“Does it matter? It happened.”
He had kept the painting hidden from her all this time. “It does to me.”
“I asked the thief to store everything in a safe place.”
“The man you saw at the museum.” Sonia’s voice thinned to not much more than a whisper.
“Yes. My plan was to ‘discover’ it and restore it to Joe. Restore my reputation at the same time, and return home a hero.” He turned from the window and plopped down in the chair.
“And just when were you planning on doing that?” Sonia clasped her hands together but didn’t meet his eyes.
“After I made myself indispensable to the family. I wanted the western branch of the Knight family to like me, you see. To give a good report back to my father.”
“It seems to me that committing a crime is a strange way to get back in your father’s good graces.”
“What can I say? I figured no permanent harm would be done. I knew Joe would have insurance.” He resisted the urge to squirm. “I didn’t know the people involved.”
Sonia made no attempt to suppress her emotions. She shook her head so hard that her whole body shuddered. “You’ve known where my paintings were this whole time.” Her voice shook to the point where she stuttered. “You knew how I was struggling, something you could have ended at any time, and you did nothing.” She stood and searched the room, grabbing a box of tissues. “I thought we were friends, maybe more. I can’t believe I was falling in love with you.”
She blew her nose and sat down. When she pulled out her cell phone, Ty looked alarmed. “Who are you calling?”
“Michelle. To come pick me up.”
“No. Wait. I’ll take you home or back to the store or wherever you want to go.”
“Will you take me to get my painting?”
Ty didn’t move.
“I didn’t think so.” She gawked at him, the tears on her cheeks magnifying her anger. “So you want me to act like nothing happened.”
“Aren’t you the person who’s been preaching to me about forgiveness and redemption?” His voice turned cold. “I told you some things are unforgivable.” He clenched his teeth. “Do what you want. I’m heading out to my car. I’ll wait for you out there.”
❧
Oh Lord, help. Sonia could only lift up a simple prayer. How had her efforts to share the gospel with Ty turned into this painful quagmire?
She stared at the open cell phone in her hand and closed it with trembling fingers. She would wait, for now. On her way out, her gaze fell on the Truth shall set you free poster. Jesus’ promise mocked her hollowness of spirit. The slavery of ignorance had at least been a familiar prison.
Ty waited where he had promised. She slid into the passenger’s seat, and he drove her to the parking lot behind Joe’s store. “Is there any point in asking for some time before you tell the world?”
Will you promise not to tell anyone? Ty’s earlier request made sense now. Sonia took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I have to think about it.” She looked at him directly for the first time since she had climbed in the car. “I will tell you first if I decide to talk to anyone else about it. I’ll do that much.”
“Thanks.”
She slipped out of the car without waving good-bye and waited while he pulled out of the parking lot. She studied her hands, which had stopped trembling. A cold numbness spread through her body, enabling her to move. That was good.
Driving might clear her mind. She popped into the store and grabbed her sketchbook. She’d rather have her prayer journal, but she didn’t want to stop by the house and risk running into Michelle. Pencil, sketchbook, and purse on the passenger’s seat, she filled the car with gas and headed to the interstate. East, where nothing but mile after empty mile stretched? Or west, to the mountains, but also the hustle and bustle of the city? East, she decided, to an undiscovered country. Undiscovered by her, in any case.
She picked up a cup of coffee at a drive-through and headed down the road. She turned her radio to NPR, which was broadcasting classical music. She sipped her coffee, accelerated to the speed limit, and let the miles slide over her shoulders and mind while the music breathed beauty into her soul.
She saw an exit sign that promised an RV park and a restaurant nearby when the DJ announced, “Next we’ll hear a performance of Mozart’s Eine kleine Nacthmusik by the Boston Symphony Orchestra.”
A Little Night Music. Tears she had held at bay jumped into Sonia’s eyes, and she left the highway and found a charming town park. She turned off the engine and let her tears flow. When at last she finished, she fished tissues out of her purse, dried her nose, and gave another sob. Enough. Sketchbook and coffee in hand, she found a picnic table underneath an aspen that carpeted the ground with yellow leaves.
