They ran three-quarter speed over the bridge spanning the Intercoastal and stopped in Buena Vista Park. Winded, he bent at the waist, hands on knees, and sucked air into his lungs.
Jesse, backdropped by the choppy river, sluiced sweat from his face. “Did you see Cal and Raine on the seawall?”
Drew nodded.
“Cool, huh?”
Not cool. Very not cool. He didn’t know if he was the man for Rainey, but he knew it wasn’t Cal. That much he knew.
Jesse jogged in place. “A girl like Raine could do a world of good for Cal.”
“Right.” Drew rifled a rock into the water. A pelican sitting on a piling squawked. If Rainey fell for Cal, Drew wasn’t going to get a shot at her. “Let’s go.” He sprinted out of the park.
He’d run the edge off his anger. So, how about giving me a green light to go after Rainey? If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he’d always wanted to get married. He’d just refused to think about it since Sam.
As they headed back over the bridge toward Riverside Charlie’s, his mind drifted to his personal marriage cautionary tale: Meg Stanley. She directed Spring Break Bible Camp like a punctured balloon kamikazeing around the gym. One stint as her assistant had left him with whiplash and a vat of pity for Meg’s husband. What did it feel like to wake up next to Meg’s sleep-swollen face and the cobbled-together gel-packs of her body. Surely, Meg had been less lumpy and domineering ten years ago when Greg Stanley married her. But Geez Louise, he was glad it wasn’t him.
If God was protecting him from Greg Stanley’s fate, so be it. But it was impossible to imagine Raine morphing into that. He was going to trust God with choosing his wife. This was one decision he didn’t want to screw up. If God was testing him to see if he’d learned to submit to authority since the waterspout fiasco, he had.
No way was Cal going to Africa. What if— “Would God dangle a carrot to entice me to Africa?”
Jesse grinned over at him. “What kind of carrot?”
“Hypothetical.”
“Seems to me like God’s all about making you lay down your life. Not about carrots.”
“Could you sugar coat it once, Jess?”
“He’s not going to hide what He wants you to do. It must not be the right time to fill you in yet. Go ahead and apply for the music director position. See what happens.”
They were passing the florescent light of The Beacon restaurant when he remembered a detail from the night he walked in on Cal painting Rainey. A dab of yellow paint on Rainey’s cheek the color of her blouse in the painting. Cal’s hand had been on her face. Passing the test just got a whole lot harder.
#
Raine stared at the springs in Aly’s bunk overhead. Soft white light filtered through the screen, casting swaying hibiscus shadows on the wall across from her. Cal cared about her. The heavy air weighed down on her, a moist blanket she couldn’t shake. What was she going to do?
Aly moved in her sleep, the bed creaked.
Lord, please help Cal connect with You. It was a selfish prayer. If Cal fully hooked into God, maybe God would tell him to go to Africa. Or Cal could derail her from Africa altogether if she let herself care for him in his present state. When Jesus was tempted, at least He knew it was Satan. With Cal, everything was so murky. Give me strength to walk through this. She wanted to honor Him with every step.
She pulled her quilt over her head, breathed in the scent of sunshine, and slept.
#
Cal bobbed in the waves on his board as claret sun seeped into the wispy pines. The red bled across the water till he was suffused in color. Like his feelings for Raine, he hadn’t had a choice. Raine happened to him. And last night she turned him down cold.
His gaze caught on Drew body surfing a wave toward shore. Not bad.
Raine was about principles. She could be flat out in love with him and it wouldn’t matter. She was going to Africa. And she’d go with a spiritual man or no man.
Drew stood and marched back into the surf. The wave had dumped him opposite Cal, and now he swam toward him.
The softness of Raine’s skin, the hardness of her convictions, warred in his mind. Her hair was corn silk slipping through his fingers, but Africa meant dirt and poverty. He wanted to touch her, but the price was giving up his life to God.
