Unbreakable Hope

by Kristin Billerbeck

  “My mother always warned me not to go there.” Emily shrugged.

  He leaned in, and she sat straight up in her chair. “Didn’t that make you want to go there? To find out what was so bad about it? People are the same, only the circumstances are different.”

  She shook her head. “Of course that didn’t make me want to go. It wasn’t a good part of town. It still isn’t a good part of town. What more do I need to know?”

  “Emily, EPA is a ripe mission field. There are people there who live in absolute squalor, yet know the Lord is with them always. Their joy in the Lord is like nothing you’ve ever seen here in Los Altos. It’s practiced with abandon. These people know peace in all circumstances. Don’t you think that’s admirable?”

  “Not if it means going where it’s dangerous. I’m not really very adventurous. I like knowing my surroundings well.”

  Darin’s heart sank at the shaky fear in Emily’s voice. Didn’t she know God would protect her? He probably should have kept his thoughts to himself, but he blurted, “Fear is the work of the evil one. God says not to be anxious for anything. That means when there are bullets flying in your neighborhood, you can rest in Him.”

  “There’s a line between trusting the Lord and doing stupid things like going into a dangerous place and expecting Him to rescue me.”

  Her words pierced him. Their soup arrived, but Darin wasn’t hungry. The vigor and life he thought he’d seen in Emily had quickly disappeared behind her love for safety. Darin’s life was bold. From bungee jumping to street preaching, he lived dangerously. Where once it had been for the adrenaline rush, now it was for the sake of the gospel. After all, he’d almost been killed—anything after the crash was a gift from above. Darin prayed over the Vietnamese noodle soup, and they ate their meal in silence. Maybe this had been a mistake. It certainly wasn’t an ideal first date. Darin peered at the golden liquid inside his bowl. I’ll never be a Christian in the proper churchsense of the word.

  Two

  Emily arrived early as usual on Sunday and straightened the Sunday school lessons and cut out all the necessary shapes for the craft. She lined everything up into neat rows so the students could easily access their take-home study. She loved it when parents continued the study at home during the week. It brought her immense joy to know her work was helping young Christians become grounded.

  “There,” she said aloud at the sight of her perfectly organized table.

  “Hi.” Darin Black leaned against the doorjamb, his broad shoulders filling the entrance to the classroom. Emily swallowed over her nervousness. She noticed as she lined up the papers again that her hands trembled. The pirate had returned, and she was unprepared for her reaction. She giggled nervously, like one of her first-graders.

  “Hi,” she said quietly. “Are you working with the junior-highers today?”

  “I am, but first I have some of their little brothers I brought with me from town. They’ll be in your class. This is Nicholas.” Darin brought forward a little boy who looked like an overgrown puppy who hadn’t developed into his paws yet. “He’s only in the second grade. He’s just the size of your average high schooler.” Darin mussed the boy’s hair.

  Nicholas had a wary look to his eyes, and they thinned at the sight of her, announcing his immediate defiance. Emily knew the look well from her years of teaching and looked forward to an eventful hour. She instantly felt thankful she taught in a nice part of town and didn’t have to deal with this defiance on a regular basis. A few more of these kids, and her joy for teaching might dwindle quickly.

  “And this,” Darin added, “is Jason.”

  “The worm who cried when he left his Mama,” Nicholas said tauntingly.

  “Hey!” Darin lifted the corner of Nicholas’s shirt. “You mess with him, you mess with me. Got it?”

  Emily flinched at the harsh words. Echoes of her childhood chilled her, but when she looked at Darin he had a smile plastered on his face. He seemed almost serene and the boys both laughed.

  She tried to put the boys at ease immediately, knowing her organized classroom and the well-coifed children probably made them feel uncomfortable. They each wore a cartoon T-shirt that most kids wouldn’t be allowed to own in the church. The chasm between the children saddened her. No wonder so many visitors stopped coming. She prayed, hoping she could find the connection to keep the boys interested.

