pond. He circled past the sandy shallow area and headed straight for the fishing dock. When he reached the end of the twenty-foot wooden platform, he dove smoothly into the blue water. Sea lions she’d seen at the Cleveland Zoo couldn’t have acted more at home. He dove deep, swimming underwater for long periods, and then he resurfaced to shake hair and water from his face. Other times he crisscrossed the pond with uniform strokes of his powerful arms. When he would reach one end, he flipped upside down and started back underwater.
Catherine couldn’t take her eyes off him. Even Jake and Laura watched while they ate, mesmerized by the show. “I wish I could swim like that,” said Laura. “I can’t swim well at all.”
“Maybe when you’re finished, Isaiah could teach you.”
“Let’s go ask him!” Laura stuffed her remaining fruit into the hamper and finished her drink with one long gulp.
“Only in the shallow water,” Catherine ordered. “And only with your water wings on.” She picked up one set of wings and began to inflate them with air.
Laura grabbed her bruder’s pair and applied her lung power to the valve. While the females inflated the wings, Isaiah swam back and forth across the pond with abandon—sometimes a lazy butterfly stroke, other times flat on his back with the barest attempt at propulsion. He seemed to be making up for lost time or missed opportunities in his zeal.
By the time Catherine slipped a life ring around Jake’s waist and attached water wings to both children, Isaiah was heading toward them with his black hair slicked back. His smile couldn’t have been grander.
“Wadder gut,” he pronounced.
It took her a moment, but she realized he had spoken English. How confusing it must have been to watch his family mouthing Deutsch words, while his schoolteacher used only English in the classroom. No wonder he’d never learned to communicate well. “Jah, water good,” she agreed. Then she pointed at her niece, shrugged her shoulders with exaggeration, and mimicked a person swimming. She repeated the gestures, but this time she pointed at Isaiah and mimed him swimming gracefully. Then she stood back, hoping for the best.
He thought for a moment to find meaning in the antics. Then he nodded, took Laura’s hand, and walked her into the pond. Catherine picked up Jake and followed after, fearing he would take Laura into water too deep. But when the water rose to the child’s waist, he stopped and knelt down on the hard-packed bottom. He began a patient learn-to-swim program that should be in textbooks. First, Isaiah drew a deep breath and ducked his face into the water. He demonstrated this twice and then allowed Laura to duplicate the action. Each time he would hold his breath a few seconds longer. When it was her turn, he held firmly onto Laura’s arm so she remained stable and confident. Laura and Isaiah were soon holding their breath for a full minute, while Catherine watched near the shore as her nephew splashed around.
Next Isaiah gestured for Laura to join Catherine close to the shore, while he demonstrated treading water in slightly deeper water. When he returned for the child, he allowed her to practice the activity in water up to her shoulders. Laura was a quick study, and no fear of water slowed her progress. And Isaiah turned out to be a natural born teacher—patient, repetitive with movements, and offering security to ease his pupil’s anxiety.
Too bad no one offered any of that to him, Catherine thought. Without warning, something bit her big toe and she howled like a dog.
Isaiah couldn’t hear. Jake was splashing up a storm, while Laura was enjoying the lesson too much to pay attention. But the person standing on the hill heard the yelp, loud and clear.
“I warned you about the biting fish, Catherine,” called Daniel. “They mistake toes for bait.” He turned his focus back to the swimming lesson.
She carried Jake back to the quilt, wrapped him snuggly in a towel, and then inspected—and counted—her toes. “At least they didn’t break the skin,” she said when Daniel joined her at the quilt.
“They wouldn’t eat much if they had.” Daniel grinned with his second joke of the day. “With two ponds so close to the house, I’m glad Laura is learning to swim. And nobody could teach her better than Isaiah.” Daniel’s facial features and tone of voice softened, perhaps by a distant memory. Then he picked up his son and settled him on