Prissie was delighted to learn such a beautiful song, and she was even gladder when Baird ushered them right back to the beginning so everyone could sing through the whole thing again. As the last evermore and evermore faded, he struck a chord on his guitar, and the drums began to thump in time to the beating of her heart. Kester moved over to the keyboard, and the rest of the band joined in, leading the congregation into another song of praise.
When the final chorus drew to an end, the DeeVee’s pastor jogged lightly up the steps onto the stage, Bible in hand. Dennis Kern was a compact, charismatic man in his early thirties with dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He shook Baird’s hand in passing, then turned to the audience. “Amen?” he asked. Dozens of answering amens rang out, something that never would have happened in Prissie’s home church. Wanting to support her friends, she did offer a firm nod.
Another thing that wouldn’t have happened at First Baptist Church was Pastor Kern’s sweater. Prissie hardly knew what to make of it. Over the last few months, they’d attended evening services at the DeeVee often enough for her to get used to a much more casual dress code. However, Pastor Bert’s wife Laura never would have let her husband into the pulpit in a bright red sweater with a big, waving snowman on it. It was outrageously festive, and it didn’t take long to realize that his microphone really was picking up a soft tinkling noise. “Are those jingle bells?” she whispered to Koji.
The young Observer nodded solemnly. “There are six. They seem to represent the snowman’s buttons, although I do not understand their function, since the snowman has no raiment whatsoever.”
“That’s hardly the point!” she muttered in scandalized tones.
Meanwhile, the pastor was casually running through some introductory remarks. “As many of you already know, we’re in the midst of a Christmas sermon series called ‘Naughty or Nice.’ A lot of people, whether they mean to or not, think of God pretty much the same way they think of Santa Claus. If we’re good boys and girls, we get the blessings we deserve, but if life’s lumpier than a sock full of coal, it must mean we’re in the wrong column on the Big Guy’s list.”
Prissie frowned over the man’s casual approach to Bible teaching, but she had to admit he was easy to follow.
“Last week, we chatted about the stuff that lands us in trouble, the thou shalts and the thou shalt nots. But this week, I’m going to address something that’s trickier to pin down. Instead of dos and don’ts, we’re going to look at didn’t dos. If we want to get fancy about it, we’re moving from sins of commission to sins of omission.” With a wry smile, he asked, “Have I lost you yet?”
It was going a little over Prissie’s head, and she jiggled her foot impatiently. But Koji’s fingers gently touched her hand. Leaning nearer, he softly urged, “Do not just hear his words. Listen.”
She gave her “conscience” an injured look. But when she tried to pull away, the young angel gave her hand a friendly squeeze. Turning her eyes to the front, Prissie tried harder to understand what the pastor was saying.
Dennis Kern was asking, “Have you ever forgotten something?”
Prissie sat up a little straighter.
“Not on purpose, of course,” the pastor assured. “In fact, it was probably something small—a phone call you meant to make, an offer to pray for someone that never quite happened, a casual promise that’s suddenly inconvenient to keep.” He waved his hand. “Small things. Inconsequential. I can hear you now, saying ‘It’s no big deal, Denny. Don’t sweat the small stuff!’ But before you shrug off the things we let slide, let me ask you this: how do you know they weren’t important?”
Prissie tried not to fidget, but it wasn’t easy. She already knew that little things could be positively providential. God used them all the time around her angelic friends. What’s more, she didn’t need to be told she was forgetting something. She’d admitted that! Still, she was willing to keep listening if it would clear up the divine message she’d received.
The pastor went on. “Have you ever bitten your tongue when you knew you should have spoken up? Have you ever slouched a little lower in your seat when you should have taken a stand? I know I have, and afterward, I was plagued by a whole mess of coulda-shoulda-wouldas! Now, I’m not saying that as Christians we need to be ever-ready do-gooders. But I am saying that we can’t hope to please God if we’re a bunch of do-nothings!”
