Fate of the Fallen

by Ellery Adams

  The group rested for a while, taking in the view and enjoying the stillness. A few other hikers came and went swiftly. They appeared to be on a mission, trying to get to the top and back to the trailhead in record time. In the process they seemed to ignore the beauty around them. How could anyone ignore this? And why would anyone want to?

  She snapped a few more pictures before Quinton stretched his legs and rubbed his stomach. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use some lunch.”

  Until that moment, Cooper hadn’t realized she was hungry. At the mention of lunch, however, her stomach began to growl. “I second that.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Nathan said. “It won’t take as long going down.”

  Trish gazed out over the lookout. “Could we eat at the lake? I see picnic tables.”

  “Sure,” Quinton replied. “I brought a tablecloth and picnic blankets, just in case.”

  As Nathan had said, descending was much faster and much easier on the legs. It took half the time to hike from the lookout back to the tree line. Keeping to the path running along the edge of the woods, the group made their way to the lake, where they found the area almost deserted. The swimmers and paddleboats were nowhere in sight.

  Bryant stepped to the front of the group, scanning the area. “Where did everyone go?”

  Nathan tapped his Fitbit to see the time. “To the food trucks, I’m guessing. Looks like we got here just in time. As soon as they get lunch, these tables will fill up fast. Somebody should probably stay here to save a table while the rest of us go get the coolers.” Jake rolled up his sleeves. “How about Bryant, Nathan, Quinton, and I go fetch lunch. The ladies can pick us out a good table and protect it from any other interested parties.”

  Trish looked around. “I see a table over there.” She turned to Cooper and Savannah. “Let’s go check it out.”

  “And if anyone else tries to take it . . .” Cooper put up her fists as if she were going to fight. “We’ll fend them off.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Jake said with a laugh. “Come on, fellas.”

  While the guys headed back to Quinton’s car to get food, Cooper, Savannah, and Trish ambled across the soft grass to the picnic table. Trish led the way, and Cooper linked her arm with Savannah’s to help her over the moist earth. The table was metal with a long bench seat on either side. It was only a few yards from the water, nestled under the protective boughs of an oak tree, close to a little pier that jutted out a good fifteen feet over the lake.

  “This is perfect,” Trish announced. She took off her hat and laid down on one of the benches, looking up into the tree. “What do you say?”

  Cooper sat on the opposite bench and stared out over the water. “I’d say I agree with you.”

  “Hear, hear,” Savannah added, sitting beside Cooper. “A perfect spot. And the water’s so close!”

  “It’s a good thing, too,” Trish said, turning from the tree to the lake. “I could really use a cool swim after that hike.”

  “Ditto,” Cooper agreed. “After we eat, I’m changing into my suit.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to wait an hour to swim after eating?”

  “I heard that’s not true. No waiting necessary.”

  “Hmmm.” Trish scrunched up her face in thought. “I’m not sure what to believe now. My mother always made me wait between eating and swimming. Then again, she did tell me there was a Santa Claus. Maybe waiting to swim is in the same vein.”

  Laughing, Cooper tried to think of a clever response but was too amused to do so. Her laugh faded to a mild chuckle, which dissolved into a satisfied smile. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Savannah, who sat with her eyes closed, facing the lake. She wore an expression of absolute contentment.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Savannah,” Cooper said. “Everything all right?”

  Savannah’s eyes popped open and she turned to Cooper. “I was just enjoying the scenery.”

  “The scenery?”

  “Yes, the scents and sounds.”

  “Ah.” Cooper sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “Really? Nothing? Close your eyes.”

  Cooper did as she was told. “Now what?”

  “Take a breath, of course! Concentrate on the little variations in the air. You’ll notice an earthy, woody scent. That’s the trees. The lake smells moist and summery.”

  Cooper inhaled again, this time focusing hard on the air passing through her nostrils. There it was—the earthy smell of the trees. A deep, full aroma.

  Then she noticed the moisture in the air. She’d never thought of “summery” as a kind of scent, but that was the only word to aptly describe a fragrance that brought to mind a thousand memories of swimming during summer vacation. Yes, the lake smelled summery.

  Savannah continued. “Now, notice the unnatural odors—grease, meats, frying oil, burnt pans. Those are from the food trucks. They’re subtle, but unmistakable. And every time the breeze kicks up, it brings a fresh batch of wildflower perfume to us. Can you smell it?”

  Drawing in another deep breath, Cooper found that she could, in fact, detect the very slight odors from the food trucks. The more she focused on them, the more they stood out against the natural smells of the park. A breeze whipped across the lake, and Cooper got a nose full of what Savannah called wildflower perfume.

  “I never would have noticed any of that,” she said. She reached over and gave Savannah a side hug. “Thank you for opening my eyes . . . or nose.”

  “What about your ears?” Savannah asked. “What do you hear?”

  Cooper stopped and listened again. “The birds are singing.”

  “And?”

  “When the breeze blows it rustles the leaves . . . that’s all.”

  “There’s so much more! Water lapping against the shore, children laughing—they’re heading back from the food trucks, I guess—and if you really listen, you can just make out the sound of musicians tuning their instruments.”

