Still, Small Voice

By Zanne Kennedy

Nicolaus Zook was in enough trouble already, and he’d likely be excommunicated if his beloved Amish congregation knew that he was in alliance with the world.
Years earlier he had left his community and faith, having been forced from his home by his abusive father, Jacob. In town, Nicolaus soon became quite the celebrity. With his God-given gift of music, sensuous voice and looks, he became lead singer in the local rock band that he had formed with his childhood friend, Sylvain. Nicolaus returned home to his people, following a devastating car accident that had taken Sylvain's life and left him barely able to cope with his own injuries. Back among his Amish community, he found Sarah, his childhood sweetheart, waiting for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zanne Kennedy
• Release date: Aug 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465997883

Zanne Kennedy

Zanne Kennedy is the author of the Silent Discourse series.Silent Discourse; Still, Small Voice; Profound Silence; Dissonant Melody; Beautiful Conflict. Righteous Revenges (forthcoming)She is an artist by trade and a student of the human condition by desire. Research is her passion and the Amish culture and beliefs is the spark that set the fire a blaze with the series, Silent Discourse. She captivates the reader’s minds, much like a painter wields a brush, and draws them in with her rich descriptions, characterizations, and insights.Zanne is an Arizona native.

Book preview

STILL, SMALL VOICE

book 2 in the Silent Discourse series

by

Zanne Kennedy

Smashwords Edition

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Published on Smashwords by:

Paragon Multimedia LLC.

Chandler, Arizona

http://www.paragon-multimedia.com

Still, Small Voice

Copyright 2008 by Zanne Kennedy

ISBN: 978-0-9823371-1-0

(Previously ISBN 987-1-4327-3107-6 and 987-1-4327-3283-7)

Paragon Multimedia LLC and the Paragon logo are copyrighted and belong to Paragon Multimedia LLC.

To reorder: www.zannekennedy.com

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Acknowledgments

The author would like to acknowledge the following:

God and His unconditional love. After all, God’s unfailing love is the story I live in!

David Morrow, editing, lawful counsel and constant loving support. Together we may finally discover what ‘glu-glux of the blowhole’ really means.

Brian Morrow, for your great sense of humor, wonderful financial tidbits, and counsel. For your unwavering love, support and prayers. For loving the bird lady in spite of herself.

Erin Dodson, who laughed in all the right places. For reading my books just because I asked while taking care of your husband, two children, and Aunt. For falling in love with Nicolaus and his friends, but mostly, for your constant love, support and prayers.

Jean Kennedy, for your constant love, support, and prayers. For reading and editing. For staying up all night crying at the sad parts.

Nick Kennedy, for your constant love, support, and prayers.

Pearl G., for being a God-sent friend. For loving God with your entire mind, body, soul, and spirit right out in front of all of us.

Lori Heyd, for encouraging me to start, and not give up. For your advice & spiritual support.

Editors:

Millie Hannum, You are a Godsend, and what timing!

Cheri Neri, for always being there for me.

Cheryl Booth, editor, for taking up the wand and adding the finishing touch of magic. Cheryl is also a ghostwriter—for more details, visit: www.gr8writing.com or email [e-mail]

Artist:

Cali McCullough, for going to Lancaster County for a photo shoot ten days before your wedding.

Sue Cullumber, for your great photos visit, http://auniqueviewphotography.com

Readers:

Angela Bolton, Vickie Bolton, and Shelley Moreno For all the comments, suggestions and creativity. Thank you!

To Amy Aston, for being Nicolaus’s expert poker guru.

I would also like to thank all the readers that pick up Silent Discourse and the series; those who have fallen in love with Nicolaus and those who find a deeper relationship with God through Nicolaus’s life story.

Zanne Kennedy, author of:

Silent Discourse,

Still, Small Voice,

Profound Silence,

Dissonant Melody,

Beautiful Conflict, and

Righteous Revenge (Forthcoming)

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Silent Discourse Series

Silent Discourse

Still, Small Voice

Profound Silence

Dissonant Melody

Beautiful Conflict

Righteous Revenge (forthcoming)

* * * * *

In Loving Memory of Roy and Helen Morrow

In Honor of Nick and Jean Kennedy

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Rest In Me

Chapter 2: Locked Doors

Chapter 3: Breathe

Chapter 4: You Owe Me A Hat

Chapter 5: I Am Who I Am

Chapter 6: The Bird House

Chapter 7: Take The Cure

Chapter 8: A Mask For Every Emotion

Chapter 9: An Answered Prayer

Chapter 10: Rachael

Chapter 11: Among Them

Chapter 12: Bundle?

