“Yes? What do you need?” His tone was more brusque than he’d intended, but his fast-beating heart made breathing difficult.
She crossed her arms, too, and fixed him with a stern glare. “Well, if you really want to know, I need you to stop treating me like I’ve got leprosy. Truly, is it too much to ask for you to be civil?”
Ben scowled. “I am civil.”
She huffed. “Then you and I are using different dictionaries. Civil means—”
“I know what civil means!”
“—polite.” She raised her voice, tipping forward and lifting her chin defiantly. “It means being polite, and you were not polite in there. Not to me, and not to Elliott.” Releasing a huge sigh, she shook her head, her tousled curls teasing her shoulders. “Ben, I’m sorry if my being here upsets you, but—”
“I’m not upset that you’re here,” he said, dropping his cross-armed pose and moving toward the bench.
She followed, hovering just behind his elbow. “Then why the gruff reply to Elliott’s question? Would it have really hurt you to tell me about the course?”
He spun around again. “Do you want to know about the course? Okay, I’ll tell you. They have a system of ropes and pulleys attached to tree branches, and—”
“Ben!” She clutched her temples, those autumn-colored waves covering her fingers.
Once more, his hands itched to capture the curls. He plunked his hindquarters on the bench and curled his fingers around the wooden edge of the seat. “What?”
Standing in front of him, she sighed again. Lowering her hands, she wove her fingers together and pressed her hands against her stomach. “The course isn’t important.” Her tone turned soft, imploring. “What’s important is how we’re going to get through three days together here if you are so uncomfortable with it.”
Uncomfortable is an understatement, Ben thought wryly. The pressure in his chest became unbearable as he forced himself to breathe evenly. “Listen, Angela, it’s just …” He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, battling with himself. Honesty was needed here, but he didn’t want to crush her. Lord, please help me out here.
“It’s just what?” She took a step closer, her intriguing light-colored eyes begging him to explain.
Finally he blurted out, “Every time I look at you, I see you in a hospital bed, tubes sticking out everywhere, just like Kent after his overdose.”
Her eyes widened and she jerked, as if his words had impaled her. “Ben, I told you, I don’t use drugs anymore. That isn’t going to happen to me.”
“But I can’t be sure!” He drew his hand down his face. “Do you know how many times I heard Kent say ‘I won’t do it anymore, Benny, I promise’ Then days later, or weeks later, or months later I’d get a call—his mother, begging for help because Kent was at it again. I couldn’t trust Kent when he said he’d stay clean, and I can’t trust you!”
Tears welled in Angela’s eyes, making the darker rim of her irises brighten.
Ben turned away, the sight of those tears creating a stab of pain in his heart. He didn’t want to hurt her, yet he had to be honest. His gaze aimed across the campground to the grove of trees at the edge of the property, he finished, “Watching my cousin battle his addiction was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. And then, that last time, when he nearly died …” He closed his eyes for a moment, grimacing with the remembered pain. “And now, seeing him in a wheelchair, knowing he will never be the same because of the drugs …”
“But, Ben.” She touched his shoulder, her fingertips quivering. “I’ve told you and told you. I’m finished with drugs. I’ll never use them again. I promise you that. Why can’t you believe me?”
He jerked away from her touch, his shoulder tingling where her fingers had brushed. “I can’t believe you because I’ve seen the stranglehold of drugs! Kent was a strong man, but he couldn’t resist them. You—you’re …” To his frustration, words failed. He leaped to his feet, facing her. “I can’t do it again, Angela. I won’t do it again. I will not watch someone else I love fight a losing battle against drug addiction.” Pointing at her, he grated, “So I’m going to keep my distance, and you’ve got to help. Stay away from me, Angela. Please, just … stay away.”
The tears broke free of their perch on her thick lashes and trailed down her cheeks. Ben released a muffled moan and spun from the evidence of her distress. A distress he’d caused. He brushed past her and charged to his dorm room. Shutting himself in the quiet room, he sank onto the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands.
