by Emma Easter
“Speaking about the wedding, have you seen Derrick since then?”
“No. I haven’t seen him, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to face him.”
Audrey studied Sienna’s face. She looked so vulnerable. If only their parents were alive, they would have had the perfect advice that she couldn’t provide. She pushed the depressing thought away.
“You know what? I don’t really understand why you chose to do what you did, but I choose to support you, no matter what. It’s your life, and you can live it the way you want to.”
“Thank you, Audrey.” Sienna smiled. “That’s really why I chose to tell just you. I knew you would understand.”
“I’m not saying I understand, but I will support your decision, even though I think it’s crazy and thoughtless. Anyway, let’s talk about something more uplifting. I’m getting a promotion soon. The mayor’s office just sent me an email. Even though I haven’t read it yet, I already know that’s what it’s about.”
“Audrey! I’m so happy for you. At last, you finally get to live your dream of becoming the chief of police.” She hugged Audrey and then beamed. “You’ve been the only female police officer for a while, and now you’ll be the first female police chief in Rosefield. I’m so proud of you!”
“That’s what I’m most excited about,” Audrey said, smiling.
They changed topics, and Audrey told Sienna about the city parade they’d had a few days ago. After chatting for a few hours, Sienna yawned, then glanced at the clock.
“It’s past midnight. I should go to bed. I leave very early tomorrow.”
“And I’m supposed to be in bed now,” Audrey said.
“Night, sis.” Sienna got up and stretched. “I’ll see you before I leave.”
After Sienna went to sleep in the spare room, Audrey went into her bedroom and sat on the bed. She took her laptop from the bedside table and placed it on her lap. Her palms were slightly damp with anticipation as she opened her email inbox. She clicked on the mail from the mayor and began to read it.
As she read, her heart began to sink, and all her dreams evaporated.
When she finished, she stared at the wall, confused. It had never occurred to her that she would be treated like this. Not after she’d given thirteen years of her life to the Police force.
She bit her lip and reread the mail, praying she had somehow misread it. But there was no mistake, she had read the mayor’s message clearly. He was bringing in someone else to fill the position of police chief. From the words he used in his email, he didn’t seem to care how she took it. It was as if he wanted her to resign if the message didn’t sit well with her.
She narrowed her eyes as her disappointment turned to anger. There was no way she would let herself be treated this way. It was unjust, and she intended to fight it.
Her fingers flew over her keyboard as she typed out the most bile-filled email she’d ever written. After she was done writing, she sat back, read the email, and then smirked. There was no way she could send this email.
Sitting up again, she began to edit it. Once she was through, she reread it. It was now somewhat polite, protesting the mayor’s oversight and asking him to reconsider.
Satisfied with the email she’d written, she clicked ‘send,’ folded her arms, and pushed down the rage-fueled words threatening to spill out of her mouth. Hopefully, the mayor would send for her as soon as possible so she could explain how much she’d personally contributed to the growth of the Rosefield Police Force and why she deserved to be the police chief now. Not that Mayor Stanley didn’t know. Every time she met him since Chief Richardson retired, the mayor had told her that she was doing a great job. So, this email was surprising and hurtful.
She went into the bathroom to wash her face in preparation for bed. She splashed warm water on her face and then stared at her reflection in the mirror. People often told her she looked much younger than her age whenever she said she was thirty-two, but today she really felt old.
She changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, still fuming. If there was no favorable reply to her email from the mayor’s office before the end of the week, she would go there and personally fight for her rightful position. There was no way she would let some guy take the job for which she had spent years working.
Hopefully, I can convince the mayor that I’m the woman for the job.
Or I will quit.
Chapter Two
Assistant Student Chaplain, Bryan Larson, hid behind the ornate altar of the Beulah Bible College chapel. He watched the beautiful new girl who lay prostrate on the floor, sobbing, with growing concern. He had been troubled since the first day he saw her here, and his concern had only increased as he saw her weeping on the floor every day.
As the school student chaplain, he’d seen many students do the same, and he’d done it himself. But what troubled him about her was not the regularity with which she sobbed on the chapel floor, but the devastated look on her face when she got up to leave. She came very early every day before the general morning prayers and classes started, and also after classes ended. Sometimes, a few other students were at the chapel, but most of the time, it was just her . . . and him. It didn’t appear that she had ever noticed him watching, though, as she never looked his way.
He felt like one of the annoying self-proclaimed ‘Watchers’ in the school—students who were informally appointed by the new Provost to report any act of sin or what they perceived as sin. However, unlike them and their never-ending witch hunts, he wanted to help and comfort this girl. He couldn’t go on watching her suffer. He had to approach her today and find out what was bothering her and see if he could be of any help.
He went back into his tiny office. He had previously shared an office with the Senior Chaplain, Dr. Lincoln, but the vestry had been converted for his use last year to give Dr. Lincoln his privacy. The senior chaplain, who was always away on one preaching engagement or another, had put him in charge of the morning and evening prayers. He needed to prepare for them now.