While he waited for that to sink it, Pastor Kern flipped open his Bible, casually glanced at a passage, then continued. “The Bible urges us to turn the other cheek, not to turn a blind eye. We may all agree that turning our back on someone in need is naughty, but is it easy to turn aside from our own plans in order to do the nice thing?” Scanning the audience with a small grin, he added, “And while I’m trying to turn another phrase, you may as well turn with me to… .”
A ripple of amusement filtered through the gymnasium, and the lights came up so people could see their Bibles. Prissie followed along and heard him out, but by the time Pastor Kern was winding up, she wasn’t any clearer on what Milo’s message meant for her. Glancing guiltily at Koji, she wondered if her friend would be disappointed in her.
When she tuned back in, Pastor Kern was saying, “Put simply, there’s the naughtiness of doing wrong, and there’s an equally naughty sin of neglect, of not doing what’s right. Nobody wants to be caught red-handed, but in the eyes of the Lord, it can be just as bad to be caught empty-handed.”
Prissie knew she wasn’t getting something, and she knew it was important. However, she was glad that one way or another, God had made sure her hand wasn’t empty. Giving Koji’s hand a squeeze, she felt a little better when he squeezed back.
5
THE
PROTECTOR’S
LESSON
That Hedge needs clipping,” grumbled the lumpish figure lurking behind a dumpster.
“Be my guest, Murque,” his companion replied smoothly.
Drawing his wicked blade, the demon growled, “Say the word, my lord.”
“Not just yet,” Adin murmured. “We’ll give them time to grow lax. Let them believe they have thwarted us.”
“Believing in lies, that’s what.” Murque’s beady eyes squinted at the rooftop of the bakery. “Too bad you didn’t snatch her at Halloween.”
“Yes,” Adin replied darkly. “Next time.”
With a malicious smirk, the demon pushed his luck. “Bet you didn’t expect to find a First One haunting the alley that night.”
Adin frowned. “That meddler is cleverer than he seems.”
“Seems a fool to me,” countered Murque. “Strolling into danger without so much as a dagger.”
“And yet, you fled,” his lord mocked.
“So bright!” the cringing demon complained. “Too bright, and that song!”
Adin’s expression hardened, and he whirled, stalking back the way they’d come. “Yes,” he conceded in tones of disgust. “Driven before the light like the shadows we are.”
After school on Friday, Prissie and Koji hightailed it from the bakery over to The Curiosity Shop for a visit. “Harken, can we talk?” she asked as soon as the pleasantries were out of the way.
“Of course, child. What’s on your mind?”
She huffed in frustration. “I’m not sure!”
With a deep chuckle, Harken commented, “That’s not as uncommon as you might think. Why don’t you start talking? Perhaps, you’ll work your way closer to the heart of your concerns.”
“But where do I start?”
Flashing a broad smile, he suggested, “Let’s start by going into the garden. Gardens are good places for beginnings.”
“Yes, please!” Prissie replied, brightening considerably. She’d come to love the ornately carved blue door in the back room of Harken’s store, for it led to a secret place that was bathed in heaven’s own light. Turning the glowing door knob, she slipped right out of time and into a forest glade where it was always summer.
Following Koji’s example,
she took off her jacket and boots, folding them neatly before laying them aside. It was exhilarating to be able to shed layers in the middle of winter, but she resisted the urge to flop in the grass like Koji did. It would have been undignified.
A sudden crack and clang sounded overhead, making Prissie jump. She quickly searched for the source of the sound. “It is easier to watch if you lie down,” Koji said, beckoning for her to join him.
In the past, even when other angels were here, this place had been hushed and serene. Today was the first time that something else was going on. Sitting down and smoothing her skirt over her legs, Prissie asked, “Are they fighting?”
“Young Marcus often takes his lessons here,” Harken explained.
Looking up into the seemingly endless swirl of light overhead, she watched in awe as two angels wheeled. Jedrick’s wings flashed with emerald hues as he dipped and whirled with amazing agility. Marcus circled above him and dropped toward his sparring partner. Swords glinted, and another metallic crash rang out.