Chapter 13: Three Prophesies

Chapter 14: Now!

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CHAPTER 1

November 1974

Nicolaus, Age 19

Rest in Me

The Eagle was standing-room only when Nicolaus made his way on crutches through the back door of the bar. Hans’s band, Gene and Karen were trailing in behind him as if they were his personal entourage. Standing at the doorway to greet them was Kenzie, the bouncer at The Eagle, and Jesse, the owner, who was also Nicolaus’s boss.

Nick, are you sure you want to do this? Jesse asked as he reached for Nicolaus and gave him a lingering hug.

Nicolaus smiled down at him. Yes.

Okay, let me see your lineup for tonight. I see, the band will do two sets, and then you will come out and do five songs with Gene. Will Hans’s band be backing you? What’s this? Jesse asked, pointing to Sylvain’s song, which Nicolaus had placed second to last on the roster.

Oh, don’t worry about that one. Nick most likely won’t do it, and if he does try it, I’ll lay a hundred dollars down that he won’t make it through it, Gene said, winking at Nicolaus.

Nicolaus smiled down at him as he leaned on his crutches. Then he looked toward the band gathered around the couch, just like his old band did right before a night of music. His heart broke thinking back to Danny, Lorie and Sylvain’s company. Their presence was so dearly missed tonight, all having lost their young lives in the car accident a month ago.

Nicolaus pulled his cast to one side so that he could walk toward the gathering at the couch, knowing that he needed to be near the band members so he could warm his cold, empty heart with a little of their companionship. Hans’s band took him in immediately, sensing his melancholy mood.

While the band played its first set, Nicolaus and Gene sat backstage in the lounge, listening to the band’s renditions of some of his songs. The crowd went wild as each one ran into the next without introduction.

They’ll do a good job for Jesse! Nicolaus fingered the fringe of his jeans, which his Aunt Betsy had split to make room for his cast. The cast leg of the jeans was laced from the knee to the bottom of his pant leg; the small rope blended in with the material perfectly.

Are you nervous? Gene asked as he watched Nicolaus nearly unravel the denim from the split.

I’m hoping I don’t vomit all over everyone up there! Nicolaus nodded to Kenzie, who had just entered the backstage area. I’m still seeing double and da dizzy spells make me feel sick, but the doctors said it shouldn’t last much longer.

Ye really gonna leave us then, aye? Kenzie asked in his thick Scottish accent as he sat down next to Nicolaus and gave his cast a slap with his big hand. Kenzie pulled out his pen and began writing a message on the cast. After signing it, he put his pen away and leaned back on the couch with a long sigh.

What did you write? Nicolaus asked, not being able to see it from his perspective.

It says, ‘I’ve got your back! Your bodyguard, Kenzie.’ Kenzie patted Nicolaus on his back. Ye didn’t know I was watching you all the while you were on stage, did ya now? Well, it’s the truth, it is. Jesse says to me the day I started working for the place, he says, ‘cover the young one’s back’ and I have ever since.

You also covered my face with bruises, as I recall! Nicolaus grinned.

Aye, and you had it coming, now didn’t ye? I dinna want to make you feel bad, Nick, but you look a little on the green side, laddie! You feelin’ like you’re goin’ to lose it? Kenzie asked as he sat back and took a better look at Nicolaus.

I’m a little dizzy, and by the way, seeing two of you, Kenzie, would make any man want to vomit!

So now, I’m taken from that comment you’re going to be needin’ a spit-can upstage, just in case?

I think that would be a good idea, Kenzie, Nicolaus agreed, trying to swallow back the accumulating saliva, a precursor to a wave of nausea, a condition left over from a head injury acquire in the car accident.

If you decide you’re gonna do a nosedive, I’ll be there front and center. If you feel you’re a goin’, let me know, and I’ll get ye off stage!

Thanks, Kenzie. That’s a great relief. I can picture it now, Kenzie leaping onstage and lugging my limp body down the stairs!

