An Awakening

by Laura Sweat

  I watch our feet and listen to the sounds they make as we step on the pavement. There are rocks and dirt along the sides of the road, in the shallow gutters, and I can never figure out where it comes from. I mean the road is paved after all. I can hear the crunch of our feet with each step. The sound bounces off of the faces of the empty buildings that line downtown for exactly one block.

  “You awake in there, Dreamy?”

  I am yanked back to present day life, sitting inside Boomer’s. Lydia is smiling at me, but with a questioning look on her face.

  “Uh, yeah. I guess I was daydreaming. Sorry ‘bout that.” I sit up and blink trying to pull my thoughts back to the present day.

  “It’s okay. You looked like you were miles away,” she answers with a tentative look.

  “I was remembering a walk to the post office with Grandma. It was almost like I was there again. I sure do miss her.” I begin to gather my things and take one last sip of my coke before I pause.

  “You really do live by all of that Christianity stuff, don’t you?” I say this because it dawns on me that Lydia is, much like Grandma, a true believer. I guess until this moment, I imagined her to be nonchalant about her beliefs. I don’t know why. It isn’t as though she hides her faith. Today, however, I have come to realize that it is a way of life for her. As I think back over the months that we have worked together, she has always been different.

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” She answers matter-of-factly, interrupting my barrage of thoughts.

  “I guess I just didn’t realize how serious you were about it until now. I don’t know why that is. Maybe I just wasn’t really paying attention to that part of you.” I feel somehow as though I need to explain my lack of understanding, so I babble on until she reaches out and touches my wrist.

  “It’s not a big deal, Jeriley. You don’t have to explain anything.”

  “I sort of feel like I’m getting to know you all over again. It’s like there’s this whole other side to you that I didn’t really get to know.”

  We both laugh a little at this and my ridiculous mind returns to its wanderings.

  “So, it’s real to you. I mean it’s not just a keychain or a sticker on your car.”

  “It is absolutely real. In fact, there is nothing more real or more important. I would be lost without Him.” Lydia has gotten my attention with this last statement, but feeling a little intimidated, I look at my watch and notice that our hour was up ten minutes ago.

  “Oh, we’re late.”

  “Really? Oh, well, you know lunch is the quickest hour of the day. Come on. Let’s get back.” Lydia gets up and I follow her to the counter to pay. I am relieved that our conversation has come to a halt even though my curiosity is peaked.

  We drive back to work and the day moves on without any more weirdness. I move through my afternoon tasks with ease and feel accomplished when 5:15 rolls around and since I have put in a full day, I get ready to leave.

  On the way home, I turn the radio on and hear some guy singing something about the Maker. It sounds good and not surprisingly, it turns my thoughts back to the conversation at lunch with Lydia. I find myself wondering about the statement she made about Him being real. I shake it off and finish the route home with the radio off.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I tried to warn you once before about your laziness in your current assignment. You may have the Master convinced of your ability to handle this girl. I, for one, am not willing to stand by and let her become an asset to the enemy.”

  “You will stay away from her or you will deal with me!”

  “Do not threaten me! I am your equal in ranks and I will not stand for any more of your poor judgment in cases such as these,” Zain counters.

  “I have it all planned out and you will not interfere. When I am done, the prize will be greater than anticipated. You should return to Russia where your skills can be better put to use,” Adrian says this with a sneer.

  “What have you accomplished, Adrian? Is she dead yet? Has she begun to worship our Master? Does it not appear that you are losing your prize?”

  “I am in full control of the situation. Stay out of this. It could be detrimental. You could ruin everything!” Adrian begins to get angry.

  “Perhaps you need some assistance with this one. If she is proving to be too difficult I could help you to persuade her.”

  “Zain, you will not interfere! This is my assignment. The girl belongs to me.” Adrian is livid. He cannot stand the thought of someone else getting near Jeriley.

  “Belongs to you?” Zain’s eyes and ears perk up at this. He may finally have something to run back to the Master with that will end Adrian. “What are you up to, Adrian?”

  “Zain. You have been a menace since the beginning of your time. You have come very close to being stripped on more than one occasion. You seem to have forgotten about your loss in Tibet that the Master still doesn’t know about somehow. Perhaps that report would finally be the end of you. You have been very fortunate up until now that I haven’t had time to get involved with your affairs. However, if you continue to meddle, I will gladly make time to rectify the oversight and properly report your failure. Are we completely clear?” Adrian says all of this to Zain in a very calculating and calm manner. Zain does not answer at first and Adrian gets impatient.

  “Do you understand, Zain, that if you do not stay out of my affairs, I will make sure that you are dealt with properly?” They are standing nose to nose now as Adrian has closed the gap between them.

