When Stars Go Out

by Grey, Ransom;

  Reed clenched his teeth for a second, staring at the ground before he went on. “Mom wasn’t any better. I had to visit her because the court said I did, but I didn’t want to. The divorce was all her fault; she walked out and left us for a CPA. She married him, too. He already had a son who was an absolute jerk. Of course, they tried to make us get along because we were ‘step-brothers,’ but I’m no more related to him than to… to Darth Vader. My sister had to live with him, and she said he was awful. She’s the only one in my family I even remotely cared for, but I haven’t heard from her since we got shipped off. I have no idea where she is now.

  “That’s pain, and you have no idea what it’s like! You grew up in a perfect family and lived a dream all your life. You can’t understand.” Reed turned away abruptly, his emotions getting the best of him, and worked to bring himself under control.

  Silence hung in the air for a moment, interrupted only by a cicada singing in the distance. Elijah sighed. “That is pain, Reed. Terrible pain. But…” he paused. His voice sounded strangely tired and sad. “But I’m not like you think. I don’t like to tell people this, but there’s something you need to know. It’s a long story; maybe it will help you understand.”

  Chapter 31

  “You’re right,” Elijah began. “I did grow up in a wonderful family. We didn’t have everything perfect, but it was about as close as you can get. There were five of us kids—three girls and two boys. My parents were strong Christians who taught us to love Jesus and love people. Their goal was to give us a stable, Godly home to grow up in, and they did an amazing job. We had a gorgeous place out in the Texas hill country with acres of woods and pastures and a beautiful house. Growing up was fantastic.

  “One summer, my oldest sister and brother were invited on a mission trip down into Mexico. Mom and Dad thought it might be dangerous but agreed to let them go because they thought it would be a good experience. Everybody was so excited about it. They went to the city of Juarez, just south of the border. On their third day there, their group got caught in the crossfire of a gang shootout. They died at the scene.”

  Elijah tightened his lips for a moment, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. “We’d known there would be risk involved if they went, but still… we weren’t prepared at all. Burying two of your siblings is painful beyond words. I was heartbroken. As I stood in the rain at the funeral, I didn’t think anything could ever hurt that badly again.” He swallowed and looked down. “I was wrong. That fall, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. It was already in stage four when they found it, and there was nothing they could do. She died within two months, at Christmas. We buried her next to the other two before the grass had even grown over their graves.”

  He took a shaky breath and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “It was so sudden. Two months isn’t long when it’s all you’ve got. We tried to adjust, but it was so empty, so lonely trying to put the pieces back together and find some kind of normal. That winter was hard, very hard. We tried to stay busy, but it just didn’t seem like there was a normal anymore.”

  He heaved a deep sigh and dropped his hands. “Spring came, and things started to get a little better. Spring’s always beautiful in the hill country. I was still in school, but I got a job. It helped keep me busy. My sisters were starting to feel better, too, but it was harder for Dad. The months after Mom died wore on him brutally. Still, he felt sorry for the girls. They were working their hearts out around the house most of the time, trying to take Mom’s place. He decided they needed a break.

  “One day, he announced he was going to take us down to San Antonio for the weekend on a mini-vacation. The girls were more excited than I’d seen them in months. I just couldn’t make it work with my job schedule. They wanted to put it off until another time, but I told them to go on without me. I didn’t want to make them wait.

  “They left around six-thirty on a Friday night—Dad and both girls. I was working the late shift that night. I got the call just before seven. They had been on an overpass on their way out of town when a drunk driver hit them. The car flipped off the bridge and landed upside-down on the freeway underneath. My second sister was the only survivor.”

  Elijah’s voice nearly broke. He pressed his fists together and swallowed hard before he went on. “I got to the hospital as soon as I could. I had no idea what to expect. I knew it wasn’t going to be good, but… it turned out worse than anything I’d imagined. They let me in to be with her, but they told me right away she didn’t have much of a chance. Not long after I got there, she slipped away while I was holding her hand.”

