Текст книги "Water Walker"
Автор книги: Ted Dekker
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EPISODE THREE
16
HAVING MADE the decision to accept Paul’s invitation to meet him in the field, I could think of nothing else. Actually, as I thought about it, I hadn’t so much made a decision as given myself permission, because I could now. I was no longer a young child under the thumb of my mother’s every wish. I had become an adult, and with that came a new kind of freedom.
Mother would say that I was in a state of denial, that place she often accused me of being when I wasn’t readily aware of my sinful thoughts. That I wasn’t feeling guilty about my plan to see Paul because my desire had blinded me.
But I wasn’t blinded. In fact, I was seeing more clearly now than ever. I had faced my fears and I had walked on water so to speak, even if it was only in a dream. Well, I was going to walk some more, right down to the field at four o’clock during my free hour. I would see Paul because seeing Paul was what I wanted.
I must have looked at the clock a hundred times that morning and through the afternoon as I counted down the hours. Never before had my daily rituals or household chores seemed so tedious.
Mother was in an exceptionally good mood, which made perfect sense—she had just come into a small fortune, so when I asked if I could take Bobby to the field during my free hour she gave permission with only a small warning to be careful. I found Bobby playing in his room, and we were out the door before Mother could change her mind.
Bobby kicked rocks as we walked the gravel road toward the field. The day was still hot and the air thick, but I couldn’t have cared less. My heart felt light and for the first time in a while the world seemed new. Hopeful.
He ambled ahead of me and sang so loudly that he startled a flock of birds in a nearby tree. With a loud rush of wings they took flight and disappeared into the dense cover of the swamp.
I laughed, which only made him want to sing louder.
“Bobby Joe, he played three! He played knick-knack in a tree. Knick-knack patty smack, dig the dog a bone! He wants his treats so he’s swimmin’ home!”
He turned around, smiled, and swept his arms through the air with a flourish. “He wants his treat so he’s swim . . .ming . . .home!” He held the last note as long as he could, then beamed, toothy grin spread wide. “Wanna hear it again?”
I laughed. “On the way home, okay? After we’re done at the field.”
“Okay!” he said and pointed to the path just ahead on the left. I could see the field from where I stood and, there sitting in the middle of it, was Paul. “Race you!”
Bobby broke into a hobble-sprint, arms pumping, his clumsy feet kicking up dust as he went. I followed close behind and ran through the short patch of wild grass separating the field from the road.
“I won!” he said and lifted his arms high into the air as I pulled to a stop beside him.
“You’re fast,” I said, but my attention was on Paul who was waiting for me no more than fifty feet away. He was sitting on a checkered blanket he’d spread in the grass.
He stood and waved.
“Hi, Paul!” Bobby yelled and waved back.
“Bobby,” I said, “I’m going to talk to Paul, okay?”
I didn’t want to be rude to Bobby. Having him along was the only reason Mother gave me permission to come to the field. I couldn’t simply abandon him to play alone while I talked with Paul. Yet, I wanted nothing more than to sit on that blanket by Paul’s side. Alone.
“I’d really like to talk with him privately for a few minutes. Is that all right with you? Then we can all talk together. Okay?”
“Okay. Can I climb the tree?” He stared at a large maple to his right.
Mother wouldn’t have approved, Bobby was better at falling out of trees than he was at staying in them. “I don’t know . . .” Then again, it would occupy him. But then I spotted a turtle making its way through the thick grass ten feet away and I pointed it out.
“Look!”
His eyes went wide and he ran for the creature. “A red-eared slider. Wow. Can I play with him?”
“I tell you what, you wait here and watch the turtle while I talk to Paul. After I’m done we’ll take him down to the lake. Deal?”
He chewed his lower lip and nodded his head, eyes fixed on the turtle. “Deal.”
He sat cross-legged in the grass and began to trace his finger over its shell.
Others thought Bobby was simple, but that’s what I loved about him. He saw the world like a child. Nothing was complicated; everything was fascinating, even a turtle, even though he’d seen a thousand or more.
“I won’t be long,” I said and looked toward Paul. “I promise.”
“Okay,” he said, but he was already transfixed with his new friend.
I took a deep breath, smoothed my dress, and started walking toward Paul. With each step my heart thumped louder and harder, just like it had when I stepped out of the boat the first time. No, it was more than that. This was joy and fear and something else I only felt when I was with Paul—something I couldn’t explain.