  “Nicholas and Jason, it’s nice to have you in my class. Would you like to color until we get started?” She handed them each a coloring sheet.

  “Whatever.” Nicholas rolled his eyes and pushed past her to a desk, where he flopped into the seat. He cursed as he hit his knee on the top of the metal. Darin apologized with his eyes. “I’m not three. I don’t color.”

  “I also have building toys,” Emily offered. She liked to have cool things for the boys to do with their hands while they listened. She found it was far more effective than telling them to sit down countless times. So Legos were a regular feature in her classroom.

  Jason said nothing but also ignored the coloring sheet. He crossed his arms over his chest. His hair hung over his eyes, hiding his true expression. Emily felt hopeless looking at him. The boy seemed to have no joy left in him. And although he wasn’t more than eight, Legos were beyond childish to him. She pitied how fast these children had to grow up in the ghetto. Childhood never existed for them, judging by the hardness of their expressions or the coldness in their eyes.

  She drew in a deep breath, and Darin said, “Don’t take any of Nicholas’s garbage. He needs this.” With a wink implying collusion, he turned and walked toward the middle school class. A bevy of kids, including several giggling girls, followed him like the Pied Piper. Emily laughed at the sight, secretly wishing she could follow as well.

  She turned back to her class. In all the commotion of her new students, she hadn’t noticed that everyone had been signed in and now sat around the room, staring at the two new children like new animals at the zoo.

  “Well,” Emily said. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Miss Jensen, and today we’re going to learn about Cain and Abel—two brothers who had two different hearts toward God.”

  Nicholas raised a hand.

  “Yes, Nicholas.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “My teacher’s aide isn’t here yet, so you’ll have to wait a bit.” She didn’t trust the boy to come back, so she needed to make sure he was chaperoned.

  Again the boy cursed and reiterated his need to visit the bathroom in a coarse way. Although he was only eight or so, he frightened Emily with his harshness, and he probably sensed it. She’d never met a boy so young who acted in such a raw way, and visions of violent news footage played in her head. She shook her wild imagination.

  “Nicholas, I’m telling you, we don’t talk like that at church. Whether you believe it or not, there is a God listening, and He is not pleased. You can try to make me mad, but I wouldn’t test God.”

  “I’m shaking.” By now, all the children were mesmerized. They’d probably never witnessed such insolence, and in all Emily’s years of teaching, she was certain she hadn’t.

  Nicholas jumped up on the desk and started dancing. “Tell God to come get me then!”

  Almost as soon as he lifted a foot, he slipped from the desk and the back of his head hit another. Emily rushed across the room to where Nicholas lay crying. She was thankful for the jagged sounds, knowing that Nicholas was not knocked unconscious. He’d pulled into a fetal position and was screaming like an angry toddler, kicking the surrounding desks.

  “Nicholas, show me where it hurts.” Emily cradled his head and felt the knot on the back of his skull. Where was her teaching help? She scanned the room of wide-eyed children and selected the most mature of her kids. “Rachel, would you go find Mrs. Kless and tell her I need help. Quickly.”

  Rachel nodded and ran from the room with obvious relief.

  Emily soothed Nicholas with soft words and asked the r
est of the children to pray for the boy’s head. He wasn’t badly hurt. His ego was far more bruised than his head, but it was the way he cried. The childishness within him scared Emily. She’d heard this kind of explosive crying before, when a broken soul let the pain ooze freely. Suddenly, she saw Nicholas in a whole new light—as a broken heart rather than a defiant child.

  She had to focus. She had to concentrate on the task at hand. She sat on the floor and pulled Nicholas onto her lap, which, surprisingly, he didn’t fight. His body was rigid with distress. The class looked at her expectantly. She cleared her throat and began the lesson. She told the story of Cain and Abel while holding Nicholas. The children watched with wide, attentive eyes, fearful that Nicholas might rise or scream again.

  Mrs. Kless came and took the children to another class for craft. For some reason Emily wasn’t ready to relinquish Nicholas or Jason. The lost boys, as she now thought of them.

