I’m ready to continue what God started in my life.
With my newfound family, I can be free from the oppression of the Code and life in Gideon’s system. I long to join Arkin in Corinth, but what about my promise to Petra? How can I leave Mom behind?
►▼◄
Memories return to me all week after my visit to Corinth. A renewed passion for learning the Bible and more about Jesus invigorates me each day. My zeal for abandoning Gideon grows with every passing minute, but I have to keep my feelings under lock and key around Hunter and Mom. My previous distain for Hunter disappears when I add the knowledge of my new friend to my memories. Could Hunter really be a CE officer? Would a spy pretend to have affection for Mom just to keep an eye on me?
Regardless of the answer, I have to keep myself above suspicion. I have to act as oblivious as I did when my memory disappeared, keep up my delivery job around Gideon, and seem content with my life as a citizen. This will be difficult when all I want is to escape to the outskirts.
“Raissa!” Mom calls, knocking on my door.
“What?” I groan, rolling over in my bed.
“It’s nearly eleven. Were you up late?” she asks.
Remembering the night before, I pop up and yank my blankets, covering the Bible between my body and the wall. In the next second, Mom opens my door and walks into the room.
I rub my eyes. “I fell asleep late.”
“Hunter is taking me back to the aviary today for my special day,” she says, dropping on the bed with a mischievous grin.
“Right, your birthday,” I say, recalling the date. “Happy Birthday.”
She pinches my cheek. “Thank you. I know there are a lot of things you don’t remember lately, but that’s no excuse for forgetting my birthday.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing the pinched spot. “I’ve been working so much. I guess I lost track of the days.”
“You have until I return this evening to scramble for a gift,” she says.
I chuckle at her. We haven’t spoken to each other in this way since before Petra moved out. The contrast between weeping Mom and this one makes life seem like a dream world, but Mom has a reason to be happy: Hunter. And if Hunter is a fake and a spy, how will I ever break it to Mom? Such news would destroy her. But if Hunter is fulfilling an undercover mission, then why does he still hang around so long after my time in rehab?
She stands from the bed. “What are your plans today?”
“I guess I’m buying my mom a birthday present,” I say.
“Besides that?”
“I don’t know yet,” I say, knowing Arkin expects me in Corinth by two o’clock.
“I’ll be home a little later. Hunter also plans to cook for me at his place this evening,” she says, turning to leave the room. “There are some leftovers in the fridge.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“You like Hunter, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she says, not restraining a smile. “I haven’t felt this way since your father …”
“How did the enemy kill Dad? Why?” I ask. “I can’t remember anything about it.”
Her smile fades. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now.”
“But if the enemies are that dangerous, shouldn’t—”
“What’s in the past is in the past,” she says. “We need to move forward, set our sights on the future, not bury our heads in the past.”
Mom emanates uneasiness when she avoids the truth. She knows I’ve been lied to. Bitterness grips me by the throat. She let them lie to me and brainwash me in the rehab.
“Enjoy your time with Hunter,” I say, falling back against my pillow.
“I’ll see you later,” she says, closing the door.
I hop up from the bed and hide the Bible in its usual place under the loose floorboard. I thank God CE never found it. They probably raided my room after the arrest. If they’d thought to check the floorboards, they most certainly would have found the book, the letter from Petra, and the other notes I took while studying the Bible with Arkin. I can’t even remember how my sketchbook ended up under my bed. If it hadn’t been there, Mom would have found it, seen the drawings of Arkin, and probably thrown it in the trash.
Hearing Mom’s footsteps leave the apartment, I close my curtains and slip into a fresh pair of coveralls.
Mom loves daisies, so my first course of action will be to get a bouquet from the market. On my way, I check my wristband to see how many credits I have. I gave some credits to Mom the week before for groceries. With my own credits and a few here and there from Hunter, we’ve been eating better in the past month.
“Eight credits,” a short, round man at the flower cart says.
I offer my wrist. The man uses a handheld device to scan the wristband, and it makes a high-pitched beep. He hands me the bouquet of daisies.
“Thank you,” the man says, turning his head. “Ogden, add daisies to the list.”
My eyes widen when Og emerges from the other side of the flower cart. He avoids my gaze as he types on a digital pad.
I approach him. “You work here?”
He nods. “I don't have time to talk.”
“It's okay,” the man says. “Take your break.”
Og grimaces and then hands the pad to his supervisor. He turns on his heel and heads away from me into the nearest group of pedestrians.
“Wait up,” I say, hurrying after him.
He doesn't increase his pace, but he doesn't slow down. I meet his stride.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, trying to keep my voice low. “I remember.”
He stops, throwing off the pedestrians behind him who dodge us to keep going.
He grabs me by the arm and drags me to a nearby bench.
“What do you remember?” he asks, sitting.
I take a seat beside him. “Everything.”
His expression grows dark. “So you remember how you treated your best friend like garbage?”
His words stab my chest like a burning needle, filling me with a massive dose of shame.
“I'm so sorry, Og,” I say, seeing his pain. “I've been the worst friend to you. You never deserved what I put you through. I should've trusted you.”