I couldn’t help but smile as I came closer. Paul was wearing a blue button-down shirt with khaki pants and black work boots. When I saw his eyes, a tingle spread through me. He wasn’t simply looking at me. He was staring like I was the only other person in the world.
My heart was flirting with temptation, I knew that much was true.
I stopped at the edge of the blanket and looked into Paul’s eyes. He took a step toward me and smiled. The summer breeze brushed his hair across his face. A wave of nervousness washed over me and I could hardly breathe.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I hoped you’d come,” he said.
“Here I am.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” I said softly.
Neither of us said anything for a moment.
“Oh, hey . . . want to sit down? I brought a blanket.”
“I can see that.”
“Yeah, I guess you can.” He scratched the back of his neck, his only nervous tic. “Kinda stupid pointing out the obvious, huh?”
“No, it’s nice. Thoughtful.” I settled onto the blanket and nervously arranged my dress over my legs as he sat across from me.
We were both quiet and just looked at each other for a while. It was strange how Paul and Bobby were the only people I felt like I could simply be with and not feel like I had to fill the silence with small talk.
Paul smiled and fidgeted with his hands.
“What?” I said. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“You look nice. I like your dress.”
“You’re just trying to flatter me.”
“Maybe a little,” he said. “Is it working?”
“A little.” My face got hot and I knew I was blushing.
The wind blew gently, bending the taller grass near the far edge of the field. Paul and I had spent time together before, but this seemed different. We weren’t kids anymore, simply passing the time with games and stupid things while the adults did the important things of life.
“I brought you something,” I said and reached into the deep pocket Mother had sewn into my skirt.
Paul’s attention went to the small package of brown paper and twine that I’d handed to him. “What’s this?”
“Just something I made for you. It’s not much, but . . .”
“Really?” He peeled the paper away and unwrapped the straw doll that I’d made for him the other day. His eyes went wide.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
He cradled it in his hands. “I love it.”
“You do?”
“You made it, so I love it. Thank you. I’ll keep this forever and think about you every time I see it.”
“I hope so,” I said. And I meant it.
We talked for a half hour as the sun sank lower in the sky. We talked about what we liked and didn’t like about living in the swamps, how I loved math and how he hated it. How his father wanted to bring him into the moonshining business even though Paul didn’t want to.
“Well, what are you going to do then?” I asked.
“I’m going to be in a rock band.”
“Rock band?” I asked. “Does your father even allow you listen to that kind of music? Mother never lets us listen to anything other than that old gospel music.”
“He lets me when my mom’s not around. My dad says the music he grew up with was the last time rock and roll was good. He lets me listen to all of his old records—Led Zeppelin, Queen, the Eagles. I’m even learning to play the guitar.”
There was a long pause in the conversation and he scooted closer. “I thought about you all day, Eden.”
I hesitated. “I thought about you too.”
“Really?” He blinked.
“You seem surprised.”
“Well, a little bit. What’d you think about? I mean, when I crossed your mind.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Little things, I guess. It’s stupid. Forget it.”
“No, tell me. Just one thing.”
“One thing?” I said.
He held up one finger. “Just one, then I won’t ask anymore. Promise.”
I fidgeted with the blanket. “All right then. This morning I thought about how you kind of snort when you laugh really hard.”
“I don’t snort.”
“You do. A little, but it’s cute.”
“I must get it from my mom.”
I laughed. “I think you’re right. I’ve always liked it, though.”
“If you like it then I’m happy. What else?”
“You said one thing.”
“C’mon, just one more. Please,” he said. “Then I’ll tell you something I like about you.”
I looked at him and smiled. “Well, there’s the way you make me smile. You always know what to say to me. No one else treats me like you do. It’s . . . nice. Besides Bobby, you’re my only real friend. You accept me for who I really am.”
“Liking you is easy. You’re perfect, Eden.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t say that. I’m not.”
“Maybe not in your mind.” He gently placed his hand on top of mine. “But you are.”
The warmth of his skin against mine sent a shock up my arm and through my whole body. I drew a short breath. For a moment I felt like that one touch would send me soaring on the wind and high into the sky.
“Would your father approve of you holding my hand?” I asked.
Paul’s eyes shifted to the tree line. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He had a far-off look when he said it. So he was here without his father’s knowledge. He had taken his own risks to be here with me.
