12 The Enemy Returns
Stephanie wasn’t in the room when Marissa returned. The shower was running and she heard Brianna attempting to scale the notes of a song. The room had been put back together, including her make-up. She glanced around the room looking for the picture. When she did, she noticed that her bed had been made.
Her eyes watered as she rushed to the bed. The picture was tacked to the wall. She reached for the drawing with a shaky hand. As she fingered the cottony paper, an electric tingle ran up her arm.
She removed the tack and stared at the portrait. The curves of her face were penciled in so accurately. How she longed to sustain the serenity portrayed in the picture. She removed the tacks and clasped her peaceful likeness to her heart. You’d think she had an autographed headshot of a celebrity— when in fact it was so much more.
The sketch brought to mind a conversation she had had with her father the month before he died. He’d told Marissa he wanted her to have a good summer and wonderful high school experience. He told her that whatever path led her to a life of joy and laughter, but was accompanied with peace and right doing, was the path she was to take.
She hadn’t thought of his words until that moment when she held the picture close. Hawke had captured that message in his rendering. It was as if her father was speaking to her through the lines on the page.
She promised herself that no matter what happened with Hawke, she would never let go of her father’s words.
She kissed the paper and whispered, “I love you,” as if her father was listening.
~~~
Burton stood front and center as Marissa pulled back the door to the meeting room. The rows were filling up and the solo seat beside Burton gave her the guts to move closer to the stage.
“Can I sit here?”
“Sure.”
“How come you’re not with the boys?”
Burton sighed. “Sometimes you get tired of the same old stuff.”
Marissa knew what he meant. It was the same reason she came on this trip.
Hawke tapped his drumsticks and the room quieted. The smile on his face illuminated the stage, and Marissa joined the seasoned voices for a half hour of singing. So much had happened that day that she wanted to thank God for all her progress.
Sitting beside Burton gave her more confidence with the singing. She clapped along as he moved his feet a bit. She was so surprised she nuzzled him in the arm. Somehow it was easier to sit down front. She suddenly didn’t worry about everyone else behind her. She maintained eye contact with Hawke, who coached her as she sang. A few nods here and there and she felt like part of the crew.
The words were still foreign, but Marissa latched on to them. Soon she raised her voice and got lost in the flow of the music. Three songs later the band closed with a song she’d heard that morning. With all that was in her, Marissa let the words roll off her tongue. She sang from her heart and the message resonated.
The other voices rose in unison like a mighty chorus. The beauty resounded in her ears and she suddenly realized what God had done for her that day. She wrote out the names, and he erased some of the pain. She took a chance at happiness by heading down to the pond. He met her need again, and sent Hawke to ice skate. She was starting to like Him leading her.
Marissa closed her eyes and listened as the sound of harmony filled the room. When the wave of music ended, the silence lingered. Eyes opened slowly as Rod took the stage. The singers and Hawke headed back to their seats. Marissa moved over so he could sit between her and Burton.
Rod announced that he was changing the order of the night and said they were having a “Testimony.” He waved a young boy up front and gave him the microphone. Marissa glanced at Hawke, wondering what was happening.
Hawke slipped his arm around her, and she shifted closer to him. The boy stood center stage and the lights rose softly. Marissa felt an ease settle into her.
Unfolding a piece of paper, the boy cleared his throat and a look of terror filled his eyes. “Three years ago I came to this church after a tragedy struck my family.” The boy dropped his arm and looked up with eyes closed. “My parents had been fighting and they sent us to stay with my aunt for the weekend. We arrived there late at night, and it was a large home. My little brother and I had only been there a few times, and we didn’t quite know the layout.”
The boy started shaking as he went on. “Sometime in the middle of the night, a fire broke out. I woke up and my brother was gone. I rushed out of the house without looking for him. I assumed he made it out before I did. I was always a heavy sleeper. But when I got out to the street, no one else was there.”
The boy opened his eyes and stared at the floor. His voice wobbled. “When the fire truck arrived my aunt and brother were still missing. She had fallen asleep while smoking, and died in the fire. They found my brother in the bathroom. But he suffered brain damage.”
His shoulders caved in as a sob echoed through the speakers. “And until this weekend, I thought what happened to him was my fault.” The boy’s eyes welled up, and Marissa’s did the same.
“I have nightmares all the time. I see flashbacks during the day too. But then,” his body loosened, “then one night, I cried and I kept on crying. I asked God to take away the guilt and pain, and I begged Him to tell me why all this had happened. That’s when a miracle occurred.”
“The ceiling of my room disappeared, and I found myself on the floor of my room peering into the night sky. Without a cloud or haze I saw the stars in a way I had never seen them. And that’s when I remembered that I’d begged my Mom not to drop us off.”
He wiped his eyes. “You see, I had this gut feeling that night that something was going to go wrong. I told my Mom she shouldn’t go. But she wouldn’t listen.”
The boy continued to share the story, diving into details about his first year of high school. He’d partied pretty heavily and found a group of friends who were making meth after school. He said his parents focused so much on his brother that they forgot about him. He started drinking when his mom lost her job. She stayed home to care for his younger brother but the family began falling apart. Soon he was staying out after school and not returning home until the weekend. He was drinking even more heavily and went places he shouldn’t.
