Changed Somehow

by Chloe Flanagan

  Once in the dining room, Darla hurried off to referee a game of Monopoly that seemed to be getting contentious, leaving Natalie to wander among the tables alone.

  Mingle a little. Mingle a little. It couldn’t be that difficult. She only needed to channel the right figure … her middle school geography teacher, maybe? She’d been great with her students.

  Except for the rowdy Monopoly players, most of the kids were peacefully clustered into groups, playing games or talking. But at the corner of the room, one girl was sitting by herself, just staring at the table in front of her.

  Natalie remembered seeing the girl come through the meal line. She almost always had her head stuck in a book the entire time until Natalie gave her a filled plate. Then, she would lower the cover enough to send Natalie a bespectacled grin and say, “Thanks,” before going right back to reading. She even read as she walked to her table.

  It seemed odd that the girl wasn’t reading now. A rainy afternoon would be the perfect time for getting lost in a book—not practicing transcendental meditation, or whatever she was doing now.

  Curious, Natalie walked up to the girl’s table and sat down. “Hey, there. You look like you’re away with the pixies today.”

  The girl looked up, and her face contorted in confusion. “What pixies?”

  Oh, right. Natalie’s geography teacher had been from Australia and liked to throw around outback slang. Maybe she should’ve channeled someone else. She cleared her throat. “I meant you seem deep in thought.”

  “Oh! I’m just trying to work out something I’m writing.” The girl tapped a bright purple notebook on the table.

  “Something for school?”

  She shook her head, making her hair bob vigorously. “No. It’s something I’m doing on my own.”

  “Oh.” Natalie studied the cover of the notebook, where the name “Licha” had been written several times in various colors of ink.

  “Licha. That’s a pretty name,” Natalie observed.

  “Thanks. I was named after my dad’s mom. She was German. But my mom is from Haiti. She likes to say I’m a human melting pot.”

  Natalie smiled at the phrase. “And what does your dad say about that?”

  Licha lowered her eyes back to the table. “He died before I was born.”

  Oh, dear. Of course he did. “I’m so sorry.”

  Licha looked up, and her face brightened. “It’s okay. God’s got my back.”

  Natalie didn’t know what to do with that, so she returned her attention to the notebook. “Could I read something you’ve written, Licha?”

  The girl’s eyebrows rose high above her enormous glasses, which was an impressive feat.

  Her reaction made Natalie grind her teeth. It was a no-no to ask to see a teenage girl’s personal writings. She had been a teenager once; she should’ve known better. But to her surprise, Licha replied, “Sure,” and slid the notebook across the table.

  On some pages, the words were arranged into stanzas, like poetry. On others, they were formed into prose-filled paragraphs.

  She stopped on one paragraph, which was a sharp but coherent invective against her school’s informal caste structure. Nice to know some things never change. Even though at her high school, Natalie had been what most would term “popular,” she’d still found the whole experience to be soul-crushing and had been eager to graduate.

  After turning a few more pages, she came to the center of the notebook, which held another poem.

  He’s in the first few rays of sun that light the window glass.

  He’s in the sheets of frost that cloak the tiny blades of grass.

  He’s in the port side fog that meets the chilly morning air.

  He’s in the wind and pouring rain. God is everywhere.

  His face is in the laughter shining in his people’s eyes,

  His heart is with each child who in grief or hunger cries.

  His love shines on the sinner’s heart with grace and tender care.

  His love shines bright on all the world. God is everywhere.

  Natalie sat back and stared at the notebook. Finally, she looked up at the girl. “How old are you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “This … this is really something.”

  Licha edged closer and looked at the page Natalie was reading. “You really think so?”

  Natalie nodded. “It’s beautiful.” She flipped the book closed and handed it back. “In fact, I think it’s all really good.”

  Licha grinned. “Thanks for saying that.”

  Natalie returned the smile. “I’m sure your teachers say it all the time.”

  Licha’s expression sobered. “I don’t really write that much at school. My mom says I need to focus on more important stuff if I want to make it in life.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m winning at life right now, so maybe I’m not qualified to say, but,” Natalie tapped the notebook, “this seems pretty important to me.”

  “Yeah! I’m writing about the stuff that’s important to me—like my friends and family and God.”

  Licha’s face came alive with enthusiasm for discussing her creative work. It seemed a shame that she didn’t have the opportunity to do it more often. It felt to Natalie like Licha’s talent was being squelched.

  Natalie leaned back in her chair. “So what are you writing about now?”

  “I’m finishing up a reflection on the Battle of Jericho.”

  “Hmm. I think I remember that story. Very violent.”

  Licha leaned forward eagerly. “Yeah, but there’s more to it than that! It’s about courage and faith and …” The girl looked up and over Natalie’s shoulder at the sound of a scuffle. Then she rolled her eyes. “Oh, boy.”

  Natalie turned toward the commotion. Two of the boys who had recently been playing Uno at a nearby table were starting to push and shove one another.

  Just as the fight began to escalate, a strident, blaring sound filled the room and reverberated off the walls. The boys stopped fighting and covered their ears while exclamations of annoyance and distress went up all over the room.

