“You’re welcome,” Mark said.
The boy smiled and then ambled back toward his bunk.
Mark stood in the window for a moment longer, and when fatigue pressed against his eyes, he returned to his bunk and drifted off to a restless sleep.
When dawn’s light peeked between the shutter slats, Mark pulled himself up and sat on the edge of his bunk. The teens snored and mumbled in different stages of sleep, and he hated to rouse them to face the gloomy morning. He slid into his jeans and sneakers, then pulled a T-shirt over his head and crept toward the door. Moving in silence, he opened the door and slipped outside.
The rain had stopped, but the trees continued to drip, and rivulets of water ran where the pathway should have been. Across the sodden grass, Lana’s cabin door opened, and she stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her. From her expression, Mark knew without question that she had endured a difficult night.
When she saw him standing outside, she riveted her gaze to his and stepped from the wooden porch. Her hushed voice pierced the morning stillness as she headed toward him. “Latest on the home front. The roof leaks. Can you believe it?”
Mark opened his mouth to warn her about the slippery ground, but before he could act, Lana stepped from the grass, and her feet hit the sodden path and skidded in the muck. Wavering backward and forward like a child on her first ice skates, Lana struggled to retrieve her balance. With caution, Mark maneuvered through the mire, hoping to stop her fall, but before he’d taken three steps, Lana lay sprawled in a pool of mud. Her cry ricocheted through the trees, sending a bevy of birds flying heavenward.
When Mark reached her side, she looked like a chocolate-dipped bonbon. Mark sputtered between concern and laughter. “I tried, Lana.” Fighting his amusement, his chuckle won out.
She glared up at him from her pitiful, prone position. “Don’t just stand there. I’m up to my armpits in mud.”
“I noticed.” His chuckle gave way to a full laugh.
“Not funny, Mark.” She extended her arm toward him for help.
Mark gripped her slippery fingers with a heave-ho, but instead, his feet did a heave-ho of their own, and he joined her, landing on his knees in the oozing muck. Facing her at eye level, he gawked at her soiled face. “Trying a mud pack? I hear they’re great for a beautiful complexion.”
“Really,” she said, sending him a grin. “How about trying one yourself?” She lifted her muddy hands and dragged them across his cheeks.
They gaped at each other, and their laughter disturbed the quiet morning.
“Guess I fixed you,” she said in her playful, cocky tone.
“Not as much as I fixed you.”
“Fixed me?” Her face shuffled through a medley of confused expressions.
“It’s morning. Men are scheduled to shower now. You’ll have to wait until tonight, Missy.” He raised himself, semi-covered in mud and helped Lana to stand.
“Please don’t make me wait,” she whined. “I can’t go all day like this. You know—”
“Stop your pitiful moaning.” He touched her nose with the tip of his finger, putting a daub of mud on one of the few spots that had remained unsullied. “Grab your clothes, and I’ll stand guard.”
“I could kiss you,” she said. “Thanks.”
As the words left her mouth, he watched surprise widen her eyes. “Not now, you can’t,” he said. Playfully, he stepped away from her mud-speckled form, yet longing to kiss her anyway, anytime. “Besides, I’m only doing this in hopes of getting another glimpse of your Howdy Doody bathrobe.”
“Sorry,” she said, wading back to her cabin, “that’s at home in my treasure chest.”
Twelve
Clean again, Lana headed for breakfast. With a new appreciation for the cooks, she stopped complaining about the food and enjoyed listening to the conversation, jumping in when she had something to add. After the meal, the teens opted to stay in the activity hall until the sun dried the footpaths. Mark agreed, and the two parents offered to keep a watchful eye on the campers while they played Ping-Pong, darts, and board games.
Lana grinned at Mark, who looked cleaner and brighter than during their earlier meeting, and they slipped outside for a rare moment of free time. Wiser after their morning misadventure, they kept a watchful eye for slippery mud patches. As they headed toward the lake, Mark let his fingers brush against Lana’s, and enjoying a rare moment alone with him, Lana eagerly slipped her fingers into his.