Well, now, Nick, it wudna be the first time, ye ken, Kenzie slapped Nicolaus’s cast again and stood to leave.

The band came backstage, exhausted from their second set and ready for refreshments. Karen and the two new barmaids brought in drinks as soon as the guys collapsed on the couch and chairs in the lounge.

The crowd is out of control out there. I’ve never seen it so packed! Sam, the lead singer, commented as he wiped the sweat off his face.

What lights are they using? Nicolaus asked, knowing if the three main ones were lit, it would blind him and he would not be able to see the audience. However, if they had the houselights dimmed, he would be able to see the crowd. Either way was normally fine with him, but tonight he hoped the houselights were on. His head was pounding as it was, and having the main lights blasting in his face for an entire set was unthinkable right now.

They got the main ones going! said Sam, his eyes already bloodshot and watering from the strain.

Nick, you ready? Kenzie yelled from the stage door as he pulled it open, revealing just a portion of the standing-room-only packed house. Nicolaus looked up from the list he’d been going over. He had added some last-minute changes to the song list.

I guess this is it. Nicolaus took out Sylvain’s poem and added it to the list in his hand.

You’re not really going to try and sing that, are you? Gene asked in shock.

If it takes me all night! Nicolaus clenched his jaw, determined to get through the song without breaking down.

I never thought I would say this, but I hope your voice goes before you try and sing it, Nick!

"Gene! I can’t believe you said dat. You’re serious, ja?"

Yah! repeated Gene, mimicking Nicolaus’s accent. I can’t get through it myself without tearing up. I know you can’t finish the thing tonight. I just don’t want to see you try it, Nick.

I’ll be okay. Just watch me for da endings. I may have to shut down before we planned to.

Gotcha, boss! Gene went through the stage door out into the crowd and up the seven steps to the stage. Nicolaus handed his crutches to Kenzie, as the crowd went wild at the sight of him.

Ye want I should carry you up the steps? Kenzie asked with a smirk.

You touch me, Kenzie, and I’ll hit ya! Nicolaus plunked his cast down on the first step and then hoisted his body up by holding onto the rail, followed by his good leg. All seven steps took a while, but the timing was perfect.

As soon as he got to the last step, the crowd was chanting his name. Gene took hold of Nicolaus’s hand and helped him up the last step to the stage, where the band waited for the two of them to get settled. Gene sat down at his keyboard, and Nicolaus took his place center stage on a barstool that was provided so he would not have to stand. His microphone and twelve-string were there beside him.

Nicolaus’s dark, short loose curls lay close to his head in the spotlight, quite a different look than what the patrons at The Eagle were used to. His hair had been long, down past his shoulders for four years, before his head had to be shaved for surgery following the car accident. His hair now framed his face, causing his big, brilliantly blue eyes to stand out more than ever.

Smiling, he looked out at the crowd, waiting deliberately until they were through with most of their fanfare and cheering. He couldn’t help laughing at the crowd, which refused to die down for him to speak. He looked down at Kenzie, who was standing just in front of the stage and raising what apparently was the vomit bucket, as if to show Nicolaus that he was appropriately prepared for whatever was to happen. The sight made Nicolaus laugh even harder.

To Nicolaus’s surprise, Hans clicked his drumsticks to the beat of a song that was not on the list. It was the song Nicolaus had written for Sylvain—the one he’d sung for him on his last day at The Eagle. Nicolaus had no choice but to sing it, which quieted the crowd immediately, knowing it was Sylvain’s song. The song went off fine and Nicolaus now had a chance to address the audience, thanking them for all their cards, thoughts and prayers.

I especially liked the scroll you made for me. I have to admit, it is hard to keep a fresh sense of humor when you have tubes coming out of your head and chest, and your leg is suspended from a pulley two feet above your hospital bed. However, you made a great attempt to make me laugh, and that, I thank you for. I know you have heard already that this is my last performance at The Eagle. Nicolaus stopped and waited as the roar of the crowd silenced him again.

Thank you. I love you, too! Nicolaus smiled as he repeated one fan’s outcry of affection for him. I need some time to heal and I can do dat better at home. So, I’ll be around, just not in street clothes. Dat’s all. Nicolaus was referring to his returning home to the Amish without coming right out and saying it, hoping no one in the bar would pick up on it.

