Read Online Still Life in Shadows by Alice J. Wisler - Free Book Online
Authors: Alice J. Wisler
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Another Cup. Instead, he consumed two chocolate Twinkies from the vending machine at the Laundromat. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but those little cakes sure did taste good. He loved the inside filling; it reminded him of the chocolate pie his mother used to make for Sunday evening desserts.
Kiki was tightening the brakes on her bike as Gideon explained engines and carburetors to Amos who stood nearby, munching on an apple. Gideon hated to admit it, but he’d gotten more enthusiasm out of a lion sunning himself at the zoo. What was wrong with this guy? How could he be Amish and be so lazy?
Thinking that perhaps the lad might be interested in something other than under the hood, Gideon said, “I can show you how to remove a tire. Why don’t you come over here?”
Amos tossed the apple core into the trash can and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With deliberate weariness, he ambled over to Gideon.
Gideon tried to ignore the kid’s lack of eagerness to learn. He askedAmos to bring him two jack stands. The boy had no concept of speed.
“What did you do on your farm in Lancaster?” Gideon asked.
“Milked cows, picked corn.” His brown eyes glazed over; Gideon assumed it was from lack of sleep.
“Did you like doing that?” Gideon asked.
“Did I like it?” He frowned. “Had no choice. You remember how it is.” After a moment, Amos said, “We had an apple orchard, too.”
An apple orchard. Those three words together never missed their opportunity to evoke a pain in Gideon’s heart. Like a whirlwind, the words took him back—always back to that night outside the shed after his father had locked it. He wanted to know that the boy inside was alive, wanted to believe that his father hadn’t killed the lad when he beat him with a branch from the apple tree. Of course, the boy did make it home after the beating, he often reminded himself. But in his dreams, there were times the boy died, and he was always screaming for Gideon to help him.
Amos interjected, “May I get some water to drink?”
Gideon shook off his tangled thoughts. “Sure, help yourself.” Amos had already taken a break since arriving this morning—he’d smoked three cigarettes while standing in front of the shop, just watching the world go by. What harm could another break do to his flawed work ethic?
M ari pulled up in her car and when she bolted through the open bays and saw Kiki, her temper flared. “Why didn’t you stay at home? I told you I’d pick you up there.” She shot a frustrated look at Gideon, who wiped his hands on a cloth and wondered what was going on. He did know that kids could be exasperating; his own mother had told him that.
Kiki frowned at Mari and continued tampering with her bike. She let the wrench clack against the spokes, the noise echoing throughout the shop.
Mari stood over the girl. “It’s time to go.”
“Why?” She hit the side of her bicycle with a screwdriver, and Gideon suspected this was a deliberate attempt to make Mari annoyed or to make her go away.
“Kiki,” Mari’s voice was firm. “Your appointment is in ten minutes. Let’s go!”
“I don’t wanna go to the doctor! Sheesh! I had to go yesterday.”
“Come on, Kiki.”
“No!” She crossed her arms against her chest, her hands slapping against her shoulders. “I have to work here.”
“Kiki, don’t be difficult. Put on your listening ears and come on.”
“Quit trying to sound like Mama!”
Mari looked at Gideon, her face begging for help.
Gideon felt he was operating in slow motion.
Mama?
Had Kiki said that word in reference to someone else? Someone other than Mari?
As Kiki continued making noise with the tools and Mari’s face showed despair, Gideon stepped out of his own fog and moved toward the child.
When he approached her, Kiki got up, the wrench still in her hand, and leaned against the wall of the
Kiki was tightening the brakes on her bike as Gideon explained engines and carburetors to Amos who stood nearby, munching on an apple. Gideon hated to admit it, but he’d gotten more enthusiasm out of a lion sunning himself at the zoo. What was wrong with this guy? How could he be Amish and be so lazy?
Thinking that perhaps the lad might be interested in something other than under the hood, Gideon said, “I can show you how to remove a tire. Why don’t you come over here?”
Amos tossed the apple core into the trash can and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With deliberate weariness, he ambled over to Gideon.
Gideon tried to ignore the kid’s lack of eagerness to learn. He askedAmos to bring him two jack stands. The boy had no concept of speed.
“What did you do on your farm in Lancaster?” Gideon asked.
“Milked cows, picked corn.” His brown eyes glazed over; Gideon assumed it was from lack of sleep.
“Did you like doing that?” Gideon asked.
“Did I like it?” He frowned. “Had no choice. You remember how it is.” After a moment, Amos said, “We had an apple orchard, too.”
An apple orchard. Those three words together never missed their opportunity to evoke a pain in Gideon’s heart. Like a whirlwind, the words took him back—always back to that night outside the shed after his father had locked it. He wanted to know that the boy inside was alive, wanted to believe that his father hadn’t killed the lad when he beat him with a branch from the apple tree. Of course, the boy did make it home after the beating, he often reminded himself. But in his dreams, there were times the boy died, and he was always screaming for Gideon to help him.
Amos interjected, “May I get some water to drink?”
Gideon shook off his tangled thoughts. “Sure, help yourself.” Amos had already taken a break since arriving this morning—he’d smoked three cigarettes while standing in front of the shop, just watching the world go by. What harm could another break do to his flawed work ethic?
M ari pulled up in her car and when she bolted through the open bays and saw Kiki, her temper flared. “Why didn’t you stay at home? I told you I’d pick you up there.” She shot a frustrated look at Gideon, who wiped his hands on a cloth and wondered what was going on. He did know that kids could be exasperating; his own mother had told him that.
Kiki frowned at Mari and continued tampering with her bike. She let the wrench clack against the spokes, the noise echoing throughout the shop.
Mari stood over the girl. “It’s time to go.”
“Why?” She hit the side of her bicycle with a screwdriver, and Gideon suspected this was a deliberate attempt to make Mari annoyed or to make her go away.
“Kiki,” Mari’s voice was firm. “Your appointment is in ten minutes. Let’s go!”
“I don’t wanna go to the doctor! Sheesh! I had to go yesterday.”
“Come on, Kiki.”
“No!” She crossed her arms against her chest, her hands slapping against her shoulders. “I have to work here.”
“Kiki, don’t be difficult. Put on your listening ears and come on.”
“Quit trying to sound like Mama!”
Mari looked at Gideon, her face begging for help.
Gideon felt he was operating in slow motion.
Mama?
Had Kiki said that word in reference to someone else? Someone other than Mari?
As Kiki continued making noise with the tools and Mari’s face showed despair, Gideon stepped out of his own fog and moved toward the child.
When he approached her, Kiki got up, the wrench still in her hand, and leaned against the wall of the
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