by Sosie Frost
The violence was bred in the raging, unrelenting cacophony of the nightmarish storm.
But now?
The snow was silent.
And bright.
The memories shrouded me in darkness, when day had turned to night trapped within debris and mud. The churning, black sky lurched downwards, blinding the earth within its utter despair.
But snow was bright.
I could see everything and nothing at the same time. A swirling nothingness scarred the world. Purifying it. Burying it.
Every memory, every feeling, every painful wound was frozen then baptized in the beautiful, flawless white. It was a blessing of pure terror. No tracks on the road. No footsteps to mar the perfection.
The cold, immaculate isolation destroyed me with solitude. Beyond the truck, beyond my own arm’s span, nothing existed.
Two years ago, I’d dug through the debris and destroyed wood of the church, and others had helped me. My family. Friends. Community. All digging. All praying. Together.
The snow was my only companion now.
An icy, terrible tormentor.
I drove, but I traveled nowhere. Each mile became a miracle, creeping foot after foot through the sudden drifts and frozen roads. I hadn’t made it out of Butterpond before the snow fell in thick curtains, heavy and oppressive. The electricity flickered before I was out the door. It’d gone out completely by the time I reached town.
No electricity, no pageant.
No pageant, and no church.
No church…
I was nothing without the church.
But I’d be completely lost without Glory and Lulu.
I forced the truck through the snow, immediately fish-tailing across the highway. Snow obscured the lines, the pavement, the horizon. I stared only at the few reflectors visible in the swirling snow as the whiteness stole my breath, sight, heart…
I’d never been so terrified.
Or…rejuvenated.
For the first time in two years, I had a purpose. I knew my place in this godforsaken world and what I was meant to do with the gifts I’d been given.
A gift of clarity. A second chance.
Glory.
I’d been spared in the tornado only to be rechristened in snow and ice. My heart still beat if only to promise it to the one woman who had thawed it from a desolate prison. Glory was in trouble.
I was going to save her.
In that…I had an excess of faith.
The truck shuddered. I knew better than to give it that much gas while climbing the hill, but I couldn’t afford the delay. If the truck stopped in the snow, I’d never get it moving again. Four inches had fallen already, and the storm had barely begun.
It was a curse. It was a blessing. It was the first time in two years that I felt alive.
And yet, my heart froze with every inch of ice that built on the windshield wipers. The inside of the windows frosted, and the wheels thudded, too frozen to grip the road. I drove into nothingness with no idea of where to find Glory. Samson hadn’t found her location, and her phone had lost signal after the cell towers went down.
He didn’t know if she was alone or hurt.
Didn’t know if Lulu was unharmed.
The temperature had plummeted, and the snow was rising.
How long did I have on the roads before the weather claimed me as well?
“Come on…” I gritted my teeth as the truck shuddered and slowed against a rising hill. “Give me something, Lord. Anything.”
Wasn’t sure I could even ask this of Him. For so long, I’d blamed God for my troubles. Insisted it was His fault, His problem, His cruelty that had crippled me in pain and indecision. But I hadn’t understood then, hadn’t realized that the pain was important.
I needed that pain. Had to get lost in the darkness so I could find my way to the light. I needed the crushing despair if only to survive it and become stronger.
A better man for my family, my community…
For them.
Lulu deserved a father and Glory a man who could promise safety and security.
My family was still so lost, fighting each other and their own secrets.
Butterpond needed a church, someone to guide them back to the light and focus on the importance of friendship and compassion.
And, if God had chosen me to lead them, then we’d figure out that pain and forgiveness together.
Flashing lights blocked the road. I hated to stop, but Sheriff Samson waved his hands, rushing over to the truck.
“Varius, what the hell are you doing?” Samson spoke, his breath crystallizing as the winds howled and the snow caked his eyelashes and whiskers. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
“Did you find Glory?”
“No. We’ve gone up and down these roads before closing them. Glory must be somewhere else, hunkered down.”
No.
Faith was a terrible burden. It devoured a man whole then clawed at him from the inside, screaming relentlessly in his mind, heart, and soul. Didn’t matter what a man saw, felt, or heard.
Faith meant he knew exactly what was asked of him.
“She’s out there,” I said. “She’s trapped!”
“We’ve closed the roads.” He shouted over the storm. “You’ve gotta go back. Get to the church.”
Like Hell.
I jammed the truck into gear, warning him away.
“Don’t be a fool, Pastor!”
“Get out of my way.”
“Goddamn it, son!”
Exactly.
God damn me.
Samson knew better than to fight. He backed away from the truck with a frustrated shrug.
“If you get stuck out there, we can’t get to you until the storm breaks!”
I’d been alone for so long, I didn’t know what it was like to expect help anyway. Wasn’t about to start now.
“Not coming back without Glory.”
I’d never let the woman go again. She’d escaped me once, a casualty of my own fear of commitment. But we’d been miraculously reunited during the pageant.