Lord, I didn’t want to hurt her. Forgive me for hurting her, but I can’t go through it again. I wish I’d never come here.
sixteen
Angela watched Ben storm across the grass toward the dormitories. Tears rained down her cheeks, but she made no sound. Her chest ached with the effort of containing her misery, yet she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reducing her to sobs.
He loved her. She’d heard him say he couldn’t watch someone else he loved fight a losing battle against drug addiction. He loved her, but he didn’t trust her. She couldn’t understand love like that. Shouldn’t love and trust be synonymous?
As she stood beside the bench, a flutter of activity captured her attention. People spilled out of the cafeteria, moving en masse toward the worship hall. She should go, too, but her feet remained stubbornly still. Two people separated themselves from the throng and jogged across the grass toward her. Stephanie and Robyn.
Turning her back, Angela wiped away her tears with trembling fingers. Just as she turned around again, the pair came to a halt a couple of feet away from her. Their smiles faded when they looked into her face.
“Hey.” Stephanie stepped forward and touched Angela’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
Robyn moved closer to put her arm around Angela. “I saw you charge out of the cafeteria after Ben. Is everything okay?”
Angela shook her head. “No. Everything is most definitely not okay. I need to go back to Petersburg. Is there any way I can get a taxi to come out here or something?”
Robyn and Stephanie exchanged looks. Stephanie spoke. “Angela, a taxi all the way back to Petersburg would cost you an arm and a leg. Come here.” She guided Angela to the bench and gently pushed her onto the seat. She and Robyn squeezed in on either side of her. “Now tell us what’s going on. Maybe we can help.”
Angela looked from woman to woman. Even in the muted light from electric lamps at the top of poles, she could see the genuine concern on their faces. She had prayed for friends. Had God sent Stephanie and Robyn to fill that need? With a deep sigh, she sent up a silent prayer for their understanding then forged ahead.
“The problem is, I did something, several months ago, before I became a Christian. Ben knows about it, and it’s …” She swallowed. “It’s causing big problems.”
Robyn put her hand on Angela’s knee. “Do you mind telling us what you did?”
“I used drugs.” She blurted the words out then searched their faces for their reactions. Neither pulled away or showed shocked disapproval. Relief flooded her, and she gained the courage to tell everything. She left out no details then finished with, “I’m a Christian now, and I’ve promised God I’ll never use drugs again. But Ben doesn’t believe me. He—he said he loves me.” She glanced at Stephanie, fearful of hurting the other woman’s feelings. “But he doesn’t trust me. Not at all. And he asked me to stay away from him. That’s why I’ve got to go back to Petersburg. I saw his name tag. He has a blue cross, too. I won’t be able to stay away from him.”
The trio sat in silence for several minutes. A frog croaked somewhere in the distance, and the breeze rustled the drying leaves overhead. From the sanctuary, a piano began to play, and voices answered the accompaniment. The gentle sounds of the evening wrapped around Angela, enveloping her in peace. She had shared her deepest hurt, her worst sins, and these two women hadn’t gotten up to walk away. They remained, their presence a breath of Jesus to
Angela’s aching heart.
Finally Stephanie spoke. “I don’t know how well Robyn knows Ben, but he and I were on a committee together last year at church. My impression of him is that he’s very devoted to his faith.” Putting her arm around Angela’s shoulder, she offered a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry he hurt you. I would imagine he’s hurting, too, and his pain is making him behave in ways not typical.”
Angela wanted to believe that, but his withdrawal had been so complete after her confession of drug abuse. She sighed. “So what do I do? Do I stay or do I go?”
“Well, you don’t go!” Robyn shifted slightly on the bench, her knees banging into Angela’s. “We’ve just barely gotten acquainted! And I’d like to get to know you better.”
