Exodus, page 8
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.
A whispering began, and the people in the back craned their necks to see Phil Donagee get into his pickup truck with the AIR FORCE bumper sticker and peel out of the parking lot.
Jesse and Josiah snickered and shifted in their seats.
The Stauffins whispered fiercely to each other over Jenny’s head. Jenny looked to Aria and raised her eyebrows, but Aria just shook her head. She turned back to see Pastor Ted glaring at her again.
This time she stared him down. So this was how it was going to be.
“Everyone, please calm down,” Mr. Stauffin said. He stood and exchanged glances with Mr. Bob. “I would like to apologize on behalf of Phil, who has been under a lot of strain lately. The fact is that we’ve been considering his resignation from the elders’ board for a while now, though we didn’t want it to end like this. He—.”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Aria’s dad said through gritted teeth. He stood to his feet, which stopped Mr. Stauffin cold.
Aria’s mom stood up, too. Aria went before them as they slid out of their pew and walked down the aisle and out of the church.
The church exploded in shouting as they closed the door behind them.
“Shouldn’t we have said something?” Aria’s mom asked her dad.
“What difference would it make? They’re going to crucify us no matter what,” he replied. “They already have.”
“I know, but not everyone knows what’s really going on,” Aria’s mom said, pointing back at the front door.
“They’ll believe whatever they want to believe,” he said.
They reached the car.
“Get in,” he added, then softened when he saw his wife cringe. He came around to the passenger door to hug her.
“The truth will out,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “We’ve done our part.”
She slid into the car. She looked totally spent.
Aria fell into her seat and bent over the one beside her. Her heart felt like it was literally tearing inside her chest.
This is the way out? This can’t be how it ends! she thought. They’re just going to twist this to fit their lies, and no one else will ever know the truth!
Her dad drove out onto the main road and sped away from the church.
Why? she thought. Why did it have to be this way?
“Why did they do this?” Aria cried into the seat.
Her mother let out a sob. She reached over the seat to grab Aria’s hand.
“Pure, ugly jealousy!” she spat back at the church receding in the back window. “That’s all it was.”
Aria’s dad ground his teeth.
“Maybe God gave you that dream just to show us all what fools we really are,” Aria’s mom cried. “Could we have handled it any worse?”
No, Aria thought. But what could we have done differently? She thought of her vision of the people on the desert plain, and the fishing net that seemed to hint at a destiny intimately tied up with helping people find the truth she had found about God. She felt sick. Had she failed? It all felt so impossible. And now, was it too late to go back? Just like that, it had all fallen apart.
16
THE SECRET PLACE
A bird spiraled high in the sky above Aria, who lay in the sunny field of dandelions on the park lawn. The other neighborhood children were still in church. Now she came here on Sunday mornings, to rest.
“I want to fly, up to where you are,” she sang softly. “I want to come, closer to your heart.”
What was the chorus? She hummed it and then the words came. With closed eyes she relived her bliss on the church floor after the preacher had touched her face.
“You are mine, and I am yours, forever,” she repeated softly. “Forever.”
She imagined a golden staircase curving up from the field to the clouds. In her mind she got up from the grass and walked to the base of the stairs. She felt that gentle presence that had hugged her during the revival service. She wasn’t sure if she was sleeping or awake.
“Come up here, my love, my heart,” the words echoed in her mind.
Aria began to climb. Somehow she kept slipping on the shiny gold stairs.
“My love, my heart, apple of my eye!”
The call was irresistible. Aria continued to climb, on her hands and knees now. She reached the top of the gold stairway and stood up.
Her hand was raised above a large brass ring on an arched wood door. She felt butterflies in her stomach.
That’s silly! she thought. This is all in my head anyway.
Still, she felt she should knock, so she lifted the brass ring and dropped it twice against the thick wood.
She held her breath.
The door fell open to reveal a small, white room.
Aria stared. Even though she was pretty sure she was still lying in the park, this wasn’t what she would have imagined on the other side of a door in heaven. The vision had gotten away from her somehow. The walls of the room behind the door seemed to be made of cloud. Even the floor was white and fluffy. Little blades of green grass grew up out of the soft carpet of white air.
Aria stepped inside, and her feet sank slightly into the lawn. A gentle breeze streamed out through the door, which still looked out over the neighborhood park below.
“Where am I?” Aria asked.
