Exodus (9 page)

A shadow fell over her from behind.

Aria turned to find a man standing on the shore in a long robe, silhouetted against the morning sunshine.

Her wrist finally came free, and she cast the net into the waves. The ocean reclaimed it.

Aria watched it go. Then she took a step toward the man.

They stood silent for a moment together before Aria asked, “Am I going to be a fisher of men?”

“You are the fish, silly,” he replied with a smile.

Aria smiled through fresh tears.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you first.” He smiled wider.

“But my vision,” she said. “The plain with the army. Those poor people. Isn’t that what the net is for? To save them?”

“It is,” he said. He touched her chin gently. “But it is for you first of all.”

             
Aria opened her eyes and took a deep, gasping breath.

             
She couldn’t question anymore. That had really just happened. She had spoken with God. And he loved her.

             
She rolled over on her side. She felt very tired. Exactly as if she had been swimming.

The men in the living room were shuffling into the front hall and stepping out the front door without looking at one another. She could hear their cars turn on one by one and drive away into the dusty evening.

              Her mom came from the kitchen.

Aria sat up. Her parents stood gazing out the front door. Her father put an arm around her mother’s shoulders and drew her into a hug.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she said.

             
“Yeah, I think it might be the end,” he replied. “After all we’ve been through together.”

             
“We were
friends
,” her mom said quietly.

             
“I don’t know what friends are anymore,” her dad answered with a scowl.

Aria’s ears felt like they were full of water. She felt her way back to bed in the dark and pulled the covers over her head.

How can this be the end?
she thought.
I just found you! I want to tell them about you. Please don’t let it end this way.

Aria pressed her bedspread into her face. This could be the end of everything, not only of her church and her parents’ friendships, but her close-knit neighborhood. Everything she had known.

No,
she thought.
No, no. Why couldn’t I stop this? Why don’t you stop it if you care about us all so much? I don’t understand.

There was no answer. Aria finally let her eyes close. She felt a calm presence fill the room.

It was him. Even if she couldn’t see him, she knew him now. She could feel he was there.

“You are the fish,” he said again, more gently this time.

She drifted off to sleep with a shuddering sigh.

14

STILL WATERS

Aria was airborne again, falling through the rainbow-lined mist at the dark forest’s edge. Then her body met resistance. She plunged into cool water at the base of a waterfall. Bubbles streamed up past her ears as she dropped down deep in the clear pool where water thundered into a hole in the ground.

The water stayed clear above her: the black creatures had not followed her into the pool.

Aria rose with the current. She bobbed to the surface and gulped fresh air. She didn’t see any demons on the shore.

The water was pushing her downstream. It carried her swiftly away from the spray of the waterfall and the dark trees.

The river cut a winding ribbon of sunny air through the forest. Aria tucked her legs to her chest to avoid some boulders, but soon the rapids smoothed out into a wide, calm stream that carried her slowly downhill between quartz- and granite-lined riverbanks.

She let her limbs relax. She was floating over a riverbed so clean that the yellow and green stones at the bottom sparkled. The water took her through the trees on a path of soft sparkling light. Glittering cobwebbed pines reached out to the sun-bleached flies that buzzed overhead.

Soon the roar of the falls was replaced with the sounds of evening creatures stirring in the forest around her. The bubbling water gradually slowed and trickled out into a beautiful green delta in a wide valley.

Aria’s body came to rest on the sandy riverbed just above the delta.

From her position, she could see the valley opening up before her. The stream she sat in flowed into a larger river below, which was surrounded by lush grass that rippled in the wind like ocean waves. On either side of the valley, jagged volcanic rocks jutted up like fortress walls into a fiery evening sky.

Something glinted below in the sun.

Aria squinted. It appeared to be some sort of table with benches on either side.

She stood up and wrung out her clothes and hair as best she could. Aria then headed down toward the long table, shielding her eyes from the low sun. She picked her way down a narrow trail to the valley floor.

Just as she reached the waving grass, a sharp gust of wind flipped strands of damp hair around her cheeks, stinging her eyes. The sky turned dark, and the air around Aria quickly cooled. A shelf of clouds was overtaking the valley from the east, its upper edge laced with the fire of sunset.

The sky swirled overhead. The few evening stars that had started to twinkle in the dusk winked out behind the mass of clouds.

Then, a funnel cloud dropped from the sky directly onto the table that was now not more than fifty feet in front of Aria.

Aria crouched and held up her arms to protect her face from debris.

But the tornado wasn’t destroying the table. Instead, it was dropping things into vases and bowls along its length.

Aria lowered her hands and stared.

She could now see that the tornado was somehow filling the containers on the table with food. And they were delicious dishes, things she had always wanted to eat. There was roasted duck on a platter, and what looked like grape juice in silver goblets. Braided bread sat in heaps in large baskets, accompanied by bowls of rich, yellow butter. Aria saw a stuffed chicken drop into a dish, then cheeses and melon pieces arrayed themselves on a plate. Bowls of hot tomato soup steamed up the undersides of raised silver platters, onto which cakes smothered in pink frosting gently dropped.

