WWN — The fledgling nation of East Ukraine was finally able to elect its first civilian government last week after nearly a year of military rule, civil unrest, and hyper-inflation. This largely agricultural country of seventeen million inhabitants is in the process of establishing its first capital in the city of Khar’kov. The United Nations reports that efforts have been underway for the last ten months to provide technical and diplomatic assistance to the young nation.
Ashley smiled as she tucked the news clipping back into the envelope. It was postmarked from New York City, but the return address simply said,
‘Brother T.’ Her mind drifted back to the bus trip that had nearly ended in disaster in a small town in Washington, breakfast with her U.N. contact in a fancy hotel, and finally spending her first night with her beloved after his dance competition. She sighed, not knowing when she would be able to see him again.
She looked into her mailbox to see if there was anything else for her, and found a postcard from Julie. It was, as usual, a virtual reality hologram. As she changed its angle of view, dancers changed into butterflies, which in turn changed into spaceships. She grinned, and looked forward to writing back to Julie, and Brother Timoteo... and sending something special to Tim.
“Is this morning still okay for our meeting?” Sister Heather asked, entering the room and looking into her own mailbox.
“Oh, yes,” Ashley said.
The older member looked through her mail. “Where shall we go?”
“Um... how about by the fireplace. Hardly anyone’s in the Main Lobby.”
“Okay, as long as you don’t have anything too personal to talk about.”
“Not really,” Ashley said as they exited the office together. “Maybe just some ideas about getting to New Orleans to see Tim.”
“You haven’t seen him in two and a half months, have you?”
“No. I miss him. Especially now that I have a little free time with... you know... Jenny gone.”
They sat down near the crackling fire. No one else was in that section of the lobby. Some gentle piano music was playing over the sound system.
“You have some vacation time saved up, you know.”
“Yeah, but I don’t dare use it until after the National Championships. I’ve lost enough training time already.”
“Maybe he can come to the Championships...?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask, and he’ll have to talk to his mom. But he thinks she only let him come here to see me because she thought we’d be supervised like at a Catholic boarding school or something.”
“I see,” Sister Heather said, suppressing her own lingering feelings of discomfort about the idea of premarital sex. She knew they were promised to each other and both wore half of a mizpah coin in token of that promise, and she also knew that their unofficial promise had about as much chance of lasting as most modern marriages. She felt she had no grounds for negative judgment. “But it probably won’t hurt to invite him.”
“I’m going to,” Ashley said, flashing her mentor a grin.
“The only other thing I can think of is to plan some special time together this summer, after the Championships.”
Ashley nodded thoughtfully.
Sister Heather smiled. “Ready to move on?”
“Yeah. Let me see. I think I’ve almost got my focus back. My beam routine is getting really good. Karen comes to the gym in her wheelchair once or twice a week, and I make her coach me. We tried to talk her into being our team captain, you know, going to all our meets and everything, but she said she had to start thinking about what she was going to do with her life, so we
had to settle for honorary team captain. We’re getting a plaque made with her picture and a list of all her ribbons and medals engraved on it, and it’ll go in the display case in the Rec Center. Faelan’s working hard with me on my bar routine, and I’m trying some new vaults. I hope one of them feels right for me, so I can use it at the Championships.”
“It sounds like everything is coming together. Are you excited about being able to compete at the Nationals?”
“Totally. It’ll probably be my only chance. I think I’m entering a growth spurt, so I’ll have to work really hard.”
“Can you spare the next couple of weekends?”
“I guess. What for?”
“There are some seminars on international diplomacy, in French, that you’ve been invited to attend.” She handed Ashley the program synopsis.
Even though the synopsis was completely in French, Ashley read through it, only having to ask her mentor to translate two words. “But it’s in Paris!”
“That’s right. There’s a non-stop flight from Portland to Paris every night at ten o’clock. We’ve already made you a reservation for this Friday, and we’ll confirm and pay for your tickets as soon as you decide. And you can either come back Sunday night, or stay the week and train in a gym just a few blocks from our Paris office.”
“Wow! Paris... Does the office there have a big apartment, like in New York?”
“Yes. And if you stayed the week, the whole thing would be much more relaxed, you’d get to see more of the city, and you wouldn’t have to deal with jet lag so many times.”
Ashley was grinning. Paris. International diplomacy seminars, in French.
