“I said as many chapters as you can read in fifteen minutes.”
“Oh.” Silence reigned for several seconds before Leo added, “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether it’s ok to cut some of the chapters out in favor of prayer.”
Leo disconnected the call and stared at his hands. Just what could he pray about in a full fifteen minutes of prayer? If fifteen minutes terrified him, what would twenty, forty, or an hour do? How could he keep his mind focused on talking to his Heavenly Father for that long when he’d never spoken to his earthly one? He’d avoided conversations with his mom for most of his childhood.
“Well, Lord. Here I am. Didn’t one of those prophets say that? I’m not a prophet, but well, here I am. Is it ok if I don’t ask You to send me? If it isn’t, then I’m in trouble because I don’t want to be sent anywhere, thank-you-very-much.” Already his mind tried to stray to Allison’s car, to what he’d have for lunch—anything but the topic at hand. After half a dozen mental interruptions, he decided to run with them. He’d take it as a need to pray for that thought even if it was just an excuse for PADD—prayerful attention deficit disorder.
He grinned at that thought and continued with the thought on Allison’s car. “Well, I do ask that I can do it quickly, do my best work, and that her car will last her many years.” His thoughts turned to her silky hair, the way she smiled at him, making him feel like she didn’t see anyone else, and he growled out his next request. “I ask that you’d bless her with her favorite classes, students that don’t give her grief, and—” Her eyes blinked at him in his memory.
“I’d really appreciate it if you’d get her off my mind. I don’t have any business thinking about any woman—having any real friends. It’s not safe, and You know it. I think I’ll just change the topic and thank You for a great boss like Adric. I like his integrity, his generosity to us guys, and oh yeah,” Leo remembered Jael’s pregnancy. “Please keep her safe. I know some women have trouble with their babies, and I’d really appreciate it if You’d help her not to have those problems.” Suddenly that sounded presumptuous. “Or, if something does go wrong, help them have the strength to get through it. You know, all those blood pressure things or the stuff that causes bed rest. But, I’d rather she just wake up and deliver some morning. Don’t some women have a really easy time of it? Can’t she be one?”
Allison’s face continued to taunt him through prayers for the Alliance of Kasimir members, those who were now in prison thanks to his testimony, and onto prayers for young kids all over the country who found themselves lost and at the mercy of groups that give purpose and direction—straight into the pit of hell on earth. He tried to keep before him the faces of the girls who threw themselves at the bikers because they looked “cool.” However, no matter how much he prayed, trying to keep his mind on others who needed prayer, thoughts of Allison overtook every other thought until Leo slammed his fists on the desk in frustration.
“What do You want, Lord? Am I supposed to pray for her and nothing else? Can’t You help my brain learn some self-control? I feel like You’re just throwing me in a bar, shoving a glass in my hand, and telling me not to touch it!” He snickered. “Did I learn that analogy well or what? Tom should be proud.” Frustration overwhelmed him. “Is it really that hard to block her from my mind at least some of the time?”
He waited, silent, hoping for some verse, some song, something to come to his mind to help him, but instead, he remembered the controlled fury in Allison’s voice as she challenged Mrs. Paulson for her condemnation. “Lord, don’t let my mind go there. I can’t risk it, and You know why. Why does this have to be so hard? Why does this have to be about her?”
It failed. No matter what he tried, he found himself thinking and praying for her, until at last, he dug through the desk drawers for the Bible Adric kept there. Flinging it open, he flipped through the pages until he found the one thing he could quickly find in any Bible. “Ok, how about I pray with David since You’re no help right now. No offense, Lord, but well…” He began with verse one of Psalm fifty-one. “‘Be gracious to me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness; According to the greatness of Your compassion blot out my transgressions.’”
He liked men like Paul, David, and Peter. Guys who blew it, royally—literally in David’s case—and were still allowed at His feet. Leo understood what made Joseph’s brothers grow irritated with his apparent self-righteousness and what made Peter swing his sword and cut off Malchus’ ear. As he prayed the penitent prayer of David, Allison hovered in the back of his mind, but her presence seemed fainter with each passing minute.
After what seemed an hour, although just over a dozen or two minutes, he stood, dropped Adric’s Bible back in the drawer, and opened the door to the bays. Suddenly, Allison’s eyes, laughter, confidence, everything slammed into him—waiting there—taunting him all over again. “Get a grip, man,” he muttered.
He punched the remote and let the screaming sounds of “praise” slam into him, drumming out everything else but the beat, the wails, the words that he didn’t always understand. Some Christians berated him for his music choice, but he’d been glad to find something without obscene or destructive lyrics to help him get through hard days. He might need to conquer that need for escape someday, but he couldn’t fight everything at once. Music could come later. When Wade was in charge, the man sent Adric’s Harry Connick Jr. CDs back to their cases, and country twanged its way through the shop. To his disgust, he’d found himself singing along to a few of them. He needed a life.