But I’d turned on her again the instant I’d welcomed her into my arms.
I wasn’t just a coward. I’d been an ungrateful fool, taking for granted every second I’d wasted.
Samson waved toward the deputies, and they moved their cars to let me pass. I accelerated, nearly stuck in the snow before I could even enter the highway. Within seconds, police lights were lost in the whiteness.
I couldn’t see. The wind gusted, pelting the truck with pellets of ice and thick flakes. It obscured everything—sky and ground, road, and trees.
How could something so violent remain so silent?
The winds screamed and said nothing. The snow whispered and covered everything.
But I lacked the only voice that mattered.
I’d ignored Him for so long, I didn’t know if I’d recognize it if He did speak to me.
“I don’t ask you for anything anymore…” The words didn’t warm me. I shivered despite the heat blasting into the cabin. “But I know what you want, and you know what I need.”
The prayer scraped my throat. I whispered, desperate and angry, but within me bloomed a reverence I couldn’t understand.
And from that pit of despair, I screamed.
Shouted.
Revealed every last frustration and fear into the silent storm as it raged around the truck.
The snow trapped me in a cocoon of holy light while I begged, pleaded, and accused.
“Don’t you dare take her from me.”
Terrible words poisoned my tongue. Curses of rage, wrath, and violence shadowed the prayer.
I spoke of feelings I’d never allowed myself to feel. Thoughts I’d never voice in worship.
I threatened myself with Hell if only to prove my honesty to God.
“Let me find her.”
I worshiped.
Pure and frustrated.
Angry and betrayed.
I’d lost
everything inside of me, but the rebuild had taken too long, too much, and worn me too thin. In my despair, I’d used Glory as my altar. I’d burdened her with my soul, my confessions, my secrets.
I’d never treated her like a woman. I’d insulted her as a partner.
I’d used her only as my idol, and it wasn’t fair to her, to me…
To God.
I’d tangled my love in a vicious, beautiful web of adoration and wrath, and the realization crippled my soul. For two years, I hadn’t let myself feel anything. Now, I transitioned from numbness to infinity all at once, and it was just as painful as I’d ever imagined.
But I’d survived.
I’d survived because of Glory.
I stared at the road, squinting into the underbrush. A broken tree and flattened weeds marred the piling snow. I slammed on my brakes, nearly spinning in the icy calamity of the road.
The storm tried to hide her, but the tracks were still visible. A car had peeled off the road, careening over the embankment and into the brush.
I parked and forced the truck’s door open into the unrelenting wind. A howling, skin-tearing cold battered the truck. The road caked with ice, and I groaned, tossed to the ground. My shoulder struck the pavement. The chill devoured my exposed flesh, slicing through my bone and muscle, blood and heart.
But a warmth remained.
It hadn’t shredded my soul yet.
I dug through the rising snow, slowly descending the embankment as ice and snow cracked under my feet. Glory’s car rested at an uneasy angle, tilting a little too far to the right. The front end was crumpled. She’d hit a tree.
The car wasn’t running. Was it that badly wrecked, or did she conserve her heat?
I rushed to the passenger window and prayed. Prayed I’d find what I was looking for, or prayed the Lord would turn me to dust if I’d lost them again.
The window fogged with condensation. I brushed away the snow and frost, peeking inside.
Lulu greeted me with a surprised smile and wave of her pudgy fingers. I nearly fell to my knees as she squealed my name.
“Bastard V!”
So, this was what a miracle felt like.
I’d never again lose myself to doubt.
The relief surged through me. I ripped the door open, diving into the backseat with a grunt.
Glory huddled with Lulu on her lap, a blanket wrapped over both of them. Lulu grinned, but Glory looked a little woozy. The bump on her forehead was ugly, but at least she was okay.
Cold and shivering, but okay.
Her mouth fell open, those kissable lips begging for the answers I longed to give her.
“I was hoping for a fat man in a red suit with eight prancing reindeer…” Glory’s words trembled with cold. “But I suppose I’ll take a booty call.”
The words rushed from me, frantic and dire. “Please forgive me.”
I crowded into the backseat, ripping away Lulu’s car seat to edge closer, and didn’t wait for her answer. I leaned in, pressing my lips against Lulu’s head. At least she was warm.
But Glory would never have allowed her to catch a chill.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
She’d never admit it. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Didn’t bring a pizza with you, did you?” Even she couldn’t hide the relief in her voice. “Oh well. At least I have one answered prayer.”
She reached for me. Hesitantly.
I’d never again push this woman away.
I pulled her close, grazing my lips against hers with a heat that would melt the snow. But a finger poked at me. Jealous.
Lulu pouted, a chastisement that would punish me forever. “Kiss Lulu.”
I grinned, leaning down to the baby. She pecked my cheek and grinned.
“Muah!”
I forgot the storm, the howling wind, the ice pelting the earth.
Lulu’s kiss was worth the pain and trauma of the last two years.
