The Pages of Her Life

by James L. Rubart

  “This isn’t the first time it hasn’t changed.”

  “No.” Allison pressed two fingers into her forehead. “But I really needed it this time.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “You could be right about needing it this time, but . . .”

  “I could be wrong.”

  “Yes.” Richard leaned back for a few moments and the sun lit up his face. “Maybe the journal knows what it’s doing. Maybe as much as you’d like an answer, this isn’t the time. Maybe the journal knows it’s not good for you to rely too much on it.”

  “The journal knows?” She laughed. “You say that like it’s alive.”

  Richard leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Speaking of alive, what is it that lies dead within you, Allison?”

  Allison frowned at him. “What?”

  “Within you are things that once lived but do so no longer. Do you know what they are?”

  “I’m not following you, Richard.”

  Richard looked to the sky as if trying to remember something, and then he closed his eyes and spoke.

  “‘The hand of the Lord was on me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

  “‘I said, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”

  “‘Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’”

  “‘So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.

  “‘Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come, breath, from the four winds and breathe into these slain, that they may live.’” So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army.’”

  As he finished, Richard opened his eyes, full of compassion and fire, and turned to Allison.

  “From the book of Ezekiel,” she said.

  “Yes.” Richard’s eyes grew more intense. “It’s time for you to speak to your dry bones, Allison. Call them to life.”

  “How? That’s just a story.”

  “Whether you believe it or not, you are standing before the dry bones. Your dry bones. You are in the valley. And that valley seems deep, full of darkness. But that is an illusion because the valley is full of light, if you would speak it into being. Now is your time. To speak life into them.”

  “What are my dry bones?”

  “Ah yes.” Richard held up a finger. “That is the question. What are they, Allison? Do you know?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? The partnership. Getting my mom out of debt. Having a better working relationship with Linda. And Derrek. Finding a relationship again. And the big one, letting go of the fact my dad never loved me like he loved my brother.”

  “Those are your dry bones.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” Richard nodded. “Then you know what to do.”

  “No, I don’t.” Allison clenched her fists. “I might know what they are, but I don’t know how to speak them into existence. You think I can say poof! and all those problems will be solved?”

  “According to your belief, it will be done.”

  “No, not that again, please.”

  “What do you believe, Allison?”

  “No, Richard. No.”

  “You want God to do this for you. You want him to sweep in and make things right at work, to change Derrek and change Linda and give you what you think is yours. All humans would like it to be that way. You’re not alone in that. But that is not your path. Your path is to speak into existence what does not exist. She’s in there, the true Allison. I see her, but you must speak to her, draw her out. But even that is not enough. Just as the bones were upright and covered with flesh and skin but had no breath in them, you must breathe into your dry bones till they live again.”

  thirty-six

  MOST OF THE FOLLOWING WEEK passed uneventfully. Allison worked on three different projects and tried to process her talk with Richard. Thankfully her interaction with the rest of the staff was minimal, till Derrek appeared in the doorway of her office just before three o’clock on Wednesday afternoon. He knocked twice on the frame with a soft touch and gave her a funny smile.

  “Hi, Derrek.”

  “Hello, Allison.” He stepped inside. “Do you have a moment?”

  “Sure.”

  Derrek pushed the door closed. “Do you recall the other day when I told you God was in control and we would find you other accounts?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thomas handed in his resignation letter yesterday. He’s going to work full-time at his church as an associate pastor, which will be an excellent position for him. Consequently, we’re going to disperse a portion of his accounts to you and Sam.”

  “What?”

  Derrek smiled. “Thus, starting with your next paycheck you will have an increase in pay.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. The commission won’t be as high as if you’d acquired the account yourself, but you will get a portion of the commission Thomas was receiving.”

  “I . . .”

  “Would you like to know how much these additional accounts will raise your pay?”

  Allison blinked and resisted the urge to pinch herself. “Sure.”

  “This is only an approximation—I haven’t finished checking the numbers, so potentially the end result could be up or down half a percentage point—but you’ll immediately start receiving an approximately fifteen percent increase in your overall pay.”

  Allison stared at him, not comprehending his words. This was it. It still wasn’t enough, but it would be a big step toward making the increased payments to her dad’s creditors. And even more, it was an infusion of hope that things would eventually work out at Wright Architecture.

  “I don’t know what to say, Derrek. I . . . I . . . Thank you.”

  “Thank you is more than enough.”

  He spun to go, opened the door, then turned back, a twinkle in his eye. “Also, I have an unrelated question for you. Do you have a few more minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  “How long have you been working here?”

  “Two months.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought.” He closed the door again and leaned against it. “During that time, how often have you not shown up for work? Or taken time off?”

  What now? He was going to accuse her of taking too much time off? What kind of story had Linda concocted about her being gone when he’d been on his trips?

  “I’ve been here every day.”