His fingers lingered across the back of my hand. I knew he was as nervous as I was because I could feel the slight tremor in his hands. “Do you see me as more than a friend?”
I hesitated. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a dam that was held together by a single pebble, and I was about to kick it loose. I wanted nothing more than to do just that no matter what might happen because of it.
“I don’t know. I think so.”
His eyes searched mine. His mind was churning, I could practically hear it. But what was he thinking? What if he didn’t really like me too?
“Yes,” I said. “I like you.”
Paul smiled and squeezed my hand. “You know I like you too. I kinda think of you as my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. I liked the sound of that.
I turned my hand over until my palm pressed against his, and I held his hand. Wrong or not, I felt something special for Paul and I wanted him to know it. But only him.
“Girlfriend,” I said. “What does that mean? I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend before. And what does it mean that you’re my boyfriend?”
Paul caressed my hand with his thumb. “It means we’ll be here for each other. Always. I’ll protect you and think about you. Just you, no one else.”
I smiled. “I like that idea.”
“We’re growing up, Eden. No one can stop that, not your mother or my father. Even they know that part of growing up is loving someone.”
I stopped. Looked him in the eye. “Love?”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Have you?”
I shook my head slowly.
“How else do you describe it?” he said.
“I don’t know. But love, it seems—”
“It seems right, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
In that instant I’d kicked the pebble away and now joy crashed through the dam like I’d never felt before. Joy that I don’t think could have any other name but love, and not in the way Mother or Father loved me. But it wasn’t just happiness that spilled out. It was fear too. Mother would eventually find out. She would know how Paul felt and how I felt about him. What would happen then?
“Eden!” Bobby yelled from the tree line. He held his turtle high over his head. “Can we take the turtle to the lake now?”
How long had we been there? “I’ll be there in just a minute, okay? Then we’ll go to the lake.”
“When can I see you again?” Paul asked.
I turned to Paul and held his hand tighter. “I don’t know.”
“Tomorrow. You always have the free hour at four, right?”
“But my mother—”
“Won’t have to know why you came. Did she know today?”
“No,” I said.
“See. As long as we’re careful no one will know. If no one knows then why can’t we see each other?”
I released his hand and stood to my feet. “All right. Tomorrow, a little after four. I’ll probably have to bring Bobby.”
“Eden!” Bobby yelled.
“I’ve got to go. Mother will come looking for us if we’re not back soon.”
Paul stood and took my hand again. “I’ll be thinking about you tonight.”
“I’ll think about you too.”
“Do you promise?”
“Promise.”
He took a step closer until his body brushed against mine, then leaned close and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”
I closed my eyes as his warm lips lingered on my skin. I was sure my heart would explode just then. Nothing else mattered and the world fell away. There was only Paul and me. And his kiss.
He stepped back and gently wiped his thumb on my cheek where he’d kissed me. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I said softly. But inside I was singing at the top of my lungs.
17
MOTHER HAD always told me that the reason we ended and started each week with a ritual baptism was to, once again, get rid of the old and make all things new. That’s why every Sunday morning Mother, Wyatt, Bobby, and I would gather in the holiness shed, as Mother called it, and drown me. That’s why Mother would lay seven straps against Bobby’s bared back. That’s why she would recite scripture, and rejoice after our sin was properly dismissed through the lamb and goat.
I was the lamb and Bobby was the goat, because I was born beautiful and Bobby was born ugly, she said.
I always felt much cleaner after baptisms each Sunday, glad to be rid of all of our sin. However much I hated the thought of being held under water until I was sure I was going to drown, I loved the feeling of being saved even more. The first few hours following my cleansing were always the happiest hours of my week, if only for the peace that purification brought me. We all felt it. Manna from heaven, Mother called it. Euphoria from God.
But none of that had prepared me for the exhilaration that had swept me away in the field with Paul the previous afternoon. I spent the rest of the evening and the following morning walking as if I were on a cloud, heart throbbing with feelings I hardly knew existed.
Though I tried, I couldn’t hide my excitement from Mother. But she was in quite a good mood herself and thankfully didn’t press beyond a question or two as to why I went about with a smile on my face, humming.
I felt a little guilty for keeping my love for Paul to myself—after all, I had vowed to tell Mother if I was ever even tempted to be romantic with anyone.