“You would? Even after I told you—”
“What’s past is past,” Robyn said, her voice firm. “No one’s perfect, Angela. We’ve all made mistakes, and in God’s eyes, sin is sin. There aren’t various levels, with one sin being worse than another. Sin is just … wrong. And my judging you for something you did before you became saved would be just as wrong as you continuing to use drugs now that your body is a temple for the Holy Spirit.”
Gratitude welled up in Angela’s heart and spilled over, bringing a fresh rush of tears. “Then you’ll still be my friends?”
“Of course we will!” Robyn and Stephanie chorused together then giggled.
“Still, maybe it would be better if I left. Ben—” Angela started.
“Ben has to answer for Ben,” Robyn inserted.
“I agree,” Stephanie added. “Ben wanting to keep his distance is Ben’s problem, not yours. And to be honest, his problem isn’t going to be solved by you leaving. That will just make it easier for him not to face it. No, I think you should stay, enjoy the weekend, and let Ben solve this for himself. If he isn’t comfortable around you, then he can make the decision to leave.”
Angela looked back and forth, her heart swelling. God had answered her prayer already. True friends! Only true friends would be this supportive. Tears distorted her vision, but she blinked, sending them away. Slapping her own knees, she said, “All right then. I won’t run away. But …” She bit down on her lower lip. “Could we pray about it? Because it’s going to be very tough for me to face him in these group activities with this issue between us.”
“Of course.” Stephanie took one of Angela’s hands then stretched the other hand toward Robyn. Robyn took Angela’s free hand, completing the circle. The three lowered their heads and asked God to work His miracle in restoring peace for both Ben and Angela.
“You’ll be okay, Angela.” Bruce, the camp activities’ director, shielded his eyes with his broad palm as he peered upward at Angela. “The rigging is secure, and I’m acting as anchor. I outweigh you by at least … oh, ten pounds.”
Angela giggled from the square wooden platform in the tree branches a good twenty feet from the ground. Stocky Bruce outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, but she appreciated his humor. Her heart pounded so hard, she was certain it would burst from her chest.
“And of course we’ve got muscleman Ben holding the other rope, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Angela glanced from Bruce to Ben. Ben didn’t look at her, but she saw the whiteness of his knuckles as he gripped the taut rope. No matter his feelings toward her, he wouldn’t let her fall. She knew that.
“So … are you ready?”
Angela looked ahead to the next tree. The ropes course led through six trees, weaving between branches, always well above the ground. She patted the sturdy straps of the rappelling rigging and drew in a breath of fortification. “I’m ready!”
“All right then … let go!”
Squeezing her eyes tight, Angela released the branch and coiled her fists around the thick shoulder straps of the rappelling gear. She felt herself whiz through the air, and an involuntary shriek left her lips.
“Open your eyes!” a female voice from the ground encouraged.
Angela peeked one eye open in time to see the rush of branches coming at her. She released another yelp as her feet connected with the second platform. Grabbing hold of a branch, she panted, blood rushing to her head.
The group on the ground applauded. “Woohoo, Angela! One down!”
Angela laughed and made a shaky bow from the platform. Those with blue crosses on their name tags laughed at her theatrics.
“See? Nothing to it!” Bruce hollered. “Ready to go again?”
Angela held her breath and gave a nod. She forced her eyes to remain open this time, and the exhilaration of the ride expressed itself in a burst of high-pitched laughter. Her feet on the third platform, she exulted, “Oh, this is fun!”
Laughter rose from the group. She glanced at Ben. A grin twitched his cheeks. Her own smile grew with the small signal of his pleasure.
“Then let’s keep going,” Bruce called. “No stops at platform four, just straight on to five, okay?”
“Okay!”
Angela finished the course, her heart racing, but not from fear. Bruce had explained the purpose of the ropes course was to practice letting go and letting God keep a person secure in an insecure world. Sailing through the air, depending on Bruce and Ben to keep her safe from falling, Angela experienced in a tangible way the upholding hand of God. I trust You, Father, to never let me fall back into the habit of drug use ever again, her heart promised as she allowed Ben and Bruce to lower her to the ground.