  “Yes, that’s what Linda told me.” He rubbed the tip of his nose. “And I’ve monitored the shared computer drives. You’ve worked long hours every week. As well as from your home.”

  Allison only nodded.

  “I’ve heard you say in the past that you enjoy the ocean, the Oregon coast in particular. If that sentiment hasn’t changed, what would you think about heading down there for an extra-long weekend at the end of this week?”

  What? Was he actually suggesting she take a break?

  “We did some work a few years back on a hotel down in Cannon Beach, and they paid us partially in trade certificates. Certificates that expire at the end of this year. You’re welcome to take enough for a four-night stay. And you can have Monday and Tuesday off without it counting again
st your vacation-day total.”

  Wait. He wasn’t going to accuse her of not working hard enough? Derrek was suggesting she take a long weekend? Four emotions filled her at the same time. First emotion, warmth. He cared about her wellbeing? Wanted her to get rest and relaxation and play? Why?

  Second, anger. If she was a partner in the company, she should be able to take as many days off as she wanted. Exactly like Derrek did. Exactly like she did for two and a half years with Kayla. She was supposed to feel good because he was encouraging her to take a few days off?

  Third, relief, which swept the other two thoughts away like Seattle rain. That was exactly what she needed. A break. A chance to clear her head, take long walks on the beach. Go for even longer runs. Hike, mountain bike, explore the art galleries in Newport and Cannon Beach.

  Fourth, suspicion. What was the angle behind his suggestion? Things were never free with Derrek. Yet, at the same time, he’d just given her a huge pay increase.

  “It’s simply an idea, Allison. You’ve been working hard. It would do your spirit good, I think, to get some time away. But of course you don’t have to use the certificates.”

  “Oh, thanks . . . Um, I’ll think about it.”

  Her spin-doctor alarm went off inside. Was he working her? There had to be something else behind the compliment, didn’t there? There always was.

  “If you do head down there, be sure to let me know.”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, one more thing. Have you ever flown a stunt kite?”

  “No, I’ve always wanted to but haven’t had the chance yet.”

  “Well, the chance has arrived.” Derrek chuckled. “I have a number of stunt kites that are a tremendous amount of fun to fly, and there’s no place better to fly them than at the beach.”

  Allison stared at him as she sorted through another flurry of thoughts. Offering his kites? A free place to stay? Acknowledgment of her hard work? She stared at him, hoping the surprise in her mind hadn’t made its way to her face.

  “Thank you, Derrek. I’ll give that serious thought. I would like to get back down there. It’s been a long time.”

  “And I’m not telling you when to go. It doesn’t have to be this weekend. The next couple of weeks are a good time for the company. Nothing major coming up that I need you for. And even though a couple of things haven’t gone your way lately, I have no doubt they will, and I’m hoping you see the new accounts from Thomas as an indication of my confidence in you. And the start of many new accounts. However, to be in the best position to land new accounts, you need to be refreshed.”

  He straightened up and tapped the wall of her office. “Just let me know if you decide to head down there.”

  “Will do. Thanks again, Derrek.”

  She’d gone to the Oregon coast with her family as a kid, and she had spent an anniversary with her ex at a spot about halfway down one year, but that had been ages ago. She missed the waves, the briny air, the solitude. It was a place like few others where she connected with God. It was far past time to go back. Just before Derrek shut the door behind him, she called out, “I don’t need to think about it, Derrek. I’d love to go.”

  “Excellent. I’ll get the certificates ready as well as the kites.”

  Derrek smiled, a genuine smile that gave her hope, that spurred her to ask the question he’d been deflecting.

  “Derrek, since we’re on the subject of new accounts and company growth, can we talk about our partnership? I know you’ve been busy. So have I, but we need to get it done.”

  Derrek shifted to his left and nodded. “I’m glad you brought that up. Yes. Certainly we can talk. Here’s a thought: why don’t you take a few hours during your time down in Cannon Beach to determine exactly what you think the details of the partnership should look like now that we’ve had some time to work together, and I’ll do the same. Then, as soon as you get back, we can nail things down and finalize it. It has been far too long, and we need to reach a conclusion.”

  Another smile and an authoritative nod.

  She looked at him, stunned. He meant it. They would finally get their partnership finished. She could get her mom taken care of in months, not years. In less than five minutes her world had changed, and for the first time in ages, she let hope fully bloom inside.

  thirty-seven

  AS THEY CLIMBED UP TO the wheelhouse, Parker said, “Does he always treat new hires this way?”

  “Nope.” Abraham laughed. “Certain people tend to tick him off. That’s because he’s a little off.” Abraham tapped his head. “Up here. And it makes him mean. And sometimes he loses it and takes it out on people he doesn’t like. But if it helps, you’re not alone.”

  Abraham raised his thick coat to reveal a Mr. Rogers T-shirt. He lifted that halfway up his torso to reveal a long, thin scar that ran down the left side of his body and across his stomach.