That thought made him drop his wrench. He sat on his heels, his hands covering his head almost protectively, and sobbed out his thanksgiving. Raw emotions pierced him with pain he didn’t know how to endure. He’d found himself weeping with joy, gratefulness, and awe at the most inconvenient times. Life. He did have life. For the first time in the thing Leo called life, he was truly alive. Still, he had nothing that appeared to be what he once would have defined as “a life.”
“Thank You, again,” he whispered before he grabbed the wrench and went back to work on the car.
Chapter Five
Only in Fairbury could Allison see a late night showing of First Drop and Life’s Blood as a double feature when no one else in the country showed any of the movies anymore. After deliberately avoiding the vampire craze, the movies now held her at their mercy as an alternative to reading the several hundred page, angst-riddled books. At first, the long line surprised her, but when she considered the lack of much else for the teenagers of the town to do, Allison conceded her surprise might be misplaced.
“Macy, I’m going to kill you for going into early labor at this part of your lesson plan,” she muttered to herself.
A familiar face walked toward them. Allison glanced at her watch. Seven o’clock. Had Leo really been working that late? Despite her dismay at the idea he might have stayed to work on her car, she instinctively knew he had done just that. Risking personal embarrassment, she waved at him and prayed he wouldn’t ignore her. Her heart clenched as she saw him glance around to whom she might have signaled. All attempts at subtlety disappeared as she called, “Leo!”
Leo’s posture changed. His shoulders squared a little, his face tensed, and his eyes darted around him as if to make sure no one would attack him for daring to walk in her direction. Allison wanted to scream. He jogged across the street, earning him a reprimand from Brad, and then ducked his way through the line of teenagers behind her.
“Did you need something? I’ve got that engine out. New one is supposed to be here Monday, but I’ve got two brakes and a smog before I can get to it.”
“Oh, there’s no rush. Adric let me use that Focus. Are you just coming back from the shop?”
“Yeah…”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet. I was trying to get out in time to get to the store…” Leo glanced at his watch for effect.
“Don’t you want to come watch the movie with me? I’ll buy you the world�
��s worst slice of pizza, chemical-riddled popcorn, teeth-rotting soda, and a box of any candy you can stomach. I think they’ve even got hot dogs and nachos here. You name it, and I’ll buy it.”
Suspicion flickered in his eyes and reflected in his voice. He tried to look at the marquee, but Allison knew he couldn’t see it from her place in line. “What movie?”
“It’s a double feature…”
“Spit it out.” He laughed. “This is gonna be good, I can tell. Is it that new chick flick where the girl tries to see how many dates she can go on in twenty-four hours?”
“Don’t I wish?”
“Um…”
“First Drop and Life’s Blood.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for one of those blood-sucker types.” Leo’s surprise and thinly veiled disgust irritated several girls around them.
“Oh, trust me, I’m not. Violence, blood, the works—all make me queasy. I’m a total wimp.” Allison shuddered visibly.
“And you’re going because?”
“Macy Felspan. She’s doing Count Dracula in her English lit class, and the notes in her lesson plans say that if she/I aren’t prepared to contrast to the Death Thirst Trilogy, they’ll eat us alive.” She threw a sidelong glance at him and attempted a bit of humor. “I kind of like my skin unpunctured by vampire teeth.”
Leo hesitated, unsure what to do. How could he say no to someone who had been so—so—normal around him? How could he say yes and disappoint her when he had to admit that friendships wouldn’t work for him and anything more would spell disaster?
He watched conflicting emotions travel over her face, and when disappointment settled there, he capitulated. “You really want to torture me with that drivel?”
Ugly hisses followed those words, but Leo ignored them. Laughing, Allison laid one hand on his arm, imploring him to help her. “You want to leave me at the mercy of teenaged girls who are livid that you don’t love their favorite movie?”
“They’ve got pizza?”
“The grossest fake cheese pizza this side of Rockland.”
He glanced at her, confused. “Isn’t there someone else…”
“It’s ok, Leo. You don’t have to do it. I know it’s been a long day for you.”
Normally, he’d have taken her words as hope of an out, but the disappointment in her tone and her eyes was unmistakable. “It’s not that. I—” As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t say what he really thought. How could he tell a beautiful woman that the people she knows and loves are all a bunch of idiots? “All right, but if I laugh at all the wrong places and we get bombed by popcorn, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His forehead furrowed slightly as she bounced. She actually seemed excited. If more Christians were like Adric and Allison—well, and Joe—he’d have a much easier life. Just as he relaxed, she leaned close—almost too close for comfort—and whispered, “Can I ask a rude and personal question?”
“As long as you aren’t offended if I can’t or won’t answer.”
“Fair enough.” He didn’t understand why she kept her voice low until she gathered the courage to ask, “The holes in your ears. How do people get them to do that? Is it punched out or…”
He sagged in relief. He’d expected questions about the case, about his conversion, but he hadn’t expected anything so simple. “Gauges—tunnel jewelry. You start with a regular piercing and slowly stretch it with bigger gauges until you get it how you want it.”
“Why?”
It was a valid question—one he’d heard before. However, this time the question wasn’t tinged with disapproval or morbid fascination. She seemed genuinely curious about why people chose that kind of personal accessory. “Mostly because I wanted to set myself apart from society—prove how tough I was.” He smiled and added, “But also because it looks good with a leather jacket and a bike.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I can see that. I was trying to imagine what I’d look like—”
“You wouldn’t!” He cringed at the thought.