  Reed listened in stunned silence. Elijah put his hands over his face for a moment and drew a long, deep breath. “That night in the hospital, I felt the full weight of complete, crushing grief. In less than a year, I had gone from one of five children to the last survivor of my family. In the hall outside her room, I put my back against the wall and slid down to the floor, overwhelmed. I had lost it all—everything that had been my life was gone.”

  He swallowed again and wiped his arm across his eyes. “But, as I sat there, somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard a voice—a small, quiet voice telling me everything was not lost. There was something more, something greater, and I was still incredibly blessed.”

  Reed lifted his head for the first time and stared at him.

  Elijah was gazing down the slope at nothing. “I grew up in a Christian home, saved at a young age and taught the Bible as long as I could remember. I knew everything was supposed to work out for the good of those who love God. I knew I was supposed to trust Him; I was supposed to have faith. I knew that. But now, when all that teaching turned to real life, it was too hard. My life was in pieces all around me; I couldn’t even stand on my own feet. With everything gone that I loved, there was a hand reaching out to help me, but I didn’t have the strength to take it. I knew I needed to—I wanted to—but I was too broken. I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.”

  Elijah gripped his hands together tightly. “As I sat on the floor with my face in my hands and all this in my mind, I cried out to God from an absolutely broken heart. He was all I had left; He was what I needed. I wanted Him so badly! ‘God!’ I cried. ‘Give me strength. I don’t know what You’re doing. Show me something. Help me understand!’

  “Someone touched me on the shoulder. I looked up and saw a man I didn’t know kneeling down next to me. He had tears in his eyes, and he said the nurses had told him what happened. He told me he had something for me and he knew I would understand it. Then he put something in my hand and walked away. I’d never seen him before and I never saw him again, but I know God sent him. What he gave me was this.”

  Reed sucked in his breath. Elijah, reaching into his shirt, drew out by its silver chain the mysterious pendant. It lifted out of his collar, spinning slowly, and he laid it in his open hand.

  It was unlike any piece of jewelry Reed had ever seen. Part of it was a cross, about an inch long, made of some kind of metal—steel perhaps—unrefined and rough. Mounted on top of this, however, was a jeweler’s masterpiece. It was a long, T-shaped leaf crafted from some kind of deep green gemstone of perfect beauty, outlined with an edging of silver. Delicate silver veins branched from the base of the stem where the chain ran through. The entire leaf, set where the two crosspieces intercepted, was shorter than the cross, but it almost could have grown there. Delicate silver tendrils from the stem twined their way about the rough metal bars as if alive. It was truly beautiful.

  Elijah gazed at it in his palm. “The man was right. I did know what it meant. As I looked at it, I realized it was a picture of what was happening to me. The cross, like this one, is a symbol of pain, death, and sacrifice, a sign of suffering. But out of that suffering comes something else, like this leaf, pure and beautiful. This pendant said it all perfectly. For me, there was terrible suffering that I couldn’t understand, but God was using it for a purpose: He was going to bring beauty and goodness out of it. I could trust that His plan was
good, even if it hurt me. He gave me a picture to help me understand that, a picture of the greatest thing I had left—hope.”

  Hope. The word was like a shaft of light, breaking through a dismal darkness and streaming down to Reed. Hope—a fresh word, a strange word—a word that awakened a longing in his heart and answered the cry of his soul.

  Elijah went on. “As I held it, I understood—not in my head but in my heart—that I hadn’t lost everything. Most of the dearest things in my life had been taken away, but I could still find the courage to get up and live another day because I had a reason for living. So many people never have that. But I did. I had a God Who gave me purpose and meaning. A God Who gave me a base to rebuild my life on. A God Whose heart broke with mine and Who would carry me in His strong arms, no matter what happened.”

  Elijah gently touched the jewel with the thumb of his open hand. “That night in the hall, God gave me the strength to take His hand and go on—through the funerals, the loneliness, the heartache, and the healing. Ever since that night, I’ve worn this pendant constantly. It’s a weight I carry for His sake. It represents the sorrow and pain of losing my family.”

