by Amy C. Blake
Mr. Dominic sighed. “You may well have.” He gave Levi’s forearm a squeeze. “But at this point, I don’t know how you can make restitution.” His eyes grew distant. “We’ll have to see how it all plays out. I know the Great Sovereign has a plan in all things.”
44
The Olympics and the Play
The next afternoon, Levi climbed into the canoe with Sara. From the next craft over, Trevor said, “Hey, Morgan, I’m glad your mom let you stick around for the Olympics. You and me are gonna whup Suzanne and Jacqueline.”
Morgan offered Trevor a sickly smile but didn’t say anything. According to Sara, she hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words since Regin brought her up to the kitchen. Levi hadn’t even tried to talk to her yet.
“Come on, Levi,” Sara said from behind him. “It’s time to focus on the race.”
“Yeah, okay.” He gripped the paddles the best he could with his bandaged hands. Dr. Baldwin had released him to participate in the canoeing event, but fencing and archery were out of the question. His shredded palms simply couldn’t handle those. He didn’t mind. His heart just wasn’t in the Olympics this year.
He had cheered plenty for Trevor, though, who won the fencing silver. Hunter won the gold, but he didn’t strut about it, probably because of Morgan’s situation. Hunter didn’t even bother mocking Levi for having to drop the events. Had Morgan told him about her experiences in the cellar? Did he know about Levi’s battle with Deceptor? Did Sara tell him?
Levi glanced back at Sara, who adjusted her lifejacket and offered him an encouraging smile. He bent his lips a little in return. He didn’t know what to think.
When the starting whistle sounded, he made a half-hearted effort to match Sara’s stroke pattern. But as the race wore on and they got farther and farther behind, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Of course they lost. Sara didn’t say a word of blame, only climbed quietly from the canoe as the crowd cheered for Suzanne and Jacqueline, who won the match.
As Levi passed Mr. Sylvester on the way to the castle, the elf patted his shoulder, his expression sympathetic. Levi tried not to flinch at his touch because Mr. Dominic had reassured him the Sylvesters were trustworthy. He’d said Mr. Sylvester’s loyalty was part of why Deceptor impersonated him. But Levi couldn’t control a shiver, and Mr. Sylvester smiled sadly, as if he knew what Levi was thinking.
Levi tried to muster sympathy for the elf. In spite of Mr. Dominic’s unquestioning trust, he had a lot stacked against him—his daughter’s betrayal, his wife’s withdrawal, and now Deceptor’s impersonation, which made the dragons leery of him. But Levi had been sunk in a sludge of dull melancholy since Deceptor in the guise of Morgan dropped from the drawbridge, and he couldn’t pull himself out of it.
His dad would say he was troubled in his spirit. He’d let so many people down.
A slew of oversized, hyperactive butterflies—or were they wasps?—fought a full-fledged war in the pit of Levi’s stomach, yanking him out of the doldrums. The hour he’d dreaded all summer had come: time for the play. At least his family wouldn’t see him acting like an idiot in a wedding dress. He’d gotten a note at breakfast that his mom and siblings couldn’t come because Abby’s final choral performance had been postponed until that evening. Then he’d gotten another message that his dad’s car had died along the way, but that he hoped to have it fixed in time to meet Levi and Trevor when the ferry arrived at the mainland.
Sara pulled him aside before he entered the wings. “I wanted to tell you I loaned Lizzie my mom’s necklace.”
Levi frowned. He knew which necklace Sara meant, the one they’d found in the Trojan horse the year before when she’d been kidnapped. “But why?”
“Because Freyja’s necklace, Brisingamen, should be special and beautiful, and my mom’s necklace is both.” She offered him an impish grin. “Besides, I thought it might give you enough courage to dress as the bride, Freyja, knowing you’ll be wearing my necklace.”
He gave her a sideways look, trying to decide how much she was making fun of him. “Thanks, I think.”
Her eyes softened. “Really, Levi, I hoped it might help you not feel so alone up on stage. It’s just a play after all. Not life or death or anything.”
Levi’s mind shifted again to last year’s play, the one that had almost been the death of Sara. He looked at the stage set up in the safety of the castle courtyard and again said, “Thanks,” this time without any sarcasm underlying.
She nodded and started away.
He touched her arm. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyebrows lowered as her smile faded. “For what?”
“For not telling you about Pressie and the mormo. You helped me a lot with that whole water thing, and I . . . well, I should’ve trusted you with the other stuff.” Looking down, he ran the toe of one shoe through the lush grass. “I’m also sorry for talking you into giving me your dad’s key.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And for losing it.”
When she didn’t answer, he glanced up. She blinked away tears and offered a gentle smile. Then she walked off to sit with the other campers and their families—the ones who came over on the morning’s ferry to watch the play and then take their kids home. Morgan’s mom sat alone in the far corner twisting her hands, clearly impatient to take her daughter and leave.
