Chapter 17
Y ou can’t run away from me anymore.
Jalon felt like he’d been sucker punched. Adam had put a positive spin on things. Said he’d come to terms with what happened. Why can’t I?
Then he thought of everything Adam couldn’t do. He couldn’t stand. Couldn’t walk. Couldn’t run. Even if he wanted to climb a tree, he couldn’t. Jalon could do all that, and much more. How could he not feel guilty about that?
Jalon shot up from the hay bale. Fed the animals.
Cleaned up a little bit even though the barn was nearly spotless.
Then he went over to the ladder that led to the hayloft.
He didn’t need any more hay bales, having brought some down last week, but he also couldn’t be in here and do nothing.
He couldn’t leave, either, knowing Adam was inside, that his sister was expecting a miracle to happen between the two of them, and that Phoebe . ..
Phoebe had seen his cowardice. No doubt Leanna had explained what happened. Now she knew he was to blame for Adam’s accident. He was the one who put his cousin in that wheelchair. How could she see past that?
He scrambled up the ladder and started hurling bales.
They hit the ground and flopped on their sides, stray hay and puffs of dust hovering above the barn floor.
He went to the back corner of the loft and started shifting around bales.
Physical work had always helped him put his thoughts to rest, but it wasn’t working now.
He yanked on an old, dried-up bale in the far corner of the loft. When he dislodged it, an amber-colored bottle rolled toward him, stopping near his feet. He picked it up, recognizing it. The same kind of bottle his father used when he’d made his home beer.
Jalon examined the bottle and the stopper at the top. He didn’t know how long it had been there. Maybe a year or two, or even longer. It was probably still decent since it hadn’t been opened. Not fresh but at least drinkable.
He rolled the bottle around in his hand, listening to the liquid slosh inside the glass. His mouth started to water, a familiar craving coming over him. A few swigs of this and he could down the whole bottle. It wouldn’t take away his pain but it would be a start.
The urge came back, stronger than ever. In the back of his mind, Jalon had always blamed his father for starting him on the road to drink. But his dad hadn’t forced him to drink. He hadn’t made Jalon an alcoholic. The choice to consume liquor to dull his pain was all on him.
And right now, all he had to do was open the bottle. Take a deep pull. Before long, he’d feel nothing.
When Phoebe looked through the kitchen window and saw Adam leaving the barn without Jalon, his shoulders slumped, she knew their talk had gone badly. On impulse she set down her dish towel. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’re going to talk to Jalon?” Karen asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
Before she could chicken out, she nodded. “ Ya. I think he needs me.”
“Phoebe, I know he does.”
Bolstered by Karen’s confidence, she set out for the barn. She paused as she saw Adam wheel himself toward the huge tree Jalon had tried to cut down. She wished there was something she could say to him too. But right now Jalon was her main concern.
She whispered to herself, rehearsing what she would say to him. Nothing sounded helpful as she reached the barn entrance. But that didn’t mean she was giving up. Taking a deep breath, she walked inside.
Her gaze jerked as Jalon threw something against the barn wall. Glass shattered into pieces, littering the floor with glittering amber shards. “Jalon!”
He looked at her, his expression haunted.
A familiar smell filled the air, overpowering the scent of hay and animals. She recognized it right away. She should have, since she’d spent enough time drinking at parties to know the liquid dripping down the wall was beer. Her nervousness disappeared as she turned to him, stunned.
“Leave, Phoebe.”
His harsh tone made her flinch, but she stood her ground. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I want to be left alone.”
She marched over to him. “Too bad. I’m staying.”
He faced her and scowled, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ve had enough talking for one day.”
“And I think you’ve had enough escaping for one day.”
“Now you sound like Adam.”
“Then Adam must be right.”
Jalon narrowed his eyes. “How would you know? You don’t know him ... you don’t know me .”
She put her hands on her hips, imitating his stance. He was trying to intimidate her, and while it was working, she wasn’t about to budge. “I know you’re not the kind of man to put his head in the sand. At least I never thought you would be.”
“I don’t have mei head in the sand.”
“Don’t you?” She softened her tone. “Leanna told us what happened.”
“Figures,” he muttered. His shoulders drooped. “She never keeps her mouth shut.”