  Nicholas’s harsh look died, and she felt him relax in her arms, molding into her form. She looked up to see Darin’s worried frown.

  “Nicholas. You all right, Buddy?”

  The boy ran to Darin and allowed the big man to embrace him like a baby. Jason watched the whole situation without saying a word.

  Emily raked her hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Darin.” Her lips quivered, and she fought a wave of emotion. She’d done the right thing and remained calm, but she didn’t feel that way. Everything within her didn’t want to let go of the boys, to send them back to the adult world they lived in.

  “I—” Her voice broke.

  “Emily, what’s the matter? It’s just a little fall. Kids take falls all the time.”

  She bristled. “Yes, you’re right.” After Nicholas quieted down, Emily pulled Darin away. “I just wish there was something more I could do.”

  “When kids climb, they sometimes fall.”

  Mrs. Kless came in and brought a first-aid kit and an accident report for the church office. Emily calmly filled out the paperwork, but she didn’t feel soothed in her heart. She regretted sending Nicholas back home to whatever pain he clutched. His cries over a fall would haunt her like the cries of her next-door neighbor as a child. She excused herself.

  Free of teaching second hour, she ran across the parking lot and found her car. Fumbling with her keys, she unlocked the door and clambered into the driver’s seat. Images of the handsome Darin Black—and her inability to teach a simple Sunday school class in front of him—filled her mind. She closed her eyes and imagined herself touching the soft red stubble on his shaved head. Maybe her subconscious believed his dangerous side was enough to rescue her from her loneliness. She’d thought the same of Mike, but he’d seen through her gentle façade. He’d seen the real Emily for who she really was, and he’d run away like a frightened fawn. No knight in shining armor was coming to rescue her. She needed to get over that dream and continue loving the kids God had given her to help: her students.

  She didn’t know how long she sat in the car, but when she looked around the parking lot was nearly empty. Darin rapped on her window, and she started at the sight of him with four young boys. Nicholas was one of them.

  “We just wanted you to know that Nicholas was fine. He gave us a good scare, but he’s a tough cookie. Aren’t you, Bud?”

  “Better believe it,” Nicholas said with all the bravado of a high school quarterback.

  “We’re going to get some lunch before we head back to EPA. You want to join us?” Darin lifted his light red eyebrows, and the motion captivated Emily. So much so she forgot to answer.

  “Emily?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. No, I’ve got to get my classroom ready for tomorrow.”

  “Working on a Sunday?” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  “I’m afraid a teacher’s work is never done. I had to work the school fair yesterday, so I didn’t get all my lesson plans finished.”

  “Em, this wasn’t your fault, you know. Nicholas told me what happened and said he was sorry.”

  She just shook her head. “I know, but I was in charge and I feel badly that I let you down.”

  “Emily?”

  She met his eyes and marveled again at their color—a slate gray-green that calmed the senses. It was the kind of color a hospital might use on the walls to lower blood pressure. It certainly lowered hers.

  “Let me drive you home. Work can wait.”

  She still stared into his eyes, hoping for a little of the peace they seemed to emanate. How did someone who knew the Lord for such a short time possess such inner peace?

  “I’m all right.” But Emily longed to throw off all of her responsibilities for the day and enjoy a nice afternoon with Darin and the kids.

  “Hang on a minute, Emily. I’m going to ask Pastor Fredericks to drive the boys home.”

  “No!” the kids whined in unison.

  “No, Darin. I need to get to work. Really.” But she was about as convincing as a two-year-old turning down candy. Darin laughed at her and crossed his arms at her lack of conviction.

  She sat there, staring at the steering wheel, and soon Darin returned without his inner city boys’ club.

  He opened her door. “Get into the passenger seat. I’m driving.”

  Emily didn’t argue.

  Darin gazed at her. “Emily, what’s wrong? You seem to be making an awfully big deal of a kid falling and having to work on a Sunday. Are you trying to avoid me?”

