by Gayle Roper
“You didn’t actually believe his sanctimonious lies about protecting the people, did you?”
“Well, no,” I said weakly. “But money?” I looked at him in dismay and he stared stonily back. While I hadn’t been naive enough to believe his stated rationale, I’d never imagined he’d been paid for his betrayal.
Irene laughed, sounding like the evil queen in Snow White. “Not the Intell. People magazine. They called us for a statement to include in the story he sold.”
National shame and humiliation.
She turned back to Mr. Geohagan. “I’ll get you, old man. You can depend on it.” She reached for him again, grabbing a wrist and squeezing, squeezing. “You’ll know the taste of gall, and you’ll hurt like you didn’t know you could hurt.” She leaned over and hissed in his face like Cleopatra’s asp. “You’re a dead man.”
“Stop it!” I yelled, running around the bed. “You’re going to kill him!”
“Yes!” she yelled. “Yes!”
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her, dragging her back from the bed. “Help!” I screamed. “Help!”
It took all my strength to pull the woman away, so great was her fury. We stood locked together, my face buried in her back, while she fought to get free. Then slowly she calmed; slowly she began to breathe more evenly.
“I’m okay,” she finally spit. “Let go.”
I had just released her when a nurse and an aide arrived in belated response to my screams. The nurse gasped at what she saw.
Irene and I looked with her at the bed. Irene smiled. Then she turned and calmly walked through the door.
“Out!” the nurse screamed at me as I stood frozen. She leaped astride Mr. Geohagan and began the first movement of the Resuscitation Ballet. “Crash cart!” she yelled at the aide, who was already running.
I stood alone in the hall and watched the personnel and machines pour into Mr. Geohagan’s room. I watched alone as the same people walked defeated from the room, wheeling the machinery before them. I cried alone as the nurse walked up to me and said, “I’m sorry.”
22
I found myself in the woods, sitting beside the little pond I had painted not too long ago. The brilliant leaves were now gone from its surface, and the surrounding oaks, poplars, and maples were drained of color, the few clinging leaves brown and shriveled. But the burble of the tumbling water was somehow comforting, its gurgling music soothing.
I watched a bubble detach itself from the froth of the little waterfall and float in circles on the pool’s surface. Suddenly it burst, gone forever, never to be seen again.
Like Mr. Geohagan.
I’d slept little last night, his voice with its various shadings and emotions running through my mind like a loop of audio tape.
“Did I ever tell you that you remind me of my daughter, Cathleen?”
“You can’t trust men who go to church, Kristie. They’re too dumb to know what a wonderful woman you are.”
“I spent the last couple of days worrying about you. First there was that louse, What’s-his-name, and then those men last night. Are you really all right?”
“You don’t have any acquaintance with hate, do you.”
I lay my face on my knees and let a fresh wash of tears wet my jeans. I hadn’t cried over Clarke, maybe because the hurt went so deep, but the absolute finality of Mr. Geohagan’s rejection of God and the unalterable reality of his death undid what little emotional restraint I had left.
The Zooks had been so kind to me, so solicitous. Mary had hugged me and John had prayed with me—in High German—asking God to ease my heart’s hurt. If I hadn’t understood the words, I’d understood the tone, felt the concern.
And Jake. Early this morning he’d been in the great room as I tried to force myself to eat, and he’d taken my hand in his.
“I’m sorry, Kristie,” he said. “I know how much the old man meant to you. I’m sorry he died and—” he swallowed hard, “—And I’m sorry for everything else too. I hope you’ll forgive me.” He smiled awkwardly and turned bright red. “Uh, I’m going to my first GED class Monday.”
I smiled weakly. “Good,” I whispered. “I’m glad.”
Then I went outside and walked and walked, trying to come to terms with Mr. Geohagan as the complex and all too human man that he had been. Encourager and destroyer. Kindly friend and implacable enemy. Lover of family and hater of any who harmed them. My cheerleader and my manipulator.
I finally came to the patch of woods with the pool and sank onto my rock. So much had happened in so little time. My head and heart swam.
Monday I had had the discussion with Jake about hiding behind his family’s faith. Judging by his kindness this morning, he had finally forgiven me.
Tuesday Clarke had come to my rescue—and then left to fly home with Mary Ann.
Wednesday Barnum Hadley had showed up.
Thursday Ruth got married and Adam’s perfidy was revealed.
Friday Cathleen’s involvement with Adam became common knowledge, Mr. Geohagan made the absolute choice to hate instead of to know God, and Irene got her supreme revenge.
No wonder I was weary beyond concentration.
Oh, God, at least You’re always there and always dependable.