Prissie leaned back on her elbows, intrigued by the display. After a while, she noticed a pattern to the aerial dance, for the golden-winged angel seemed to be making mistakes. Then she realized that Jedrick was demonstrating, and Marcus was mimicking. This was a Protector’s lesson on how to fight midair.
She was impressed in spite of herself. Marcus acted as if it was nothing to swoop and pivot high above the ground. Offhandedly wondering if she’d still be afraid of heights if she could fly, Prissie asked, “Do you ever wish you had wings?”
“No. I am content as I am,” Koji replied.
“Lots of people wish they could fly like a bird,” she remarked. “Or that they had super powers or magical abilities.”
“I wish to please God,” the young Observer answered seriously. “For that, I have only to do what I have been made to do. Besides, if I wanted to fly, I could simply ask Harken.”
“I’ve been known to give rides to young friends,” acknowledged the Messenger, who’d joined them on the grass.
“It must be nice in a way, not having any choice,” Prissie mused aloud.
“In what sense?” inquired Harken.
“Well, Koji is an Observer, so as long as he’s observing, he’s doing what he should. You’re a Messenger, so you deliver messages … right?”
“Regularly,” he agreed with a warm smile.
“It’s different for me,” she complained. “People are really relieved that Neil’s figured out what he wants to be when he grows up. Since I’m next in line, they’re starting to ask me if I’ve thought about the future.”
“And you can’t answer them?”
“No,” she sighed, her eyes fixed on the sky. “I don’t like to think about growing up and moving away. Everything will change.”
“That’s a ways off,” the shopkeeper soothed.
“Tad, Neil, Ransom, April … even Jude knows exactly what he wants to do when he grows up,” she argued.
“Circumstances led to Neil’s decision, and Jude’s plans are natural enough,” Harken said. “It may be that your circumstances will lead you toward the future God has in store.”
“What kind of circumstances?” Prissie asked suspiciously.
“Usual ones. Unusual ones. Who can say?”
“We are circumstances,” Koji declared.
Prissie’s expression softened. “Unusual ones.”
“The things you experience today help shape your understanding of tomorrow,” Harken added.
“Head’s up, kiddo!”
She glanced skyward only to duck with a squeak of alarm as Marcus zoomed in low over their heads. The young Protector’s blade was sheathed, so it wasn’t as if he was attacking, but Prissie still glared for all she was worth as he landed a short distance away. He tossed a casual wave their way, but a sharp call from overhead brought his attention back to his mentor. In a flash, he drew his sword and raised it to meet Jedrick’s heavy blow.
“Footwork,” the Flight captain chided.
With a short nod, Marcus dug in with his boots, and they returned to fighting, this time on the ground. The broad-shouldered Protector brought his blade to the ready and waved his apprentice forward, encouraging him to go on the offensive. With a surge of golden light, the younger angel charged. Prissie thought it strange to see a guy who’d just been slouching through the halls at school with a backpack hanging from one shoulder now lunging and slashing with a blade that looked sharp enough to do some serious damage.
Jedrick remained calm in the face of the attack. His muscular arms made the large sword with the blue gem in its pommel seem light, even though Prissie knew it had to be heavy. Marcus’s sword was neither as long nor as broad, but it was a deadly enough weapon, reminding her once again that there were enemies outside of this place, dangers she could only imagine … and didn’t want to think about.
The memory of a starry sky filled with warriors flitted across her mind’s eye, but Harken chimed in then, inquiring, “So is that what you wanted to talk about today? The future?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, not really. It was something about Milo’s message.”
“Was my apprentice unclear?” the Messenger inquired lightly.
“I understood him,” Prissie quickly assured. “It’s the message I don’t understand.”
Harken gestured for her to continue. “What was the message?”
“Trust, listen, and remember,” she listed.
The old man tapped his chin. “Listening may be the most difficult of the three.”
“I’d think it was the easiest!”
“Yes, it sounds easy enough,” Harken agreed. “It’s like … have you ever had trouble paying attention in class? Your mind strays, but the teacher hasn’t stopped talking. Their words flow right past, but in your distraction, you’re tuning them out.”