The moment her feet touched the leaf-scattered grass, the blue-cross group rushed forward, patting her back and offering congratulations. She sent smiles through the group, but as she turned, she caught a glimpse of Ben standing well back, his face impassive.
Her heart lurched, her elation faltering. But then she squared her shoulders and made another silent promise. I won’t let Ben’s attitude defeat me, Lord. You are all I need for happiness. Thank You for never letting me down.
Ben looked across the bonfire to Angela, who sat between Stephanie and Elliott. The man had been like a leech during every free period today. But, he acknowledged, Angela hadn’t given him any extra attention. Her flirtatiousness seemed to have been put on hold for the weekend.
Now she held a stick with marshmallows attached over the flame, turning it with a look of concentration on her face. The firelight danced on her tousled curls, bringing out highlights of gold and red. The shadows emphasized the delicate curve of her jaw and the height of her cheekbones. In the flare of the fire, her eyes took on a new luminance, as if lit from within. His heart lurched. Her beauty was like a knife through his chest.
He stifled a groan. This day had been so difficult. Their common symbol put them in nearly every activity together, making separation impossible. Despite his efforts to focus elsewhere, time and again his gaze had followed her. Images from the day replayed like slides on a private movie screen: Angela listening with rapt attention to the speaker, her head bent in silent prayer during quiet time, her elation as she ended the ropes course. And now, her sweet face tipped toward Elliott while fire glow lit her features.
Turning away, he tried to involve himself in conversation with the people sitting nearby, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to contribute. With a sigh, he looked back across the flames, his eyes unconsciously seeking the cause of his conflict.
But she wasn’t there.
He gave a startled jerk, sitting up straight and searching the area. The only light came from the massive bonfire, so he nearly missed the shadowy figure slipping between trees at the edge of the clearing. Had it not been for the flash of fire in her spiraling curls, he might not have recognized the figure as Angela.
Planting his palms against the log that served as his seat, he nearly lunged to his feet. But Bruce stepped in front of Ben, stopping his movement.
“Hey, gang, anyone have a suggestion?” Bruce patted the guitar that hung around his neck. “Let’s sing some praise songs, give God the glory for providing such a beautiful fall evening.”<
br />
Song suggestions were thrown out, and Bruce strummed, accompanying the voices. Ben sang along, but his participation was halfhearted at best. His gaze remained on the spot where he’d seen Angela disappear. Half an hour slipped by, and still she hadn’t returned. Worry pressed at him. Could she have gotten lost? The campground was fairly large, and in the dark, in the trees, a person could get disoriented.
Leaning to the person seated next to him, he asked, “Hey? Do you know if anyone has a flashlight out here?”
The man nodded. “Yeah. Bruce’s wife, Lorraine, brought a few of them in case people needed to get back to the dorms.”
“Thanks.” Ben rose and made his way to the back of the gathered campers to Lorraine. She willingly reached into a burlap bag and withdrew a flashlight at Ben’s request. After thanking her, he circled around the group, moving cautiously over the shadowed ground.
He waited until he was in the trees before turning on the flashlight. The beam shot ahead no more than five or six feet, but it was enough to guide his progress. Watching the play of light on tree trunks and on the uneven, leaf-covered ground, Ben thought of the Bible verse in Psalms about God’s Word being a lamp for man’s feet and a light for man’s path. The light only uncovered a path a few feet ahead—far enough to take three or four steps—but limited the vision of the entire path. He had to trust that the beam would continue shining as he made his progress, giving him enough light to continue.
God, it’s like that in life, too, isn’t it? You don’t allow us to see the whole pathway, but You provide the illumination needed to make today’s progress. His throat convulsed. I don’t know what lies ahead for Angela and me, but I want to trust that You have good things in store at the end of the road. Please let Your light keep shining … for both of us.
A voice startled him, bringing his prayer to a close. He froze, straining to listen. At first he couldn’t make out words, only tones; but then the voice raised, and he recognized not only the speech but also the speaker.
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