Aria was no longer afraid. She headed through the waving grass to approach the table.

As she came near, the tornado lifted back up into the sky. The clouds dissipated. It was now a perfectly calm sunset.

Aria smoothed her tangled hair and tucked it behind her ears. She opened the lids of two decorative pots to find steaming mashed potatoes and fragrant pecan pie.

She soon realized that every pot she opened contained exactly what she had hoped to find in it, so she started wishing:
Hot chocolate with big marshmallows. Tacos with mango salsa!

While the final rays of the sun dipped behind the valley walls, Aria ate a little of this and a little of that until she was satisfied. Then she lay down on the bench and rested her feet in the cool grass. She watched the stars emerge from the darkening sky and listened to night creatures begin their peeps and calls.

He restores my soul,
she thought.

Aria woke up, so relaxed that she didn’t want to move.

She was sprawled under her covers with each arm extended to the sides of her bed. It felt so good.

“He restores my soul,” she heard the echo in her mind.

What is that from?

It was almost as if she could feel her mother lying next to her, ruffling her hair with her fingers. That same presence—his presence—was with her, filling her heart with so much love that she hardly dared to breathe so as not to frighten him away.

Aria slowly rolled her head over toward her nightstand, enjoying the cool cotton pillow under her cheek. Her eyes rested on the bookmark that sat on top of her Bible.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul,” she read. Psalm 23.

Aria reached for her Bible.

But something was stuck to her hands. Aria examined her fingers and found traces of pink frosting between them.

Her eyes teared up.

“The good dreams can be real too,” she said, addressing the ceiling with a smile.

She licked the sweet film off her hands slowly, savoring the flavor of summer strawberries.

When her hands were clean, Aria flipped her Bible open to read the rest of the verse: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,” it said, “for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Aria began to cry. She wiped her tears away and pulled her bedcovers up around her waist to form a little nest. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

“Well, you’re wrong about that one,” Aria said to the ceiling. She flopped onto her back, and a couple of tears dripped into her ears. “I’m going to be kicked out of your house if you don’t do something about it.”

But the words died on her tongue, and she lay in her bed for a long time, letting herself be comforted.

“Because you are my help,” Aria prayed, the Psalm coming alive to her as she spoke, “I sing in the shadow of your wings.”

For the first time, the disaster unfolding around Aria began to fade into the background, just as Mrs. Coghill had said it would. She only wanted to stay under his wings, forever. She only wanted his presence. It was enough.

15

SHOWDOWN

“There is a critical and divisive spirit trying to tear this body of Christ apart,” Pastor Ted warned the congregation. Aria’s father shifted restlessly next to her in their pew.

“We must stand together to protect God’s house—God’s people—against the influences of people who want to sow strife in this family just as their own houses are full of strife.”

Pastor Ted glared at Aria and her father. Aria looked away and squeezed her fists as tightly as she could in her lap.

Across the aisle, Tara followed Pastor Ted’s gaze to Aria and stared openly at her.

             
“The Bible warns of terrible consequences for apostates, those who fall away from their previously glorious calling in Christ!” Pastor Ted’s tone rose to fever pitch.

Aria could feel the coldness set in around her. She didn’t know where to look. She grabbed a Bible from the back of the pew in front of her and flipped it open so the onionskin pages rippled back and forth.

They landed on Jeremiah chapter 10: “Gather up your belongings to leave the land, you who live under siege. For this is what the Lord says: ‘At this time I will hurl out those who live in this land; I will bring distress on them so that they may be captured.’”

She shut the book.

Me or him?!
she thought.

             
Ms. Gail whispered to her husband. He nodded.

Phil Donagee was watching them closely, then abruptly he stood to his feet.

Pastor Ted paused, his finger still in the air, and glared at him.

“Excuse me,” Phil said, looking around, “but am I the only person who isn’t going to put up with this?”

The other members of the congregation gawked at him, mouths agape.

“How dare you! Sit down!” Ms. Nancy shouted. She struggled to stand to her feet and face Phil.

              “I’m sorry. I can’t take this anymore,” Phil Donagee continued, looking around at the congregation.  “I have been manipulated enough—into signing on to pay for a huge mortgage for this building when we can barely afford to pay Pastor Pervert’s salary here, into keeping my mouth shut as he played hanky panky with whores. I’m not going to let him smear Jim and Lily anymore, or impugn their perfectly lovely, perfectly
sane
daughter when she’s done nothing wrong—just to keep him from getting sued!”

             
The interruption became a standoff. Mr. Bob turned to face Phil: “This is a house of worship, and you will kindly respect our ordained minister and keep private issues private. Sit down, or leave the church now!”

             
Mrs. Stauffin reached out as if to stop the situation from spinning out of control, but it was too late.

             
Phil Donagee shuffled his way to the center aisle. He saluted Pastor Ted, clicked his heels together and pivoted to face the back of the church, throwing his suit jacket over his shoulder. He passed Aria and her parents, gave them a nod, and walked out of the building into the bright sunshine.

             
The congregation sat in stunned silence.