He picked up his Bible, sat behind the desk, and started to study for the morning prayers while waiting for her to finish. She usually spent quite some time praying and would probably be through in about an hour. Whenever he came to the chapel in the morning, he found her there. She went away after the general morning prayers, but by the time he returned from a class in the evenings, she was already back there. He left the chapel at about eight o’clock every evening while she was still praying. As he did, he always felt uneasy because he suspected she stayed late into the night, weeping on the hard floor.
About an hour later, he went to see if she had finished, but she was still there.
Ten minutes later, she stood up.
She had her back to him as he strode toward her, but before he reached her, a troubling thought stopped him. Am I doing this because I genuinely want to help her or because I’m attracted to her?
He sighed. He’d never admitted that to himself until now. However, it was true. He was utterly smitten by her. But that wasn’t the only reason why he felt like he needed to help her. He was a chaplain and a student in his final year and therefore had a unique perspective which he hoped would enable him to help her spiritually or academically, whatever her problem was.
He watched her take a seat at the back and then turn to look out the window. He walked up to her, and she turned around just as he reached her. Her eyes grew big and then fear entered them.
He paused in concern. Do I look scary? Nobody had ever told him that he did. Why then was she afraid of him? She looked like she wanted to flee, and so he said quickly, “Hi, I’m the assistant chaplain. What’s your name?”
She spoke so softly he had to listen carefully to catch her name. “My name is Sienna.”
He repeated the name to confirm he’d heard it right, and when she nodded, he smiled at her. “I’ve noticed how troubled you look every time you come here to pray. Can I help you with anything?”
She started to s
hake her head, and he quickly added, “I do some counseling as well. If you tell me about it, I might be able to come up with a solution. If not,” he smiled, “as they say, a problem shared . . .”
She got up, the expression on her face like that of a trapped rabbit looking for a way of escape. “Umm, there is no problem. I just come here to pray . . . that’s all.” She turned around and began to hurry away as if she feared he might ask her what it was she prayed about.
“Aren’t you going to stay for morning prayers?” he called out and then sighed in frustration as she disappeared out the door. He sat down, his emotions churning.
Well done, Bryan. You’ve chased her off, and you probably won’t be seeing her here any time soon.
He sat gazing out of the window while trying to figure out how he could help her if ever she came back. He was still slightly perturbed that she seemed to be somehow afraid of him. God knew he couldn’t hurt a fly, but maybe the way he’d approached had been too aggressive.
Lord, if I can help reduce her burden in any way, please let her come back here soon, and show me how to help her.
He stood just as students started to enter the chapel and went to the office to get his Bible.
*****
Sienna entered her dorm room and flopped onto her bed. She glanced around the sparsely furnished room. Thankfully, her roommate was not around. She covered her face with her hands, bit her lip in distress, and for the umpteenth time, asked God to forgive her for her lustful thoughts.
Since she came to this school almost a month ago, she prayed fervently every day, asking God to cleanse her heart from all sin and take away the anxiety and guilt that plagued her. But instead of decreasing, her anxiety and panic attacks had somehow gotten worse. Because of that, she’d known not to keep going to the chapel after the day she saw that shockingly handsome chaplain. However, she had continued to do so. The more she saw him, especially during the morning and evening prayers, the more taken with him she’d become. And not just for his good looks, but his assertiveness as he preached his sermonette and the strength in his voice as he led the prayers.
She had tried to keep her attraction to him in check and had managed to do so, until this morning, when he’d spoken to her.
He had never spoken to her. She mostly only saw him right before the morning and evening prayers. However, today, he had walked up to her and asked her name. She had been so flustered, now she could hardly remember what else he had asked, or how she had answered, for that matter. All she remembered was that he had actually spoken to her, and her insides had turned to mush. He looked even more handsome up close. She’d imagined running her fingers through his tousled blond hair and getting lost in those deep blue eyes. Since then, the anxiety and guilt had preyed on her more than usual. Speaking with him had spiked the guilt and made everything worse.
She felt like a reprobate who could never be clean the way God wanted her to be. It was not God’s will for her to date or get married, she was sure of it. Wasn’t that why she broke up with Derrick? To dedicate herself completely to God and be holy in everything?
She’d come here thinking she would finally be able to commit herself wholly to God and find complete peace of mind. But that had not happened. Instead, meeting so many people who seemed more in tune with God than she was, and constantly listening to lectures about living a consecrated life, had puzzlingly increased her guilt and shame. Her inappropriate feelings for that chaplain had now taken away the last shred of peace she possessed.
She whispered a prayer for forgiveness once more, gathered her textbooks, and stood to go to her next class. She paused for a minute, wondering whether to pray again before she left and then she looked up at the time. She was already late. She whispered a short prayer and then left the room. Tomorrow, she would definitely have to start a fast to utterly subdue her wayward thoughts. However, the chapel was out of bounds for now.
