The Pages of Her Life
Page 26
“Not before I have a chance to speak,” Allison said.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Derrek chuckled and glanced at his watch. “But right now I need to focus on these projects, or we might not have an office to be standing in to have those opportunities to speak.” Another hearty laugh.
“No, Derrek, I’m—”
The laughter died abruptly. “Truly, Allison, we’re going to have to chat later.”
With that, Derrek turned again to his computer.
On the way home the sky opened and dumped the first rain in weeks. It seemed to increase its intensity every few minutes, and by the time Allison reached the road that led to her neighborhood, she had her wipers on high. As she came to the first of three stop signs before she reached her house, her phone chirped.
Allison glanced down. Caller ID said it was Kayla. Allison hesitated only a second before answering.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Kayla said. “Been a while.”
“True.”
Neither spoke for a few seconds.
“Ally?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m thinking we should be friends again.”
“I’d like that.” Allison drove through the intersection and pulled over to the side of the road. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Good,” Kayla said. “Me too.”
“How’s it going with Mila?”
“Really well. Not as much fun as with you, and not as many fights.” Kayla laughed. “But I’m finally making some decent money. How ’bout you?”
“It’s been tough.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Allison stared at the passing red lights of the cars sloshing along the road.
“Derrek’s not what you thought?”
“No.” Allison sighed. “But you already knew who he really was.”
“You would have seen it too if you hadn’t already been friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“The computers.”
That was all Kayla needed to say. Instantly it was three and a half years earlier and Allison was on the phone with Derrek.
“How are things progressing for you and your new venture, Allison? About ready to hang out the shingle?”
“Just about. We’re doing well. Getting everything set up. Next step is to get a couple of more powerful computers.”
“I know you’ve been PC-based when working for other firms, but now that you’re starting your own, I highly recommend you transition to Apple.”
“Really?”
“Without question. They will serve you well in everything from design software to accounting to marketing.”
“You’re saying we should buy something like MacBooks?”
“Yes. They make an excellent product, carry an outstanding warranty, and the particular model of MacBook I’m recommending will have all the processing power you need to design with ease.”
“I appreciate the counsel. I’ll go to their website today and—”
“Tell you what. Let me take care of it for you. I have an order going in tomorrow, and I’ve purchased enough laptops and desktops from them that they are quite responsive with my orders. I’ll simply add two more computers to the order and you can pay me when the computers arrive.”
Neither she nor Kayla were scholars when it came to tech, so having someone put them on the right path out of the gate would be a big help.
“Wow, thank you, Derrek. That would be incredibly helpful.”
A week after that, Derrek emailed and said the computers had come in. Allison sent a check for the full amount. Two weeks later she fired up her new computers, but something didn’t seem right. She’d never worked with Macs, but she was surprised to see a number of files already in the documents folder. Files that shouldn’t be there. Like one containing a series of songs that she knew Derrek’s band played.
She called Derrek and said, “I think there might have been a mix-up. I found a few files on here and was wondering if maybe you sent us the wrong laptops.”
Derrek chuckled. “No, I should have warned you about that. I was setting up the laptops for you, making sure everything worked right, then I loaded your laptop with some software that I knew would help you, and I’m guessing in the transfer process a few files might have slipped on there along with the software without my knowledge. You can simply delete those files, no harm done.”
It wasn’t till a year later, when a repair shop had fixed an issue on her computer, that Allison learned the truth. Her computer was a year and a half older than it should have been. She hadn’t wanted to believe it. Derrek had taken the new computers and given her and Kayla his older models. She’d let it go. But she shouldn’t have.
“I saw it, Kayla. But I ignored it.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. I’m sure I would have done the same thing.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
They both went silent.
“Hang in there, Ally. Things are really crazy for me right now, but let’s get together this fall, all right?”
“Yes. I’d love to, K. You made my day.”
She hung up and smiled. It would take time, but she had little doubt they would be friends again, of the best variety.
Wednesday, July 24th
I just about lost it at work today. Master Spin Doctor of the Universe gave a talk on integrity at the staff meeting. The ultimate irony. Not quirky or funny irony, but the kind that makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs till my voice runs out. Doing the right thing. Doing what you say you’re going to do. Speaking from a place of truth in all that you say.
And then he ends with a story that he stole and justifies it to Renee and me when he overhears us talking about it in the lunchroom. Unbelievable.
Renee tried to push back. But of course she was shut down by the velvet hammer.
The man is the living embodiment of a lie. Does he even know it? Has no one shown him a mirror? Even then, would he see it? Are the others in the company blind, or do they simply swallow his fairy tales for the sake of their jobs?
I was tempted at so many points to dive in and offer commentary, but I can’t. Not yet. Have to take what money I can from my job. Even with Parker’s next batch of money—which should arrive soon, please—it’s not enough, but at least it’s something. But how long will they let us make partial payments?
Micah Taylor says a breakthrough is coming. When? I sure hope it’s looking at the calendar, ’cause we’re running out of days.