She flipped past the pages where she had drawn sketches for the backdrops at the concert. She sniffled and found a blank page, where the planned murals wouldn’t mock her mood.
She drew outer space, the moon and beyond. The moon’s face took on Nel’s aristocratic features. She left a space for Mars, drawing Saturn and its rings that shimmered in anticipation for Joe and Michelle.
She returned to Mars, the red planet. The angry planet? Full of craters and closest to earth. Craters grew into black holes that suggested Ty’s eyes and hair and mouth—silent, unknown, menacing. She pressed down with the pencil hard enough to break the lead, shocking herself in the process.
Oh God, forgive me. I don’t want the sun to go down on this anger.
“But I have a right to be angry. He betrayed me. He used me.” Sonia said the words aloud into the cooling afternoon air.
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Paul’s word in Romans ran through her mind. She bit her lip.
But neither could she just let it go. She had more people to consider than herself. How about Joe, and the lawyer who had paid for her picture, and all the other artists whose works had been stolen?
And did keeping quiet really help Ty? She shook her head. Even if she removed herself from the situation, she didn’t see how it helped him to benefit from a crime.
Let Me handle it. Sonia looked up at the aspen, and a breeze knocked a few leaves to the ground, the dead leaves falling so that in the spring new life could burst forth.
Maybe God wanted to do something like that with Ty. She would wait, for now.
Nine
One long week passed. One where once again Sonia stayed as far away as possible from Ty, although for different reasons than the previous occasion. One when every day she prayed, “What should I do?”
She received the same answer: Wait.
That Saturday afternoon she scheduled the first of two planned workdays to finish the backdrops for the concert. She had sketched out large sections, making it easy for people of any skill level to slap paint on the scenes. Her adult class planned to attend, as well as a few choir and orchestra members. She had assembled all the supplies in the fellowship hall.
As people arrived, she put them in groups of two to four people. Joe, Michelle, and Nel volunteered to work on the gigantic flag that would accompany the orchestra’s patriotic fanfare. Classen and his students painted a harvest cornucopia of goods produced locally. Max had volunteered as well, but so far he hadn’t showed. And as for Ty—well, she didn’t know whether he’d dare show his face or not. He hadn’t come to the morning’s class. She had seen him at choir practice, but they didn’t speak.
After work began, Max came through the door, followed by Ty. “Sorry we’re late, but Ty accepted my invitation to be my partner at the last minute.”
Ty glanced at her. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Why not?” Max chortled. “Many hands make light work, my ma used to say.”
Ty’s dark eyes sought hers, a silent plea for acceptance evident in their depths.
“Certainly. Thank you for coming,” she found herself saying. She sounded like a
principal on the first day of school, but she couldn’t manage any warmer welcome. “You’ll be working on the Easter scene. Here is your guide.” She handed them a sheet with numbers indicating the colors needed for each section of the backdrop.
Ty glanced at the sketch of three crosses on Calvary’s hill and arched an eyebrow at her. Are you preaching at me again? he seemed to be saying. But he set to work without comment, answering Max’s question about applying the paint.
Sonia moved among the volunteers, replenishing paint, making an occasional correction or clarification. Her ears tuned in to Max’s hearty laugh in response to Ty’s quiet murmur. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying in frustration. Ty had no right to seem so happy, calm at least, not after the stunt he had pulled.
Sonia called a halt to the work at half past four. “We’ve made good progress today. More than halfway done. Next week we should finish early. Thanks to all of you for your help.”
“No, we should be thanking you for all your work.” Josh had arrived late with a few more choir members. “You and Ty.” He clapped Ty, who almost dropped a dripping paintbrush, on the back. “You’ve both brought excitement to our town. I thank God every day for sending you here.”
