by Dekker, Ted
I didn’t know what to say.
“Know that you are loved, my dear,” he said in soft voice. “Know that you can and will rise above all of your fears. I now call you water walker.”
“Water walker?”
“You walked through the waters of fear, didn’t you?”
Yes. I had, hadn’t I? And that immediately brought to mind my other fears. Like being afraid to see Paul. What was wrong with seeing Paul?
“Do you think it’s wrong of me to have a boyfriend?” I asked.
He stared at me, and at first I thought he would think the idea absurd. Who did I think I was, asking a stranger what he thought about such things?
But he didn’t feel like a stranger, and when he answered, his voice was sincere.
“You’re eighteen. In this country that gives you the right to make that decision for yourself.”
“It does.”
“Only you will know if that helps you or hurts you. Always remember one thing: God isn’t a boat, or the water, or any boy for that matter. He’s in your heart. Let go of your fears of this world and find him there.”
His eyes seemed to be melting me. I suddenly felt like I was going to cry.
He lifted his hand and held my shoulder in his gentle grasp. “I wish I could save you from all of your troubles, my child. But you must walk the path before you and walk your own waters to the place where only love resides.”
He kissed my forehead, stepped passed me, and bounded into the boat, which glided deeper into the lake.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
“So pleased to meet you, Eden. You give me courage. I have to go . . . Not to worry, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He grinned wide. “Go find yourself a boyfriend, you look like you could use some fun.”
And then he was rowing.
I watched him until he was around the corner, still glowing with courage at my accomplishment. It struck me that in just two days I had turned eighteen, I had been asked to be Paul’s girlfriend, I made my first visit into the city, I had become very wealthy, I had met a new friend, and I had walked on water. Kind of.
What would Mother say?
The question jarred me and my eyes snapped wide. The ceiling, not the lake, hung in my vision. It had been a dream. Yes, of course, a dream.
But that was just it: it hadn’t felt like a dream—not at all. And thinking about that, something else struck me: I was going to honor Paul’s request and meet him at the field the next day during my free hour, wasn’t I?
My heart was racing and my skin was wet with sweat. Yes, I was. I was eighteen, I could do that. I wanted to do that. In fact, I had to do that.
Mother will drown you if she founds out.
No . . . No, she couldn’t. I was a water walker.
How little I knew.
EPISODE THREE
16
HAVING MADE the decision to accept Paul’s invitation to meet him in the field, I could think of nothing else. Actually, as I thought about it, I hadn’t so much made a decision as given myself permission, because I could now. I was no longer a young child under the thumb of my mother’s every wish. I had become an adult, and with that came a new kind of freedom.
Mother would say that I was in a state of denial, that place she often accused me of being when I wasn’t readily aware of my sinful thoughts. That I wasn’t feeling guilty about my plan to see Paul because my desire had blinded me.
But I wasn’t blinded. In fact, I was seeing more clearly now than ever. I had faced my fears and I had walked on water so to speak, even if it was only in a dream. Well, I was going to walk some more, right down to the field at four o’clock during my free hour. I would see Paul because seeing Paul was what I wanted.
I must have looked at the clock a hundred times that morning and through the afternoon as I counted down the hours. Never before had my daily rituals or household chores seemed so tedious.
Mother was in an exceptionally good mood, which made perfect sense—she had just come into a small fortune, so when I asked if I could take Bobby to the field during my free hour she gave permission with only a small warning to be careful. I found Bobby playing in his room, and we were out the door before Mother could change her mind.
Bobby kicked rocks as we walked the gravel road toward the field. The day was still hot and the air thick, but I couldn’t have cared less. My heart felt light and for the first time in a while the world seemed new. Hopeful.
He ambled ahead of me and sang so loudly that he startled a flock of birds in a nearby tree. With a loud rush of wings they took flight and disappeared into the dense cover of the swamp.
I laughed, which only made him want to sing louder.
“Bobby Joe, he played three! He played knick-knack in a tree. Knick-knack patty smack, dig the dog a bone! He wants his treats so he’s swimmin’ home!”
He turned around, smiled, and swept his arms through the air with a flourish. “He wants his treat so he’s swim . . .ming . . .home!” He held the last note as long as he could, then beamed, toothy grin spread wide. “Wanna hear it again?”
I laughed. “On the way home, okay? After we’re done at the field.”
“Okay!” he said and pointed to the path just ahead on the left. I could see the field from where I stood and, there sitting in the middle of it, was Paul. “Race you!”
Bobby broke into a hobble-sprint, arms pumping, his clumsy feet kicking up dust as he went. I followed close behind and ran through the short patch of wild grass separating the field from the road.
“I won!” he said and lifted his arms high into the air as I pulled to a stop beside him.
“You’re fast,” I said, but my attention was on Paul who was waiting for me no more than fifty feet away. He was sitting on a checkered blanket he’d spread in the grass.
He stood and waved.
