Dwellers of the Night: The Complete Collection (49 page)

They left the day before Fall Break and drove for hours, driving from Iowa to Pennsylvania. It was more wonderful than they could’ve imagined: after being cooped up in a city for several months, being out amongst the farms and the dirt roads and the smog-free skies—oh! the stars at night were mesmerizing!—was like entering another world. They arrived at the first motel at sunset and unloaded their bags. They sat outside around the pool and stared at the stars, holding hands.

“Do you ever think about how crazy it is?” Kristen mused.

Adrian didn’t understand. “Ever think about what being crazy?”

“I mean, God creates this gigantic universe with billions of galaxies and billions of stars and billions of planets. He creates this process called evolution and, using it like a paintbrush, He paints a beautiful masterpiece over the history of just one of these little planets. Eventually there arises, through His design, these monkey-like primates. He takes one of these primates and breathes a spirit. He makes a spiritual creature. He takes a creature with survivalist instincts—a creature whose very nature is rooted in selfishness and survival and getting food and sexuality—and says, ‘All right, get Anthony Barnhart

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moving. Become like Me.’” She shook her head, in a daze. “It’s just crazy, isn’t? The Great Dude in the Sky is crazy.”

They returned into the motel. They had booked two rooms at each motel, per Kristen’s request; he had obliged, though secretly he had hoped they could share a bed together. He kissed her goodnight and entered his room. With the absence of stress and worry, they both slept in well past noon. They checked out of the motel and continued on their journey through Amish country. Kristen was fascinated with the horse and buggies, fascinated by the men with and without beards, fascinated by the women and little girls in their bonnets; in appreciation of the little girls, she exclaimed, “Oh! They’re so cute! I can’t wait till I have a little girl.”

They ate lunch at an Amish diner; he got his favorite Amish dish, country-fried steak and mashed potatoes with toast. His girlfriend got steak and eggs. They watched chickens pluck at the ground outside the window, and they talked about the future—dreams and desires. He had already told her his greatest dream—to love and be loved—but she had never told him his. Sometimes it seemed like she felt hesitant to talk about her dream. She would often say that she didn’t have a dream. As they ate, he tried to get her to divulge what her dream was, but she kept insisting that she just took life as it came. He told her she was crazy and that she should tell him, but he was content with not knowing. “After all,” he said, “it’s not like we’re married. We’re still allowed to keep secrets.”

They drove through Amish country the rest of the day, witnessing a Barn-raising and marveling at the young kids at work in the fields. “You just have to love the Amish,” Adrian said. “I mean, they’re so simple. They’re so humble and simple. A simple life… There, Kristen, there’s a good dream to have.”

She smiled. “I like simplicity. I like snuggling up in quilts beside a fire.”

“Like we did at my house a few months ago?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yes. Yes, that was wonderful.”

That night they were too tired to do much, so they simply hugged, kissed, and went to sleep. They set their alarms to wake early in order to grab the famous Amish-style breakfast the motel hosted. The bacon was crispy and delicious, the “sunshine” eggs gooey and runny, and the toast with honey-jam was the best toast Kristen had ever eaten. She said, “It’s even better than Lee’s Famous Recipe’s biscuits.”

“Really?” Adrian had asked. He tried one. His taste buds went ablaze. “No kidding!”

They had a picnic for lunch out on a hill overlooking much of the surrounding farmland. They both leaned against a lonely tree and talked for hours. “This is the life, isn’t it?” Adrian asked.

“Nothing to do, no cares in the world, just the two of us, alone, submerged in nature.

“God’s unspoiled creation,” Kristen said. “There’s no smog, there’s hardly any automobile pollution because the Amish use buggies… It’s like a snapshot in the agricultural age before the industrial revolution. It’s like… I don’t know…” Her eyes sparkled like dew-speckled rubies as she looked at him. “It’s like this is how God meant life to be lived. Tilling the land, lost in Him and immersed in genuine community.”

“Yeah,” Adrian commented. “The industrial revolution screwed things up.”