  The man grinned. “At first he didn’t like me. Threatened to kill me, but I got away with nothing more than this impressive scar.”

  “Are you crazy?” Parker stared at the scar till the tall man dropped his T-shirt and coat back over his stomach. “Why didn’t you report him? Even if you didn’t, why would you continue to work for Logan?”

  “Good question.” Abraham stepped inside the wheelhouse and Parker followed. Dawson was peering at a number of instruments, heard them, and looked up.

  Parker nodded to Dawson, who only grunted, then turned back to Abraham. “Well, you have an answer?”

  “There’re much worse things than a small nick from a slightly deranged fishing boat captain.”

  “Small nick? Slightly?”

  “There’s a lot of good in him too. So since there is, if I were you, I’d be looking for that. Not trying to prove something.”

  “What?” Parker glared at Abraham. “I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone.”

  “Oh?” Abraham cocked his head. “Good to know.”

  “Where do you get that idea fro—”

  Before Parker could finish, someone lashed their arms around his chest from behind and pinned Parker’s arms to his sides. He was yanked off his feet like a doll. Parker flung his head back, hoping to crack his head against his assailant’s chin or face, but the only thing he accomplished was to make a sharp pain shoot through his neck. His captor squeezed tighter, and Parker thought his lungs were about to collapse. It had to be Logan. Parker cracked his heels into Logan’s shins, but the action was like kicking an iron post.

  Logan carried Parker through the door of the wheelhouse and flung him to the deck. His knees slammed into the deck and he rolled three feet before stopping. He rose to his elbows and knees, but before he could stand, Logan shoved him over again, thrusting a well-placed boot against his shoulder. He came to rest with his upper back shoved up against the starboard side of the boat.

  “Get up!” Logan’s gritty voice seethed with disgust.

  The instant Parker stood, Logan slammed him against the railing, where the small of his back took the brunt of the blow. “What do you think you’re doing, Rook?” Logan slammed Parker against the railing again and swore as spit flew out of his mouth.

  “Argh!” A bolt of pain shot through Parker’s lower back and radiated down his legs.

  “Yeah?” Logan pressed his face into Parker’s. “That hurt? Is that what you’re trying to spit out?”

  Logan pressed Parker against the railing in the same spot where he’d taken the first impact. Spikes of pain shot through his lower back like a knife being jabbed into his spine.

  “Or are you trying to ask permission to take a swim? Huh? Which one is it, Rook?”

  Parker sucked in uneven breaths and tried to focus on Logan’s wild eyes.

  “What is your problem, Logan?”

  “Am I stupid, or did I tell you to stay out of the wheelhouse?”

  Rage surged through Parker, and he ignored the pain in his back and popped Logan’s shoulders as hard as he could with the palms of his hands. The big m
an staggered back a few steps and his mouth turned up in a mocking grin.

  “That all you got?” His grin widened. “Or is that your warm-up? Maybe it’s an invitation. You want to take a swing at me? Is that it? Why not? You’re not that small, and you’ve already lost the extra you were carrying around your gut. So let’s rumble.”

  Logan stepped back and beckoned with both hands. “Just you and me. Right here. Right now. Come on. Let’s go. You know you want to.”

  Logan grinned and swore as he moved toward Parker, fists up, feet shuffling. Parker had never studied any kind of martial arts, never joined his dad’s training sessions with Joel or Allison, but he’d been in his share of schoolyard fights growing up, and he’d been training on the muk yan jong sparring post for months now. And the one thing he had learned from his dad was never to be scared of anyone. He’d also taught Parker the simple formula for winning fights like this one. Hit first, hit hard, don’t stop. Parker stared at Logan, whose grin had grown even wider. The bigger man could probably take him out with one or two shots. Parker didn’t care. This wasn’t about winning. The only way to get a bully like Logan to back down was to fight till his fists were bloody.

  Parker raised his fists and started toward Logan, who weaved back and forth in a tiny semicircle. But after two strides Parker stopped. Abraham slipped into his line of sight over Logan’s shoulder, leaning against the stairs as if he were on a beach in the Bahamas. His gaze was locked onto Parker’s eyes. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. But it was the expression on his face that stopped Parker. An expression of knowledge and sadness. Parker dropped his hands, tilted his head back, glanced at Logan, then turned away.

  “That it?” Logan opened his palms in disbelief. “We’re not going to party?”

  Parker didn’t trust his tongue, so he said nothing and gave a quick shake of his head. Logan strode off without a word. In seconds, Abraham and Parker were alone on the deck.

  “Why did you stop me?” Parker called out.

  “Stop you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t. You stopped yourself.” Abraham strolled over as he pulled his ever-present cigarette from his ear and spun it around his fingers. “You surprised me. Didn’t expect you to man up like that.”