  “No.” Quite the contrary. “I was just reminded today of something that happened a long time ago. Something I thought I’d sorted out with God. I didn’t know how to handle a child like Nicholas. It never occurred to me as a child to defy the rules. Maybe I’d be more exciting if I had.”

  “Is it so surprising that you couldn’t handle Nicholas?”

  “I’m a teacher.”

  “In the middle of Mansion Row, Emily. You’re a teacher for spoiled rich kids. In contrast, these kids saw a slasher flick last night, and they were pretending to knife each other when I picked them up this morning. That something you’re used to?” He fought off laughter.

  Emily shuddered. “How can you protect them when you take them out?”

  “I do my best. I keep a close eye on them, but ultimately the Lord has to care for them the rest of the week. Their mothers all work two jobs or more. Most of the kids don’t know who their fathers are. I can only be a piece in God’s puzzle for them. I can’t be everything.” He paused for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes. “And neither can you.”

  But she wondered about that. Wasn’t being there for the kids exactly what she was called to do?

  Darin started her car. He turned out of the parking lot and headed away from her home.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You need to get some food into you. You’re happier when you’re full, at least I am. There’s a nice little breakfast place downtown.”

  As the car approached the city, Emily thought the restaurant was better described as a greasy spoon. Clearly, being a Christian wasn’t the only definition they disagreed upon.

  “This place has the best eggs benedict you’ll ever eat,” Darin said as the hostess motioned toward a vinyl-covered booth.

  Somehow I doubt that, Emily thought.

  “The usual?” the waitress asked.

  “Two please. Emily, what do you want to drink?”

  “Just iced water.” Thinking better of her choice, she said, “Make that a Diet Pepsi.” In Mexico, they always warned you not to drink the water. Somehow Emily thought that might be good advice for this restaurant.

  The waitress grabbed the menus and left. Emily was grateful Darin had taken over for the moment. She found herself staring at him again. He was so beautiful. Not a word you’d use to describe a man, but it fit Darin to a T. Movie-star gorgeous with a dash of danger.

  “What are your parents like?” she asked, wondering what terrible stories he could tell of living with ungodly parents.

&nbs
p; “They’re good people. They don’t know the Lord, but they gave me every opportunity to make something of myself. Albeit, without much guidance. I was pretty much free to do as I liked. I had a basketball scholarship to college, but I quickly squandered it when I discovered the college life could be so much fun.”

  Emily crossed her arms, sinking into the booth. “College was fun?”

  “No,” Darin laughed. “College wasn’t fun, but all the extracurricular activities were. So much so I flunked out. That’s why I’m doing landscape work now. I was in a five-year program for architecture. I got enough engineering to design a great sprinkler and lawn system. But not much else, other than how to down a six-pack in six minutes.”

  Emily mentally calculated the strikes against Darin Black based on her mother’s list of qualities to look for in a man. He was a college dropout, former street racer, and former drinker. There was the issue of the earring and the fact that he was comfortable in the inner city, not to mention this dive restaurant.

  Staring at this gentle man across from her, it was hard to believe all she knew about him was true. She rubbed the back of her neck, wondering what she might say to keep normal conversation flowing. She didn’t feel like conversing. She just wanted to go to the school and try harder to be the teacher she should be. And she wanted to ignore her growing feelings for a man who would not meet the approval of her parents.

  “You’re quiet, Emily.” Darin lifted her chin slightly with his thumb. It was the first time he’d touched her, and her body betrayed her. She felt his touch to her toes. “It’s okay if you don’t feel like talking. Just sit back and enjoy breakfast. I’m content to look at the beautiful view.” He winked at her. “I’m really sorry if the boys were too much for you.”

  Emily shook her head. “No, the boys weren’t too much. They just reminded me of something Fireman Mike once told me.” She paused for a moment. “He said I couldn’t rescue the world. But I wonder if I could rescue anyone?”

  Darin kept those green eyes upon her, and she felt the need to keep talking.

  “I can try harder, but those words haunt me. If I’m not good at teaching, what’s my purpose?”