  “You have made your point very clear, Adrian,” Zain answers with clenched teeth and obvious disdain for his fellow worker of iniquity. He appears to have gotten the point.

  “Good. Then I shouldn’t see you again for at least twenty years or so.”

  Zain disappears obviously mad, but with an inner resolve not to be defeated. Adrian takes a moment to calm himself before checking in on his assignment.

  CHAPTER 9

  As the day winds down, I go out onto the porch facing the beach and find myself revisiting the lunch hour with Lydia. The waves have a calming effect on me and I feel, for a moment, like I might fall asleep in the breeze.

  I know to whom she was referring, although I haven’t acknowledged it, or Him, or whatever, in a very, very long time. I wonder why not. A seagull flies over the house and lands out on the pier just as the phone rings.

  “Hello,” I answer absently.

  “Jeriley. It’s Stephen.”

  “Hey you. What’s up?”

  “Not much. I haven’t talked to you in a few days. Have you been busy?”

  “A little. It hasn’t been too bad. How about you?”

  “Not too bad. I have a feeling it is about to pick up, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Mr. Confident,” I answer stirring up a laugh.

  We sit in silence for the slightest moment. Nothing awkward. Just a brief pause.

  “How was your day?” He is the one who breaks the silence.

  “It was great actually. I had lunch at Boomer’s with Lydia.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “It was. We talked for a while and were actually late getting back to the office.”

  “Must have been some conversation.”

  “It was, I guess. We ended up talking about our grandmothers and their faith.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Lydia is a Christian and both of our grandmothers were. I didn’t realize we had that in common.”

  “That’s interesting. Did Lydia tell you she is a Christian?”

  “Yes, but I had sort of figured it out. I think I’ve known for a while, but for some reason today, it just hit me that she is serious about the whole thing.” As usual, Stephen is very easy to talk to and the topic doesn’t seem awkward at all.

  “That’s great.”

 
“You think so?” I ask curiously.

  “Absolutely. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I guess. I mean, I can think of worse things to occupy one’s mind.” I pause, not sure how to proceed with this conversation. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about all of that in a very long time.”

  “All of what?”

  “You know, Christianity. God.” I answer quietly.

  “Why is that?” He asks easily.

  “I don’t know. I grew up, got busy.”

  “Hmm. You say you grew up, so you’re saying that you used to think about all that stuff?”

  “When I was younger, I spent a lot of time with my grandma and she prayed with me and showed me things in her Bible. I guess you could say I was interested. I pretty much listened to anything Grandma had to say.”

  “She sounds pretty special,” he says quietly.

  “She was. I miss her.”

  “I bet you do. How long has it been?”

  “I was fourteen when she died.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You must have been very close.”

  “We were. I felt lost without her for a long time. I’m sure my life would have taken some different turns if she were still around.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “No, I’m pretty certain, it would’ve been different.”

  “Okay. How so?”

  “She was like some sort of guide for my life or something. I was so young when she died that I didn’t have any major decisions to make up to that point. She always seemed to know just what to say when I had a problem or a question. She could have given me some great advice when I got older, and I would have listened.”

  “There wasn’t anyone else in your life to give you sound advice?” Stephen asks his questions with genuine interest.

  “No. Not like Grandma. She was my absolute go to.”

  “Why do you think you really felt that way about her? Other than the obvious reasons you already mentioned. Why do you think she always knew what to say, and always had the best advice?”

  “Honestly, I’ve never thought about it. She was older so obviously wiser than I was.”

  We sit in silence for a couple of minutes and I continue.

  “She relied on scripture a lot. Actually, she used to say that there was a verse or Bible story for any problem a person might have.” I find myself reflecting on long lost conversations when thunder crashes directly overhead making me jump back to the current conversation with Stephen. “Whoa! Did you hear that?”

  “It was pretty loud.”

  “Yeah, it was. It sounded like it was right on top of me.”

  I get up to go inside and the thunder rumbles again right after I get the door closed.

  “That came up quick. I didn’t even notice any clouds.” I admit that I’m a bit surprised at the sudden change of weather.

  “It happens that way sometimes.” He seems a little vague for some reason. Maybe it’s just me. I must be tired.

  Getting comfy on my couch, I decide to ask a burning question because it occurs to me that I don’t know what Stephen believes.

  “What do you think about all of this biblical stuff?” I just blurt it out, otherwise, I will over think my question and the reason I’m asking, which will only lead to me changing my mind and I really want to know. Stephen’s opinion has become very important to me.

  “I believe with all of my being that every word in the Book is truth.” His answer is solemn. There is not a shred of doubt or indecision. His answer is solid.

  “And by Book, you are referring to the Bible.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Really. Just like that?”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No. I mean, it’s not that. You just sound so sure of your answer.”

  “That’s because I am.” He is resolute.