“We’ve forgotten what’s important,” Kristen said. “We’ve forgotten the simplicities of life. We’ve become so enamored with materialism that we’ve forgotten the value and goodness of generosity. We’ve become so focused on ourselves when we should be focused on God. Focused on friends.” She cupped his hand in hers. “Focused on family.”

When she said that—when she looked at him and said
family
in that charmingly seductive voice of hers—he felt something inside him break. He realized that, finally, he did not just have a girl
friend
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He and Kristen transcended the bounds of mere dating. She was such a part of his life that he could claim her as family; and not just claim her as family, but know—in his heart, mind, and soul—that she
was
family. And the fact that she saw him likewise—it melted his heart. He wasn’t just in Amish country with a friend. This was a family trip. Maybe not a family trip in the technical sense of the word—for she was not united with him by birth, by adoption, nor through marriage of any kind—

but family in a
spiritual
sense. There was connection,
real
connection, unimagined—and it was the connection that united them.

As they were driving to the next motel, somehow they ended up with a flat tire. She was able to navigate her car to the nearest town, though more than once they almost ended up in the drainage ditches beside the road. She pulled it in to a mechanic who gave the cost of the wheel replacement. It completely threw their plans for the rest of the couple days. While it wasn’t extremely pricey—seeing the innocence in the kids’ eyes, and being a considerably gentlemanly man, he had not overcharged—

it forced them to make a few cutbacks. They did not eat out that night as planned, and when they entered the next motel, they could only afford one room.

The girl behind the counter smiled and gave them the key. “Have fun, you two.”

A knot formed in Adrian’s throat. “No, you don’t understand… We’re not…”

Kristen said, “We’re not like that. I mean, we just don’t…”

The girl laughed and said, “Well, you got your room. Do with your night what you want.”

“Umm… Thanks,” Adrian said, and they headed down the corridor.

∑Ω∑

They stand together now, all eyes upon them. They face Harker, who is dressed in his Sunday Best, scavenged from the wedding shop just as Adrian and Rachel’s clothes had been. He holds in his hand a small leather book he had found in the friar’s office, and he speaks slowly and with passion.

“Friends, we have come today at the invitation of Rachel Huntsmen and Adrian Ryan, to share in the joy of their wedding. This outward celebration we shall see and hear is an expression of the inner love and devotion they have for one another in their hearts.”

Harker smiles at the soon-to-be-wed and continues. “Jesus Christ reminds us that at the beginning, the Creator made us male and female, and said, ‘For this cause a man shall leave his father and mother and shall cleave to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’”

Adrian notices one of the girls in the front row, sitting beside Carla, squirm.

“God loved us,” Harker continues, “and He created us to love others. Our lives find completion only as we love and are loved in return. Together, we can become what we could never be separately. Marriage is of God. Rachel Huntsmen and Adrian Ryan come together desiring to be united in this sacred relationship.”

∑Ω∑

They set their bags down and Kristen unlocked the door; they pushed it open and saw a single bathroom, a long coffee-table with a television on top of it, a single window with lowered blinds, and two twin-sized beds. He threw his bags to one side of the long coffee-table and, taking her bags for her, put them on the other side. He asked her what bed she wanted, and she chose away from the window. She said she was going to use the bathroom, so he sat down and flipped through the channels. Every other channel showed two couples rubbing up against each other and kissing, and HBO was showing ONE HOUR PHOTO, and the scene just happened to be the one where Robin Anthony Barnhart

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Williams walked in on the couple fucking in the hotel. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple squirming, and he shut off the television. “Enough of that,” he said under his breath. Kristen came out of the bathroom. “Okay, so how are we going to do this?”

“Do what?” he asked quickly, heart beginning to race.

She bit her lip. “Umm… Well, I was talking about showers…”

We can shower together
. The moment the thought came into his mind, he felt his face blush. “Oh. Well.”
Ask her. Ask her if she wants to take her shower with you. It’s not like she’ll say no
. His insides burned. “You go ahead. I’ll take one when you get done.”