“Hi, Paul!” Bobby yelled and waved back.
“Bobby,” I said, “I’m going to talk to Paul, okay?”
I didn’t want to be rude to Bobby. Having him along was the only reason Mother gave me permission to come to the field. I couldn’t simply abandon him to play alone while I talked with Paul. Yet, I wanted nothing more than to sit on that blanket by Paul’s side. Alone.
“I’d really like to talk with him privately for a few minutes. Is that all right with you? Then we can all talk together. Okay?”
“Okay. Can I climb the tree?” He stared at a large maple to his right.
Mother wouldn’t have approved, Bobby was better at falling out of trees than he was at staying in them. “I don’t know . . .” Then again, it would occupy him. But then I spotted a turtle making its way through the thick grass ten feet away and I pointed it out.
“Look!”
His eyes went wide and he ran for the creature. “A red-eared slider. Wow. Can I play with him?”
“I tell you what, you wait here and watch the turtle while I talk to Paul. After I’m done we’ll take him down to the lake. Deal?”
He chewed his lower lip and nodded his head, eyes fixed on the turtle. “Deal.”
He sat cross-legged in the grass and began to trace his finger over its shell.
Others thought Bobby was simple, but that’s what I loved about him. He saw the world like a child. Nothing was complicated; everything was fascinating, even a turtle, even though he’d seen a thousand or more.
“I won’t be long,” I said and looked toward Paul. “I promise.”
“Okay,” he said, but he was already transfixed with his new friend.
I took a deep breath, smoothed my dress, and started walking toward Paul. With each step my heart thumped louder and harder, just like it had when I stepped out of the boat the first time. No, it was more than that. This was joy and fear and something else I only felt when I was with Paul—something I couldn’t explain.
I couldn’t help but smile as I came closer. Paul was wearing a blue button-down shirt with khaki pants and black work boots. When I saw his eyes, a
tingle spread through me. He wasn’t simply looking at me. He was staring like I was the only other person in the world.
My heart was flirting with temptation, I knew that much was true.
I stopped at the edge of the blanket and looked into Paul’s eyes. He took a step toward me and smiled. The summer breeze brushed his hair across his face. A wave of nervousness washed over me and I could hardly breathe.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I hoped you’d come,” he said.
“Here I am.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” I said softly.
Neither of us said anything for a moment.
“Oh, hey . . . want to sit down? I brought a blanket.”
“I can see that.”
“Yeah, I guess you can.” He scratched the back of his neck, his only nervous tic. “Kinda stupid pointing out the obvious, huh?”
“No, it’s nice. Thoughtful.” I settled onto the blanket and nervously arranged my dress over my legs as he sat across from me.
We were both quiet and just looked at each other for a while. It was strange how Paul and Bobby were the only people I felt like I could simply be with and not feel like I had to fill the silence with small talk.
Paul smiled and fidgeted with his hands.
“What?” I said. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“You look nice. I like your dress.”
“You’re just trying to flatter me.”
“Maybe a little,” he said. “Is it working?”
“A little.” My face got hot and I knew I was blushing.
The wind blew gently, bending the taller grass near the far edge of the field. Paul and I had spent time together before, but this seemed different. We weren’t kids anymore, simply passing the time with games and stupid things while the adults did the important things of life.
“I brought you something,” I said and reached into the deep pocket Mother had sewn into my skirt.
Paul’s attention went to the small package of brown paper and twine that I’d handed to him. “What’s this?”
“Just something I made for you. It’s not much, but . . .”
“Really?” He peeled the paper away and unwrapped the straw doll that I’d made for him the other day. His eyes went wide.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
He cradled it in his hands. “I love it.”
“You do?”
“You made it, so I love it. Thank you. I’ll keep this forever and think about you every time I see it.”
“I hope so,” I said. And I meant it.
We talked for a half hour as the sun sank lower in the sky. We talked about what we liked and didn’t like about living in the swamps, how I loved math and how he hated it. How his father wanted to bring him into the moonshining business even though Paul didn’t want to.
“Well, what are you going to do then?” I asked.
“I’m going to be in a rock band.”
“Rock band?” I asked. “Does your father even allow you listen to that kind of music? Mother never lets us listen to anything other than that old gospel music.”
“He lets me when my mom’s not around. My dad says the music he grew up with was the last time rock and roll was good. He lets me listen to all of his old records—Led Zeppelin, Queen, the Eagles. I’m even learning to play the guitar.”
There was a long pause in the conversation and he scooted closer. “I thought about you all day, Eden.”
I hesitated. “I thought about you too.”
“Really?” He blinked.
“You seem surprised.”
“Well, a little bit. What’d you think about? I mean, when I crossed your mind.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Little things, I guess. It’s stupid. Forget it.”
“No, tell me. Just one thing.”
“One thing?” I said.
He held up one finger. “Just one, then I won’t ask anymore. Promise.”
