As strong as death, p.17
As Strong As Death, page 17
Jade eyed Ethan. “What’re you getting at?”
“You’re bright. You know this basement room offers us no escape route. This is a death chamber. Let’s figure out another plan. I’m not settling for this.”
Amanda touched his arm. “Ethan, you’re just grasping at straws …”
“No! You’re giving up, that’s what’s happening. And I won’t give up for either of us. We’ll make a way through this.” He turned to Jade. “You talked about this guy—Carter—who helped hide you. Who else do you know in Peekskill? Is there anyone else who might sympathize with us?”
“Anyone who helps us is risking his or her life,” Amanda said.
“Sure, but people will still do it.” Ethan folded his arms across his chest. “There has to be at least one person in Peekskill that we can guilt into hiding us, even if just for a day until we get another plan.”
Jade squinted. “There’s this one guy … but it’s a longshot. He worked nights at the grocery store. I’d hide around out back and he’d smuggle some food out to me—nothing much, but some old bread they’d throw out anyway.”
“Alright, we can work with that.” Ethan nodded. “Where’s he live?”
“Well, that’s the issue.” Jade pursed her lips. “We could get there in ten minutes or so on the bus, but it’ll be a long walk. And he’s got kids, so—”
“No, forget it. We can’t afford a ten-plus minute walk. That’s way too dangerous.” Ethan squared his jaw. “Keep thinking. There’s got to be someone else. There has to be.”
Jade scowled. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about this, you know. If there was some good option, don’t you think I would’ve done it already instead of risking my neck to show up here?”
Ethan nodded. “Right, you’re right. But we’ve got to reassess things. This is inevitable death, so anything that has even a glimmer of a chance at success is worth the risk. You’ve got to weigh all the opportunity costs.”
“The what? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Forget it. Just think of somewhere we can go. It’s got to be within a five-minute walking radius.”
Jade paused. “I’ve got something, but it’s a real stretch.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“There’s this old woman who lives down the street a bit, on this side of the highway.”
“You know her?”
“No. I walked by her house once last summer when she was out watering her flowers. I’ve never actually talked to her.”
“This doesn’t sound like much to go on,” Amanda said.
“What makes you think she’d take pity on us?” Ethan asked, ignoring Amanda’s comment.
“I saw her bend over when she went to pull a weed. When she leaned forward, her necklace dangled out of her shirt and I saw a cross. She saw me looking at her and then tucked it back underneath her collar. That’s all I know about her.”
Ethan’s eyes lit up. “That’s enough. Any Christian worth the name wouldn’t turn us away. We’ve got her cornered. She’s got to help us!”
“The JPD will search her home, just like every other place in Peekskill. We might just delay the inevitable,” Amanda said.
“It’s worth the shot,” Amanda’s dad said.
She spun around, unaware that her dad stood behind her. He clenched his fists and looked at her with wide eyes.
“I’m with Ethan,” her dad continued. “I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, Amanda. It’s worth any risk.”
Ethan stood up. “Then we’re all in agreement with the plan.”
“I don’t remember agreeing …” Amanda muttered under her breath. Death here or there? It’s the same miserable end.
“Dontcha think we should wait till dark?” Amanda’s dad shifted his weight from side to side. “That would give us better cover.”
Jade grimaced. “I don’t think we have that long.”
“Jade escaped by day. We’ll do the same.” Ethan squared his shoulders. “Bennie!” He waved, gesturing for Bennie to come over.
Bennie noticed and approached. “Everything okay, guys?”
“You said we could leave if we wish. We’re going now—the four of us.” Ethan swept his hand from left to right, indicating Kevin, Amanda, Jade, and himself.
Bennie peered at Jade. “You just got here. You want to leave so soon?”
Jade swallowed. “The only person I know here is Amanda. If she goes, I’ll go too. Like I said, I don’t want to die alone.”