Levi sighed and entered the wings, the old garden hammer weighing on him in a different way than Mjolnir had. Sure he could walk without swaying like a bowlegged horse, and hefting the thing was so simple he could easily pretend to be mighty Thor instead of wimpy Levi, but still . . . He shouldn’t have lost the hammer.
When he’d apologized to Mr. Austin, the dwarf had said, “It’s actually a relief to me and the missus. Being responsible for that key has set us on edge these past weeks.” Maybe Mr. Austin was just trying to make Levi feel better, but if what he said was true, it explained why the normally sweet Mrs. Austin had been unusually testy this summer.
Now Levi adjusted the strap at his waist, thankful he didn’t have to start the play in his dress, and watched the literature teacher in the opposite wings. Mr. Austin was in a frenzy of activity with the performance starting in moments, but the sparkle wasn’t in his eyes like it had been before Levi lost Mjolnir. Without the famed hammer/key, the play wouldn’t be quite as special in the playwright’s eyes.
Levi swallowed his guilt. He’d try to make it up to Mr. Austin by manning up and being the best Thor in a goofy old wedding dress that he could possibly be.
45
Forgiven
From his place at the ferry railing, Levi nudged Trevor and jerked his chin toward Braden, who ran a finger up and down the gold chain at his neck and peered into the engine room with a calculating look on his face. “Think he rigged something?”
Trevor grunted. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“You really believe that?”
“Guess I’d better go keep an eye on him.” Trevor released a sigh so gusty it rivaled the wind rippling the lake. “Just call me Spy Guy.”
Levi snorted. “Where’s your armor, Spy Guy?”
Trevor elbowed him in the ribs and smirked when Levi let out a squeak of pain. Before Levi could retaliate, he scurried across the deck toward Braden.
Levi hugged his sore ribcage and glanced around at the other kids. On the opposite side of the ferry, Morgan propped her elbows against the railing, her gaze fixed on the mainland, growing swiftly nearer. He crossed to stand beside her.
“Looks like we’re almost there,” he said, then gave himself a mental kick. Duh! Of course they were almost there. And there was exactly where Morgan didn’t want to be.
Without taking her eyes from the shoreline, she said, “Why’d you come after me?”
“What do you mean?” Levi shot a glance across the deck to where Morgan’s mom stood, arms folded across her chest, watching her daughter’s every move.
“I mean, why’d you go below the castle to rescue me?” Her pale blue gaze locked on his. “You and
your friends don’t even like me.”
“That’s not true.” He flushed at her lifted eyebrow. “At least not anymore.” He sighed. “It’s just we were friends from last year, and a new person changes things, you know? That’s not an excuse; it’s just the truth.”
“Then why?”
“Why did I go down after you?” His pitch rose slightly. “Because I had to. I couldn’t very well leave you down there alone. You could’ve died.” So could he, for that matter. What was her problem? Why not say Thanks for going after me, Levi. You’re my hero, Levi?
Morgan returned her stare to the looming dock. “You believe in God and all that stuff from chapel, right?” She drew in a breath. “I mean, your dad’s a preacher, kinda like Mr. Dominic, so you have to.”
Levi frowned. “I don’t have to believe because my dad’s a preacher. I believe because God saved me.”
“Like Jesus dying on the cross and rising from the dead?” She glared at him. “All to rescue us from hell?”
He nodded, baffled by her obvious anger.
“Isn’t hell worse than the cellar?”
Levi glanced down at the bandages on his palms then back up at her. “Yeah, it is.”
“You rescue me from the cellar but don’t care enough to make sure I’m rescued from hell?”
He blinked. He’d never thought of it that way before. He hadn’t told Morgan about Jesus. Sure, she’d heard it in chapel, but it wasn’t the same as hearing from a friend. No wonder she was upset. “You’re right, Morgan,” he finally said. “I’m sorry. Jesus is the only way not to spend eternity in a place much worse than the cellar.”
She pressed her lips together.
“So what do you think?”
“Can Jesus save me from that?” Morgan cocked her head toward her mom.
“Oh.” He swallowed hard. “He can, but he doesn’t always . . . If he’s in your life, though, it’s a lot easier to deal with . . . stuff.”
A cynical look crossed her features, making him sad. “Yeah.”
Levi opened his backpack, fished out a notebook, and tore off a scrap of paper. “If you want to talk or need something or whatever, you could call or text . . . or whatever.” He scribbled his contact information on the page and offered it to her.
She looked at him a moment before taking it. Then she smiled, and a flash of the happy Morgan from earlier that summer appeared. “I’ll think about it.”
Levi’s dad stood waving beside his old green Ford. Levi waved back, hoisted his luggage, and hurried down the ramp. Dad jogged over and scooped him into a bear hug. “I missed you, son.”
