located John’s tote bag on the floor of the mudroom and retrieved the journal. “John is my responsibility since Dat can’t care for him.”

  “Really, Marie and I can handle the journal with the teacher for you,” Janie said. “I can’t stand seeing you so upset about this.”

  “It’s fine.” Mike read Rachel’s note and a frown formed on his lips. Her notes for the past two days were a summary of everything his brother had done wrong in the classroom. He hadn’t sung with the class, he refused to read aloud, he pushed a girl off the swing, and he ignored a boy named Luke when he asked John if he wanted to help him sweep. Mike stared at Rachel’s perfect handwriting while mentally debating what to write in the journal.

  Finally, he wrote:

  Received your notes and voice mail. Will be in touch.

  —Mike Lantz.

  “What did you write?” Janie appeared beside him and craned her neck to read the page, then turned a confused expression on him. “All you wrote is that you’ll be in touch?”

  “That’s right.” He closed the journal and shoved it back into the tote bag. “I’ll be in touch when I figure out what to say to her.”

  “But, Mike,” Janie began, “Rachel is only doing her job. The parents and teachers are supposed to work together, especially in a special school.”

  “I know.” Mike started toward the stairs. “I’m going to talk to John, which is doing my part.”

  “But why didn’t you tell her that?” Janie followed him. “Rachel is going to think you don’t care or you’re not taking her concerns seriously.”

  “I do take them seriously.” Mike stepped onto the stairs. “I’m going to handle them in my own way.”

  “She’s going to be upset with you,” Janie warned as she stood at the bottom of the steps. “You really should write a note and tell her you’re going to talk to John.”

  Mike continued up the steps, ignoring his well-meaning cousin.

  “Mike, wait,” Janie called after him.

  When he reached the top step, he looked down at her.

  “You should just write her a note telling her you’re talking to John and working with him. That’s all she wants to hear.” Janie pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m going to finish the dishes and then head home. Marie will be here tomorrow.”

  “Gut. Danki.” Mike said good night and then ambled down the hallway toward John’s room. He found his younger brother sitting on his bed, playing with a metal toy tractor. He knocked on the doorframe, and John looked up.

  “How are you, John?”

  “Fine.” John placed the tractor on the bed and gave Mike a puzzled expression. “Why didn’t you want me to help with chores tonight?”

  “I thought I would give you a break since you looked tired.” Mike lowered himself onto the corner of John’s bed, which creaked under his weight. “How was school today?”

  John shrugged as he ran his small fingers over the metal truck.

  “Do you like school?” Mike prodded.

  John shrugged again and continued to avert his eyes from Mike’s by studying the toy, which had been Mike’s favorite when he was John’s age.

  “Johnny?” Mike asked, touching his brother’s arm. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  John shook his head without looking up.

  Mike gently placed his finger under John’s chin and tilted his face so their eyes met. “John, your teacher wrote in your journal to tell me about your behavior. Why haven’t you been participating in class like you’re supposed to?”

  John’s lower lip quivered, and his eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t want to go to school.”

  Mike’s insides twisted with grief. “Why don’t you want to go to school? Don’t you like being with the other kinner?”

  John sniffed as a tear trickled down his pink cheek. “I need to be home with Dat and you.”

  “No, no.” Mike brushed the tear away with the tip of his finger. Seeing his little brother cry was nearly his undoing. He took a deep breath and pressed on, hoping his voice didn’t quaver with his emotion. “You need to be in school with
the other kinner. Janie and Marie take care of Dat during the day while I work and you’re in school.” He sighed as more tears escaped his little brother’s sad blue eyes. “Are you misbehaving in school because you’re worried about Dat?”

  John shrugged while staring at the tractor. A teardrop traced his cheek and then dripped onto the worn metal toy.

  “John,” Mike said, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t need to worry about Dat while you’re at school. You only need to follow the rules and do what your teachers tell you to do. You have to participate in class and be nice to the other kinner. Marie, Janie, and I will make sure Dat goes to the doctors and gets what he needs.”

  “What if he dies like Mamm did?” John’s voice was so soft that Mike nearly missed the question.

  The lump in Mike’s throat choked back his words. Instead of speaking, he pulled John into his arms and held him close.

  “It’s all right,” Mike finally whispered. “We’ll be fine. I need you to do your best in school and follow the rules. I’ll take care of us, all right?”

  John nodded and sniffed.

  “It’s almost bedtime. Go brush your teeth.”

  John hopped up from the bed and rushed down the hallway toward the bathroom. Mike’s fingers sought the cool metal tractor while he waited for John to return. He reflected on Janie’s advice as he spun the tractor’s tires. Janie was right when she suggested he write a note to Rachel, but he was too mentally and physically exhausted right now. He just wanted to say good night to his brother, take care of his father, and go to sleep. He would write a longer response to Rachel tomorrow if he felt more mentally capable to form a coherent thought.

  After tucking John into bed, Mike made his way down the stairs to the family room, where he found Dat snoring in his recliner. Mike couldn’t bring himself to move Dat when he looked so comfortable and peaceful.

  Instead, Mike sank onto the end of the sofa as John’s worried words about losing their father echoed through his mind. He couldn’t stand to see John cry, and he longed to take away his little brother’s worries and fears. He didn’t know how to erase John’s fears when they were the same ones that haunted him.