Drew righted himself in the chest high water. “Hey. Awesome on the last wave you rode.”
“Not bad yourself.”
Drew cracked a wry smile. “Like I could stand on a board.”
Drew wore humility well. He could almost forgive the guy for looking at Raine’s portrait –devouring it—before it was completed. Almost.
They rolled with the sea, he on his board and Drew standing, then floating when a wave pushed through. They gazed toward land, and the halo of sunlight turned salmon and seeped though the trees.
The beauty seemed almost holy. He glanced at Drew, whose mouth had parted, his eyes riveted on the tree line. Maybe there was some common ground between them, at least in this dying sky.
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “I do a lot of thinking out here…” His voice cut through the silence, breaking open the turmoil that had been cooking toward a boil all day. “I’ve always despised people who bargain with God. Seems to me like you should go to God when you’re up on the wave, not when you’re churning in the undertow.”
Drew treaded water in a swell of water. “Depends on what the bargain is.”
“If you were God and somebody said, ‘You give me the girl, You’ve got me,’ what would you do?”
Drew was quiet so long, he looked down at him to see if he was going to answer.
“Maybe you have it backwards. Give God control of your life, then let Him decide whether you get the girl.”
“Risky. Maybe you’d never get the girl, and you be stuck a no-name preacher like Jesse. He could have made it big with his band, you know. And my old man pastors a church. He’s got sixty-five bosses, none of them happy.”
“Are Jesse and your dad satisfied with their lives?”
He’d never thought about it. But, yeah, they liked their lives alright. He grinned at Drew. “They got the girls.”
Drew laughed. He looked at his watch in the pale rose light. “I gotta run. Elementary campfire. Later.”
“Later.”
Cal watched Drew’s powerful strokes and the push of the waves move him toward shore. Maybe Drew didn’t mind, but he sure wasn’t living Jesse’s or his dad’s life. He made it sound like he questioned God’s existence or His sticking his fingers in people’s lives. But, yeah, he believed. He just didn’t want controlled. By anyone.
He was a sea gull chick who had cracked open its shell, but hadn’t shimmied out yet—of Mom’s control, God’s. Would marrying Raine be like gluing the shell back together before he’d experienced life outside? How close could he skate to giving in to God without actually doing it?
Man, he was already thinking marriage. How did he get here? Raine was the kind of girl you had to marry to touch. Anybody could tell you that. How could waking up in bed with Raine for the rest of his life be a bad thing? And, hey, she would validate his virginity—a parking stub stamped at Pac Sun.
He was going to have to suck it up if he wanted Raine. She would see through bogus religiosity in zero to five seconds.
The sky cooled to magenta as he caught a curl. He lay on his stomach, paddling for all he was worth. Up! His feet welded to the wax on his board. The dregs of the day reflected off the water slicked fiberglass. He tasted salt on his teeth. The wave held all the way to shore. “Sweet! Nice job,” he shouted at the heavens. Well, that was a start.
He ripped open the Velcro ankle band, hefted the board onto his shoulder, and waded through the mush that had been his wave. “And a pretty dang good job on Raine.”
All of a sudden, he remembered something Raine said. That sunset was God’s kiss. The wave was a gift. Well, check that out. Maybe they were moving past détente.
&
nbsp; #
Drew spat the saltwater out of his mouth as he jogged from the surf. Cal was in love with Rainey. The realization he’d been resisting ever since he saw Rainey’s portrait hit him full force.
Cal didn’t share Rainey’s commitment to God, but that could change. Maybe it was changing right now. He grabbed his towel off the sand and rubbed his head dry. He didn’t need this right before he had to be spiritually “on” to lead worship at elementary campfire.
He didn’t want to pray for Cal to connect with God. Weren’t Jesse and the rest of Cal’s family taking care of that job? But they hadn’t heard Cal’s questions. Sometimes God asked too much.