  Reed recalled Elijah’s whispered words to Ethan weeks before at the Shellys’ farm. I hope you never have to, Ethan. Never.

  Elijah continued. “But it also stands for something else. When I put it on, I accepted God’s will for me, no matter how painful or confusing it might be. It’s like a symbol of trust and a reminder of the cost at the same time.”

  Elijah released the gem and let it fall back onto his chest. “See, Reed, I do know what pain is. I know what it’s like to have everything fall apart around you. I know that life can seem so good one minute and then knock the breath out of you the next. I know how insecure it is. But I found real security. There’s only one thing strong enough to build your whole life on. It’s Jesus, Reed, Jesus! People will let you down, popularity changes, looks fade, styles get old. They’re all flimsy and shallow and trivial. You’ve seen that now; I know you have. But what I found isn’t like that. It outlasts everything else and gives me an established identity in Christ. Does that make sense?”

  Reed stared at the ground in inner turmoil. Elijah’s words stirred his heart and made it yearn for exactly what he was talking about. This was what had been evading him his whole life—this, right here. But something held him back. “Yeah, I see,” he said at length. “But there’s a catch. I’ve heard you guys talk about this before. You said you have to sign over your whole life to God and be His slave. I ain’t nobody’s slave. I can take care of myself without anybody telling me what to do.” He tried to sound calmer than he felt, but his grammar betrayed him.

  Elijah looked at him strangely. “Do you really think so?”

  “Of course! I’m pretty independent.”

  Elijah shook his head and leaned his elbows on his knees again. “Don’t take this wrong,” he said softly, “but you’re really not.”

  “What do you mean, I’m not?” Reed retorted. “Wouldn’t I know?”

  Elijah sighed. “It’s like I said at the beginning. There’s more happening here than you think.” He clasped his hands together. “See, Reed, there’s a war going on over our world. Two sides are fighting to the death over every single person on the planet, but most of us are completely oblivious. But even if we don’t have a clue about what’s going on, we’re all on one of those two sides. Reed, there’s no such thing as the middle. You’re either on one side or the other.

  “I’ve just been telling you about one side: God and His Son. But there’s more to it than that. There are powers of darkness, evil that only wants to destroy us. When we think we’re living for ourselves, we’re not. We think we’re doing whatever we want, but the power of darkness is using us for its purposes. Evil’s tricky like that; it always betrays.”

  Reed cocked one eyebrow. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

  “Why not? You’re literally surrounded by it every day.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Hill—it’s a giant trap built by evil to keep you from being all you can be. Reed, you’re literally a prisoner. You’re not free to do what you want, to be your own person. You’re ruled by what everyone else says, by popular opinion, by rules, the government, the Council, and by the force behind it. And, what’s really crazy, you don’t care. You used to, but they’ve used all the glitz and glamor to blind you to what’s really going on. They know how to make it look good.”

  Elijah turned his eyes toward the distant hills. “Take Michael, for instance. He’s awesome, right? That’s why they picked him. He’s a mask for what’s really behind it all—the darkness, the fear, the evil. They pay him to make them look good so you let down your guard and they can get in. They’re brainwashing you.”

  It rose in Reed’s mind like the memory of a dream that he had been angry when he first got here. He had seethed against the government, against GRO, and even the Hill. Never forget and never let go, he had said. Now, of course, he still grumbled about the Council and its rules, but… he wasn’t angry anymore. He liked what they had done. He was glad he had been brought here. What had happened?