  Trish sat up. “You can hear the musicians?”

  “Barely,” Savannah replied. “And only because I’m used to focusing on the little sounds. Once we start eating, and I’m not concentrating, I won’t notice them anymore. For a few minutes, though, it’s a nice way to experience God’s creation.”

  Being legally blind, Savannah couldn’t enjoy the scenery as the others did, but her attitude wouldn’t allow her self-pity, and that was one of many things Cooper loved about her. While the rest of the Bible study group explored the world mostly through sight, Savannah listened, smelled, and touched, using her other senses in ways that the others never did. Sure, Cooper could hear, smell, and feel, but she never did so as deeply and thoroughly as Savannah, and Cooper wished she could experience nature as her friend did, if only for a day. Savannah was immersed in God’s handiwork.

  For the next few minutes, the three of them sat in silence with their eyes closed, smelling the air, listening to the wind and enjoying the tranquility of their lakeside table. Then the sound of a loud thump broke the silence. When Cooper opened her eyes, she saw Nathan and Jake standing at the end of the bench, having just set one of Quinton’s coolers on the table, which they’d silently covered with a tablecloth while she wasn’t looking.

  Nathan opened up the cooler lid. “Did anyone try to take the table?”

  “A few punks,” Cooper replied, smiling. “Trish took them out.”

  Jake gave Trish a congratulatory pat on the back. “Nice job. Who’s hungry?”

  “I am!” Quinton said, placing a basket of plastic cutlery, paper plates, and napkins beside the cooler.

  “I second that,” Bryant agreed, bringing up the rear. He heaved the beverages up onto the table. Together, the whole group set the table for the picnic, and when they were finished, they took their seats around the feast.

  “Shall we say a quick prayer before we eat?” Savannah asked. Everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads, as Savannah continued. “Lord, thank you for this bea
utiful day, for wonderful friends and for tasty food. Please bless this meal to our bodies. Amen.”

  And then the meal officially began. They passed around Savannah’s quiche, Bryant’s macaroni, and Quinton’s melon salad. Trish dished out her tomatoes, which she reminded everyone were really “Southern marinated heirloom tomatoes.” Jake tossed rolls to anyone who wanted one, and Nathan poured the drinks. In between bites, they complimented one another on the food and commented on the day, but the conversation lulled as they all realized how hungry they were and turned their full attention to their meals.

  Cooper watched Nathan, wondering what was going on inside his head at this very moment. On the outside, he appeared calm and collected, but she wasn’t sure that façade could be trusted. If she had big news to share with him, she’d be anything but calm. She’d be bursting at the seams.

  Then again, maybe her definition of big news and his definition were very different. Maybe, just maybe, what Cooper was expecting to be life-altering wasn’t really so big after all.

  “Pass the quiche, please.”

  The request jogged her from her thoughts. She looked around the table. “Huh?”

  “The quiche,” Bryant repeated. “Would you mind passing it?”

  Cooper handed him the dish, and just like that the chatter started again, only now it concerned plans for the afternoon.

  “I’d like to visit the artisan booths,” Savannah said, wiping the tomato marinade from the corners of her mouth. “I don’t really care when we do it as long as we do. I just love seeing what local artists turn out!”

  “Imagine that!” Jake jested. “The artist wants to visit the artisans.”

  “Well, I’m no artist,” Trish said, “but I’d also like to see the booths. Only after we rest for a little bit.”

  Quinton nodded. “I’m embarrassed to say that hike winded me more than I thought it would. A rest before more walking sounds great.”

  Cooper turned and looked out at the lake. “We were talking—us girls—while you guys were getting lunch. We thought it might be nice to take a swim after lunch.”

  “How about this?” Nathan asked. “We eat. We talk for a bit. We swim. Then we head over to the craft booths for a while before staking out a place near the amphitheater. We can take turns saving seats and getting supper from the food trucks.”

  Bryant gulped his lemonade and then wiped his chin. “I like the plan. Say, Savannah, weren’t you going to prepare a Bible study for us?”

  Savannah perked up. “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll share it after we finish eating, while we let our food settle.”

  “The let’s finish eating!” Quinton suggested. “Do you mind helping me serve dessert, Coop?”

  “Not at all,” Cooper replied. She cleared the table of the used paper plates and laid out fresh ones for the sweet treats. Meanwhile, Quinton pulled his cake box and Cooper’s scone box out of the cooler.

  Cooper set her mama’s cherry pistachio scones in the middle of the table so that everyone could reach them. Quinton sliced his cake, smiling at the longing looks his dessert was receiving, and as Cooper handed him plates, he dished it up. Cooper licked her lips. The dessert was made of three layers of dark chocolate cake, separated by fluffy marshmallow cream frosting. Covering the top was a thick layer of the frosting, decorated with mini chocolate chips. The look and smell were absolutely heavenly.

  The desserts were received with blissful sighs and words of praise. The first bite of Quinton’s cake melted in Cooper’s mouth. The marshmallow frosting was just sweet enough to counter the slightly bitter dark chocolate. And of course, her mama’s scones were wonderfully light and delicious, as her mother’s baking always was.