The blank expression in Ty’s eyes gave nothing away, and the group dispersed except for Max and Ty. When Ty left the room for a moment, Max said, “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s plain as snow in August that something’s wrong between you and Ty. Give him a break, for my sake.” He patted her shoulder and left as Ty returned.
Ty rubbed his chin, where a beard had grown. He looked roguishly handsome, in a serious, thoughtful kind of way. Tiny lines had appeared at the corners of his eyes, and shadows darkened the pockets beneath his eyes.
Why, he’s as miserable as I am. When the realization hit Sonia, she looked at him with new eyes. “We need to talk.”
❧
Sonia’s words made Ty uneasy. “I’ll let you know before I tell anyone else.” Did she want to spill his secret? His mouth went as dry as the Santa Ana winds. “Yes, we do.” The words scratched with static.
“Did you come with Max? Or can you stay a few minutes?”
“I brought my car, so I can stay.”
Sonia went to the gym doors and looked out as if checking for unexpected company. Ty found a couple of folding chairs in a closet and set them up by the kitchen window.
When Sonia took a seat, Ty couldn’t face her. He stayed standing, looking down the hallway that led to the rest of the church building. “How long do I have?”
Sonia shifted in her chair, not answering. When he allowed himself to look at her, he saw her hands folded, her eyes closed, and her mouth moving without making a sound. At length she opened her eyes. “Until the concert. God has reminded me that He can bring good out of evil, and this concert is definitely a good thing.” She started to reach for him then stopped when he didn’t move toward her. “After that, it’s up to you. Either you tell them, or I will.”
The concert. Two weeks. How could he bring his plan to fruition, as busy as he was between rehearsals and his job? Stop making excuses. He nodded his head. “I understand.”
❧
Josh faced the sanctuary, where they had set up folding chairs to accommodate the overflow crowds. The audience remained on its feet, the applause not yet dying down. Behind the orchestra, stars and moon glittered against a night sky that reminded Ty of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Too bad they didn’t plan for an encore. Ty didn’t want to play all the way through Eine kleine Nachtmusik again.
At length the applause died down, and Josh took the mic in his right hand. “Thank you all for coming to our Harvest Concert. Didn’t our musicians do a great job?”
Again applause and cheers, and one teen—Ty recognized him from Sonia’s class—shouted, “Encore!” Josh quieted them again.
“But we wouldn’t have done any of this, wouldn’t have dreamed of it, if it wasn’t for our concertmaster Tynan Knight.” He gestured for Ty to stand.
His fellow orchestra members clapped. “Speech, speech!” Max called from the percussion section.
Ty willed his hands to stay still. He didn’t deserve their praise or thanks, not with his less-than-pure motives. But the audience didn’t know that. Josh handed him the mic.Ty turned on the Southern charm. “I may have suggested the idea, but it’s these good church folk who have done all the hard work. And Josh, who put it all together. The Romeros, who were kind enough to share some of their Victory Singers music with us.” As he named each group, he paused for renewed applause.
He wanted to thank one last person. “Not to forget artist-in-residence, Sonia Oliveira, who designed and created these amazing backdrops with the help of her talented students.” He saw her shake her head from her seat in the sound booth.
A wild idea occurred to him, and he turned to Josh. “I’m sure we’ve raised a lot of money here tonight, but I know this church has even bigger dreams. What would you folks say to an encore performance? Same time, same place, next Saturday?”
Thunderous applause greeted his suggestion. Josh’s surprised expression morphed into a grin. “What say you, orchestra? Choir?”
Their smiles indicated their agreement.
Maybe Sonia would give Ty a reprieve from telling all. He risked a glance at the sound booth. She gave him a thumbs-up, and his heartbeat slowed to a normal level.
❧
Sonia looked out the window at the passing highway miles. She couldn’t believe she had agreed to this expedition with Ty.
Maybe she could blame Max, who had sought her out. “See, I told you everything would work out fine.” When they totaled the money raised, they had enough to replace the AV system as well as resurface the parking lot before winter weather set in. A second concert might well raise the rest of the money affected by the budget shortfall.