I don’t know how long I sat staring at the bubbling water as it leaped fearlessly over the edge of its falls, joyously seeking what came next, singing as it went. I decided that I most certainly wasn’t up to leaping and singing, not up to being joyous. I wouldn’t be for a long time. But I knew I wanted—I needed—to move on with God.
Whatever waits ahead, God, I want to go through it with You. I choose You. I choose Your way.
Both the silence of the woods and the babbling of the brook seemed confirmation from God that we had a pact. We sat quietly together, He and I.
I thought that sometimes this choice would put me at odds with my parents. I wanted their approval and encouragement, but what if I never got it?
I’d been willing to forgive Mr. Geohagan for putting me in danger. Surely I could find the strength to forgive my parents for trying to force me into their mold. I thought of the young Clarke forgiving his parents for going to Brazil.
“I’ve learned to be content whatever the circumstances.”
“Lord, give me the grace to let go of the need to be understood. Help me—”
I broke off as the woods came alive with the sound of someone charging ahead, twigs snapping, leaves crackling. I jumped to my feet, back in the unpleasant and fearful memories of the man who had accosted me here before.
“Kristie!” called the man thrashing his way in my direction. My heart began to pound. I turned and managed to take a step or two before he reached me, but that was it. He grabbed me with an intensity and ferocity that undid me.
“Shh.” Clarke pulled me close. “Don’t cry. It’ll be all right. I’m never leaving you again. Oh, Kristie, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with you when you needed me!”
Then I really cried, soaking the front of Clarke’s jacket.
“He never believed,” I sobbed. “He chose to hate.”
“Some people do,” he said, stroking my hair. “God doesn’t force us to trust in Him. Jesus may have died for the world, but all the world doesn’t believe. For His own reasons, God allows that.”
“But it’s so sad! It’s bad enough to have him die, but to have him die in unbelief breaks my heart.”
He held me as I snuffled some more. Finally I pulled back and we both stared at the huge wet spot on the front of his jacket.
“It’s supposed to be waterproof,” he said in a disillusioned voice.
“You should never believe advertising claims,” I hiccupped, running a shaky hand over my eyes, wiping away my tears. At least I hadn’t put on mascara, so I didn’t look like a raccoon. Just very red rimmed. And blotchy. Oh, well. He might as well find out how the real me looked now. It’d save him the shock later.
“Now tell me, guy,” I said, trying to
sound at least a tad self-possessed. “What are you doing here? Where did you come from?”
“From home, of course,” he said.
“I thought you were gone for good, off with the fair Mary Ann.”
He looked at me quizzically. “We just went home to visit Mom and Dad. Mary Ann’s been on the road for a year, so this was a family reunion of sorts. My only regret was that I couldn’t take you along too.”
Mom and Dad? Family reunion? I looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Just who is Mary Ann?”
“She’s my younger and only sister. Why?” Then he understood and began to laugh, having a wonderful time at my expense. “You thought…” He couldn’t finish the sentence for his laughter.
I stood as straight as I could and stared haughtily at him, no small trick when you look as much like a sick chicken as I did. “If you’ll think back, you never told me who she was. All I know is that she kissed you in the church parking lot last Sunday and that you and she flew off together Tuesday night. And you never contacted me after she appeared. Not once.” My voice wavered.
“Poor baby,” he said, cupping my cheek.
I pushed his hand away. “Not that you contacted me much before she appeared, either. If I hadn’t been beaten up so many times, I’d probably never have seen you.”
He looked at me, his smile wide. “I’ve just been waiting to see if Todd was truly a thing of the past,” he said. “Do you know, I fell for you the first time I saw you, holding your cheek, your beautiful face all white and scared. Then you looked at me as we waited in the hospital and said in a haughty, don’t-mess-with-me voice, ‘I was just trying to make decent conversation.’”
“I did not!”
“You did, sweetheart. I recognized you as a woman of spunk even then.”
“Spunk! You like me because I’ve got spunk?” I was appalled. Where was the romance? The appreciation of all my finer qualities?
“No,” he said. “I don’t like you because you have spunk. I love you because you have spunk. And a kind heart. And a godly spirit. And the cutest red nose.” He bent and kissed it, and then he hugged me again.
“I…I love you too,” I whispered into his shoulder. “I died a little each day when I thought you were gone forever.” My arms tightened around him. “Don’t leave me again, okay?”
Clarke tilted my chin. “Never,” he said. “I promise.” And he kissed me.
Then we sat together on my rock, his arm around my shoulders, my arms wrapped around his waist.