  When they were finished, Trish and Jake collected the plates, and Quinton packed up the food. Savannah took her Bible from her purse.

  “While they get things cleaned up, I’ll tell you all what I had planned for our study,” she began. She caressed the Bible with her artist’s hands. The book was worn and well-loved. “I brought a very special Bible today. It belonged to my grandmother. She read it every morning for as long as she lived, and every time I went to visit her, she’d read me my favorite stories—David and Goliath, Daniel in the Lion’s Den, Jesus turning water to wine, the walls of Jericho falling before Joshua . . . Today, I thought we could take turns, each sharing our favorite passage from Scripture. You can read, if you like, or you can just tell us about it.”

  They took a few moments to think as Trish, Jake and Quinton finished cleaning. After a short time, Savannah set her Bible on the table in front of her. “I’ll start by telling you mine. While it’s certainly hard to pick a favorite passage, my current favorite would have to be the creation story in Genesis.” She began to recite from memory. “‘In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light.’ I can see it in my mind. A dark mass of nothingness and then suddenly, out of the words of God, light appears. Almost gives me goose bumps to think about it.”

  “Definitely makes you think,” Jake said. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go. Sorry to say I don’t recall where it is in there, but I always liked the part about Samson.”

  “There’s quite a bit about him in the book of Judges,” Savannah replied. “Any story in particular that you like best?”

  “Oh, you know, the stories about how he was so strong—with a strength from God. Killed a lion, took out a whole bunch of guys, pushed down the pillars of a building. It’d be pretty nice to have that kind of strength.”

  “True,” Quinton agreed. “But you forgot the part where his girlfriend betrayed him, he had his eyes gouged out, and then he died after pushing down those pillars.”

  Jake grimaced. “You’re right. I did forget that part. I still like how strong he was, though. How about you, Quinton? What’s your favorite?”

  “I was always fond of the story of Jonah—the fellow tried to run from what God was telling him. He wound up in the belly of a big fish and realized God was right and he needed to do what He said.”

  Bryant snickered. “I suppose he had plenty of time to think it over while he was in the big fish.”

  Trish reached across the table, picked up the Bible and flipped through it. “Ah! Here’s my favorite. I couldn’t remember which chapter it was . . . First Corinthians, chapter thirteen. ‘Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous . . .’ Then later it says, ‘Love never fails.’ It’s a beautiful chapter. Very poetic and a good reminder of how powerful God’s love is.”

  “I’m more of an action-adventure fan,” Bryant said. “I always got a kick out of the story about the fiery furnace. You know, when Daniel’s friends were supposed to bow down to a statue, but they didn’t. The king had his guards throw them into a furnace that was so hot that the guards who threw them in died. But Daniel’s friends trusted God to save them, and they were completely unharmed by the flames.” He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “I always thought that sounded like something from a good movie. Kings, fiery furnaces, and near-death experiences. It’s all very exciting.”

  The conversation lulled. Savannah turned to Nathan. “What about you?”

  “I was thinking about it,” Nathan replied. “I know a lot of people like to read about Jesus’s birth and life and death, but I’ve always really liked the part that came after. The end of Luke and the beginning of Acts. When Jesus was raised from the dead and talking to his disciples.”

  “Interesting. Why do you like that so much?”

  “I think we sometimes forget that faith didn’t end with the cross. It started there. And after Jesus ascended, there was a lot of work to do. It forces me to remember what we’re here for, what faith is really about. What about you, Coop?”

  Cooper rubbed her palms on her shorts. She’d been racking her brains to think of somethin
g, anything, but the extent of her Bible knowledge was what she learned at the Sunrise Bible Study, and she didn’t want to point to last week’s lesson as her favorite passage. “I’m not sure what my favorite is. I went to church as a kid, and I guess I always believed in God, but it wasn’t until fairly recently that I got into Bible reading. I don’t know that I have a favorite passage or story.”

  She sat quietly for a few seconds, trying to think of some verse that had stayed with her. In her mind’s eye she pictured a framed document hanging on the wall in Grammy’s room, the Twenty-third Psalm. It had been there for as long as Cooper could remember. She read it every time she went to talk to Grammy, so it was firmly planted in her memory.

  “‘The Lord is my Shepherd,’” she began. “‘I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul for his name’s sake.’ That passage hangs on my grammy’s wall, over her nightstand. I guess that’s the verse I remember from way, way back, the verse that’s been with me the longest.”

  “Ah, the Shepherd’s Psalm,” Savannah said. “A beautiful poem reminding us of how God not only guides but also protects and watches over us.” She paused and looked around the table. “Thank you all for sharing. Times like these I feel I’ve come to know you better, on a much deeper level. I feel I’ve gotten a glimpse into your souls. Thank you for that.”

  Her words left them in silence.

  She continued. “That’s all I had planned for today, as far as Bible study’s concerned. Short and sweet.”

  “A dip into Scripture before we take a dip in the lake,” Trish quipped. “I enjoyed sharing.”

  “Yes, that was a nice idea,” Jake agreed. He reached over and took Savannah’s hand. It was as affectionate as he ever was in public. “Well done.”

  Savannah smiled at him. “I appreciate the encouragement.”