  Again, we sit in comfortable silence, although brief, while I roll all of this over and around in my mind. Finally, he offers up a challenge of sorts.

  “Why don’t you read it?”

  “Read it?” I say this as if I don’t know what he’s referring to, knowing full well. Immediately, I recognize this as a weak attempt at avoidance, but it won’t work.

  “Yes. Read it. You do own one, don’t you?” He isn’t going to let this go.

  “Uh. Yeah. I have one around here somewhere, I think.” I say all this with uncertainty while I contemplate whether or not I truly do have a Bible in my possession. Of course, I do! “I do! I have Grandma’s.”

  “Great. Maybe you could take just a few minutes every day to read a little something out of it. Try it for a week.”

  “That’s not a very long time.”

  “No, it isn’t. Just try it.”

  “I guess I could do that,” I answer.

  “I’ll call you in a few days and check on your progress. Promise me one thing, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Start tonight.”

  “I guess I could do that, or I could get up early in the morning—”

  “No,” he interrupts with a sense of urgency in his voice. “Don’t wait.”

  “Well, if you really think it’ll make that much difference—”

  “Just trust me. Some things are better not put off. Besides, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

  “Alright. I’ll read my Bible tonight. I better go find it.”

  “Okay. Good night, Jeriley.”

  “Good night, Stephen.”

  We hang up and I sit there and smile to myself while I think about my friend. He can be so mysterious sometimes. He seemed serious about wanting me to read and I gave him my word so I get up to find my Bible. I start searching in my room in a few of the boxes under my bed. I know I have it. The only thing is, I haven’t seen it in so long, that I have no idea where it is. It must be packed away someplace serious because I don’t even remember seeing it in the move. Maybe I should just get ready for bed and think about it for a while. It might come to me that way. Then it occurs to me that I haven’t looked in the small trunk that I have had since I was a girl. That must be where it is. It has my most prized possessions in it, of course, that’s where it is.

  I dig the trunk out of my closet, from underneath my shoes, and lay it on my bed. I play with the tricky latch and remember to press it in with my thumb while I move it up and slightly to the left with that little wiggle it requires to get it to release. It makes that sound it always does when I know I have finally gotten it right. I lift the top, allowing it to fall all the way back onto the bed. Familiar smells escape and I’m amazed once again at how these smells survive time. Inside I find a quilt and an envelope of pictures among a variety of other things that I really don’t have time to go through tonight. All the way down in the bottom, on the right side, I find Grandma’s Bible. It is worn and tattered but still together. I take it out, turning on the bed to get comfortable as I move the trunk over. I put the small feather pillow that was on top of it back in the trunk and close the lid. With no idea where to start, I lean back on my pillows and open the Book. It opens to Hebrews and I look down the page. This is chapter 13. This is as good a place to start as any I guess.

  “1. Let brotherly love continue. 2. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

  I wonder what that means. I decide that maybe I should Google it when the phone rings.

  “Hello?” I answer distractedly.

  “Hello, beautiful.” His voice is low and has its usual unnerving effect on me.

  “Adrian.” I am surprised that he called.

  “What’s the matter? You don’t sound happy to hear from me.”

  “I am always happy to hear from you. I was just in the middle of something. What are you doing?”

  “I ju
st found out that I have to leave tomorrow for a while and I want to see you before I go.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. Tonight. I know its short notice, but I don’t know when I’ll be back and I have to see you before I go. Can I come over for a while?”

  “Uh. Yeah. I guess. I was just—”

  “Good because I’m almost there.”

  “Are you serious?” I jump up and look in the mirror, grabbing a brush to run through my hair, hoping this is a joke.

  “I can see your driveway just ahead. You gonna let me in?”

  “Yes. I’ll let you in, but I have to warn you, I wasn’t expecting company so you can’t look at me.”

  This prompts a sly laugh from Adrian and I roll my eyes.

  “I’m serious. You should have called me sooner.” I’m a little irritated with him for not giving me more notice but it is short lived. I head to the door and hear that marvelous car of his outside. He kills the engine and slides out as I stand staring. His motions are fluid and smooth. He is obviously very comfortable and confident in his own skin. He looks up at me as he closes the car door and walks toward me making eye contact. His long coat catches in the sea breeze as he rounds the front of the car. I notice everything about him in an instant, down to the way his keys dangle from his fingers.

  He saunters up to me and before he is even close I can smell him. He tucks the keys into his pocket and stops in the doorway. Leaning against the door jam, he takes my hand and looks down at my fingers.

  “So you gonna let me in?” His voice is so quiet, I almost don’t hear him.

  I back into the house, unable to answer.

  Adrian follows me inside, letting the storm door shut behind him. We seem to float farther into the kitchen, eyes locked, as he shuts the inside door with his foot almost without my noticing.