  “It’s what darkness does,” Elijah answered his unspoken question. “You’re right in the middle of its most effective scheme on the planet. But it’s not the only power out there. What you’ve been telling me shows that you’re being drawn out of the darkness and into the light. God has used all sorts of things to point you in the right direction—curiosity, loneliness, even rebellion. He can turn them all into His tools. Everybody feels a desire to get more out of life at some point, but you, you’re feeling God’s special call firsthand. He’s chosen you, Reed. We’ve all known it from the beginning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The first day Nathan met you at the factory, he knew you were different; there was something about you. That’s why we let you come to our meetings.” Elijah looked over at him. “We wouldn’t take that kind of risk unless we felt God wanted us to. The first night we met you was a confirmation. I could even see it in your eyes. God was trying to draw you to Himself, but the devil was fighting tooth and nail to keep you. You felt it, didn’t you—a struggle you didn’t fully understand?”

  Reed said nothing. He could feel his skepticism melting out from under him.

  “Reed, you’ve been given an amazing chance! Don’t you see how God worked all this out? He placed you next to Nathan in the factory out of all people in the entire city and in the same room as Reagan, of all people. You’ve gotten to taste the very best of life on both sides so you could make a choice. And now, He’s opening your eyes so you can see the truth. That’s what you’re feeling! That’s what happened to you today at the pool, and that’s what I meant when I said God had a purpose in the shooting. He used it to show you that the Hill’s not enough for you anymore. That’s how the good is coming out of the pain. There is something more, Reed! You see that now.”

  “But…” Reed suddenly became aware that, even though his anger and hatred had been anesthetized, the greater, colder force—the gripping fear—had not. “But I can’t just change,” he breathed in a low voice. “That would… would…”

  “Yes, it would. All of us paid a price for being different. They make us pay it every day on the Hill. We all have to give up something, Reed. I did. It can cost a lot, but it’s worth it—every bit worth it! The scorn, hate, pain, sorrow—it’s nothing compared to what God can offer. Just think about it.”

  Reed didn’t answer, and they sat in silence. As they talked, the sun had sunk out of sight behind the mountains, and the last of its golden gleams vanished from the sky. Lights twinkled in the city below, and a soft green glow lit up the west, rising from the horizon and fading into a deeper blue above. Just where this last bit of fleeing day met the oncoming night, the first star appeared, large and bright in the evening sky.

  Elijah gazed at it for a moment. Softly, he said, “You know how some
people think it’s comforting to look at the hills when they’re tired or lonely? I’ve always looked to the night sky. The stars are so beautiful, and they’re like… a promise. God says He knows every single star and names them, so why would He ever forget about me? I can’t count how many times when I was lonely or hurting that I’ve looked up and seen this same star in the west. It was always there, always bright, and it was comforting to know that the same God Who made it made me, too. Maybe it’s dumb, but I claimed it for my own a long time ago. And ever since, whenever I look at it, I always think of God and feel closer to Him.”

  Reed turned to look at him wonderingly. Elijah’s eyes had never been a purer, more blazing blue than they were in the fading twilight as he gazed up into the sky. They were beautiful, stunningly beautiful, and Reed suddenly understood a little more about them. They always held a kind of life and sparkle, but there was more to them than that—there was the depth Reed had marveled at from the beginning. Only now did he understand it. It was the depth caused by the crushing weight of great sorrow and pain and by the strength that grows from enduring and overcoming. Elijah had survived, risen above, come through into a higher nature. It was the refined beauty that suffering produces.

  “No,” said Reed. “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”

  Elijah smiled and stood up, slipping the pendant back inside his shirt. “Cody’s probably wondering where I am. I should go. But don’t forget this, Reed. Think about it. Really think about it. You’ve heard us talk about what to do—praying, salvation, the Christian life—but it’s your choice. Maybe God will show you the love of Jesus for yourself in a way you can really understand.” He put his hand on Reed’s shoulder for an instant. “I’ll pray for you.”

  He walked away, whistling softly, and disappeared into the gathering dusk. Reed stared after him, dazed. There was so much at once, so much to put together. He rose to his feet. Perhaps it would be made clearer for him like Elijah said. He was torn, mixed up, and… well, stubborn. But he couldn’t stand here all night. With his heart and mind full, Reed turned and began his walk back to the Dorms.