Both of them were worth the misery.
What had I done to earn such blessings?
“It was a little icy…” Glory tried to caress my cheek, but her hands were frozen. I adjusted the blanket over them and pulled my jacket off too, tucking it over their bodies. “I called for help, but they couldn’t do anything until the storm was over.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. I can handle myself.”
Where had I heard that before?
“I know…” I stared into her eyes. How had God created a woman so damned beautiful? “But I’m gonna ask for your help.”
Her eyes widened. She was even lovely while stunned. “You…what? Is this a concussion hallucination?”
“I just drove ten miles through a raging blizzard, getting pushed off the road and into snow drifts, freezing myself half to death…” I almost laughed, but the words meant too much. “Just so I could ask for your help. I need you, Glory. I’m asking for you to help me. Save me.”
Glory glanced over the car, the snow, and the wind. “Only if you save me first.”
“What if…we just save each other?”
Her voice softened. “Think it could work?”
“Have a little faith, Glory.”
She smiled. “What the hell are you doing out here? Is this a rescue or an intervention?”
“Both,” I said. “When I heard you were trapped in the storm…”
“You drove recklessly into a blizzard like a jackass?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t about to lose either of you.”
She still shivered, but the fear and tension faded from her beautiful face. “You’re quite the hero.”
“You’re worth the risk.”
“I’m fine.” She frowned. “Not sure about the pageant though.”
“No power. We had to cancel.”
She swallowed. “That’s a lot of lost revenue.”
“Forget it.” I couldn’t believe I uttered the words. “What’s the worst that can happen? The church will just get some fool from Butterpond to be the pastor.”
“Are you that foolish?”
“Certainly act like it.” I looked away, half in shame, mostly in prayer. “Something’s changed in me, Glory. You were trapped out here, and I thought Lulu might have been hurt…I snapped. Or maybe the pieces finally came back together.” I shook my head. “For the first time, I can see through the nothingness, and you are the light leading me out. Guiding me.”
“I haven’t done anything, V.”
“But you have. You showed me that I need you and Lulu at my side. I want us. I want the church. I want everything.”
“Are you…” Glory bit her lip. “Are you sure?”
“You didn’t just save my life. You gave me the reason to start again.”
She leaned close, capturing my lips. But she pulled away instantly, frustrated.
“V, you’ve always had that reason. You said you lost your faith, but I could see it in you. Felt it inside you.”
“You never gave up on me.”
“But I should have…” She blinked, but the tears blinded her anyway. “Are you sure you want me? You have a chance to go back to the church. To lead Butterpond again. What about your reputation? What will happen when they learn the truth about…me?”
“You are a part of me, Glory,” I said. “You’re my everything. If the church won’t accept you and Lulu, then I haven’t done my job. Then they haven’t seen you as the angel you are.”
“You have such faith in me.”
“I have faith in us…” And I’d never be able to explain it. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Glory arched an eyebrow, but she kissed Lulu. The baby giggled, more entertained by her mother’s attention than the storm raging outside her window.
“I understand faith,” she whispered. “More than you know.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“I never told you about Lulu.”
My stomach dropped. “Wha
t about Lulu?”
The baby grinned and pointed at herself. “Lulu!”
“Her real name,” Glory said.
I sighed. “Well…I gotta confess…I’m a little relieved Lulu isn’t her real name.”
Glory grinned, though the smile was lost in a dark memory. “I was alone when I was pregnant. Andre had left. Never really had any parents or home. I had no one to help me. I went into labor early, but it took me too long to get to the hospital. When the ambulance finally got me, they said it was an emergency. Rushed me right into the operating room.” Her words broke. “The umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. They…couldn’t find her heartbeat.”
I stared at the little girl, bright, bubbly, and grinning at me with unbridled adoration.
Glory squeezed her a little tighter. “I had a c-section. The doctors worked as fast as they could, and when they got her out…she started crying. The nurses called it a miracle. Just kept saying, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.” She arched an eyebrow at me. “Now, I was a little drugged up…but that’s what I named her. My little Hallelujah. Lulu.”
“Then you believe in miracles?” I said.
“Believe me, V. The reason I never gave up on you…the reason I knew the man you could be was because I’d already found my faith. I get to hold my miracle in my arms every day.” A tear rolled over her cheek. “It kills me to think that you lost that belief, that faith.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Glory.”
“I might not be a preacher, but I know what’s real. Lulu is real. That miracle was real.” Her words softened. “And what we have is real.”
That didn’t take faith.
I felt it. Knew it.
Understood it.
“Do you know how much I worship you?” I whispered.
“A little too much.”
“Then do you know how much I love you?”
She tugged me closer, stealing a kiss. “I always knew you’d be trouble.”
“You saved me, Glory Hawkins,” I said. “Now it’s my turn. I’m here to rescue you from this storm.”
“Too late, Varius Payne.” She murmured her tease against my lips. “You’ve already saved me.”
Epilogue
Glory