But I was eighteen now, you see? That gave me certain rights. I was old enough to handle my guilt directly with God and not through my mother. And I didn’t think he minded that I was in love with Paul.
That’s what it was, right? Love. The thought made me dizzy. And if just a small kiss on my cheek felt like heaven, I wondered what being married to Paul would feel like. Didn’t all girls my age think about marriage? They must, surely, and God had created marriage so he must not mind.
I couldn’t remember a time when the whole family had been so happy. Bobby was happy because I was happy. Wyatt was happy because Kathryn was happy. Kathryn was happy because Zeke was happy. Zeke was happy because God had blessed us all with a lot of money, or so I figured.
Mother was in such a good mood, in fact, that when I told her I was going to go for a walk alone during my free time, she only gave me a word of caution to stay clear of any trouble and seemed satisfied with my assurance that I would.
That was how I ended up on the gravel road for the second day in a row, this time without Bobby, who was occupied with building a miniature fort out of small wood blocks in his room. It was about ten minutes after four and I was a bundle of nerves, mostly good ones.
Taking that quarter of a mile walk all alone was unnerving, sure—the swamps were on either side and there was no one to warn me of any danger, like an alligator. But again, it was only like stepping out of the boat. I was a water walker now, wasn’t I? That meant facing my fears to reach the shore.
But this time that shore was Paul and my stomach was full of butterflies. Good butterflies. Wonderful ones that made me lightheaded with exhilaration. It was strange how only a few days ago I had tortured myself for the very thoughts that now excited me so much. It was like a dam had burst and suddenly my life was flooded with newness.
I imagined the man from my dream would approve, even if he was just a figment of my imagination. Or maybe my true self, speaking some truth into myself.
The edge of the field came into view and I picked up my pace.
If the Outlaw could see me now, he would say, “Jika jika jawa, Eden! Look at you go!”
And what would Mother say? But I already knew the answer to that, didn’t I? She didn’t like . . .
I saw the big black truck then, sitting out in the middle of the field, and I stopped cold. Zeke’s truck.
My heart began to pound like a fist. I quickly glanced along the tree line, but didn’t see Paul. Only Zeke, sitting behind the steering wheel, watching me.
My first thought was to run, because Zeke could only mean trouble. He’d come to punish me.
But that thought left as soon as it came, because I’d never been the kind to run from anything. I’d learned to face whatever was in front of me—it was better to pay the price than invite even more trouble.
Besides, who was to say that Zeke being here was trouble? Sure, the man made me cringe because I knew that he was the closest thing to God on earth and God always made me cringe. But maybe Zeke had come to thank me for my blessing.
That’s what I told myself as I started toward the truck, too afraid to dare think anything else.
The driver’s door swung open when I was twenty yards from the truck, and I stopped again, feeling totally exposed.
You shouldn’t have come, Eden. You see what happens when you cross the line?
There was still no sign of Paul—only Zeke, who slowly climbed out of the truck, dressed in black slacks and a black button-down shirt. He didn’t look at me. He just walked around the crew cab to the back passenger door, and opened it. Then reached in and gave a hard yank.
Paul stumbled out of the truck, held up by Zeke who gripped his collar. I recognized him by his body and his hair but not by his face because it was swollen and bruised.
The blood drained from my face and I suddenly felt as though I was going to throw up. Paul’s right eye was swollen, and there was a gash on his cheek, dried shut with blood.
He’d been beaten. Badly. His father had discovered our secret and had punished him. In the space of one breath, my whole world came crashing down around me because I knew that I had done this to Paul.
Zeke hauled Paul toward me, still holding him up by his collar as if he was nothing more than one of my straw dolls. He stopped by the front of the truck, eyes now burning a hole through me.
Paul was staring at the ground with his one good eye.
“Take a good look, Eden.” Zeke’s voice was calm and cut straight to my heart. “I can’t say that I’m surprised by Paul; he always was a rebellious little turd. But I’m deeply disappointed that you so fall so easily.”
I felt myself shrinking away to nothing under his glare. Guilt, the kind that made me feel like a worm, wiped away all of the courageous thoughts that had filled me with such happiness just a few minutes earlier. In that moment, I hated myself. It was all my fault. I should have known better.
Zeke jerked Paul backwards, nearly off his feet.
“Get back in the truck.”
