Page 14 of Rage

Feeling helpless and shitty, I look from husband to wife. “I know this is a terrible shock, but I need to ask both of you some questions about your son.”

“What happened to him?” Orlah asks.

“We’re waiting for the coroner to tell us,” I say, hedging. “We found him at the nursery this morning, deceased.”

Without warning, the Amish woman collapses. Her knees hit the floor with a thump! Both Orlah and I rush forward, reach for her upper arms just in time to keep her from pitching forward.

“Ach du lieva,” Orlah whispers. Oh my goodness.

“Let’s get her over to the sofa,” I say.

The woman’s head lolls. For the span of several seconds, she’s deadweight. She’s also heavy, and it’s not easy to keep her upright. I’m thinking about laying her out on the floor when she appears to come to and raises her head.

“I’m okay,” she says, and struggles to her feet. “Just a shock, is all. My goodness, God doesn’t usually take them so young.”

“Let’s sit you down.” I glance at her husband, motioning to the sofa with my eyes.

He nods.

Leona makes a halfhearted attempt to dislodge our hands from her biceps. I stay with her and we settle her onto the sofa.

The Amish woman sags, puts her hands to her face, and begins to cry softly. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Setting my hand on her shoulder, I squeeze, make eye contact with her husband. He stares back at me, a child waiting for a slap from a ruthless parent.

“What happened to him?” he asks.

“I don’t know the cause of death,” I say honestly. “All I can tell you is that his body was found in the woods near the nursery.”

“In the woods?” As if not quite trusting his legs to support him, Orlah sinks onto the sofa beside his wife. “Mein Gott.” My God.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yutzy, when’s the last time you saw Samuel?” I ask.

“He went to worship with us last Sunday over to the Hochstetler place,” Orlah tells me.

“How did he seem?” I ask. “Was he worried about anything? Anyone? Was he having any problems?”

“Seemed fine,” the Amish man says. “Talking about the nursery mostly. Said business was picking back up. He was going to get that old greenhouse repaired.”

“He’d been away for a time, you know,” Leona adds.

I think about the tree Tomasetti and I had purchased. Samuel had seemed to enjoy running the nursery. He’d been proud of it and was good at what he did. The place had been immaculate.

“He’d been away?” I ask.

Orlah frowns at his wife. “Samuel was on rumspringa, you know. Like a lot of Amish boys, he got to going out and running around. The way them English youngsters do. Drinking and whatnot.”

Rumspringa refers to a period of time in a young Amish person’s life before they become baptized. A time when they have the freedom to do as they please without the constraints of all those Amish rules.

“A little too much frolicking if you ask me,” Leona mutters.

He frowns at her again.

This time, she frowns back. “Go on, Orly,” she says, “tell her.”

The Amish man’s gaze hits the floor.

“Tell me what?” I press.