I wasn’t able to attend da funerals… so I hope it’s okay with you dat I sing a few songs in honor of Lorie, Danny and Sol. Nicolaus took up his twelve-string and sat with his microphone pulled in close.

I’m sorry, my voice is a little strained. It also doesn’t help when you have a tube shoved down your throat for a month, either. So if I hit a bad note, I’ll just pretend that it’s the right one, if you will. Nicolaus started with a song he had written for Danny. Lorie’s song was next, and the crowd loved it.

Thank you, Nicolaus said hoarsely into the microphone, checking the strings of his guitar mostly out of nervous habit. He had been playing the songs acoustically, having Hans’s band enter only during the chorus and again at the last half of each song, but the next song he intended for only Gene to accompany him on keyboard.

This next song is a special one, and I hope I can finish it. We practiced it five times yesterday and I haven’t been able to get through all of it yet! Nicolaus smiled sadly into the crowd as he prepared to tell them who had written it, knowing he might lose it at any moment.

The night of the accident, Sylvain… Nicolaus stopped and drew in a deep sigh. For those who don’t know, Sylvain and I grew up together. He was my best friend... Anyway, he wrote this poem just hours before going to the farewell party dat night and… well… I put it to music. Here it is… Gene!

Nicolaus turned to Gene and nodded as he began the beautiful intro on his keyboard. Nicolaus held his microphone with both hands and looked into the crowd, seeing face after face, some he’d come to know and even love. He started singing, and it took only two verses before he looked down into the crowd to see the tears flowing from many staring eyes. He stopped, closed his eyes, and then tried again to sing a word or two, but nothing would come out. He paused for a moment, his lips quivering and the tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked into the blank stares of the crowd. Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Nicolaus looked into the crowd and offered an apology with a recovered smile.

Sorry about dat. I did warn you though. Gene, one more time from the start. Und dis time, don’t stop no matter what happens! Nicolaus started the song again, good and strong, and finished without a flaw. He smiled widely, elated that the song had finally been sung in a manner that would have made Sylvain proud.

This last song is one I wrote in da hospital. It’s funny how people say that they want you to grieve. They say it’s good for you, but then they don’t want you to grieve in the way you need to. I guess maybe that’s because it can be ugly, and no one wants to see ugly things. I counted one day how many times different people asked me if I was okay. ‘Are you alright?’ they’d asked, meaning well, I suppose, and I’m sure they were genuinely concerned. It was eleven times in one day! It might have been more if I hadn’t refused to see anyone else. I mean, what the hell do you say? How many times can you say, ‘No, I’m not alright? I’ll never be alright!’

With that he started into his last song. After he was wholly gratified by singing it, he stood and turned to Gene, already by his side. Gene took him into a bear hug of an embrace that felt good as Nicolaus released what lingering emotions he had left. Gene then helped him to the stairs and spotted him while Nicolaus descended the stairs, one at a time. The crowd pushed in, trying to get his attention and to encourage him to sing more of his songs. He could not; he had nothing left in him. He was not at all sure if it was the strain of the injuries, the emotional trauma or both, but Nicolaus was done; he had given what he had and there was no more to give. Overall, he felt a sense of well-being. He had given all his songs to Hans before he left the hospital, knowing that they were no longer his responsibility.

Backstage, Nicolaus was hugged and slapped on the back as the band members started to relax and congratulate each other for a performance well done. His friends were starting to stream in as they were allowed to pass through Kenzie’s men at the backstage door. Doctor Rodger Dylan, Doctor Paul Yoder and his wife Betsy, who was Nick’s aunt, came through the door. To Nicolaus’s amazement, behind them stood his parents—Esther and Jacob, his sister—Edna, and Edna’s husband—Lieutenant Roberts.

Nicolaus stood in disbelief, his eyes locked on his mother’s, as he whispered, You were out there? You saw me?

Yes, Nicolaus, we saw you, Esther answered as Jacob just looked down, obviously uncomfortable in this unfamiliar territory, his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer.

His parents were clearly out of place: Esther, in her long dark-blue dress, white cape, apron and prayer cap; and Jacob, in his white shirt, black vest, and wide-brim black hat that covered his bobbed-style hair. With his long graying half beard lying against his chest, Jacob resembled a gnome-like creature that was often seen as a lawn ornament.