Levi gritted his teeth against the tears that stung his nose and throat.
“Hey, Mr. Prince,” Trevor called, jogging up behind Levi.
His dad pulled back with a grin. “Trevor! Good to see you.” He reached out one arm and scooped the bigger boy into the hug with them.
Dad released them both, still grinning, and snagged their sleeping bags. “Ready to hit the road?”
“Yeah,” both boys said. They followed him to the trunk to stow their things.
“You know,” Trevor said after Dad moved toward the driver’s door, “it’s a long drive.” He shot Levi a meaningful look. “Good time to talk.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll take the backseat.” Trevor let out a huge yawn as he opened the rear door and climbed inside. “I could use a nap.”
Levi went to the passenger door. Before opening it, he peered around for one last look at his friends. Sara was hanging out in front of a small convenience store, pretending to wait for her folks to arrive. He knew she’d take the ferry back to the island as soon as the others left. Beside Lizzie’s mom’s convertible, Monica and Lizzie were clinging to each other in a teary goodbye hug—would wonders never cease? Steve waved at Levi from the back of a minivan, and Tommy entered a nearby café with his family, an Asian-American couple with two little boys.
Levi sighed. He’d see them next summer. If his parents let him come back. His heart squeezed. Maybe he should wait a little longer to spill his guts.
But then he’d have to spend another wretched year like the last one.
He opened the car door, but before he got in, Morgan caught his eye. She was dragging her feet toward a rusty blue pickup where her mom stood beside a short barrel-chested man with black spiky hair and a barbed-wire tattoo around his throat. The man’s harsh expression made Levi pity the poor girl more than ever.
“Hey, Morgan,” he called. When she looked his way, he held his hand to his ear like a telephone. “Don’t forget.”
For the barest instant, her sad eyes hardened to silver-gray ice. A shiver started at the base of Levi’s spine and snaked its way upward. Before it reached his neck, the moment was gone as Morgan smiled, her eyes their usual soft blue. She nodded once and resumed her trudge toward her mom and new stepdad.
Levi dismissed the freaky incident. Must’ve been a trick of the light.
He let his gaze shift to Hunter, who stood beside a silver luxury car beyond where Morgan’s mom climbed into the truck with her new man. He could tell Hunter and Morgan were looking at each other, though Levi couldn’t see her face. Hunter lifted his hand, raised both brows, and gave a single jerk of his chin toward the water. Morgan’s head bobbed, then she climbed in beside her momma. The truck tires squealed as her stepdad hit the gas before she even closed the door. Hunter’s steely glare latched onto Levi’s as he swept into the luxury car and slammed the door.
Those two . . . cousins.
With an even deeper sigh, Levi climbed into the front seat beside his dad.
Sprawled across the backseat, Trevor guffawed, obviously in the middle of telling Dad about Levi’s performance in the play that morning. “Yeah, he looked good in that skirt, too, lemme tell you. You should’ve seen those hairy legs!”
Dad grinned at Trevor in the rearview mirror. “I’m sure his little brothers would’ve loved every minute of it.” After a brief chuckle, he turned serious eyes on Levi. “I wish I could’ve been there, son. I’m sorry. The alternator went out, and I was just thankful to find a garage that could work me in.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t worth watching.”
Another snort erupted from the backseat.
Levi tossed Trevor a mock-menacing glare. Then he said quietly, “Dad, I’ve got some stuff to tell you.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“First of all, I need to apologize for acting like a creep before I left for camp.” Heat inched up his neck. “And for pretty much all of last year.”
Dad studied him through gentle eyes. “Forgiven.”
A year’s worth of guilt released its shackles from Levi’s heart. “Thanks.”
Dad ruffled his hair. “And second?”
“Second . . .” He raked his bottom teeth across his upper lip. “Well, second could take a while.”
Dad started the engine. “It’s a long drive. We have plenty of time to chat.”
Levi rolled down the window, waved at Sara, and watched her until they’d driven out of view. Now that the time had come, doubts again crept in. He’d kept secrets from his parents for so long, what if he couldn’t let go of them? What if Dad thought he was crazy?
What if he refused to let Levi return to camp next summer?
A breeze as soft as his mom’s kiss touched his brow. The truth, Levi. That’s the only thing that will set you free. He filled his lungs with the sweet-scented air and faced his dad. “It’s to do with that summer camp Papa Levi used to tell you stories about . . .”
About the Author
Author Amy C. Blake has appeared in many publications, both Christian-based and secular. With a Masters in English from Mississippi College, her work has consistently won praise and awards throughout her writing career, which has included everything from contributing articles to the publication of her full-length novels Whitewashed and Colorblind. Amy is a pastor’s wife and homeschooling mother of four who resides in beautiful
Ohio.