He dropped to his knees in the soft sand. Use my words to convince Cal to let You run him. Not what I want, but what You want. He got up and walked toward the circle of light around the campfire.
#
Raine watched Drew unlatch his guitar case. He sat on a log in the sand and tuned the guitar. Sand clung to his knees. The campfire crackled in the deep end of the day.
Raine squeezed her arms across her stomach trying to quell the nervousness. Her eyes flicked to the note card in her hand. She wasn’t used to talking to a group as large as the elementary campfire would be.
“Rainey!”
Her head jerked up and she realized this wasn’t the first time Drew had called her name.
“Come pray.” He patted the log beside him. She sat down, and he held out his hand to her.
She looked at the lines in his palm and grasped his hand tightly.
Drew eyed her. “You’re nervous.”
“A little.” That was a gross understatement.
“Right.” He bowed his head. “Lord, help Rainey to relax. Use us both. We surrender our minds, bodies, spirits to You for the job that lies ahead.”
“Lord, keep me aware my confidence is in You and not in my ability to tell the story well. We love You. Thank You for giving us this chance to work for You.” She squeezed Drew’s hand and looked into his eyes. “Do you always pray, or was that just for me?”
“What do you think?”
He was grinning so wide and holding on to her hand—she scrambled around to remember what they were talking about. “That you pray.”
He relaxed his grip. “Sometimes I forget. You should help me every night with campfire, then I wouldn’t forget.”
“We’ll talk—afterward—if I live through this.”
The campers hopped over the seawall like popping corn, their counselors futilely trying to keep them corralled. Missy waved a big two-armed wave as she stepped onto the sand. Raine took a seat away from Drew so she could watch him sing and play. She didn’t want to think too much about why that was such a treat.
The children squirmed and flopped on the sand. Drew strummed his guitar. The kids took this as an invitation to shout out song requests. “Rolling Over the Billows!” “Granny’s in the Cellar!” “The Watermelon song!” “I Don’t Know Why She Swallowed a Fly!”
Drew stood and launched into, “Fish heads, fish heads, rolly-polly fish heads. Fish heads, fish heads, eat ‘em up. Yum!”
She sat with her chin in her hands watching Drew. There’s a guy who knows how to have fun. Drew paced back and forth between the fire and the children. The kids shouted the words along with Drew. “I took a fish head out to a restaurant. He didn’t eat much, so I ate him! Fish heads, fish heads, rolly-polly fish heads. Fish heads, fish heads, eat ‘em up. Yum!”
Six verses later, Drew shifted into “Sipping Cider,” obviously another of the kids’ favorites. She was beginning to see Drew’s tactic—wear the kids out so they would listen quietly to the Bible story. At least this song was more singing than shouting. She would have loved camp if she’d gone as a kid. Sadness buzzed her head and she shooed it away. Well, here she was. Not too late to enjoy it.
The song wound down. Drew sang, “And they sipped cider lip to lip.” His eyes found her. She blushed as the kids warbled the line a second time.
Drew grinned at her for a split second before he swung away and belted, “Give me wax for my board, keep me surfin’ for the Lord. Give me wax on my board, I pray. Halleluiah!”
Was he flirting with her? She shook her head. It was just Drew teasing her as usual. Her gaze drifted to the ocean. That had to be Cal paddling hard to catch a wave. Orange light lit his hair. He was up now, riding the hollow of the arc with his arms stretched out for balance. The wave churned behind him as though it were chasing him. Cal curved the board into the waning wave and disappeared into the curl.
Drew eased the kids into worship songs, and finally, quiet. “Lord, talk to us through Rainey. Amen.”
She warmed as though Drew had trained a car lot searchlight on her.
“Kids,” Drew set his guitar into its case, “I know you guys all like Rainey. Listen carefully because she’s not as loud as I am!” He was doing everything he could to make this easy for her.
In a blink she was into the story—one she’d known by heart at their age. This was what she loved to do. At the end, she asked, “Tell me what you got out of the story.”