“You’re never alone. None of us are alone, especially now, when we are facing the most difficult test of all. Don’t forget that.” Bennie took a deep breath, looking at each of them in turn. “God go with you. I’ll miss you.”
He and Kevin clapped each other on the back, then he exchanged a handshake with Ethan.
Amanda stood up, her legs shaking and stomach queasy. Another goodbye. How could she keep doing this … again and again? Why couldn’t the JPD get here already and end it all instead of putting her through this horrifying agony?
“None of this is outside of God’s perfect plan,” Bennie said to her. “He wants the best for us. He will never abandon His children. Do you believe that?”
“I … yeah, I believe that.”
Bennie hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Perhaps, by the end of the day, we’ll all be together again in Paradise.”
Amanda pressed her lips together and nodded. But her heart felt cold.
They said their goodbyes to the other members of the opposition. Amanda floated through the actions like a dream that was really a nightmare. She walked on legs that seemed disconnected from her body.
Her dad led them upstairs, but Ethan stopped her on the stair landing. “What about your book bag? You’re forgetting it. Do you want me to run to your room and grab it before we leave?”
Amanda shook her head. “Why bother? It just has some paint supplies. I won’t need those where I’m going.”
Ethan shrugged and kept walking. “That’s true. You probably won’t paint while in hiding, and anyway, you can always buy new ones later on.”
She didn’t reply. He hadn’t understood. She entered this world empty-handed and that’s how she would soon leave it.
They walked down the empty, dark hallway toward the side door where they had said goodbye to Joe and Chiara mere hours ago.
Amanda’s dad, flat against the wall, carefully peeked out the window. “Coast looks clear. Jade, you and I should go first. You know the way, and I can cover you.” He pulled out his gun and then glanced at Amanda and Ethan. “You two stick right behind us. If anything happens, you must keep going.” He stepped closer to Amanda, his face ashen and voice ragged. “Promise me that: keep going. Don’t stop for anything.”
“I promise.” She hugged him, her throat thick with emotion. “I love you, Dad. Be careful.”
“I love you, Amanda. Always did, always will.”
He placed one hand on the door.
“Wait! Just—just give us a second.” Amanda swallowed, pulling Ethan back a little bit from the others, her hand clammy with sweat.
Ethan looked at her with concern. “What is it? Everything okay?”
She stared into his hazel eyes. He didn’t know this was goodbye. “I—I want you to know …” Her breath shook and words trembled. Stifling a cry, she threw her arms around his neck. “I love you! I love you so much!”
He clutched her close. “I love you.”
They kissed as her tears mingled and flowed down her cheeks, wetting their touched lips.
“But hey …” He pulled the cuff of his shirt over his fist and dried her tears. “We got this. Don’t worry; I’m here.”
“Don’t ever forget, okay?” She wrung her hands. “No matter what happens, don’t forget that I love you.”
“How could I forget that? It’s the only thing that matters.” He grasped her hand and they walked back to her dad and Jade.
They left the hotel—the first time in more than a month. She felt the warm April breeze on her face, greeting her. It seemed hard to believe that a massive slaughter could happen on such a promising day, with the chirping of birds and the blossoming of buds on trees: springtime’s new life as man murdered fellow man.
No vehicle passed on the road before them. They saw no one in the hotel parking lot or across the street at the park adjacent to the river. Even the power plant, looming in the near distance, remained silent—not a single shot of gunfire.
They dashed across the vacant parking lot and, once on the road, ran east toward downtown, though their destination—according to Jade—was just a few minutes away. No one spoke; only their pounding feet and labored breathing made any noise. It’s too silent. Something’s wrong.
From high in the air came a piercing, shrill whistle … a second of quiet … and then a sudden boom like thunder. A massive crumbling, crashing noise came from behind them as the four of them tumbled to the ground. Amanda glanced over her shoulder. The whole front right of the hotel building had disappeared in a blaze of fire and plumes of dark gray smoke. Then she looked further back and there, at the top of the road leading to the power plant, sat a tank, its smoking gun pointed exactly in their direction.