Whatever the reason, when Ty had invited Sonia to try out the Kit Carson County Carousel in Burlington to celebrate the success of the concert, she had agreed. What else could she say when he made arrangements for a special ride in their off-season after he learned about her passion for carousels from Joe?
“There’s the exit for Burlington.” From Ulysses, the interstate continued its eastward march into Kansas. Burlington was one of the last stops in Colorado.
“Good. I began to wonder if I’d missed it.” They found the carousel without difficulty.
“Did you know there is a carousel inside one of the malls near Denver?”
“Joe might have mentioned it. He said you rode it every time you went to the mall together.” Ty sounded amused.
“With bells and whistles on. It’s as close as I get to being a cowgirl. Ride ’em, cowboy.” She made an imaginary loop in the air before giggling. The levity felt good.
Sonia paused to read the sign outside the carousel. The Burlington carousel was one of only one hundred fifty carousels of the four thousand built between 1885 and 1930 still in existence. A speedster, it went twelve miles per hour instead of the more normal eight. The three rows remained stationary. The animals—described as a menagerie—didn’t move up and down?
Ty bought tickets. “Maybe we can find a little bit of Mary Poppins’s magic and ride off into a chalk drawing.”
“But I didn’t bring my chalk.” Sonia fought to bring herself back to reality. Exchanging lighthearted banter with Ty as if nothing had changed between them bordered on ridiculous. She headed for the entrance of the twelve-sided building, but Ty whipped ahead of her and opened the door.
Sonia took her time walking around the carousel. Menagerie described the ride perfectly. In addition to horses, she spotted a giraffe with a snake wrapped around its neck, a zebra ridden by a gnome, even a cupid and an Arabian sheik. She could spend hours studying the intricate carvings and delicate paint, but the operator tapped his watch.
She chose an Indian pony, complete with horseshoes it would never have worn in real life. Ty helped her onto the seat before clim
bing aboard a snarling black stallion next to her.
The calliope music—a Wurlitzer organ, the brochure had said—started an unexpected rendition of “Stars and Stripes Forever.” She held onto the pole and leaned back, riding a bucking bronco. The tie slipped out of her hair, and dark waves cascaded down her neck and swept across her face. She glanced at Ty and saw his laugh. He raised one hand, like a rodeo rider seeking balance.
Sonia leaned forward on her horse. “Wanna race?”
“Sure.”
“And they’re off. . .”
The music ended before Sonia was ready.
“Who won?” Ty asked.
“Why, I did of course.” They bought two more tickets and sought new mounts. This time she chose a lion while Ty stretched his long legs over a giraffe’s back.
“This time I want to touch the brass ring.” Ty pointed to the dispenser at the center of the carousel. “It takes courage and daring”—he swiped at it as they passed it—“to go for it.” His hand landed short, and he slipped a bit in the saddle before he righted himself.
Sonia craned her neck to see. “Too bad I can’t reach it from here.”
Ty made three unsuccessful attempts before the music—“Turkey in the Straw” this time—ended. Mischief danced in his eyes as he turned to her. “One more ride?”
Sonia glanced at her watch. “We can if we grab some fast food and eat in the car.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know Burlington was quite so far away. We can’t afford to get back late, not with the encore tonight.”
When Ty succeeded in grabbing the ring, he whooped loud enough to be heard all the way to Ulysses. After the carousel stopped, he helped Sonia dismount. “I’ll take the ring as an omen of good things to come.” He took something from his pocket and flipped it into the air and then caught it in his palm.
“What’s that, your good-luck charm?” Not that Sonia believed in luck, but Ty might.
“No.” The laughter in his eyes died for a second. “A worry stone.” He handed her the rock, granite stone polished smooth and painted with a cardinal.
The paint had almost worn off, worked by his thumb on many occasions she presumed. A worry stone made about as much sense as any other effort to find peace apart from Christ. “Does it help?”
Knight Music Page 8