Well, what did you think? Nicolaus asked, eagerly anticipating their answer.

You need to keep what comes from your mouth! Jacob spoke bluntly in their Amish dialect. Nicolaus’s smile faded as he looked over at his father, who hadn’t bothered to look back up at him.

"Nicolaus, Datt means you need to stop using so many of the curse words." Esther smiled kindly at her son.

I know what he meant, Nicolaus reached for his coat and crutches.

Here’s your twelve-string, Nick! Sam handed Nicolaus his guitar. He knew Nicolaus had a special fondness for it; it was a Christmas gift from Lorie. I have learned a lot from you, even though I’ve only been with you a few days. I’ll never forget it! Uh… would you consider selling your amp and electric guitar to me? You name the price!

Nicolaus thought a moment and then remembered the hospital bill still looming ominously over him. Sure, whatever you think is fair, he replied and accepted the cash Sam forked over matter-of-factly.

Wait here, I want you to sign it for me! Sam jumped over a chair to get to the stage door. He was back within minutes, carrying Nicolaus’s white metallic electric guitar in one hand and a permanent marker in the other. Nicolaus autographed it and handed it back to Sam, noticing that his father glared at his every move.

Nicolaus, are you ready to come home, son? Esther asked, moving toward the door with Paul and Aunt Betsy.

Nicolaus took his place in the front passenger seat of Paul’s car, while his aunt, mother, and father rode in the back. This allowed him the room he needed for his cast. The night air was cold and Nicolaus was thankful for Paul remembering to bring his heavy, double-breasted blue Navy-surplus pea coat. He had paid a few dollars for it at the thrift store, while shopping with Karen, just days before the accident. It was a heavy, full-length coat. The wide lapel wrapped over his chest, and four shiny military buttons lay side-by-side down the front. It once belonged to a sailor, who, perhaps, had to sell it for the few dollars offered. On this cold night, it was much appreciated.

The snow drifted past Nicolaus’s window, the road at times unclear where the gravel on the lanes started and ended, but Paul trudged on.

You sick, Nicolaus? Paul asked, looking at his pale face. Nicolaus laid his head back against the seat of the car, trying to keep from vomiting while the wheels spun on.

Can you pull over? he asked, looking over at Paul and finding blurred, double images of him.

Nicolaus grabbed the door handle, readying himself to exit as soon as the car came to a stop. Once he stood outside the car, Nicolaus limped on his good leg to a fence post, leaning against it until the bubbling and churning of his stomach produced what it had been threatening to. Those who remained in the car watched, resolved not to come out into the cold to help, confident Paul had things perfectly under control.

Feeling better? Paul asked, handing Nicolaus a handkerchief and a prescription medication for motion sickness. I thought you might need this. Here, take the bottle. Nicolaus, look at me.

Nicolaus looked up at Paul from his fence post, the only thing keeping him from falling over at the moment "These will put you out cold, so take them only… Nicolaus, now look at me and listen—only when you need them. Do you understand?"

I understand. Thanks, Paul, Nicolaus placed the pills in his coat pocket after swallowing one.

This shouldn’t last much longer. You will get used to the dizziness before it starts to go away. Paul placed a ball of snow in his hands, melting it for Nicolaus to drink, noticing the pill he had just swallowed was threatening to come back up.

I feel better. Thanks, Paul, Nicolaus pulled his leg, heavy with the plaster cast, onto the car seat and slid in after it. His eyes, already half-closed, showed the potency of the drug.

I told your parents what to expect with your injuries, and they will be watching you closely for a few signs that I need them to look out for.

Nicolaus looked groggily over at Paul and smiled and then laughed a little, putting his head back against the car seat again. Like what kind of signs? he asked, wanting to laugh out loud, thinking for some reason this was funny.

Aren’t you going to answer him, Paul? Betsy asked, from the back seat.

Shh… he’s asleep!

~

Nicolaus ran along the familiar country road, the big oaks casting shadows on the path before him. His destination was the one-room schoolhouse, and up ahead patiently waiting was Sylvain, his friend.

Ach, your face, Nicolaus. Not again! Sylvain whispered, as he reached out to touch Nicolaus’s discolored cheek in disbelief. "Your datt did this to you again, didn’t he?"