Another whistle—BOOM! Falling debris, shattered glass, dust, and fire all came from the remnants of the next corner of the hotel. Amanda thought of Bennie, Nasir, and the others all sheltered in the basement … now dead?
Ethan shook her arm, mouthing the words, “Go!”
She rose, shaking all over, and followed her dad and Jade, clamoring up the street in a frantic sprint to safety. Her eardrums buzzed with the noise of the falling artillery. They had no cover here, no place to hide, just an open road and four escapees, fleeing. This was a kill zone.
God, help us!
Now the thunder seemed to rain all around them, fountains of asphalt and dirt rising into the air as the tank’s machine gun got to work. The incessant firing drowned out any other noise, any rational thought. Amanda could barely see through the smoke and clouds of dust. She lost sight of her dad and Jade; only Ethan stayed at her side.
The ground shook with an explosion, very near—too near. She toppled to the ground, slamming into the roadway, her diaphragm compressed like someone had his fist clenched around it—squeezing, squeezing … she could barely breathe. Her mind went black for a moment and when she reopened her eyes, she couldn’t see the sunlight through the fog of destruction.
Dad said to keep going. I promised to keep going.
Wheezing, she rose to all fours and forced herself to her feet. She stumbled, half-blind, half-deaf, not knowing where to head. Then she saw his shoes … Ethan’s shoes, motionless on the road. Her heart in her mouth, she wiped ashes from her eyes, trying to see better. Ethan lay face-down, unmoving. A kind of shock came over her, an all-consuming panic.
“Ethan! Ethan! Ethan!”
Her mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear her own scream above the noise of the tank’s fire. She clumsily moved toward Ethan. He can’t be dead! I’m the one who was supposed to die—not him!
She never reached him.
A JPD officer appeared through the smoke, a gun in his hand pointed at her heart. “Drop your weapon! Stand with your hands over your head! You’re under arrest!”
15
THE RED BALLOON
She was alive. But she felt dead.
Amanda lay on the thin mattress, staring ahead without seeing. A tiny ray of light crept through the chink in the sheet of tin that blocked the sole window of her prison cell. A naked light bulb—which never turned off—illuminated her confines: white-washed cinder block walls, a small radiator that gave no heat, and a toilet bucket.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
That thought had become her obsession and she beat it over and over in her mind, like a boxer determined to knock out her opponent. Yet every time she struggled with the unreality of her reality, she found herself still in this prison cell, still alive, still wrecked with the horror of not knowing. She tried to beat the creeping enemy of “what if,” only to leave her own psyche more bruised and bloodied.
How am I still alive? The JPD was shooting everyone else on sight; why’d they bother taking me prisoner instead of just killing me? Now somehow I’m alive, and Ethan might be dead. It was supposed to be me! Don’t You understand? The Mother gave me the red crown—not Ethan! It’s not fair; it’s not right that Ethan should die and I live. The only reason he even came here was me. He could’ve lived … he could’ve been in Antwerp right now.
Anger wrapped itself like cement around her heart. She seethed with frustration and betrayal. I would’ve told Ethan to go. I would’ve made him leave. He sacrificed his life, for what? He just started to believe in You. Was it even enough? Why didn’t you give him longer? You should’ve taken me instead! Why did You even have me paint that red crown if You never intended me to die? It’s all a great trick. Do you laugh at our expense, at these little creatures You’ve made who tear each other apart like dogs?
Then her anger ebbed and grief poured like waves over her. She buried her face in her hands and she sobbed until her chest hurt. Where is my dad? Is he dead too? Will I ever find out? What about Jade, Bennie, Nasir … have they all been killed? Questions suffocated her. She shouted them out in the silence of her soul and received no reply.
She paced about her tiny cell, the restlessness agonizing. How could she live with this uncertainty and all these questions? Despair would make her lose her mind in time.