With a faint blush, she replied, “I guess.”
“That’s the difference between hearing and listening,” he explained.
Koji interjected, “Shimron says it is as important to listen wisely as it is to listen well.”
Prissie’s brow furrowed, but Harken nodded. “It can be difficult to sift the truth from lies.” With a searching look, he restated, “You’re unsure what you should be listening for … and what you’ve forgotten … but do you know whom you can trust, Prissie?”
Shrugging a little, she mumbled, “I trusted Adin.”
“May I ask about him?” Harken inquired.
“I guess.”
“What kinds of things did Adin say to you?”
She needed to think that over. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t remember what the fallen angel had told her; it was embarrassing to admit that she’d believed him. Adin had seemed so perfect. Very reluctantly, she confessed, “He said I was special, chosen by God.”
“Arguably true.” Harken nodded encouragingly. “What else?”
Prissie fiddled with her skirt, pleating the fabric between her fingers. “He talked about Ephron … and Ransom … and he asked questions I couldn’t answer.”
“Like?”
“Like … why doesn’t God hurry up and tell you where Ephron is? And why am I letting Ransom take my place next to Dad? And he asked me which of my brothers is my favorite.”
Harken’s expression grew solemn. “Did he, now?”
To Prissie’s surprise, Koji grabbed her hand, pulling it into both of his own. “Adin stirred doubts, planted seeds of contention, and sought to divide Prissie from those who love her. I am grateful to God that we are Sent to her defense.”
She didn’t miss the subtle emphasis. “Who’s been Sent? You two?”
“The whole Flight,” Harken replied. “We’re supporting Tamaes, which means looking out for you. Now! If you’ll excuse me, I have a store to mind.”
“Oh! Of course,” she exclaimed, feeling bad for taking up his time. Prissie could see why her father had confided in Harken when he was her age. “Thank you for listening.”
> “Any time,” he replied, making his reply a promise. “And stay as long as you like.”
Since she wasn’t in a hurry to go back out into the cold, Prissie basked in the warm light filling the forest clearing. As she’d once guessed, watching angels spar was much more interesting than football, but this wasn’t just for sport. These two were cherubim, whose job it was to keep the Fallen at bay. Marcus was obviously young, but he was learning what he needed from his mentor. He was growing stronger through practice so that he could protect people like her.
A quick glance confirmed that Koji was avidly following every move, so she asked, “Do you understand what’s going on?”
“Indeed.”
“Could you use a sword, then?” she asked curiously.
“I have neither the strength nor the skill,” he replied seriously. “And I am ill-equipped to defend myself.” Marcus was blocking Jedrick’s blows with his sword, and as she had noted once before, neither of them used any kind of shield. Just then, something happened that made Prissie lean forward. “What was that?” she whispered.
“Watch closely. They are sure to demonstrate again.”
Sure enough, after a short interval, Marcus went on the offensive, swiftly launching himself at his mentor with sword upraised. Instead of bringing up his weapon, Jedrick’s wings flashed forward, and to her amazement, they deflected the blow. “His wings!” she exclaimed. “He used his wings!”
“An angel’s wings are a strong defense, shielding from blows of friend or foe,” Koji recited. “They can also become a shelter from wind and weather, or a quiet place for healing and rest.”
As she watched, the tables turned, and this time, Marcus’s wings came around, the edges blending together in a seamless arc of light. “I never would have guessed,” she murmured.
The Protector’s lesson had already ranged from midair to a ground battle. Without warning, it changed again, and both angels were on the move. Prissie’s jaw dropped as she twisted to follow the action. “What in the world …!” she exclaimed. Jedrick and Marcus still crossed blades, but in a crazy rush as they wove in and out between trees. Their heavy boots thudded over the grass, and they added tight wingbeats for bursts of speed. All the commotion shook leaves loose from the trees, and Marcus caused the slender trunk of a young sapling to bow by using it to change directions without slacking his pace. “Is this really training, or are they just showing off?”
The Broken Window Page 5