She reached the class and found that, despite her lateness, the lecturer hadn’t arrived yet. She brought out her Church history textbook from her bag and took a front seat. She opened the textbook to read it but soon closed it again, distracted by the small group of people in the other row. They were holding some kind of meeting. She couldn’t catch everything they were saying except for one phrase they kept repeating: “New campus rules.”
She turned slightly to watch them. They all dressed like regular students, in jeans and sneakers, but they all had determined and somewhat angry looks on their faces. She knew now who they were. They were the students who called themselves, “The Watchers.” She’d noticed them before but had never really given them much attention. But looking at them now and listening to bits of what they were saying, something about them intrigued and scared her at the same time.
She listened with fascinated dread as they talked about fighting for total purity on campus and cleaning up the decay that was seeping into the school.
“The school authorities have given us the go-ahead to enforce the rules once they’re made official,” one of them said.
Sienna only mildly wondered what rules they were speaking about. The watchers themselves drew her. She envied them. They seemed like people who could stay on the straight and narrow without much effort. People like them never seemed to suffer the doubts that plagued her or people like her. They were confident in their spirituality and their place in God. They never questioned God’s love for them, certainly never questioned their salvation. She wanted to ask if she could join them. Maybe being with them would help her. Maybe their spiritual confidence and moral elevation would rub off on her.
But something stopped her from going to them. Their talk about purity and decay still filled her with dread. She wasn’t sure if associating with them would make her anxiety better, or make it worse.
She thought about it for some minutes and decided she would join them. She wanted their spiritual confidence. Her heart raced as she stood. Just as she left her seat, the Church History lecturer came into the room. She sat back down again.
World history was one of her favorite courses, and as the lecturer talked, she listened carefully. After the class, the lecturer gave them a class assignment to write an essay on “The Impact of the Early Church on the Roman Empire.”
The next class, “Apologetics,” wasn’t one she particularly enjoyed. She listened anyway and jotted down the points she wanted to read up on later. After the lecturer left, she breathed in and out as she felt a thread of worry go through her. Their next lecture was Church Missions, and the lecturer, Professor Cunningham, had told them they would be performing street evangelism soon, and she was dreading that. Her relationship with God wasn’t stable enough for her to confidently share the gospel, let alone try to talk to someone about it. She sighed softly. There was nothing she could do, so she had to find a way to manage her apprehension before that day came. She turned in the direction the “watcher” leader had taken before the lectures had begun that morning. The boy was still there. Most of the members of the group were seated in the same row as he was. She decided that right after the next class, she would go and ask if she could join them.
A hush suddenly fell over the class, and she knew the lecturer had entered. The girl beside her giggled and whispered, “Hottie alert!” and Sienna turned. Her eyes grew round in shock. The gorgeous young chaplain was standing in front of the class.
No, please don’t tell me he’s our instructor for today. Where is Cunningham, for goodness’ sake?
He looked over the class, his blue eyes moving from one end of the hall to the other. She began to hyperventilate, and then caught herself, forcing her lungs to breathe out, in, and out again. She lowered her head to avoid looking directly at him.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, “My name is Bryan Larson, and as many of you know, I am the assistant school chaplain. For now, I will be your sub-lecturer. Because of the shortage of lecturers lately and because of my major in Missions, I was chosen to stand in for Professor Cunningham. The
professor had to have unexpected major surgery, but he is doing well now and is recuperating.
“So, now that I have introduced myself, let’s get on with the class. I was told your street evangelism was coming up soon. As your lecturer for now, I’ve decided it will be this Saturday. I’ll start by dividing everyone into groups of four.”
Sienna raised her head slightly, unable to resist looking at him. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, but she couldn’t look away. His brows rose, and he seemed surprised to see her.
He turned his eyes away from her and said, “No, I’ll be dividing the class into pairs instead.” He walked to the back of the class, pointed at the two people nearest to the wall and told them they would be partners on that day.
He went on pairing everyone until he came to her. She sharply sucked in her breath as he looked at her. When he gave her a small smile, she trembled. She waited for him to pair her up with the girl next to her, but he didn’t. He looked away, and instead, he paired the girl with the guy on her left and moved on to the next row.
He finished pairing up everyone except for her, and she wondered if he had forgotten her. But that was not possible. He’d smiled at her. It was a small smile, but a smile all the same.
He began a brief lecture on the “etiquettes of evangelism,” and she looked down at her textbook.
Will I have to go tell him he skipped me after the class? She didn’t want to do that. That would mean going to talk to him alone and she didn’t want that. But what choice did she have?
The class ended about thirty minutes later, and everyone began to head out for the Hermeneutics class in Block B. She dallied, feeling nervous about going to talk to him.
As the last group of people made their way out of the hall, she decided against talking with him. She’d promised herself and the Lord that she would stay away from him. On the day of the street evangelism, she would merely attach herself to some people—maybe the guy and girl that she’d sat with today. If he asked, she would tell him she had joined them because he’d forgotten to pair her up with anyone.