Chapter 8 #2
“Um, ya .” Admitting his childhood mishaps to a four-year-old was a lesson in humility.
“Anyway, the best place to do this is outside, not in the haus . But just this once I’ll show it to you inside.
” He put the looped string around his middle finger, then gripped the yo-yo in his palm.
It was amazing how quickly everything came back to him.
He moved away from the couch and stood in the middle of the living room. “First thing you do is warm up a little.” He threw the yo-yo straight down, then caught it when it rolled back up. Malachi and Blue watched, their heads moving up and down in sync.
After a couple of practice throws, he threw out the yo-yo again, but this time instead of throwing it downward, he propelled it forward.
Then he placed the index finger of his free hand three quarters down the end of the string, then looped the yo-yo back toward his other hand.
He flipped the yo-yo up the string two more times, then dropped the yo-yo and let it roll back up.
“Wow,” Malachi said. “Do it again!”
Bolstered by the boy’s enthusiasm, Jalon performed the trick two more times.
It was one of the easier ones he knew. At one time he could swing two yo-yo’s at once, one in each hand.
The more he yo-yo-ed, the more he realized he missed it.
But he’d stopped playing with it years ago.
The same time he stopped doing a lot of things .
.. and started doing other, less innocent things.
He removed the yo-yo and handed it to Malachi. “It’s yers , on one condition.”
“What’s a condition?”
He started to define the word, then realized he didn’t have to in order to make his point. “I need you to promise me you’ll follow the three rules of yo-yo’s.”
“I will.” Malachi reached for the yo-yo.
Jalon pulled back. “You don’t know what they are yet.”
“Oh.” He put his hand on Blue’s back.
“Number one, nee yo-yo’ing in the haus .”
“Okay.”
“Number two, always make sure you have plenty of room to yo-yo. Look all around you so you won’t hit anyone or anything.”
“Like a vase?”
“ Ya. Like a vase.”
When Malachi nodded with absolute seriousness, Jalon had to fight to maintain a strict face. “Number three”—he put the yo-yo in Malachi’s hand—“have fun.”
Malachi turned it over in his palm, running his fingers over the bright green plastic. He looked up at Jalon and grinned with thankful awe.
Jalon felt a tug in his heart, altogether different from anything he’d felt before. Without thinking, he tousled the boy’s already messy hair again. “ Geh wash up. The bathroom’s near the downstairs bedroom. It’s almost time for supper.”
Malachi scrambled off the couch, ran a few feet away, came back to pat Blue on the head, then dashed away. Jalon grinned. What a ball of energy.
“I wish he’d listen to me the way he listens to you.”
Jalon turned around to see Phoebe behind him. “What?”
“He went to wash his hands without complaint.” She sighed. “Usually I have to argue with him to do it. You didn’t notice how he minded you back at mei aenti ’s haus ?”
Jalon shook his head, not sure what she was referring to. Then he remembered lunch. “Oh, that. I just told him to finish his sandwich.”
“And he finished his sandwich.” Her lips curled into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Supper’s ready,” she said, then turned around and went back to the kitchen.
Before Jalon could say anything else, Malachi flew past Jalon.
Jalon followed and saw Malachi go straight to Phoebe, who settled him at the table.
Jalon couldn’t stop watching as she whispered in his ear, then brushed the top of his shoulder with her hand before she seated herself.
She’d sounded so full of doubt a moment ago, and Jalon didn’t understand why.
Anyone could see how much these two loved each other.
After they prayed over the meal, Karen passed the casserole dish to Jalon first. Shepherd’s pie.
He should have known what it was when he saw Phoebe spreading potatoes on the casserole.
He’d had this dish dozens of times growing up.
His mamm never put cheese on it, though.
He took a bite—and was amazed. “Wow,” he said. “This is really good.”
Phoebe put a cornbread muffin on her plate, her small smile letting him know she was pleased.
He didn’t expect her to acknowledge the compliment, as that might seem prideful.
But food this good deserved recognition.
He took another bite, savoring the creamy potatoes and perfectly seasoned ground beef.
“I agree,” Karen said after finishing her first bite. “This is the best shepherd’s pie I ever tasted.”
“Corn muffins are good too.” Jalon didn’t want to leave Karen out because she was a great cook in her own right.
But he’d had her corn muffins before, which was why he’d guessed she made these.
They were good, but nothing special. Now, her Orange Bliss cake was a different story. He couldn’t wait to tear into that.
They finished the meal in near silence—Malachi kept wanting to be excused, even though he ate only a third of his meal.
Several times Phoebe told him to finish his food, only to be met with various excuses.
Now Jalon could see what she was talking about.
“Malachi,” he said, sternly enough to get his attention.
The boy looked at him, a defiant spark in his eyes. “What?”
“Finish yer supper.”
“I did.”
“There’s still food on yer plate.”
“I’m full.”
“Jalon, it’s okay—”
“Phoebe, it’s not okay.” Jalon looked at Malachi again. “Malachi, I won’t tell you again. Finish yer supper. Then you’ll help me with the chores in the barn.”
The tension at the table thickened. Karen kept her head down and continued eating, wisely staying out of it. Jalon could sense Phoebe’s eyes watching to see what Malachi would do. Jalon wasn’t a hundred percent sure the boy would do as he was told, but he continued to look at him sternly.
Then, without another word, Malachi picked up his fork and started eating.