  Licha rubbed her ear. “What was that?!”

  Natalie scanned the room until she spotted Glenn. He was sitting at a corner table holding a trumpet to his mouth. He blew another note, just as loud and grating as the first. She stood up. “What on earth is that man up to now?”

  Licha followed her as she walked toward Glenn. The rest of the kids slowly gathered around him too.

  “Are you trying to make us go deaf?” one of the fighting boys demanded.

  “Whaddya mean?” Glenn asked, eyes wide. “I’m playing music!”

  “Music?” The boy replied. “That sounded like a sick elephant!”

  Glenn leaned one arm on his knee. “Hey, now. Why don’t ya give me a chance? See, I found this trumpet in one of the closets, and I thought I’d try it out. What’s everyone else think? Think I can figure out how to play this trumpet?”

  There was a collective shout of “No!” while some kids preemptively put their hands over their ears.

  “Bunch of doubting Thomases, eh? We’ll see about that.” He noticed Natalie then, and winked, sending a rogue trickle of delight down her spine.

  Then he raised the trumpet again, this time playing a scale. The kids who weren’t covering their ears raised their eyebrows at one another.

  He pulled back and rolled his neck from side to side before raising the instrument and playing a cheery, jazzy intro she recognized after only a few bars. She’d heard Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong croon “Cheek to Cheek” hundreds of times, probably on Betty’s jukebox.

  She fell back a step as he continued playing. He was good. Quite good. How did he manage to keep surprising her?

  None of the kids were covering their ears now. Instead, they were all exclaiming, “No way!” and pointing at Glenn as his deft fingers depressed the valves.

  More kids gathered around, and he picked up the tempo of the song. His face transform
ed with a frank, unadulterated exuberance that really did remind her of old pictures of Louis Armstrong playing the trumpet. His joy seemed to radiate and enfold her, bright and balmy like the first few rays of sunshine after a week of rain.

  He launched into a stylized reprisal of the first verse, pressing the mouthpiece to his lips more firmly.

  Ooh, he was probably a terrific kisser.

  Immediately, her frame stiffened. Where in the world had that thought come from?

  Glenn picked that exact moment to look straight at her, and a rare flush of embarrassment crept over her cheeks. It wasn’t like he could read her thoughts, could he?

  The lines around his eyes creased into a smile, just for her, it seemed, and the melody wound back to the final chorus, “Heaven, I’m in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak …”

  Her own heart was pounding fiercely as the notes echoed through her. She couldn’t seem to look away from his face. What was happening to her?

  His song ended then, and the kids burst into applause, snapping her to attention and causing her to realize how close she had moved to where he sat. His eyes hadn’t left her yet.

  “That was amazing,” she murmured.

  His face colored, but his grin persisted. “Thanks!”

  The kids swarmed forward and began chattering, helping to fully bring her back to earth. She moved away. It was time to get back to the kitchen. Glenn obviously had the crowd control thing down.

  But as she turned, she almost collided with Licha, who was still holding her purple notebook.

  Her skin prickled. The Battle of Jericho. “I have an idea!” Natalie blurted out.

  17

  If someone had told Natalie a week before that she’d be organizing a children’s program, for a church camp of all things, she would have laughed hysterically.

  Yet here she was, having spent the last two days teaching a quartet of squirming adolescents how to sing from their diaphragms, and feeling every bit as out of place as Whoopi Goldberg’s character in Sister Act.

  The wildest part was that the whole thing had been her idea! Her vague notion that Licha ought to share her talent with her friends had morphed into a vision for a mini program that would include musical help from Glenn, along with some of the other kids.

  Somehow, the plan had caught the attention of Father Reuben, the young associate rector from Glenn and Darla’s church, who had stopped by the camp to see how things were going. He had been so pleased that he’d asked the kids to incorporate what they put together into a kind of church service he wanted to hold at the camp at the end of the following week.

  On hearing of that development, Licha had dissolved into panic, convinced she’d never be able to present her writing in such a public setting. But after two days of coaching and tips from Natalie for managing stage fright, the girl was beginning to gain confidence.

  Now they were checking out the acoustics in the small chapel where the service would be held. Natalie stood at the lectern and nodded in satisfaction. “Can you come up here, where I’m standing, Licha? I’d like you to read the Scripture to test the sound.”

  Licha took Natalie’s place and began to read. “The Lord said to Joshua—” she paused and released a weary sigh.

  “What’s wrong?” Natalie asked.

  “Do I really have to do all this?” The girl’s glasses slid down her nose and she pushed them up again.

  Natalie hesitated. Even when expressing her doubts about her ability to speak in front of the group over the past few days, Licha hadn’t posed that particular question.

  Stepping up beside the girl, Natalie put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything. Everyone will understand if you decide you can’t.”

  Licha’s whole frame relaxed.

  “But I hope you will.”

  “Why?”

  She fumbled for the right words, not just a line of dialogue, for once. “Because you have important things to say, Licha. You’ve got a powerful voice in there and others need to hear it.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She nodded thoughtfully, then returned her attention to the reading. “The Lord said to …” She stopped again and looked up. “Natalie, what if you did this part?”