“You should have,” he whispers, practically spitting the words. “For the past three months, all I've thought about is the outskirts. You dragged me there, turned my whole world upside down, and now I can never go back.”
“But you can. I've been back.”
He shakes his head and whispers, “As soon as my father even suspects I'm going back there, he'll plant another tracking device on me.”
“That's how he found Philippi?”
“Between that and your mother's boyfriend, he was able to plan the raid.”
“Hunter really is CE?” I ask.
He nods with a tight jaw. “He’s one of my dad’s most trusted officers.”
“I have to get him out of the picture,” I say. “Mom is falling for him.”
“They killed Arkin's parents right after the raid,” he says.
“I know.”
“They announced the raid on the newsfeed. CE executed fifty-two believers.” He shakes his head. “The citizens were so proud. It was disgusting.”
A lump forms in my throat, and my eyes burn.
“I'm telling my mom today,” I say, making the decision right then.
Og’s mouth drops open. “Are you crazy? She'll turn you in, and they’ll kill you.”
“Not if I show her Petra’s letter and the book. It belonged to the Santos family.”
He shakes his head.
“I can't stay in Gideon,” I whisper. “I want a life of freedom, but I can't abandon my mom.”
He rises from the bench. “Say ‘hi’ to Arkin and Saphie for me. If you need me before the summer ends, you know where to find me.”
He disappears into the crowd on the sidewalk. The bouquet of daisies smells sweet and fresh like childhood. I wish Arkin would give
me flowers. Such a silly, random thought when I’m torn between two worlds, one with Ogden and Mom, ruled by the Code and one with Arkin, freed by the Gospel. I have to rescue Mom from this world.
Lord, I don't know how to do this, I pray. Please help me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Even after spending two hours in Corinth, I still want to share the truth with Mom on her birthday. Stubbornness prevented me from mentioning my plans to anyone else, not even Arkin. Mom is my responsibility, and God will give me the right words to speak at the right moment.
“Are you doing okay here?” I ask Arkin while we gather water from a stream outside the village.
“As well as we can,” he says. “Most of the Corinth believers have been hospitable. They even built new cabins for our refugees.”
“Are they still angry with us?”
He nods, crouching at the stream’s edge. “They met yesterday. No new Gideonites can enter Corinth without a majority vote by the people. I don’t blame them for being cautious. What I did was foolish.”
“What happened was no one’s fault,” I say. “You told me yourself that the plan is to tell Gideon about Jesus. If you hadn’t brought me here, I don’t think I would’ve been saved.”
“That’s the only good I can see in all of this,” he says, sipping water from his cupped hands.
I set a full wooden bucket on the bank and sit beside him. “I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you needed me.”
“You shouldn't apologize for that,” he says, wetting his neck and forehead. “God has sent other people to help me and Saphie through this, but …”
I nod, putting an arm around his shoulders. With that tender display of compassion, his resolve melts. He buries his face into my neck and shudders.
“I've been trying to keep myself together for Saphie,” he says, “but it's hard when I'm used to having them here.”
I hold him close and stroke his head. My eyes burn. I hate the sorrow he feels. I want to hate Code Enforcement again, but I let that anger go on the day I accepted Christ. I need to pray for my enemies like Jesus said I should.
“I've been trying to focus all my energy on helping Josiah these past few months,” he says, his voice steadying. “He lost a lot of technology at his workshop in Philippi. I thank God every day that he happened to be in Ephesus on the day of the raid.”
“That was a blessing,” I say.
He pulls out of my arms and splashes water on his face. “He's been working on a helicopter.”
“What’s a helicopter?” I ask.
“It’s a …” A hint of mischief flashes in his eyes. “I’ll show you.”
He leads me back to the village where we drop off the bucket of water with Sarai. We continue back into the woods in the opposite direction until we reach a building made of stone. The windows and doorways stand empty, no glass and no doors. The only door on the building patches a hole in the roof.
Josiah sits inside the building, working on some device with tools at a table against the wall.
“Come around this way,” Arkin says, gesturing for me to follow.
Behind the building crouches a huge, rusty contraption, bigger than a taxi carriage, with massive blades propped across the top of it.
He flashes a proud grin. “This is our helicopter.”
“So what does it do?” I ask, approaching the opening to look inside.
“It flies,” he says.
I turn to him. “What do you mean, ‘flies’?”
“It flies,” he says with a shrug.
“Like a bird?”
He searches the sky as if for the right words. “More like a bee. At least, that’s what I’m told. Josiah and his team have been working on it for a year, gathering parts here and there.”
“Where would you find parts for such a thing?” I ask.
“Out here,” Josiah says, stepping behind us. “We’ve actually found two others about a mile away. They were used in the war.”
“I didn’t know there were flying vehicles,” I say.
“We found out through books,” Josiah says. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to identify it.”
“How does it work?” I ask, not able to withhold my curiosity.
Josiah gives me a detailed tour of the helicopter and describes how it works. I hang on his every word. How can such an invention exist and not be used in Gideon?
