by Krista McGee
“Are you working the next shift?” Kara smiled at the woman.
“Not exactly.” The woman smiled back, revealing yellowed teeth. Upon closer inspection, Kara noted that the woman’s T-shirt was worn and her jeans were a size too big and about a decade out of date. “I was wondering if I could get some food.” The woman’s eyes watered, and Kara looked at Addy.
“I’m sorry.” The woman hung her head. “I don’t want to bother you. It’s just that I didn’t know where to go. And I’m so hungry. A friend told me I could come here.” The woman began crying, and Kara held her breath.
Addy walked over to the woman and touched her shoulder. “Of course you can get some food. But let’s go into the cafeteria. They’re between lunch and dinner, but I’m sure we can find something good for you there.”
“I’m Jalina.” The woman held her hand out to Addy. “Thank you.”
“My name is Addy.” She grasped Jalina’s hand and held it in both of hers. “I’m happy to be able to help.”
Addy guided Jalina to the cafeteria, where she was able to get her a hot meal. Addy and Kara sat with Jalina and watched as she ate her meal quickly, barely stopping to take a drink.
“Are you from Tampa, Jalina?” Addy asked.
Jalina looked up from her plate. “No. I’m kind of from all over, you know? I was born in Pensacola, moved all around the panhandle. I haven’t always been . . .” She paused. “I had a home and a family.”
“What happened?” Addy leaned in, her voice kind.
“Drugs.” The woman shrugged. “I started when I was fourteen. My parents told me I couldn’t come home if I didn’t get clean.” Jalina fought tears. “So I didn’t go home. Spent ten years doing everything I could to make money so I could buy more drugs. Made one stupid choice after another.”
“And your family?” Kara asked, finally speaking.
Tears fell down Jalina’s face. She couldn’t speak.
“You haven’t spoken to them?” Addy’s voice was soft.
Jalina shook her head, wiping her tears with a napkin.
“Would you like to?” Addy asked.
“No, I can’t,” Jalina said. “You don’t understand. When I left, they told me I can’t ever come back.”
Addy scooted her chair closer to Jalina. “Have you ever read any of the Bible?”
“Not really,” Jalina said.
“Jesus once told a story about a young man who asked for his inheritance early, then went out and spent it on all kinds of things. Worthless things. He wasted all the money his parents gave him.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Jalina said. “That’s me, right? I know.”
Kara looked at Addy. What is she doing? Trying to make the poor girl feel worse?
“This guy got so low he was eating food the farmer threw out to the pigs.”
Jalina looked at the food on her plate and all three girls laughed.
“So what happened? Did the guy die out there with the pigs?”
“No.” Addy smiled at Jalina. “He finally got up the courage to go home.”
Jalina pushed her empty plate toward the center of the table. “I bet he got told what’s what.”
“Actually,” Addy said, “his father had been waiting for him every day, hoping he’d come home.”
“What?”
“Yes.” Addy’s smile was brighter. “He was prepared to beg for his father’s forgiveness. The man was going to ask his father if he could be a family servant. But when he got to his house, his father hugged him and called to the others to prepare a feast to celebrate his coming home.”
Jalina bit her lip. “That’s a true story?”
“It’s a parable that Jesus told.”
“A parable?”
“It’s a story that teaches a lesson,” Addy said.
“But what if I don’t have a dad like that?”
“You do.” Addy gazed deep into Jalina’s eyes.
“You mean God?”
“That was the point of that story, Jalina. To teach us that God is waiting for his children, and he will welcome us no matter what we’ve done.”
Jalina reached for a napkin. “God can’t love me. I’ve done too many terrible things.”
“God doesn’t love you because you are lovable,” Addy said. “He loves you because he is love.”
“Really?” Jalina’s eyes watered. “God really loves me? ”
“He does. And he’s waiting for you.”
Ellen walked over. “Well, ladies, how’s the meal? ”
“It’s not pig slop,” Jalina said.
Kara laughed, a deep belly laugh. Jalina and Addy joined her and Ellen looked on, her face blank.
“Sorry.” Kara took a deep breath. “No offense. Addy was just telling Jalina a story about a guy who ate pig slop.”
“The prodigal son?” Ellen asked.
“Yes.” Addy nodded.
“I love that story,” Ellen said. “I was just like him.”
Kara saw Jalina look at Ellen, taking in her white smile and shiny black hair. “You?”
“I sure was.” Ellen sat down. “I’d be happy to tell you about it.”
Kara knew that was their signal to leave. She said goodbye to Jalina, hugging her lightly, then looked back as she left the cafeteria. The young woman was listening to Ellen, nodding and crying as they walked out to Addy’s car.
“I have never seen you be so quiet.” Addy buckled her seat belt and looked at Kara.
“I didn’t know what to say. But you were like a little preacher girl. That missionary DNA keeps on coming up, doesn’t it?”
Addy laughed. “It isn’t a genetic disease.”
“No, it was good.” Kara stared out the window. “You gave that woman hope.”
“God gave her hope. But he allowed me to be part of it. That was great.”