Enjoying the serenity, Lana regarded the rain-washed world—leaves and grass a shiny green. When they arrived at the lake, even the water rippled with a malachite glow. Ignoring the damp wood, Lana dropped to the park bench near the water’s edge. In the glorious silence, neither she nor Mark spoke, but her mind drifted, and her heart thumped a tom-tom rhythm. She had fallen in serious “like” with the stray man her sister had dragged home only weeks earlier.
Though her heart drummed, Lana felt at peace. She’d been unhappy with herself for too long. Discontented at work and with her life in general, she’d looked at her sister with envy and irritation. Barb had learned an easy acceptance of herself and others long before Lana had even a vague understanding of what such an outlook meant. But now things were different. Since she’d met Mark, a new feeling had emerged—a comfort with her faith and a completeness she’d never known before.
“Five bucks for your thoughts,” Mark said, resting his arm along the bench back. His fingers played along her upper arm, and his touch sent tingles through her chest.
“Not worth a penny.” She stopped herself. “Is my nose growing?”
“Only a little, Pinocchio.”
She tilted her head and nodded. “My thoughts are worth a million dollars.”
“Want to share?”
She did, but how? How could she say all that was in her heart without making herself uncomfortable and very vulnerable. He liked her, but did he feel the same as she? “It’s hard to put my feelings into words. So much has happened these last few weeks.” She gazed into his eyes. “Especially this past week.”
“I’ve seen the difference. Felt the difference. Not only in you, but in me. I think God had His hand in our first meeting—as silly as that day was. Now that I think of it, you haven’t attacked me with one power tool in the past couple of weeks.”
Lana grinned. “Do you think God has a sense of humor?” The question sailed from her lips without her thinking, and she grimaced, fearing she had made light of the heavenly Father.
“I sure do. He made you. . . .”
Her head jerked upward, but her scowl faded when she saw his smiling face.
“And me,” Mark continued. “We humans are a silly lot. I’m sure God gets a good laugh over our antics.”
“And hurts with our pain,” Lana added.
He nodded. “The Bible says Jesus wept.”
His words wrapped around her heart. Jesus laughed and cried. The Lord knew human feelings and understood. The reality seemed overwhelming. “I’ve learned some things about myself at the camp.” She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’d like to think I’ll be a better person one of these days.”
“I’d like to think so too.” He grinned at her.
She gave him a poke.
“You know I’m teasing. I have no right to judge anyone.”
“What do you mean?” she said.
His playfulness faded, and he clasped her hand in his, caressing her knuckles with his free hand. “I spend a lot of time taunting you about being flawed and needing improvement, but I’m as flawed as anyone—and definitely need God’s grace and guidance.”
Her pulse skipped a beat before mounting to a trot. “I don’t understand.”
“I told you how God guided me to sign up for youth ministry classes.”
Holding her breath, she nodded, fearing what he might tell her.
“I have spent a lot of time doubting God’s wisdom, Lana. Even though I signed up for the classes and took a youth mini
stry job, I still questioned God. Still thought He’d made a mistake. Still figured I was unable—even more, unworthy—to guide young people.” His gaze left hers and turned toward the blue water winking with sunshine.
She longed to respond, to tell him he was wrong, but wisdom guided her to listen.
“I learned something here too.” He shifted his face toward hers, his gaze seeking the depths of her understanding. “I finally realized I don’t have to be perfect. . .because God is perfect. All I have to do is help the teens struggle with that truth just like I have done all my life.”
A deep sigh shot from Lana’s chest. “It’s that easy?”
“It’s not easy,” he said, grinning. “But it’s the hard truth. If we give God the best we can by listening to the teens and speaking from our hearts, then we can’t go wrong. Since I’ve been working with them these past months, I’ve always tried to ask myself how a Christian should handle the situation. In these past few days, I’ve questioned myself over and over.”