“Day by day I got worse. I thought it was my fault, but I am learning that it’s not.”
Marissa thought back to the talks she’d had with her mom. The Christmas after her Dad passed she wanted to be with Sean’s family. Her mother was crushed. She warned Marissa about getting too serious with Sean. But she wouldn’t listen. Had her mother seen the eventual break up, the broken heart and the failed relationships that would follow?
Marissa swallowed hard, trying to forget that her mother cared. She wanted to be angry with her for the things she said, for breaking her and Sean up. But inside she knew that when it came down to it, Sean was the one who left. Her mother had been right.
Marissa shifted in her seat. She smoothed her hands over her pants and tried to refocus on the boy. The room grew silent as Rod walked on the stage. He put his arm around the boy and hugged him. With the microphone in one hand, he held onto the brave soul who shared his story.
He opened up the floor to anyone else who wanted to share. A girl stood up with her best friend, and told a story much like Marissa’s. “My name is Carmen Malone and I was suicidal last year. My best friend ended up sleeping with my boyfriend and I lost it. Until I came here I didn’t think I had many friends. But now I do.”
She continued slowly. “I know some of you think this is weird and that’s okay. You can’t really understand what it’s like to be saved by a loving God, if you haven’t needed rescuing.”
She sniffled. “Last year on one of my attempts, I found myself looking for some rope or belt I could use. I walked into my Mom’s room and took some of her expensive things, figuring that was the only reason she’d come up to my room and find me. My Mom worked all the time and she only cared a
bout her wardrobe and car. It’s like the rest of us weren’t even there.”
“I was ready to do it, to jump off my bed and let myself dangle there— but then my cell rang. It was Kirsten Corbin saying she was just praying for me, and wanted to come by so we could talk.”
“I never felt so confused. But there she was ten minutes later in my driveway. I cried and told her what I had been doing. She convinced my Mom to listen to me and things started to change. It wasn’t easy. I had to pray with Kirsten every day for a month, but let me tell you, when I did that, my heart started to change. I became thankful instead of overwhelmed.”
Hawke slid his arm behind Marissa, and she felt embarrassed. Was he trying to tell her something? Rod called for prayer before she could push Hawke away. He invited the leaders up front and asked everyone struggling to come forward.
Hawke slid out of his seat and Marissa looked at Burton. He leaned forward with his thumbs on his forehead. Two girls stumbled up front, crying as they came. Marissa’s ears clogged as the beat of her heart rumbled inside. She swallowed hard as her nerves spun her stomach like a roller coaster ride.
As the prayers up front continued, the singers walked back on stage. Rod unplugged his guitar and sat behind the keyboard in the corner of the room. From his microphone, he called for more kids to come forward and surround their friends for support.
Rod explained to the group that when someone came forward for prayer, they were surrendering to God and asking for help. Before Marissa could leave, Kirsten slipped in behind her. She rubbed Marissa’s back as she leaned forward. Her heart was heavy and she was full of excuses but the minute Kirsten touched her, she felt the acceptance and love she longed to have.
The heat in her hands warmed her back as the weight of her burdens grew. Rod kept talking, pricking her conscience. She suddenly felt ill. Kirsten leaned over the chair and prayed.
“Father, You see the memories and shame inside this young girl. And you have the power to remove guilt and sin. Let her not be afraid, God. Hold her close to Your heart. Wipe away her fears. Show her a bright future and give her the will to forgive and let it all go.”
Kirsten rubbed her back. “This is not an easy task, Marissa. It’s like pulling out a knife. Once it’s in, it grabs onto our organs and it hurts more to take it out.”
The symbol of the knife spoke loud and clear. She took in what she could but her mind was flooded from the prayer. The session ended and Hawke waited up on stage.
When Kirsten hugged Marissa and handed her some tissues, he finally approached her with his arms open wide. “Feel better?”
She smiled as her wet face pressed against his defined chest. “I haven’t felt this alive in years. I don’t even know what happened.”
The room emptied one by one. Hawke led her out of the aisle and over to the fireplace in the back of the room. They sat on the rock ledge, both staring out the window.
Hawke drew his leg up and rested his chin on his knee. “You look so peaceful.”
She smiled just thinking about it. “Just like your picture.”
“It’s surreal isn’t it? To feel Him close to you like that?”
“There are no words. It’s like being scared and breathless at the same time. It’s really amazing.”
“The same thing happened to me about a year and a half ago. Everything just erupted one night ¾ what happened with my parents, their leaving, the arrest, Stephanie, all of it. I must have been beating the drums for a half hour when I just stopped. Time froze. Then this refreshing calm flooded the room like someone had opened a window.
Hawke leaned toward her as Marissa hung on his every word. “I think I slid off my stool at that point.”
She laughed, understanding how tipsy he had felt.
“I’m serious. I remember hitting the floor as if I were desperate. And I was. Later that night I crawled into bed and asked God why this was happening. Why was I still here when all hell had broken loose? And you know what? The more I talked to Him, the more at peace I felt. He steered me through all of it.”