Nicolaus swiped violently at Sylvain’s hand at once, remembering his friend was dead and that he had died in the same car accident from which he himself was returning home to recuperate, having been out in the world too long as it was. Knowing Sylvain could not possibly be speaking to him, he struggled to wake from the pool of dreams that he waded in and out of; they made no sense of reality in any way.

~

How are we going to get him in there? Esther asked Jacob and Paul, who were coming back after inspecting Nicolaus’s new living quarters in the barn. Apparently he was not welcome in the house because he had grown more accustomed to the world than their Amish way of life would tolerate.

I don’t feel good about this, Jacob, said Paul. Maybe we should take him back to Betsy’s house until he mends a little more. Paul looked around at the surroundings, not at all convinced that segregating Nicolaus from the rest of the family at this time was a good idea, even if it meant his possible conversion by so doing.

The potbelly stove in my workshop will keep him warm, and you saw the converted storage room. It’s just as nice as one of our bedrooms in the main house. It’s next to my shop so I can look in on him now and again, Jacob said, opening Nicolaus’s car door and trying to wake him.

Paul, you know he’s not going to stand for that. You saw the look on his face when he saw Esther and Jacob at The Eagle tonight. He wants to be home, Betsy said, taking Esther by the shoulders and giving her a hug.

I wish he had never taken up that guitar, Esther said. He wouldn’t have had to play music and sing in that awful bar for so long if he had just gone to work with you in your shop. None of this would have happened. She returned Betsy’s hug and looked down at Nicolaus’s guitar case.

All things are as they are. No need to fret about what has been. Let’s get him well so he can feel good about his new life, shall we? Paul suggested as he picked up Nicolaus’s guitar.

Esther, come stand here with me while they get Nicolaus to his room. I’ve been meaning to speak with you alone for some time now, Betsy said. She pulled Esther to one side.

What is it, Betsy? Esther asked as they turned and watched the men help Nicolaus from the car.

Paul and Jacob helped Nicolaus into the barn and allowed him to look around at his surroundings. What do you think, Nicolaus? Paul asked. His concern showed on his face.

Nice, where is the bed? Nicolaus asked, wishing for nothing but to sleep.

~

I thought you would want to see this for yourself. Paul came across the information while on a trip to New York a few years back. He clipped a few articles from the newspapers. It’s about Germain. I think you should read it, Betsy said, knowing of the love Esther once had for the man.

Betsy, don’t show me. Please. I have tried to wipe Germain from my mind for too long. Please don’t reopen the wound that will never heal for me. Esther looked down and then up to meet Betsy’s kind eyes of sympathy.

You will want to see these, Esther. Betsy handed her the clippings that Paul had accumulated over a few year’s time and then walked into the barn to see if she could help the men.

Esther glanced down at the newspaper clippings, folded in two. Opening them, she noted the dates, second of June, 1970. The headline blared a story of unrest at the Castleburg Penitentiary in Pennsylvania.

Guard Found Stabbed to Death. Germain Fisher, a Castleburg Penitentiary inmate serving a twelve-year sentence for armed robbery and possession of illegal drugs, was charged in the attack. Fourteen inmates were found injured and one dead.

Third of January, 1971, Germain Fisher was found guilty of murdering Officer Ben Toll, a six-year veteran of Castleburg Penitentiary. Fisher will serve his remaining sentence on death row.

How could you have let this happen to you? Esther spoke out loud, in complete shock, not sure what she should feel for the man she had loved with all her heart from childhood. Slowly, she entered the barn after drying her tears, not wishing anyone to know of her profound grief. She spoke tenderly to her son. The stove’s going to need a log or two during the night. They are over here. Esther bent down to show Nicolaus where they were kept beside Jacob’s worktable in an open-hinged wood box.

She looked up into his kind eyes and saw Germain there in them. She turned and walked away from her son, not wanting to show the weakness she had in her love for him. Nicolaus made his way to the bed, looking briefly at the wood box, and plopped his body down on the soft mattress, where he immediately fell into a sound sleep before Paul, Betsy, and his father Jacob left him there alone for the evening.

Okay, well, I suppose he won’t need to be covered. That coat will do until morning, I guess, Paul said, still uncertain that Nicolaus should be there.

~

Sarah, where are you going? Nicolaus asked as he caught her and Sylvain running for his father’s barn. The common meal was done and most of the congregation had left for the day.