  Natalie blinked in surprise. “You want me to read the Scripture?”

  “Yeah! It would be cool because you’re an actress and …” Licha looked down at the paper she was holding, “I think I’d feel better if you were up here with me.”

  “O-oh.” Natalie bit her lip. Did Licha really need her? No one had needed her in a long time, and the last time … well, that had been a different story. This was a simple request.

  “All right, if you think it will help.”

  “Oh, great! Thank you!” Licha chirped, beaming her infectious grin.

  18

  The other kids whooped and cheered for all they were worth as Glenn and the four singers took their seats. The four of them had sung “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho” with impressive gusto, considering they weren’t used to singing in front of people. And Glenn had provided skilled and lively accompaniment on his trumpet. Natalie was floored by the support the boys and girls gave each other.

  Once the clapping stopped, she took her place at the lectern and read the text from Joshua 6, channeling her best narrator voice to draw the children into the story. It seemed to work, because when she was finished, no one was checking the clock or staring out the windows. Instead, all eyes were on her. That was a good sign for an audience so young.

  Natalie reclaimed her seat next to Licha, and the girl straightened her shoulders, taking a shaky breath. When she didn’t stand right away, Natalie reached over and pressed her hand, prompting her to respond with a grateful smile. Then Licha stood up straight and walked to the lectern.

  “God told Joshua and his people to march around the city of Jericho for six days in a row and seven times on the seventh day. That seems like a weird way to work for a goal, doesn’t it?” She crossed her arms and casually leaned on the lectern.

  Natalie nodded in approval. Cool and conversational. Good. She’d watched Licha practice plenty of times, but the girl had an extemporaneous style, and her talk had changed a little with each practice such that, even now, Natalie wasn’t sure exactly what Licha was going to say.

  Licha continued. “Doesn’t that sound kind of weird, Nikki?” She addressed one of the girls in the front row. “What if I told you God would help you make straight As, but only if you marched around the principal’s desk seven times?”

  Several kids snickered.

  “What about you, Carlo?” She looked at a tall boy near the edge of the room. “Do you think it would help you ask a girl out if you marched around her a few times first? I mean, I’d tell you to blow a trumpet to catch the ladies, but I think that only works for Glenn.”

  Howls of laughter shot up all over the room, and Natalie felt her cheeks heat. Glenn’s face reddened too, and he waggled a finger at Licha.

  She flapped her hand at him in return. “I’m just playing. I know this story happened a long time ago. But sometimes the rules and guidelines we’re supposed to follow to succeed in life today are just as confusing. The people in charge stack up all these dos and don’ts for us at school and in life and say that, if we follow them, we’ll get what we want. And maybe we try. Maybe we do everything we’re supposed to do and we still end up finishing last in the race. Still feeling like none of it matters.” Her eyes rested on Kendrick for a moment, and she sent him a kind smile.

  “But Joshua didn’t hit the Israelites with some random list of guidelines. He didn’t make a YouTube video called ‘Josh-man’s Top 7 Ways to Conquer a City.’ No! This was a battle plan straight from Almighty God for how to conquer through him!

  “See, from the very beginning, God had a plan for this people, to give them blessings they couldn’t even imagine. Not just treasure or land; he wanted to make them hi
s very own. Call them by his name, and set them apart as special. But they weren’t always good at realizing it.” She threw up her arms in frustration.

  “God delivered them from slavery, and they worshipped made-up gods. God gave them miracle super food in the middle of a desert, and they whined about it. They second-guessed his goodness over and over and over.”

  She came out from behind the lectern and paced the floor. “But we’re not much better, are we? God gives us gifts every day, like beautiful, sunny mornings, great music, friends, and people that care about us, but all we do is complain! We close our eyes. We don’t notice. And we try to fill our need for God with anything else we can think of!”

  Natalie swallowed hard. Wow. She was almost positive Licha hadn’t said that last part during practice. She leaned forward, laser-focused on the girl’s words.

  “But God doesn’t give up on us, just like He didn’t give up on the Israelites. He gave them a city to conquer. Not with their own rules. But with a battle plan that reminded them who they were marching for and who they belonged to.”

  Licha paused and looked down for a second, as if praying or thinking. Then she looked up. “I think God has a city for every one of us. I think he has a unique plan that we couldn’t dream up even if we wanted to. I think he has a bucketful of love for all of us … enough to make up for all the times and ways we thought we missed it before. And he knows there are walls keeping us from that love. Like doubts that we’re not good enough for his plan or fears that we’re unworthy of his love. But those aren’t his walls; they’re our walls! You know what? He doesn’t even expect us to figure out our own way around them! He’s got the battle plan to yank those walls down. All we have to do is have faith.”

  As Licha brought her talk to an end, Natalie scanned the room. All around, there were hopeful, encouraged expressions on the other kids’ faces. Father Reuben stepped up to Licha and took her hand in both of his. “Amen! Amen, Licha. What a blessing! Thank you.”