“That night I saw this beautiful tree in a lone field. Across the way was a dark valley and God spoke to me. He said if I kept walking, I’d never find peace, but if I climbed up out of the valley, He’d be there waiting for me. It was my choice.”
Marissa was captivated. “Wow.” Her lips pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I’ve been alone for most of my life and I’m just starting to figure that out.”
Her peaceful gaze settled on him, and she drew her legs up to her chest. She studied his form as he stretched back in the shadows of the fire. “I never believed God wanted anything to do with me until I saw that picture you drew.”
Hawke stared at her as if she were out of her mind. “It was just a picture.”
She moved toward him. “No it wasn’t. None of this was an accident. Not this trip nor us meeting up again.”
She gazed into the fire. “If only I had listened to my heart last year. Then none of this would have happened.”
Hawke stirred. “If only’s are a hard thing.”
Marissa lifted her eyes to his. “I’m serious. If I had been honest with myself then I would have left Sean last spring, before all this happened.” She played with the heel of her shoe. “I knew I was heading in the wrong direction but I went anyway.”
Hawke reached for her. “We all do that. Don’t fool yourself.”
She studied him in the firelight. “You don’t wish we had started this earlier?”
He grew quiet. “Come with me.”
Her heart thundered. Everything about him softened in that moment. The glow of the fire showed the love in his eyes. He tenderly took her hands and led her through the lobby. Opening a door, he walked her down a dark hallway. The silence was sweet. He stepped in behind her and she rested against his chest. The tingle of his arms reaching around her waist made her heart soar.
His steps blended with hers as they walked toward the exit door with its illuminated sign. His hands locked inside hers.
Being with Hawke was like the gentle quiet of a snowy Christmas Eve.
The couple slowed and she expected him to kiss her. Loving the adrenaline of the moment, she looked outside through the glass door. His hands patted the sides of her hair as he pulled at their ends. The moon gave a distinct shine to the frozen treetops.
She looked up at him. She traced his hairline and the rugged facial hair that lined his cheeks. He closed his eyes and cupped her hands against his lips.
He opened his eyes and studied her features in the dim light. Her legs weakened as her trust invited him closer. He leaned down to brush his lips against hers and she moved closer, hoping to catch him halfway. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he pressed his stubbly beard and rough hands against her face. He gave her one kiss, one seal of his affection.
Pulling away, he pressed her head against him and rocked her back and forth. “You’re all I wanted, Marissa.”
Hawke kissed the top of her head and did not let go. She knew what he meant. It had only been one day and already both of their defenses had been torn down.
With her wrists locked on the swell of his back she listened to his heart. There wasn’t a dishonest bone in his body. And she loved that, even if it was too soon to say it.
His lips pulled off of her like rich syrup. “You’re right Marissa. We should have done this last spring.”
She smiled and kissed him again, trying to make up for the nine months of loneliness.
13 Good Intentions
Hawke promised to spend the day doing whatever Marissa wanted, if she would try snowboarding just one time. That was a proposition she had to accept. Who cared if she fell on her butt? At least he’d be there to catch her.
The couple was on their way to breakfast when the topic came up. “So, have you decided? Can I teach you how to snowboard?”
“I have. But you’ve got to do something for me first.”
“What’s that?” he smiled.
His eyes widened. “That’s it? That’s the favor?”
It was an odd choice for a name, even though he had Native American in his ancestry. She was curious. Was that the name on his birth certificate?
“No, it’s not my real name.”
“Then what is it?” she begged.
“It’s Keith Tobias Davies.”
“That’s a very noble, manly name.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely,” she affirmed. And it was. It was a solid name, one to be proud of. “Maybe you could find a nickname for me?”
He turned his head back to hers. “You don’t like Rissa?”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand Rissa. It’s ugly.”
He laughed and pushed her toward the doors. “I’ll work on it, but I’m starving! Let’s eat.”
His smile brightened the cloudy morning. She held on to his coat as he jerked the door open to the lower level of the lodge. They paraded up the stairs, their eyes glued to one another rather than where they were going.
Jedd stood beside Evan as the couple entered the dining hall. Marissa’s smile vanished when they looked her way. Why was it every time she felt happy someone had to come along and ruin it?
Hawke pulled her gently beside him. He kept his attention on Marissa. “Don’t even look at them,” he whispered. He leaned back against the wall and played with the tips of her fingers.
He and Jedd were separated by another couple from the other group. Evan’s eyes narrowed. “You two look a little cozy this morning.”
Marissa dipped her head back. “Is that a problem?”
He tried not to laugh but she could read the amusement in his eyes. “Hey Jedd, what do you get when you cross Clorox with Day Quil?”
“I don’t know,” he tapped his jaw. “Should I ask him?”
Marissa faked a smile, hoping Evan had enough sense to stop. But if a second joke aired, the gloves were coming off.
“Hey, Jedd. If you’re only sixteen and you hit a cop and end up in juvie, how long will it take for you to stop being a loser?”
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