“What are you going to do with it?” I ask.
“The plan is to drop thousands of flyers about the Bible and Jesus all over the crowds at the Gideon Centennial Celebration next February,” Arkin says. “They’ve been printing them with technology at Ephesus, waiting for this one chance to share the Gospel with Gideon.”
Plans for the Gideon Centennial Celebration traveled across the newsfeed periodically over the past two years. Officials intended it to be bigger than the New Year’s Eve celebration which brought most citizens to the city center for the countdown to the new year. The idea of a surprise drop of “enemy propaganda” on the citizens of Gideon excites me. This incredible plan could change the city-state forever. Citizens would begin to question the Code. CE could lose all control.
“I want in on this,” I say. “Whatever you want me to do, I want to be there.”
“The plan is being finalized, but without the helicopter, it won’t work,” Josiah says. “The best thing you can do right now is pray for more parts.”
“Raissa,” Sarai calls, walking up from behind the stone building. “Elder wants to see you.”
I give Arkin a questioning look, and he shrugs. We follow Sarai back to Timothy’s cabin where he waits in a chair outside.
“Have a seat, Raissa,” he says, motioning to the chair beside him. “Arkin, we’ll need a few moments alone.”
Arkin nods and heads toward his cabin.
“I’m very glad you’re here,” Timothy says. “It’s my responsibility to mentor you.”
“Mentor me? For what purpose?” I ask, a stone slab forming in my gut.
“I mentored Petra before she was taken from us, and I feel it’s best if I also mentor you.”
“Was my sister a good believer?” I ask, the question sounding as silly as it did in my head. “Sorry. That’s a stupid question.”
He smiles. “It’s not. I know what you mean. She was faithful to God, curious about the Bible. She always prayed for you, your mother, and her friends. She was exactly what a believer is supposed to be.”
“Then I’d like for you to mentor me.”
“Good. Let’s pray together, shall we?”
“Okay,” I say, bowing my head and closing my eyes.
He prays for strength and wisdom to help him be a good mentor to me. He prays I will receive his teaching and God’s wisdom with an open mind and an open heart. I agree with this prayer.
“Are you sick?” I ask.
He nods. “I became ill about five years ago. I was on my death bed, but through the prayers of my fellow believers, the Lord healed me. It was a miracle, but the sickness returned about a year ago. The Lord has blessed me to live this long.”
“Why don’t you get a fake identity and go into Gideon for medical care?”
“That wouldn’t be wise,” he says. “I’m a wanted man.”
I watch the sun dip closer toward the horizon and remember Mom. “I should be heading back home.”
“Come back soon so we can begin our Bible study,” he says. “I’ll be here. I never go far from my cabin.”
“Thank you, Elder.”
I head back to Arkin’s cabin, finding him eating strawberries outside with Saphie. She cradles the strawberry basket and munches on a mouthful of the fruit, the juice running down her chin.
“What did he tell you?” Arkin asks.
“He wants to mentor me,” I say.
“That’s awesome,” he says.
“I hope it is.” I grab a strawberry from the basket. It’s sweet and juicy. Perfect. I haven’t tasted its extravagant flavor in years.<
br />
Arkin leads me back to Fire with Saphie trailing behind. When we embrace, I don’t want to let him go. I love to be near him, to smell his scent and hear his voice. If only I had the boldness to tell him how I feel, but my fears of rejection cloud any possibility of him sharing my feelings.
“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” I say, mounting the horse.
“If you talk to Og again, tell him we miss him,” he says.
“Tell him I said to come back,” Saphie says with a pout.
“I’ll tell him,” I say.
Fire takes off into the woods, shaking me in all directions. I steady myself on the mare’s saddle and lean forward, trying to think about what I will say to Mom. Today has to be the day to share everything I know.
When I enter the apartment, my wristband reads seven o'clock. I have some time to prepare before Mom returns. I place the vase of daisies on the kitchen table with a birthday card propped in front of it.
Sitting in the corner of my room, I read the Bible and ask God for the right words to speak to Mom. Before I know it, the apartment door opens, startling me. My neck hurts, and the Bible lays open across my chest. I must have drifted off to sleep. I shuffle around the shadowy bedroom and rush out to greet Mom.
“Isn't this lovely!” she gushes.
“They're your favorite, right?” I ask, entering the kitchen.
“Yes,” she says, opening her arms. “Thank you.”
I hug her.
“Let's sit.” She releases me. “There's something I need to tell you.”
What is this about? I take a seat at the kitchen table.
“I know a lot has happened this year, and it's been difficult,” she says, sitting across from me.
“That's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I say, my hands shaking under the table. “I want to get everything out in the open.”
“Then you should know that tonight Hunter proposed to me.” She extends her left arm over the table. “I said yes.”
The ring on Mom's hand sparkles with red rubies all along the band. The heat drains from my face.
“Mom, Hunter is Code Enforcement.”
She blinks. “What's wrong with that?”
Confused by her response, I continue. “He pretended to work with you. He lied to—”
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