“That was pretty great.” Kara looked at Addy. “And the prodigal son. I’ve heard people talk about that story, but I didn’t know it was about God.”
Addy didn’t speak.
“The Bible really says God loves people like that?”
“He really does love people like that,” Addy said. “All people. Drug addicts. Homeless people. Even people who don’t believe in him.”
“Oh, I see.” Kara leaned her head against the window. “I’m lumped in with the drug addicts.”
“And homeless people.” Addy grinned.
“Actually, that’s not such bad company.” Kara thought about Jalina, the hope in her eyes when Addy talked about God’s love. “Can we do that again?”
“We sure can.”
Chapter 30
A live audience.” Kara clapped her hands. “Awesome.”
“You’d better be careful not to look at the people in the audience like you look at those cameras.” Anna Grace smiled venom in Kara’s direction.
“Still not working, Anna Grace.” Kara walked past the blonde. “When will you learn that I am immune to your southern intimidation?”
“I’m not trying to intimidate you.” Anna Grace’s smile faded. “I’m trying to help you out. Every time I watch you, you’re looking right at the cameras. It looks very unprofessional.”
“And Kylie plays with her hands. Zoey blinks too much. Jillian’s voice is high pitched,” Kara said. “You have a criticism for everybody here.”
“I notice things, okay?” Anna Grace placed her hands on her slender hips. “And Ashley agrees with me. So maybe you’d better listen too.”
Ava joined Anna Grace and Kara. “Ashley nodded once when you said something about me needing to pull my hair back. Don’t go try to turn that into you being her favorite.”
“You’re taking her side now?” Anna Grace waved a hand in Kara’s direction.
“No.” Ava walked from the living room into the kitchen. “I’m on my side. I’ll have time for friendships after this audition is over. Until then, it’s war.”
Flora walked into the kitchen just in time to hear Ava’s last comment.
&
nbsp; “May I offer a piece of advice, Ava?” Flora asked.
“Hmm, let me think.” Ava looked at Flora, taking in her floor-length mustard yellow sarong, her blue-black hair, and her crutches, covered at the ends with mismatched scraps of fabric. “No. Don’t think I want any advice from you.”
Ava walked off toward her room. Anna Grace waited a few seconds and then walked down the same hallway to her room.
Kara sat on a stool at the bar. “I’ll hear the advice, Flora.”
“Thank you, dear.” Flora leaned her crutches against the kitchen wall and hobbled over to the table. “I was going to tell her a quote by C. S. Lewis. He says, ‘Friendship is unnecessary.’”
“What?” Kara sat up.
Flora held up a small hand. “‘Like philosophy, like art . . . It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival.’”
“Okay.” Kara exhaled. “I get it. Friendship brings beauty to life.”
“Well said.” Flora smiled. “The right kind of friendship, that is.”
“I don’t think there’s any kind of friendship going on here.”
“Unfortunately, I have to agree with that assessment. And it seems that behavior like this is to be expected if you are in the entertainment industry.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too. I love acting, Flora. More than anything. But I don’t know if I’m cut out to be around all these attitudes all the time. I like my drama onstage. Not off.”
“Are you second-guessing your career choice?” Flora motioned for Kara to join her at the table.
Kara sat next to Flora and sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve never doubted that this is what I wanted. And when I’m performing . . . it’s great. I’m so happy. But then I’m done and the girls are all catty or critical. I’m worried this is what it’ll be like. I don’t know who else is on this show we’re auditioning for. What if the other actors are like Ava and Anna Grace? ”
Flora nodded. “Those are good questions to be asking.”
Kara stared at the table. “If I get this part, I’ll be working most of the school year. My schoolwork will be supervised by a teacher on set. My costar will be my classmate. I’ll be spending most of my time with him.”
“That’s true,” Flora said.
“It could be miserable.”
“Have you asked God what he thinks about this situation? ”
Kara looked at Flora. “I don’t even think I believe in him. How can I ask him what to do?”
“You don’t think you believe in him?”
“I don’t know.” Kara leaned back in the kitchen chair. “I’m beginning to wonder.”
“Good.”
“Are you a psychiatrist pretending to be a housemother? ” Kara laughed.
“Certainly not.” Flora sat up and shook her blue-black head.
“A preacher?”
Flora laughed loudly. “Oh, my dear. I’m just a woman who wants to see you live life to the fullest.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Kara smiled.
“‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”
“I know that one.” Kara closed her eyes. “Hamlet, right? ”
“Very good.” Flora smiled.
“You think I’m missing something?”
“I think you’re missing someone.”
“You know what?” Kara thought back to her day at the homeless shelter with Addy. “You might be right.”
“Might be,” Flora said. “We’re getting closer, aren’t we? ”
“Between you and Addy, I can’t get away from all this God-talk.”
“He is pursuing you, Kara.”
“That sounds like he’s a detective or some boy with a crush.”
“He seeks you out like a detective.” Flora cocked her head to the side. “And he loves you more passionately than any boy ever will. But he is neither of those things. God is God.”