I fidgeted with the blanket. “All right then. This morning I thought about how you kind of snort when you laugh really hard.”
“I don’t snort.”
“You do. A little, but it’s cute.”
“I must get it from my mom.”
I laughed. “I think you’re right. I’ve always liked it, though.”
“If you like it then I’m happy. What else?”
“You said one thing.”
“C’mon, just one more. Please,” he said. “Then I’ll tell you something I like about you.”
I looked at him and smiled. “Well, there’s the way you make me smile. You always know what to say to me. No one else treats me like you do. It’s . . . nice. Besides Bobby, you’re my only real friend. You accept me for who I really am.”
“Liking you is easy. You’re perfect, Eden.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t say that. I’m not.”
“Maybe not in your mind.” He gently placed his hand on top of mine. “But you are.”
The warmth of his skin against mine sent a shock up my arm and through my whole body. I drew a short breath. For a moment I felt like that one touch would send me soaring on the wind and high into the sky.
“Would your father approve of you holding my hand?” I asked.
Paul’s eyes shifted to the tree line. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He had a far-off look when he said it. So he was here without his father’s knowledge. He had taken his own risks to be here with me.
His fingers lingered across the back of my hand. I knew he was as nervous as I was because I could feel the slight tremor in his hands. “Do you see me as more than a friend?”
I hesitated. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a dam that was held together by a single pebble, and I was about to kick it loose. I wanted nothing more than to do just that no matter what might happen because of it.
“I don’t know. I think so.”
His eyes searched mine. His mind was churning, I could practically hear it. But what was he thinking? What if he didn’t really like me too?
“Yes,” I said. “I like you.”
Paul smiled and squeezed my hand. “You know I like you too. I kinda think of you as my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. I liked the sound of that.
I turned my hand over until my palm pressed against his, and I held his hand. Wrong or not, I felt something special for Paul and I wanted him to know it. But only him.
“Girlfriend,” I said. “What does that mean? I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend before. And what does it mean that you’re my boyfriend?”
Paul caressed my hand with his thumb. “It means we’ll be here for each other. Always. I’ll protect you and think about you. Just you, no one else.”
I smiled. “I like that idea.”
“We’re growing up, Eden. No one can stop that, not your mother or my father. Even they know that part of growing up is loving someone.”
I stopped. Looked him in the eye. “Love?”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Have you?”
I shook my head slowly.
“How else do you describe it?” he said.
“I don’t know. But love, it seems—”
“It seems right, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
In that instant I’d kicked the pebble away and now joy crashed through the dam like I’d never felt before. Joy that I don’t think could have any other name but love, and not in the way Mother or Father loved me. But it wasn’t just happiness that spilled out. It was fear too. Mother would eventually find out. She would know how Paul felt and how I felt about him. What would happen then?
“Eden!” Bobby yelled from the tree line. He held his turtle high over his head. “Can we take the turtle to the lake now?”
How long had we been there? “I’ll be there in just a minute, okay? Then we’
ll go to the lake.”
“When can I see you again?” Paul asked.
I turned to Paul and held his hand tighter. “I don’t know.”
“Tomorrow. You always have the free hour at four, right?”
“But my mother—”
“Won’t have to know why you came. Did she know today?”
“No,” I said.
“See. As long as we’re careful no one will know. If no one knows then why can’t we see each other?”
I released his hand and stood to my feet. “All right. Tomorrow, a little after four. I’ll probably have to bring Bobby.”
“Eden!” Bobby yelled.
“I’ve got to go. Mother will come looking for us if we’re not back soon.”
Paul stood and took my hand again. “I’ll be thinking about you tonight.”
“I’ll think about you too.”
“Do you promise?”
“Promise.”
He took a step closer until his body brushed against mine, then leaned close and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”
I closed my eyes as his warm lips lingered on my skin. I was sure my heart would explode just then. Nothing else mattered and the world fell away. There was only Paul and me. And his kiss.
He stepped back and gently wiped his thumb on my cheek where he’d kissed me. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I said softly. But inside I was singing at the top of my lungs.
17
MOTHER HAD always told me that the reason we ended and started each week with a ritual baptism was to, once again, get rid of the old and make all things new. That’s why every Sunday morning Mother, Wyatt, Bobby, and I would gather in the holiness shed, as Mother called it, and drown me. That’s why Mother would lay seven straps against Bobby’s bared back. That’s why she would recite scripture, and rejoice after our sin was properly dismissed through the lamb and goat.
I was the lamb and Bobby was the goat, because I was born beautiful and Bobby was born ugly, she said.
I always felt much cleaner after baptisms each Sunday, glad to be rid of all of our sin. However much I hated the thought of being held under water until I was sure I was going to drown, I loved the feeling of being saved even more. The first few hours following my cleansing were always the happiest hours of my week, if only for the peace that purification brought me. We all felt it. Manna from heaven, Mother called it. Euphoria from God.