Yet even time began to lose its meaning. Timelessness surrounded her. She had no idea what happened in the world outside her prison cell. At times the pounding of machine gun fire caused the walls of the prison to vibrate. At other moments she caught the droning of aircraft overhead. She could only conjecture the meaning of these sounds. Only that shaft of light escaping the tin sheet indicated day and night. These were the only passages of time she could mark and even then, she began to not care.
She rolled over on the bed and shivered as goosebumps rose up the back of her exposed neck. She touched the cropped line of hair at the nape of her neck. No tumble of curls filled her periphery anymore. The intake guards had chopped off her hair when they first brought her into prison. She watched the curls fall to the concrete floor until a pile formed, vestiges of her past life. Then they stripped her naked, led her to a medical exam where a male doctor poked and prodded her, and finally they fingerprinted her and made her dress in this nameless, formless uniform. She had no mirror and she was grateful. She didn’t want to see this image of herself.
She became an insomniac, dropping into fitful slumbers that lasted but a short time. A guard slid a bowl of some kind of gruel into her room each morning. She left it untouched, her appetite entirely gone. That happened for a few days until the guard entered her room and beat her for several minutes. She screamed and cried, helpless on the floor against his punches and kicks. He left her bleeding from her nose, shaking in fear, and commanded her to eat. She ate after that, but she barely tasted the food.
One night she lay on her mattress, staring at the empty room. She tried to picture Morgan kneeling beside her. She imagined his kind eyes watching her. Slowly she reached out her hand, grasping the thin air … nothing. She swallowed and tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Morgan?” she whispered. “Morgan, I’m scared. Don’t leave me alone.”
She cried herself to sleep, and, in her dreams, she didn’t lay in this barren prison cell; instead, she stood in an open field, the sun drenching the land. She looked above her and didn’t see the prison ceiling. Instead, a cobalt blue sky, stretching as far as the eye could see, rose above her. She looked down and saw she held a string, clenched between her fingers. A little above her head a red balloon gently pulled against its thin, white cord.
Then she heard her dad’s voice: Release it, Amanda. Let it fly. She instinctively shook her head and tightened her fist. It’s my balloon! It’s mine! I can’t let it go! Her dad spoke again, gentle but firm: Stop clinging to what doesn’t belong to you. Then Amanda’s fist seemed to open without her initiative. She gasped as the balloon rose higher … higher … higher into the sky, unhindered, until it became just a speck, then nothing at all.
Amanda jerked awake, sitting up straight, her heart pounding. She rubbed her eyes in the fluorescence of the light bulb.
I can’t cling to what doesn’t belong to me. I can’t prize my lover more than Love itself. These are just balloons—beautiful, wonderful delights, good things—but they aren’t mine to cling to. Ethan, my family, my life itself: You gave all of these to me; You can take them away.
Maybe that’s why You’ve done this. Maybe that’s why I’m still alive. You’re wiping away everything because even though I said I was leaving the world with nothing, I was still carrying all of that with me. My hands were clenched tight to what I loved. But this life isn’t mine. I don’t belong to myself. I belong to You. They belong to You. I don’t need to take care of everyone; we are all Your children. You will take care of my dad and Chiara and Ethan and everyone I love better than I ever could.
Who am I to say how this should happen?
Who am I to know the best plan?
My love of self must die before I can die for You.
She couldn’t change what happened, but even if she could—maybe she shouldn’t. Nothing happened to her that God didn’t first allow. And if I die, then You can show me. You can connect all these dots I’m unable to see. You can finish the painting, fill in those blank spaces, reveal the masterpiece You’ve designed for me from before time.
Why did God give her Morgan? Why did He allow her to see the Mother? Wasn’t it for this purpose: to build up her faith for this moment when all seemed lost? Now was the time to leave the safety of solid ground and walk across the trapeze, across the open space, trusting that the God who loved her would see her across the abyss to the other side.