“But if he really is who you guys say he is—and I’m not saying I’m ready to believe that—then why would he even be interested in me? Why pursue me? I’m just some puny human in this massive universe. Why does he care?”
Flora folded her hands on the table. “That, my dear, is one of the great mysteries. Thankfully, we don’t have to understand God’s great love. We just have to accept it.”
“Just accept it?” Kara shook her head. “But there’s more than just accepting he loves me. What about all those ‘Thou shalt not’s’?”
“To which are you referring? ‘Thou shalt not steal’? ‘Thou shalt not murder’?”
Kara smiled. “You know what I mean. You Christians have all kinds of things you can’t do and places you can’t go.”
“Everyone has a set of rules he follows.”
Kara raised her eyebrows. “I’m from New York. I can promise you not everyone lives by a set of rules.”
“I didn’t say everyone follows God’s rules.”
“What about gangs? They don’t follow any rules at all.”
Flora leaned back in her seat. “I have a good friend who used to be in a gang in Miami. He says the rules he used to follow were myriad, from what he could and could not wear to whom he could and could not speak to. To maintain his position in the gang, my friend had to follow the orders of his superior. Those orders were often dangerous and illegal. But he had to follow them or face dire consequences.”
“And did he?”
“He did until the police captured him carrying out one of those orders—the murder of a rival gang member.”
Kara’s eyes widened.
“He is in jail now, and I correspond with him.”
“You’re pen pals with a murderer?”
“I correspond with several murderers.” Flora shrugged.
“I never thought of doing that,” Kara said. “Can anyone just send letters to guys in prison?”
“You are still young, Kara.” Flora laced her fingers together. “I wouldn’t recommend putting yourself in that situation just yet. Some men, unfortunately, like to take advantage of beautiful young girls.”
“So how did you get started? Weren’t you nervous they’d take advantage of you?”
“I mail the letters to a man I know who runs a prison ministry. He takes them out of my envelope and puts them in a plain one, so the inmates don’t have my street address. We must balance our love with wisdom.”
“But how’d you get started? You just woke up one day and said, ‘I feel like writing a murderer’?”
“A very good friend of mine told me about it. She used to write inmates. But when she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, she lost that ability. So I felt God calling me to take it up.”
“What do you write about?”
“I let them know God loves them and offers forgiveness. Many of the men and women I write to have become Christians. They tell me that following Jesus offers much more freedom than following the ways of the world. They have hope and purpose.”
“But they took lives. How can you tell them God loves them?”
“Because he does,” Flora said. “God doesn’t love us because of what we can do for him. He loves us because we are his.”
Kara inhaled deeply. “But I’m a good person. I’m not a murderer or a gang member.”
“You are a sinner.”
“What?”
“The Bible tells us that all have sinned.”
“Sure, maybe I’ve told a lie here and there or lost my temper, but nothing major.”
“Sin is sin. And sin keeps us from having a relationship with God.”
“So I can’t know God because I’ve told some little white lies? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Flora held out her cup of carrot juice. “What if someone put a drop of cyanide in this cup? Just a drop?”
“You’d die?”
“And what if someone put a whole spoonful of cyanide in this cup?”
“You’d die faster,” Kara said.
&
nbsp; “Very true.” Flora took a sip of her carrot juice. “Sin is like poison. We are all infected, and it is always fatal. However, Jesus offered a cure.”
“That’s why he died?”
Flora nodded. “Because he was the only one to ever walk this earth and live a sinless life.”
“Because you believe he’s God?”
“Because he said he was God, and Scripture affirms that.”
“So he’s like the antidote to sin?”
“Exactly.”
“And other religions?”
“They are taking the wrong antidote, to continue your analogy,” Flora said. “If I were to ingest cyanide, and someone gave me aspirin, would I live?”
“No.”
“Is that fair?” Flora grinned.
“I get what you’re saying. But what if there is no sin? What if you’re wrong?”
“When God gets ahold of your heart, he shows himself to you in so many ways that you will know he is real. Ask him to do that for you.”
Kara sighed. “You keep saying that.”
“Because knowing God isn’t about the intellect, Kara. I can answer your questions, and I don’t mind doing that. But true, saving faith involves all of you: heart, mind, and soul. Only God can speak to your soul.”
“I’m going to keep thinking about it, okay? I’m still not sure, though. It’s a little scary.”
“I am praying for you, Kara.”
She looked at her phone. “Oh no! Pray I memorize my lines really quickly. I totally forgot about the live show. We’re going on in just a few hours. I better go.”
Kara stood to leave the kitchen and turned back to face Flora. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Flora’s smile was broad and her laugh deep. “Oh, Kara. I feel the same way.”
Kara walked back to her room. All right, God. Maybe you are real. And maybe you’re trying to help me see that. You sure aren’t letting me forget about you. So let me see you. Somehow. If you’re out there and you really love me, like Flora and Addy say, show me. How about letting me get the part on this show, God? Kara smiled as she picked up her script. That would definitely make me believe.