She couldn’t keep back her smile at seeing him so serious, but she loved seeing that side of him. “You make me laugh, Mark, and now. . .you’ve made me want to cry.”
“Cry?”
“Because what you’ve said is so beautiful. . .and true.
“It’s God talking, not me.”
While she laughed, he slid his hand into his pocket and brought out a small package.
“Here,” he said, handing it to her. “I bought you a little present before we left home.”
Her heart skipped as she reached for the tiny paper bag. “Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to.”
She slid her fingers into the sack and pulled out a thin, woven bracelet that displayed four letters: WWJD. She had no idea what it meant. Radio call letters was all that came to mind. “Christian radio station?”
His laugh filled the quiet. “You’re kidding. Haven’t you seen these? Teens wear them.”
She shook her head, embarrassed that she’d never heard of the bracelets that apparently were popular with Christian teenagers.
“The letters stand for ‘What would Jesus do?’ I thought—”
“I can guess what you thought.” She gave him a knowing smile and gazed at the bracelet resting in her fingers. “Thanks. Would you hook it for me?”
“Sure thing.” He grasped the two ends and connected it around her wrist.
She studied the four letters. “This will be a great reminder. Lots better than a tattoo on my forehead. I know I’m not perfect, but I’m trying, and you’ve been a wonderful example for me.”
“Me?” He shook his head. “You’re looking at me through love’s eyes.”
The words startled them both, and their gazes locked.
Mark’s tethered breath escaped him. “At least, I hope that’s true.”
His gaze drifted to her mouth, and Lana touched her bracelet and waited suspended as he leaned toward her. Eagerly, she lifted her lips to meet his, anticipating his kiss.
“Hey, there you are.” A voice shot from the distance.
They jolted backward. Lana’s heart tripping in expectation and disappointment like a ride on a roller coaster that climbs to the very edge of the first steep slope and stalls.
Looking as if he’d swallowed a chili pepper, Mark’s face reddened, and he turned his head toward the voices. Behind them, two of the teens waved wildly, totally unaware they’d put a headlock on what Lana had hoped would be a very romantic moment.
Mark’s rigid shoulders sagged. “Drat,” he said. Then like a spy movie, before the teens arrived, he whispered in her ear. “I’ll meet you after the team activity tonight. Behind your cabin. Nine o’clock.”
Lana chuckled and pointed to her wrist. “Should we synchronize our watches?”
Playfully, they pushed their wrists together and compared minute and hour hands with a dramatic nod.
“Tonight,” she murmured. “Nine o’clock.”
When they lifted their eyes from their wrists, the teens had landed.
❧
The sun grew warmer as the day went on, and soon the grass no longer held traces of the morning’s rain. After lunch, Mark began the Bible study. “Tonight, we’re taking a deeper step in our studies. Two days ago, I tied you together with string, and you learned, I hope,” he said, looking around the room at the grinning faces, “about cooperation. Without that, you’d still be strung together in knots.”
The teens chuckled and groaned as they remembered their feeble attempts to avoid breaking the string while getting untied.
“Tonight, we have two events, one with string and one without.”
Moans were quickly followed by applause.
“Before I tell you about tonight’s activities, let’s open our Bibles to Luke 6:39–40. Jesus has been answering questions, and we know how Jesus often explains his meanings.”
“Through parables,” Gary said.
“Absolutely, and after Jesus told the questioners a parable, this is what he said.” Mark looked down at the Bible and read: “ ‘Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A student is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher.’ ”
An intense discussion followed. Some wondered how it would feel to be blind, and others tried to comprehend how they could be a student, yet a teacher.
“Tonight, you’ll find answers to both these questions,” Mark said. “Give it some thought as you enjoy your day.”