“God loves sheep!” an older boy with a bandana tied around his forehead said. A few snickers followed.
“God loves me—very much,” A little blond girl in pigtails said.
A girl in the back added, “Even when I do wrong things.”
Drew stood up when the kids began to repeat each other. “Is there anything you want to say to God after hearing the story? You can come up, and Rainey or I will pray with you.” Drew strummed quietly and the children’s voices floated up with the sparks from the campfire.
The last of the children knotted around the fire, tossing in pinecones and watching them sputter and pop. Their counselors snaked them back toward camp along the street.
Drew added a log to the fire. Her gaze traveled back to where she’d last seen Cal surfing. He perched on his board between the surf and the fire, the moon illumining his shirtless shoulders. How much of the story had he heard? What went through his head?
#
The elementary kids clustered around the campfire. Like every other evening Cal surfed, Drew sung and played his guitar. His gaze tripped over Raine. This was the first time he’d seen her at Drew’s campfire. He stopped paddling and sat up on his board.
Raine stood. Her mouth moved, but he was too far away to hear.
He grabbed his board and jogged out of the surf.
“I always picture the sheep who wanders off as a black sheep,” Raine was saying, “You know, the cowlick in the flock of a hundred sheep. He’s the sheep who doesn’t like to follow directions, learns everything the hard way.”
He turned his board fin-up and sat on it. Mom had always called him her little sheep when he was a kid because of his curly hair. And he was the family black sheep. He wondered if Raine was thinking of him while she told the story. Had she pegged him as a guy who learned everything the hard way? Cal shook his head, flinging water droplets onto his skin and board.
“The protector of the sheep leaves the sheep in a safe spot and goes looking for the ornery sheep. He will keep looking until he finds him. Do you know why? Because he loves that black sheep with his whole heart. You can tell because he carries him home on his shoulders and throws a party to celebrate finding him.”
He lay back on his board watching a sliver of moon creep up over the line where water met sky. God loved him the way he was—someone who submitted poorly, with an affection for intoxicants. He’d heard that story a hundred times and never applied it to himself.
The sky deepened to navy, layered with indigo; a faint fuchsia ribbon hovered above the trees. Stars debuted over the ocean one by one. And Cal again felt the caress of God.
Childhood Bible verses broke loose like driftwood that had been caught in a logger jam. First, This is love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Then, But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us a
live with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And, God is love.
Any doubt the sunset had been God’s communication with him ebbed away with the verses. God loved him. Truth seared to his core. A snippet from a song the kids were singing wrapped around him. “Into the marvelous light I’m running, away from darkness and shame…”
He couldn’t wait to tell Raine.
Chapter 14
Cal hung back in the dark away from the campfire. The last cabin of elementary kids scooted over the seawall to head for camp. Raine stood beside the fire talking and waving her arms while Drew added another log to the fire. Kallie and Jillian, the first arrivals for the teen campfire, inched toward the circle of firelight.
Maybe he should walk over and tell them about his encounter with God, but it felt like spun glass inside him—fragile and hard to put into words. He didn’t want to do anything to disturb what had happened. He’d catch Raine later, when she was alone.
#
Aly closed her eyes. The pain in her ankle throbbed with the pulsing chirp of the crickets. She repositioned the plastic Zip-loc of ice. Yellow light glared from the dining hall porch. She picked loose a chip of white paint off the gazebo bench with her fingernail trying to focus on something other than pain.
Who was walking up the road from the beach? “Cal! Over here.” It hurt to yell.
He walked over. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?”
“I wrenched my ankle playing Capture the Flag with the teens. Jesse went to get the van to take me to emergency.”
Cal sat down and squinted at her foot. “Oh man, Aly, how did you do it?”
“Tripped over a wire the landscapers—probably Gar—put up to protect some plantings.” She held her hand up to stop Cal’s question. “Do I ever know where he is?”
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