“The secret place,” a gentle voice answered.
Fruit trees were growing along a small brook that flowed toward the wall closest to her. Aria leaned over to look down into the stream. There was nothing but clear water ten feet down, even though the stream was only a few feet wide.
“Jump in!” the voice invited her.
Instead she rolled up her jeans to her knees and sat in the grass on the bank. She dipped her feet into the flow of water.
It was as refreshing as lemonade on a hot summer’s day. Aria stretched her shoulders and sighed, leaning back on her hands.
She looked upstream and saw that the water was flowing out from under a white throne, simple but wide, as if it had been made for a very large adult.
She stood up, shook the sparkling water off her feet, and scrambled up to sit at the edge of the stone seat.
Aria dangled her feet over the base of the throne. She reached out to put one hand on each armrest.
She saw her arms again.
Her scars.
Aria pulled her arms to her chest and began to cry.
“Why did you let this happen?” she cried. “Why did you let any of this happen?”
The only answer was the clear, deep water trickling out from under the chair.
“Where are you?” she asked.
There was no reply.
“Please,” she said, “I need to know you’re here. I’ve lost nearly everyone I care about.”
“Was it worth it?” he replied.
Aria’s mouth opened and closed again. Her tears cooled on her cheeks.
“You found me,” he explained.
A rush of warmth passed over Aria’s body from her head down to her feet. He was right! Was that the price she had to pay to really know God?
Aria shook her head. It was too much to consider.
She wiped away her tears and went to inspect the fruit trees growing along the edge of the water. They each had a different kind of fruit: one tree grew purple fruit, another orange and pink.
She picked a pink one and bit into its soft skin. Its juices burst into her mouth like a whole basket of fresh apricots. She took another bite, and the flavor changed to raspberry—or maybe it was plum.
She suddenly remembered the story she had written for her homework assignment, in which the children whose flowers bloomed in matching colors could read each other’s minds. Can we be like that? she thought. That would be so wonderful, to have someone who understands me.
Aria sat down again on the bank of the little brook and savored every juicy bite of her fruit. When she had finished, she flipped the stem into the water and watched it bob away until it disappeared with the stream at the edge of the room.
Aria enjoyed the water flowing between her toes. “Why aren’t you really here?” she finally asked, examining her feet under the water.
“I am,” was the reply.
“But I want to see you face to face!”
Once the words were out in the air, they seemed fresher, freer.
“Precious daughter,” she heard the reply in her spirit. “I watch you sleep!”
Aria was floored. She imagined the smiling face of God hovering over her bed at night. He counted her breaths!
Her arms began to itch, and she scratched them impatiently.
“Daniel was just like you, you know,” he said.
Daniel of the Bible?! I really am making things up now.
“I don’t belong anywhere,” she said, with a familiar groan in her spirit.
“Neither did he.”
She didn’t answer, but she saw an image in her mind of God kissing chubby baby knees.
All in a moment she understood. A tingling spread from her chest through her arms.
She was God’s daughter. He was her dad. This changed everything—again.
Aria’s arms stopped itching.
She looked down.
Fresh, perfect skin covered her forearms.
Was it possible? He had healed her! She jumped to her feet and examined her smooth skin.
Or was it the fruit that had healed her?
What did it matter, though? It was his fruit anyway, his water—his world she lived in.
And that was the point, wasn’t it?
She would never feel alone again.
“Where have you been?” she whispered, caressing her soft arms.
“Very close, all your life,” he responded.
She fell asleep amid the dandelions in the park, in her white secret room, drunk in his deep love for her.
17
ANONYMOUSLY
“Why did you come here?”
“Lily, I understand your frustration, but—.”
“But what, Bob?”
“I came here to spare you more public embarrassment,” Mr. Bob said.
He stood before Aria’s parents on their front stoop. Above them, storm clouds were gathering behind a stiff breeze that smelled of rain.
It was about time.
Aria stood at her bedroom window looking down on the standoff.
“You mean the kind of embarrassment that comes from being publicly crucified without a trial in front of all of our friends who are being manipulated into believing a lie?” Aria’s dad growled, stepping in front of his wife.
“Oh, you’re Jesus now?” Bob replied.
Aria’s dad pointed at Mr. Bob’s chest. “The kind of embarrassment that comes from being part of a group of church elders who protect the guilty to preserve their puny power?”