“Malachi asked why Adam can’t walk.”
“ I’m the reason he can’t walk.” He crossed the barn and sat down on a hay bale, his head in his hands.
“You pushed him out of the tree, then?”
His head shot up. “What? Nee , of course not. He fell.”
“Then how is that yer fault?”
“Because he was chasing me. I was older, faster, stronger. I knew I could out-climb him, and I did. I went to the top of the tree. He stopped halfway to catch his breath, and I goaded him on. He climbed a few more feet.” Jalon paused. “A branch broke and ...”
Phoebe didn’t know what to say. They were kids, and it was an accident. But Jalon didn’t see it that way.
She sat down next to him and took his hand. Words wouldn’t comfort him. She knew what it was like to be filled with regret, to have somebody spew scriptures and platitudes that didn’t mean anything. Sometimes it was nice to have someone by your side, sitting in the quiet, just being there.
After a few minutes he changed the grip of their hands and entwined their fingers.
She didn’t know how long they sat there, holding hands, lost in their own thoughts, her thoughts totally focused on him. Finally he said, “The accident isn’t the only regret I have.”
She squeezed his hand, silently urging him to continue.
“I’m ...” He drew in a deep breath and pulled away.
“I’m an alcoholic. I had mei first drink after Adam’s accident, and up until recently, I never stopped.
At first it was because I liked the taste, especially beer.
Then because I realized that when I drank, I could escape, even for a little while.
” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’m an alcoholic without a job.
Oh, and I also sunk all mei money into a farm I’m not sure will ever be successful.
I’m almost broke, and if I don’t find work soon, I’ll end up in foreclosure before planting season starts. ”
He turned to her, and the despair in his eyes nearly brought her to tears. “You once said you didn’t deserve what I was offering you. You were wrong. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”
Jalon couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t take any of the sweet kindness he saw in her eyes.
She knew everything now—how he’d been at fault for Adam’s accident, losing his job when he needed the money more than he ever had in his life, and now his alcoholism.
Admitting this last thing to her didn’t make any difference.
He felt the failure, the shame, the helplessness all the way to his bones.
He’d been so hard on his father, who had struggled for so long to succeed.
Now he understood his father’s anger. His frustration.
Jalon had always said he would be different.
Yet here he was. The circumstances weren’t the same but the feelings were.
He waited for Phoebe to say something, to tell him that yes, he was right. He didn’t deserve her, because she deserved better. She deserved a man who wasn’t filled with scars from the past and a bleak outlook for a future.
But she remained silent and took his hand in hers again.
Her touch kept him from falling completely to pieces and gave him another shot of courage to admit yet another failing.
“I came so close to taking that drink,” he choked out.
“I even opened the bottle. I wanted one drink. One last drink to numb everything, even for a little while.”
“But you didn’t.” She covered his hand with her other one.
“I came close—”
“But you didn’t .” She stroked the back of his hand while she held his gaze. Again, she was silent, but her eyes, and the fact that she was staying by his side, said everything he needed to hear.
She loosened her grip but didn’t let go as her gaze wandered around the barn. “I thought this was yer parents’ place.”
“It was.” He exhaled, grateful for the change of subject. He explained how he bought the house and spent all his savings. “I wasn’t worried about it at the time because I had the construction job. Everything seemed to be going mei way.”
“You’re worried.”
He looked at her, dumbfounded. “Of course I am.”
“One of the bishop’s favorite sermon topics was worry,” Phoebe said.
“Not Bishop Weaver. Our other bishop. He said over and over that Jesus told us not to worry. Then he explained that worry was about living in the future instead of the present. If we’re focused on each day and not fretting about tomorrow, we won’t worry. ”
Jalon let out a bitter laugh. “Easier said than done.”
“It is. And it’s something I’ve struggled with too.
Ever since Bishop Weaver told me I had to leave, I’ve been consumed with worry.
Where were Malachi and I going to geh ? How was I going to manage?
And when we were at Aenti Bertha’s, I worried about what I would say, what Malachi would do .
.. I worried almost every minute of the day.
” She paused, smiling slightly. “Except when I got yer letters. For a few moments I didn’t have to worry. I could focus on you.”