What are you doing, God? Don’t you think it’s time to let me in on the plan? I could start looking for another job, but how do I do that when I’ve signed a noncompete? Impossible.
Richard talks about dry bones and calling them to life, and about true selves that have slipped away believing again—but believing in what?
I’m tired. And I don’t see any light coming anytime soon.
Well, that’s not entirely true. Kayla called me on the way home. That was a bright spot. And very needed.
In the morning Allison checked the journal. No change. Same that night. She tried to reach Richard, but his phone went to voice mail. Believe? The last of her faith had almost vanished.
forty-four
SATURDAY MORNING ALLISON WENT FOR a run and took the journal with her. She’d ignored the pounding thoughts in her mind for two days. Enough. She had to start getting thoughts down, start making a plan for where her life would go from here. When she reached a secluded lookout on Tiger Mountain, she pulled out the journal and pen. But she didn’t write. Her last entry had changed.
Wednesday, July 24th
What are the dry bones?
What are your dry bones?
What are they, Allison?
She stared at the words. Never before had the journal addressed her directly. Words changing? Yes. She’d gotten used to that. Kind of. But this? A whole other level. But even that didn’t shoot adrenaline through her like the rest of the entry did.
As I listened to him speak, it was as if looking into a mirror, and I realized I am the living embodiment of a lie. I don’t live from a place of authenticity. I live in a place of fear. I don’t speak from a place of truth. I hide it because of what might happen to me. What I might lose. Because I want to be liked and thought well of. Why have I not seen this in the mirror of my life? Even now am I seeing the full truth of what I’ve become? Others in the company and in my life aren’t blind—why do I expect them to accept the false mask I wear?
When Derrek was speaking, I thought I was tempted at so many points to dive in and offer commentary, but even that’s a lie. If I had truly wanted to, I would have. The person I know I am deep inside would not have stayed silent. Not in the conference room. Not in Derrek’s office afterward. The true Allison would have spoken out.
I can use the excuse that Mom needs every penny I’m making, but there’s a deeper reason I didn’t speak out. I’m in fear. I don’t believe. I don’t trust God. And I don’t know who I am.
The dry bones need to be called to life or my true self will slip away forever. I believe now, and the light is coming. The light is coming. Now.
Allison stared at the page, at the words that had betrayed her. This was supposed to be God? Accusing her of not living an authentic life? Hadn’t she sacrificed everything over the past four months for her mom? She kicked at the rocks at her feet. Wasn’t what she’d given enough?
She read the entry again and screamed. Then she read it a third time and let the truth of the words seep inside. It was true, all of it. And as she accepted that truth, something deep inside stirred. The dry bones. And as they knit themselves together and began to take on life, words appeared on the page as she stared at it.
You have girded me with strength for battle;
You have subdued under me those who rose up against me.
Be strong and courageous.
The Lord will go forth like a warrior,
He will arouse His zeal like a man of war.
He will utter a shout, yes, He will raise a war cry.
He will prevail against His enemies.
The writing stopped for a moment, then started up again, faster this time.
The Lord your God is in your midst,
A victorious warrior.
He will exult over you with joy.
The Lord is a warrior;
The Lord is His name.
Great change is coming.
The writing stopped and a peace settled on Allison like she’d never known. And a fire burned inside that she knew well but had not experienced for a long time. Finally, a moment before she was certain the writing was through, one more line appeared in the journal.
Allison is a warrior, a daughter of the King, Allison is her name.
A puff of surprised laughter escaped her lips. She’d always known who she was but had been blind. The truth had been there all along. Her dry bones weren’t getting the partnership or getting her mom out of debt or even finding love again. All those things could come and go like the tide. But there was one thing that could never be shaken. One thing that was as everlasting as eternity. And it was at the core of her being. She was a warrior. Had always been one. Would always be one. And it was time for her to breathe life back into that warrior. Time for the bones to grow flesh around them. Time for flesh to rise and come alive. Time to banish fear from her heart, her mind, her soul, and allow the Spirit of truth to be her strength. Time for her to fight again. Time for her to be Allison Moore.
She knew what she had to do. Confront Derrek. And tell him the truth.
About everything.
forty-five
PARKER WOKE UP ON SOMETHING HARD, with pain shooting through his left shoulder and a cold chill swirling around his body. He reached for his blankets. Not there. Was he on the floor? He opened his eyes and blinked. That’s exactly where he was. He rubbed his shoulder. Must have landed on it when he fell out of his bunk. How’d that happen?
He glanced around the room, half expecting Logan to have tossed him out of the bunk before his alarm clock went off. But the true reason he lay there became evident a second later as the floor went from horizontal to almost vertical, then reeled back to almost vertical the other way. They were in the heart of a storm.
As his mind screamed for him to stay in his cabin, Parker pulled on his clothes and staggered out the door of his room and onto the deck. Torrential rain drenched him. Ocean spray shot over the side of the boat and pounded his face.