❧
With the day growing hot and sunny, just about everyone gathered at the beach that afternoon, though Lana had no desire to swim in what she considered frog- and snake-infested water. The young people splashed and bounded in the lake while the adults watched from the shore.
When the two parents headed for the rowboat, Mark slid next to Lana. “What time does your watch say?” he asked, a silly grin playing on his face.
“Two-thirty. How about you?” Lana’s pulse tripped at his smile.
“Same.” He leaned his head sideways and pressed it against hers for a fleeting minute.
She longed for the hours to pass so she could experience their comical secret rendezvous.
Mark looked back out toward the water. “Only four more days and we’re heading home.”
Lana’s heart sank like a stone. Though crawling into her own cozy bed at home sounded wonderful, she would miss the special time they’d shared here. “You sound disappointed,” she said, hoping to hear he felt the same.
“Disappointed? Not at all.” He didn’t flinch but stared ahead.
Lana struggled to keep her disappointment hidden.
Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression taunting. “I’ll have my own bed to sleep in and get back to my everyday, lonely routine. No irritable woman to ruin my scrambled eggs or knock me into the mud.”
“Right. And no more leaky roofs, canoe disasters, or creepy, crawling, slithering things.”
His teasing eyes softened. “I’ll miss being together like this.”
A sigh ruffled through her. “Me too,” she admitted.
“I know we don’t live too far apart, but it’s not quite the same. Life gets busy, and you’ll probably find excuses to avoid me.”
“Avoid you? Not me.” She paused. “If I did, you’d probably miss my antics.”
He caressed her fingers. “You make me laugh.”
“At or with?” she asked.
His forehead wrinkled in a thoughtful scowl.
“Laugh at me or with me?”
His expression shifted to a grin. “Aren’t they the same?”
She gave him a poke. “Not in my head they aren’t.”
His gaze sought hers and hung there, suspended. “You’re learning to laugh at yourself, and I’m learning to care so much for you.”
Her heartbeat did a Texas two-step and then galloped ahead like her wild ride on Fury, leaving her breathless. She could only nod, acknowledging the truth. She’d changed in the
past few days. More than she could ever imagine.
All Lana thought about the rest of the day was the evening’s private meeting with Mark. Why, she wasn’t sure. So far, their best intentions had turned to lumpy oatmeal, but her pulse raced in anticipation anyway. After dinner she ambled outside, wandering alone while Mark explained the team activities.
When the teens gathered on the grass, Mark blindfolded four at a time and gave them a lengthy piece of string tied at the ends. “Your job is to form this string into a square.”
“How?” Don asked, peeking from beneath the cloth binding his eyes.
“No peeking,” Mark said, tugging the fabric in place. “The first step is to discuss the solution between yourselves. Then move around until you think you’ve accomplished it.” He turned and looked at the others watching. “No hints from the crowd, and avoid sounds—especially laughter. Let them do this on their own.”
The group agreed. The four teens stood in the middle while the others formed a large circle around them. Those blindfolded pondered and discussed how to shape a square. Each one tried to convince the others his way was best. Finally, they settled on a system and moved into position.
Lana grinned, seeing the lopsided shape they’d formed.
“Take off the blindfold,” Mark said.
When they removed the covering from their eyes, all the teens joined in the laughter.
“It’s impossible,” Jason said.
Mark shook his head. “Wait. Let’s see if it is.”
They discussed where they went wrong, and four more blind-folded teenagers set out to learn from their fellow campers’ mistakes. The result was not much better.
Lana watched with interest, impressed by how Mark had set up the exercise.
The next four had help—a group of teens who had already discussed the best way to accomplish the task. While the four held the string, blindfolded, Teri, serving as the group captain, called out instructions about where each should move and when. The result was a near perfect square.
After the cheers quieted, Mark stepped into the center. “So what’s the lesson?”
“Don’t try to accomplish things on your own. Ask for help,” Gary said.
Over Her Head (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 489) Page 14