“About my sister,” he said as his hand played with my hair, my very messed up hair. “Mary Ann showed up unexpectedly Sunday morning. She sings with a Christian contemporary group, and they were driving from southern New Jersey, where they had sung Saturday night, to Harrisburg for afternoon and evening concerts. They dropped her off on the way through, and I was to drive her to Harrisburg. I didn’t even know she was due in the area or I’d have made sure I took you to hear her sing. She has a wonderful voice. I looked for you Sunday morning to take you to Harrisburg with us, but I didn’t see you.”
“I was in kindergarten church. I got an emergency call Saturday night and covered for a woman with a sick child.”
He made a face. “All I knew was that I couldn’t find you before or after the service, and Mary Ann kept saying that we had to go because she couldn’t be late. Then she had this past week off, and she stayed with Aunt Betty Lou and Uncle Bud until Tuesday evening when we went home. I wanted you two to get to know each other, so I called Monday evening as soon as I got home from work, but Jake said you weren’t there. He said he’d give you my message.”
“You called Monday night?” I felt like the guys in that ad about missed calls of consequence because of no bars, only mine was no phone. But he’d called!
“I also called Tuesday as soon as I thought you’d be home from school. When I said I had to leave town and absolutely must see you before I left, Jake said he didn’t know where you were. Finally, when we left for the airport, we stopped at the Zooks’. Mary told me you were at the storage garages.”
“You called Tuesday?”
“And Wednesday and Thursday and Friday. Several times.”
“And Wednesday and Thursday and Friday? Several times?”
Clarke took me by the shoulders and gently shook me. “Do you always repeat what people say? You’ve got to get your own phone again, you know.”
Clarke had called! He had tried to reach me!
“I didn’t know you called,” I said. “Jake never told me. He was mad at me.”
Clarke nodded. “I know. Really mad. That’s why he didn’t mention the first couple of calls. Then he was too embarrassed to tell. But when you came home last night and told him about Mr. Geohagan, he knew he had to contact me and confess.”
“He called you? That’s why you’re here? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He’s afraid you’re going to beat him up.”
“Not a bad idea. The last few days have been horrible!”
Funny how strong arms can make horrible memories less haunting.
“Anyway,” Clarke said, “Jake called me. I’ve been on the phone, at the airport, in the air, and on the road for hours.”
I noticed for the first time how weary he looked. “All for me?”
“All for you.”
Now that was romantic.
Discussion Questions
People find the Amish culture fascinating. What about it attracts you? What bothers you? What did you learn in the course of reading A Stranger’s Wish that you didn’t know before?
Mary tells Clarke that people should be able to read the Bible and apply it without help from people like him. Is she right? Why or why not? Read Romans 15:15 and 2 Corinthians 3:5. What is the balance here?
Did Kristie fail with Mr. Geohagan? Or waste her time? What does God ask of us in terms of our relationships with others?
Kristie feels misunderstood by her family. Is this an unusual feeling? Have you ever felt it? Over what issues? Read Exodus 20:12 and Ephesians 6:2. What do these verses ask of us?
Mr. Geohagan blames God for Cathleen’s death. What do you think? Read Galatians 6:7. What is the principle that Mr. Geohagan forgot?
Jake is a very complex person. He doesn’t blame God for his paralysis, but he blames the culture in which he was raised for keeping him from God. Your thoughts?
Statistics say that by far the majority of Amish young adults choose to be baptized and join the church. Why do you think this is?
If keeping the Ordnung is so very important to salvation as the Amish say, what about the millions who aren’t Amish and don’t even know the Ordnung exists?
There is no denying that law brings structure. We would not want to be without civil law or we’d have anarchy. But law (like the Ordnung) that governs one’s spiritual life can also bring rigidity and an obsession with keeping every little detail, as well as the idea of earning one’s way to heaven. Such legality is stifling and demeaning. Read 1 Corinthians 6:12 and 1 Corinthians 10:23. What is the balance you find here?
Disagreeing does not mean disrespecting. Kristie disagreed with the Zooks, with Todd, with her parents, with Jake, with Mr. Geohagan. How does she still show respect to these various people?
What is your favorite Kristie characteristic? Is it a quality you’d like to develop in your life? How about Clarke? Jake?
About the Author
GAYLE ROPER is an award-winning author of more than forty books and has been a Christy finalist three times.
Gayle enjoys speaking at women’s events across the nation and loves sharing the powerful truths of Scripture with humor and practicality. She lives with her husband in southeastern Pennsylvania where Gayle enjoys reading, gardening, her family, and eating out as often as she can talk Chuck into it.
Coming in September 2010
the sequel to A Stranger’s Wish…
A Secret Identity
Table of Contents
Acknowledgm
ents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Discussion Questions
About the Author