The deck shifted violently as the front of the boat dipped down at forty-five degrees, reached the bottom of a trough, then seesawed back up so the tip of the boat pointed at the lightning that flashed through the sky. Parker clutched at the nets just outside the wheelhouse door and searched for the others.
Dawson was in the wheelhouse wrestling with the wheel of the boat like it was a bull. Abraham was checking the fish holds to make sure they were locked down. Fredricks and Logan were nowhere in sight.
Parker stumbled toward Abraham, trying to figure out how he might help. As he did, Parker heard the groan of metal against metal and glanced up. No! The ship’s boom had come loose and streaked toward Abraham and him.
“Look out!” Parker dropped to the deck and whipped his gaze up toward Abraham. In that moment Parker realized crying out was the worst thing he could have done. If Abraham had stayed bent over, the boom would have gone right over him. But Parker’s call brought Abraham upright, and the boom cracked into his forehead the instant he stood and turned. He dropped to the deck like a cold-cocked heavyweight boxer. The boat heaved, and the boom lurched back and forth like a whip.
“What the—” A shout came from the front of the boat. Logan. He stumbled along the starboard side, gaze riveted on Abraham. He pointed at Parker, then Abraham. “Check him!”
As Parker scrambled on his knees over to Abraham, Logan’s low voice boomed, “Fredricks, get out here!”
Parker reached Abraham and squinted at his forehead. Cut and bleeding, but the injury wasn’t deep. Parker set his ear next to Abraham’s mouth. Thank God. He was breathing. A wave crashed over the boat and buried both of them.
“Get him over here!” Logan shouted as he staggered over the deck.
Parker nodded and tried to lift Abraham, but his boots slipped on the deck and he crashed onto his backside as Abraham slipped from his hands.
Logan’s voice again sliced through the rain. “What is your problem? Get him over here! Now!”
Dawson’s faint voice floated down from the wheelhouse toward Logan, but Parker caught the words. “Want me to help?”
“Do not leave that spot!” Logan jabbed his finger at Dawson. “Stay on the wheel.”
“Aye!” Dawson blinked rapidly, his face white.
Not good. Dawson was seasoned. If this storm scared him, they were all in serious trouble. Again, Parker grabbed Abe, but the man’s deadweight made him feel like he was made of concrete. Then Logan was beside him, lifting Abraham like he was a bag of foam. “Get below, Rook! You’re just a liability.”
Logan dragged Abraham back toward the wheelhouse. As Parker watched, the scene seemed to shift into slow motion. The sound of the waves and the stinging rain and the screams of the boat straining against the ocean all melded together into a rush of noise that made Parker’s head spin. He tried to steady himself to keep from being tossed back and forth across the deck. And he stayed low.
The boom. Oh no. Had Logan seen it was loose?
He whipped his head up just in time to see the boom streaking toward Logan’s head. At the last instant Logan threw up his arm to ward off the blow, but it was far too late to duck. Abraham fell to the deck as Logan was knocked across the boat. Momentum carried his body over the edge
, his hand groping for the railing. He snagged it. Yes! He hung there as Parker sprinted toward him, his hand and forearm the only things now visible. Then Logan’s fingers slipped and the captain was gone, over the edge, into the ocean.
forty-six
PARKER LURCHED FORWARD, HIS HANDS now clutching the railing where Logan had fallen into the thundering waves. The boat pitched and flung Parker to the deck. He landed on his right knee. Pain shot through his kneecap, but he ignored it and crawled back toward the railing.
“Dawson!”
No answer. Parker shouted as loud as he could. “Dawson!”
“What?” He barely heard the skiff man’s voice over the roar of the storm.
“Logan is overboard!”
“What?”
The boat pitched down at thirty degrees, and Parker grabbed at the nets to keep from sliding down the deck.
“The boom knocked him over!”
Parker pulled himself up and clutched at the railing again as his eyes raked the water for Logan. Nothing. But even if he was four feet from the boat, Logan would be difficult to see in the darkness.
“What is going on?” Fredricks finally staggered to Parker’s side.
Dawson twisted his head toward them and shouted instructions. “Get to the spot, you gotta light it up! Logan’s over!”
Fredricks scrambled up the ladder to the spotlight and Parker turned back to the dark water. The light swept the waves as Parker squinted against the rain and spray. C’mon, Logan. Yes! There he was, not more than fifteen feet from the boat. But a second later Logan went under as a wave buried him, his life jacket not enough to keep him afloat.
“No!”
Parker clutched the edge of the boat, willing Logan to surface. Two seconds passed. Three. Adrenaline surged through him. He had to do something. Fast. Didn’t matter that it was summertime. The Alaskan waters would suck the warmth out of Logan in minutes and drain his strength to stay afloat. The captain would kick off his boots, shed his coat to aid his mobility, but that would speed up the penetration of the cold into his extremities, then the core of his body. Not to mention the waves pounding down and tossing his body around like a waterlogged cork.