“Okay,” she said, and after grabbing her stuff, she locked herself in the bathroom.
You can still ask
. That insidious voice! He shook his head and opened the door to the patio. He slipped outside and found himself in the pool area. There was an older couple in the hot tub making out. The vision not only disgusted him—for they were surely in their fifties—but drew his imagination to forbidden haunts. He took a walk around the pool; the couple felt intruded upon, but he spent money to rent this pool as well so he was going to take a walk. He felt his burning lust for Kristen gaining control, and he knew he could not fight it. He continued walking, fighting it off, and slowly it dissipated. His nerves waned. His fibers calmed themselves down. His heart returned to its sluggish pace. He stopped in his tracks and looked up into the Pennsylvania sky. Gentle clouds floated over the stars, but some still shone down upon him. A cool breeze reached into the pool deck, ruffling his wild and curly hair. He returned to the door to their room, nodding a silent
Hello
to the couple in the hot tub. He entered the room and shut the door, and as he lowered the blinds he could see the couple exchange a few words before going back at it. He hoped that, as gross as it seemed now, there would still be that kind of romantic spark in him and whoever
she
was when he was-“Where have you been?” she asked. He spun around, surprised at her voice. He hadn’t seen her in the chair in the corner of the room. A white hotel robe was wrapped around her, and she was combing her hair. She had tied the sash around her waist, yet part in the robe revealed spots of her thigh. His eyes were immediately drawn to her legs, but he refused to let them remain there. Yet then his eyes took themselves to her hands, her arms, and again he moved his eyes. Finally he just saw her own eyes, those dove gems that wooed him. “You scared me,” he said, standing beside the door.

“I know,” she said. “I saw you jump.”

He found himself at a loss for words, something that had never happened. “So… Is the water warm?”

“It’s nice,” she said.

“Good,” he said. He walked past her and peered into the bathroom. “Wow, I guess it
was
warm. You steamed up the glass.”

“Yeah, I like hot showers. Is there anything good on television?”

“Umm… Not particularly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

“Okay…” A long pause. He found a towel, and she asked, “So what are we going to do tonight?”

“What do
you
want to do?” he asked. He was so thankful he was feeling
normal
again.

“I don’t know. Maybe read or something?”

“That sounds good.”

“Maybe we could order pizza?”

“I thought you were watching your figure?” he asked whimsically.

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“Oh, come on, Baby, we’re on vacation!”

He froze in the bathroom. He asked her through the wall, “Did you just call me ‘Baby’?”

She laughed. “So what if I did? I can stop, if it bothers you.”

“No, no, it doesn’t bother me. It was just… An interesting choice of words.”

“So are you taking a shower?”

“Yeah.” He shut the door.
Don’t lock it
. He ignored the voice and locked it, even making sure it was locked. The water was warm and he let it run over his body. He quickly soaped up and washed his hair. The water felt amazingly good. He called out from the shower, “They have a swimming pool here: maybe we can swim?”

“I just showered!” she hollered back. “Maybe in the morning!”

He finished and stepped out, realizing that he had no clean clothes. “Are there anymore robes?”

he called through the door, water dripping all over the floor as he ran the rough towel over his arms, legs, and chest.

“There should be,” she said. “Look in the overhead compartment. Do you see it?”

He opened it up. “Yeah. Thanks.” He wrapped it around his waist and left the bathroom. He told her, “That
was
warm.” She smiled at him; he thought it might have been a nervous smile. Why was she nervous? he wondered. She was now in the bed, snuggled up in the covers. He crawled into his own bed; part of him wanted to crawl in hers, and if she flipped out, make a joke out of it. But he knew better than that. He pulled the covers up close and felt good about it. They were in their separate beds. Half the battle was over.

There was silence for the longest time.

Kristen asked, “So there’s nothing on television?”

“Nothing worth watching,” he said. “Do you know the time?”

“It’s about ten thirty,” she said.

“Wow. That’s early.”

“I know.”

Silence. How could silence be so awkward?

“Well,” he said. “I guess we should sleep.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said quietly.