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“Nä, nä…” Taunte Dorcas stood and eased around thetable, her face downcast. “There are enough sandwiches and pickled beets for two more. I’ll get plates.” She slipped around the corner.
Onkel Hosea pointed to the table. “Timmy, you take Earl’s usual place there beside Herman. And, Gil, grab that chair—” He winced. “Ach, what am I thinking? You can’t lift it from its hooks with only one hand. I’ll get it and put it next to Joseph. Wasn’t that always your spot?”
Gil swallowed. “Jo. It was.”
As Timmy slid into the empty seat with a bright smile, Joseph rose. “I’ll get the chair for him, Pa.”
Onkel Hosea offered a quick nod and sat down.
Joseph unhooked the chair from the pegs on the wall and placed it at the end of the long table, next to his own chair. He sent a side-eye look at Gil and patted the ladder back. “Here you are. Better sit so Ma knows where to put your lunch.” He returned to his spot and picked up his sandwich as if he’d never been interrupted.
Gil sat, careful not to bump his arm.
Taunte Dorcas carried in two plates, each holding a ham sandwich, a pile of cubed purple beets, and a fork. She put one in front of Timmy, then reached across the table with the second. “Joseph, give this to your cousin.”
Joseph did so. “Will you need me to feed you those beets? You never could do much with your left hand.” A hint of teasing colored his tone—an apology his pride prevented him from uttering.
Gil gave him a grin, his means of accepting it. “Nä. You’d probably stick them in my ear instead of my mouth.”
Adelheid giggled, and Herman and Timmy exchanged snickers. Onkel Hosea gave him and Joseph a meaningful lookGil remembered well from his childhood. It said bothvery funnyandenough silliness. And it made him feel more at home than he could explain.
He picked up his fork and made a clumsy stab at a beet chunk. “I wanted to tell Earl what the boys said about him at practice this morning.” Taunte Dorcas and Joseph stopped eating and looked at him. “The other trumpet players, Leo and Jack, said they needed him.” He managed to skewer the beet. “And the entire band said they would all quit if Earl didn’t come back.” He popped the beet in his mouth and chewed, letting his gaze move from his aunt, to his uncle, to his cousin.
Onkel Hosea looked at Taunte Dorcas and nodded. “That’s nice, isn’t it? That they miss Earl so much?”
Taunte Dorcas dropped her attention to her plate. “Jo, it is, but…” She whisked a frown at Onkel Hosea. “He can’t go back. Not while he’s hurt.”
“But,” Timmy piped up, “we’re all thinking of ways for him to be able to march with us in McPherson. Orly Thiessen told Charles Wallace that Earl could ride in a goat cart and play his horn while we march.”
Gil nearly choked on the beet. “He did? When?”
Timmy’s bright gaze shifted to Gil. “When you were helping Alfred tune his trombone.”
Taunte Dorcas shook her head. “A goat cart? Goats are unpredictable. They need a firm hand to guide them. If Earl was playing his trumpet, he couldn’t control the cart at the same time. It might take off with him in it. He could be hurt even worse than he was yesterday.” She shook her head again, the movement adamant. “Nä, don’t you even consider such a thing, Gil.”
Despite his aunt’s reaction, Gil couldn’t help butcontemplate the idea. Would it work? His eagerness to include Earl overrode any hesitance about addressing his aunt. “If I assigned someone to lead the goat, would you let Earl ride in the cart and play with the band?”
Onkel Hosea cleared his throat. “I think we should let him try it, Dorcas. Being in the band has been very special to Earl. He’s so glum about falling. He thinks he let everyone down. This would make him feel a lot better, don’t you think?”
Taunte Dorcas bit her lower lip, uncertainty lining her brow.
Onkel Hosea put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his expression pleading. “If Gil finds someone trustworthy to guide the cart, will you let Earl ride in it?”
Gil stared at his aunt, his heart pounding in hope. Her approval meant so much to him. Her refusal would crush him.
Finally she sighed. “I suppose I would let him try. Only if you find someone who knows how to control the goat.”
Timmy let out a whoop. Everyone jolted and gaped at him. He grinned. “I know who can do it.”
Gil swallowed a chortle. The boy looked so sure of himself. But he’d never gone up against Taunte Dorcas. Depending on whom he suggested, he might suffer a mighty defeat in a few seconds. Gil asked, “Who do you think should do it, Timmy?”
Timmy flipped his hand in Herman’s direction. “Him.”
—
Orly Thiessen’s fatherdelivered the goat and cart to the Batys so Herman could practice with it as often as needed to win Taunte Dorcas’s trust.
The first few times the band rehearsed with Earl riding in the cart, Joseph walked alongside, keeping a close eye on his brothers. Gil coached the boys to modify their stride or evenmarch in place for a couple of beats if the goat’s pace didn’t remain consistent. There were a few mishaps, and at times he wondered if the idea would really work, but by the third practice the boys and the goat were working well together. During the cookie breaks, he and Joseph engaged in conversation. Though still more stilted than Gil would prefer, at least the deepest animosity seemed to have disappeared. For this, Gil was grateful. It gave him hope that he and his cousin might one day return to the close friendship they’d shared when they were younger.