“No, but I was trying to imagine it, and couldn’t. I don’t think it’s my look, but maybe with a black leather skirt and jacket or something…”
The mental picture of Allison in black leather sent his mind spinning with thoughts he knew he shouldn’t allow himself to entertain. “I wouldn’t recommend that as a good style choice for you.”
“I probably wouldn’t look good in it, would I?”
“That wasn’t what I said,” he muttered.
She glanced down at her boots, jeans, and pink top. “I’m more of a jeans gal, I guess.”
Debating openness versus ambiguity, Leo opted for raw honesty. “I think,” he began awkwardly, “the women who should never wear things like that are usually the ones that would look best in them.”
It took her a full minute to grasp his true meaning. “Thank you. That was a lovely compliment.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
The line moved forward. Allison gave him a sidelong glance. “You’ve got four people to change your mind.”
“What?” He glanced around him, looking for what or who might be trying to change his mind.
“Make that three.” She pointed at the people ahead of her. “I’m not trying to get rid of you,” she hastened to add, “but I don’t want you to complain that I forced you into it.”
He pulled out bills he had shoved in his pocket to pay for his ticket, but she shook her head. “Are you trying to insult me? I wheedled you into doing me a huge favor, don’t be difficult about it.”
“I can afford—”
“Who said you couldn’t? If you asked me to see it with you, would you paying for it indicate that you thought I couldn’t afford it?”
Leo grinned. “I like how you think.”
“Good. You should. Let’s go get you some dinner.”
“Aren’t you hungry?” Allison’s laughter sent his mind, once again, in distinct directions—none of them safe.
“I ate before I came. I figured if I get sick, I don’t want it on an empty stomach.”
Still confused about her choice of movie, he asked once more, “If you’re going to get sick, why are you here again?”
“I’m not into the revival of blood-letting.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” Leo muttered as he stepped through the doors and handed his ticket to a curious teen. “I’m going to get my dinner. Want anything?”
“Sprite and some napkins.”
Leo shook his head and muttered things about crazy women that sent her into a near fit of giggles. Those giggles changed the tone of his evening. What had felt like the onset of a night of misery might turn out to be fun. What could be more stimulating than vampire hunks, teachers who hate Dracula, and a barf bag? Leo Hasaert—living the life now.
The theater, almost stuffed with teenagers and nearly middle-aged women trying to escape into the danger-riddled world of the vampires of Sandy, Oregon amazed him. How so many females could be engrossed in something so, well, gross, was beyond Leo’s and, it seemed, Allison’s comprehension. The few men in the group had obviously come on a brownie point mission. The audience erupted in a collective applause over the appearance of their blood-sucking hero.
Leo couldn’t stand it anymore. Leaning closer to Allison, he whispered, “What is the appeal?”
“Is there any?” Allison’s disgust shot back at him faster than expected.
“No, seriously. I really don’t understand. He looks—pained.”
“Maybe his tightie whities shrunk?”
They snickered at just the wrong time, earning them a hiss from their seatmates. The next scene prompted Leo to try another dig. “Is that supposed to make us think he’s heavenly?” More gaiety followed until the tension and danger in the movie increased. Leo sensed Allison’s change of mood before he noticed her clenched hands. Suddenly, she flung her hands over her face and shrank from the screen.
“You ok?”
“No.”
Her whisper sounded more like a whimper. He watched her start to tremble, leaned close, and murmured, “Do you want to go?”
She startled him, grabbing his jacket and holding on as if to an anchor. “Why is it so cold in here?”
Relieved, he shrugged out of his leather jacket. At least her shivers had been prompted by a cool theater rather than raw fear. As he settled the jacket around her shoulders, he whispered, “Put your arms in. It’ll be warmer.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” A collective “shh” ignited a fresh round of giggles from Allison.
Without his jacket, Leo realized that the thermostat had been turned down to create an unreasonably cool room. He’d be fine, but it seemed unnecessary to create such a false atmosphere when the movie managed to do a fine job of that on its own. When Allison shivered again, Leo clenched the arms of his seat, fighting the urge to drag her from the theater. The car on the screen tore through streets just in time to save the heroine from certain death. Leo watched, as Allison’s face grew more panicked with each passing second.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” This time he dropped his voice low enough that only Allison could hear.
She leaned closer as if to answer, and then dropped her head on his arm. “Not really.”
All attempts to keep his distance failed. Leo moved her gently out of the way, smiled at the embarrassed look she gave him, flipped up the arm that separated their seats, and made a silent offer for her to move closer. He hadn’t made himself that vulnerable with anyone in years, and his mind whirled with confusing thoughts when she sighed happily and curled up against him, her eyes barely taking in the scene on the screen.
“I think this is a waste of time,” she whispered.
He ignored the temptation to agree that he’d never be able to concentrate on the farce playing out before him with her so near, and asked, “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m missing most of this. They’re going to wonder if I even watched it.”
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