He looked at Sarah’s sweet young face; she must have been all of five or six years of age as she motioned to Nicolaus to follow them. Indifferent and feeling detached from the fact that the three were children again, he rushed past her to meet Sylvain in the barn.

Are we playing hide-and-go-seek? Nicolaus asked, out of breath, as Sylvain pulled him in closer.

Where can we hide? Sylvain asked in a frightened whisper.

I know a great place. No one will ever be able to find us. Nicolaus took Sarah’s hand and ushered the two to a ladder in the barn and then up to another ladder that took them to the third story of the barn where the stall hay was stored. There they had their pick of a few good hiding places. He deposited Sarah in the corner. Sylvain followed and squatted down next to her.

Who are we hiding from? Nicolaus asked, a thrilled smile stealing across his face.

Don’t you know? replied Sarah, frowning as she looked to the side of Nicolaus to see behind him. It’s your father.

"My datt? Why would he be playing with us?" Nicolaus asked.

He went over to the edge of the loft and looked down, seeing his father’s shadow looming across the barn floor below. Turning, he placed his finger to his lips to gesture to the two to be still. The silence was deafening for a few moments, and then Nicolaus walked back to the darkened corner.

Is he gone yet? Sylvain asked, his eyes as big as golf balls.

I think so. Don’t go to the edge, Sarah. Come back over here with us, Nicolaus whispered, but Sarah had already bent down over the ledge to look for herself.

Nicolaus, you have to go home! Sylvain said. He took hold of Nicolaus’s arm.

Let go, Sylvain, you’re hurting me. What’s wrong with you anyway? This is my home.

No, Nicolaus, you are in grave danger. You have to leave now. This is not your home. Sylvain refused to let go.

Though sincerely troubled over his friend’s profound terror, Nicolaus’s main concern at that moment was Sarah. She was too close to the edge of the loft.

She looked over at Nicolaus and said, He is here, as if resigned to what was about to happen.

Come away from there, Sarah, he again ordered as he came to her side and took her hand. Just stay here with Sylvain. There is nothing to be afraid of. He moved back to look over the edge, finding it troubling the way the two were reacting. After all, it was only a childhood game, he thought as an ominous dark shadow slid in to cover him from the side.

What are you doing here? Jacob bellowed.

Nicolaus looked to the darkened corner where he knew his friends were hiding in safety. I’m hiding from… Nicolaus stopped and thought how odd it was that he was not afraid. You! he finished and looked down as he watched his father’s hands reach out for him slowly, connecting hard to the front of his chest. It was as though the entire process of being pushed had slowed to a moment-by-moment progression. Nicolaus felt his body floating past the levels of the barn to a heart-stopping thud on the barn floor, tearing the very breath from his lungs.

He stood for a moment over the child, he knew to be himself. The child looked to be peacefully sleeping. Get up, he whispered. But the child lay motionless. Then for no apparent reason or pursuit for reality, he turned and walked calmly into his father’s workshop and then entered the storage room and lay down to fall deep asleep on the soft bed he found there.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2

December 1974

Nicolaus, Age 20

Locked Doors

Go away, stop it. Dat tickles! Nicolaus blew a puff of air from his mouth in a vain attempt to stop the assault of tickling to his lips. Go away! Nicolaus turned his head just in time to see out of the corner of his sleep-dazed eyes an object flicker by. Feeling movement on his chest, he opened his eyes wider, looking face to face with the largest rodent-like creature he’d ever seen.

Holy mother of…! Nicolaus yelled as he jumped up, sending the long-whiskered vermin flipping through the air, its limbs flying wildly, trying to regain its equilibrium to land safely on the ground.

Nicolaus reached for the kerosene lamp his mother left there in the barn for him. Holding it high, he kept his eyes on the ground, focusing to detect any movement. He was not alone. He knew that for sure. But what could it have been? Maybe a cat? Yeah. It could not have been anything but. It was too big to be a rodent and too small to be any other wild creature from the surrounding woods. Yeah, just a cat, I’m sure.

Nicolaus could see his breath billowing white from his nose and mouth, and suddenly he felt the biting cold of his makeshift living quarters. The stove, it must have gone out. He placed his boot down on the cold floor, hearing a high-pitch squeal then felt something bite through and