Paul stumbled toward the cab, limped around the open door, and disappeared inside. He’d been too afraid to even look at me. I lifted my eyes to take in Zeke’s hard stare as he strode toward me.
He’s going to do the same to you, Eden. He’s going to punish you and he should.
Zeke stopped within arm’s reach, towering above me.
He’s going slap you hard and hurt you bad.
But as I stared up into his eyes, ready for what I deserved, his face softened. His mouth formed a thin line—a half-smile.
He lifted his hand and gently brushed my hair back from my face. “You’re a very pretty girl. I wouldn’t think of hurting you.” He paused. “No. No, that wouldn’t do.”
Zeke lowered his hand.
“Do you know why I punished Paul?”
I didn’t think I could talk; my throat was in a knot.
“Please don’t be rude, Eden. Answer me when I speak to you.”
I tried to tell him, but had to clear my throat. When I did speak, my voice sounded distant and frail.
“Because he disobeyed you.”
“And why is that a problem?”
“It’s disobeying God.”
“That’s a good girl. You see? You do know better.” He paced to his right, hands held loosely behind his back. Mine were trembling by my sides. I was already shutting down my mind—I had long ago learned that it was the easiest way to endure what couldn’t be avoided.
“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Is that how a child of God returns their gratefulness for his blessing?”
He paced back to his left, eyes back on me.
“No, I don’t think so. Clearly, you need to be reminded of a few things. The first is that I know everything that happens. Everything. There’s nothing wrong with an innocent kiss, now is there? But breaking a rule isn’t innocent. One rule becomes two and before you know it, you’re burning with the rest of them. But you already know that, don’t you, Eden?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.” He flashed a grin. “You see, already you’re breaking more rules. So let me put this in very simple terms for you. Without me, you would be nothing. I gave you your life back and provided a way for you to bless us all in a very significant way. But with great blessing comes great responsibility. You, of all people, know that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I trusted you, Eden. I entrusted you with my son, thinking it would be a nice gift on a day of such blessing, knowing that you would never break the rules. And yet here we stand.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. I felt like dropping to my knees and begging his forgiveness.
“I . . . I won’t do it again. I promise . . .”
“No, of course you won’t. You won’t see him again until I’ve determined that you know your place.”
“Yes, sir.”
The thought of not seeing Paul again struck a new fear in my heart.
“I’ve decided not to tell your mother of your indiscretion. God knows she wouldn’t take it well. So we’ll keep this between us. Consider it my small gift to you, however undeserved.”
A measure of relief washed through me.
“Thank you, sir.”
“But if you so much as take one misstep in the next thirty days, that changes. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t be so selfish, Eden. Think about the rest of us for a change. You saw what happened to Paul. Think of your mother. Think of me. Think of God.” He eyed me, steadfast. “Think of Bobby.”
I could not mistake his veiled threat. If I disobeyed, he would hurt Bobby.
I think something deep in me snapped then, thinking of Zeke laying his hands on Bobby. It was just a subtle shift, but I felt a small part of my guilt turn to anger.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re surrounded on all sides by swamp and alligators—the only way out is by my good grace. Earn it and maybe one day I’ll give it to you. In the meantime, you will be a good little girl and follow your mother to the letter as God has instructed you to do. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Zeke looked at me as if trying to decide whether or not he could trust me. Not just a moment or two, but a silent spell that stretched out until I thought he might change his mind and punish me anyway.
When he spoke, his tone was soft.
“Have you ever seen one of those pictures of a shepherd carrying a lamb around his neck? A soft white lamb over the shoulders of a strong caretaker in a brightly colored robe.”
I’d seen one of Jesus like that.
“Yes.”
“What most don’t realize is that the shepherd has an errant lamb on his back. One that tried to break out of the flock and in so doing lead others astray. So, if the shepherd is good, he does them all a favor. He breaks the lamb’s leg so that it can’t go astray. That’s why he’s carrying the lamb around his neck.”
Zeke’s right brow arched.
“When you get tempted to feel sorry for yourself, think of that lamb, Eden. All that I do, I do in yours and the flock’s best interest. Can you accept that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Consider this your final warning.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He reached into his jacket pocket, withdrew the straw doll that I’d given to Paul, and calmly twisted the head off as I watched. Then he dropped it on the ground, broken and torn.
“Paul won’t be needing this anymore,” he said.
And he left me like that, staring after him with my doll at my feet.