Training in a Paris gym. Seeing the Lyceum planning office and meeting more members. Wandering around Paris during the evenings. “Can I decide after I talk to Coach Faelan?”
“Sure. I don’t know enough about gymnastics to know if it would interfere with your training for the Championships. You and your coach will have to make that decision.”
“Thanks. I’ll decide by dinner tonight, I promise.”
“That’ll leave plenty of time to make all the arrangements. What else do
we need to talk about?”
“I really like Depth History now. I’ve learned where about a million places in the world are... or were... places I’d never heard of before. I like Literature too. Catcher In The Rye did nothing for me, but Lord Of The Flies really made me think.”
“I had a very similar reaction to those two books,” Sister Heather said.
Then Ashley was silent for a long moment. But she soon had clear in her mind what she wanted to say.
“I have something important to ask you.”
“Well... I’m all ears.”
“You’ve been... the only completely reliable thing in my life, ever since I applied to Lyceum. I mean, my parents aren’t un reliable, but they don’t really understand me completely either. You do. You know all my dreams and you help me with them, and you never treat me like a little kid.”
“There is very little about you that needs to be treated like a little kid. And that started long before you came to Lyceum. You didn’t get that gold medal in South Dakota by playing with dolls!”
Ashley blushed. “Thanks. I was scared the first time I told you about me and Tim, you know...”
“I remember that day. I was scared too.”
“I realized a few days ago that I’ve never actually asked you to be my mentor. But I wouldn’t want anyone else. I really feel for Liberty, having to look for a new one. That would be hard. I hope you’ll be my mentor for a long, long time.”
Sister Heather was smiling. “I will be very, very honored to be your mentor for as long as I can, Sister Ashley!”
“But I have to put a condition on it...”
“A
condition?”
“Yeah. You have to let me help you in your garden, or whatever you need to have done, for the same amount of time that you take being my mentor!”
The older lady didn’t respond. She just held her young charge close. She couldn’t remember a happier moment in many years.
It was late one evening in the latter half of March and a thick mist was
blowing through the trees and collecting on all the windows. Shawn stood by himself in a small project room and gazed down at the model of the indoor civic arena in Birmingham, Alabama where his father would be preaching in less than two weeks. The member who had constructed the model had asked Shawn to choose the colors for the people, and now the bleachers were filled with thousands of little green figures who represented the general audience, sixty-eight blue figures who were the Lyceum members, and about eighty red figures, the Reverend Tommy Mitchell and his staff. A dot of white paint on two of the heads differentiated both Shawn and his father from the others.
Shawn was feeling very alone. He had been preparing himself mentally for several weeks for the task he had to do, a task that in a sense only he, all alone, could perform, even though there would be Lyceum members very near. And now, just as the planning was being finalized and the last possible problems were being worked out, Liberty was in Canada with her father, and Ashley was in France. He knew they would be back in plenty of time to prepare for the mission to Birmingham, but their absence at that moment was making him feel more alone than ever before.
He looked down at the model again, and then closed his eyes, picturing his strong, stern father saying some of the lines that he and the others on the planning team had imagined he might say. And he could clearly see two very different reactions in himself.
He could see himself standing there confidently, serenely, as a Lyceum member should, with just the right things coming from his mouth to disarm his father and make the entire audience see the truth.
And he could see himself shaking, frozen with fear, even crying as his father spoke, and not being able to utter a single coherent word.
Then he felt someone touch him, both physically and mentally, and he turned to find Sarah putting her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. “Hi, Shawn.”
He gently put his arms around his young friend. “Hi, Sarah. Sometimes I think I can do it, and sometimes...”
He said no more, but closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and let his whole body just shiver for a moment.
“What you’re going to do is the bravest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do,” she
said.
“I just wish I knew if it was going to work or not,” he whispered, still shaking a little.
“It is. I know it is.”
“Thanks.”
“Did Rachael tell you that me and her are swapping places? She decided that the people on the far side of the arena are going to be harder to deal with, so she’s going to be over there, and I’ll be closer to you!”
“Good. I’ll need all of you, especially when it’s over.”
“Hey, Brother Henry was making apple pies a little while ago. They should be coming out of the oven soon. I’ll treat you to a slice!”
He smiled. “That would be fun. I’m not doing any good staring at this model anymore.”
Sarah knew that Shawn’s other friends were off campus and could sense his feeling of isolation. She stayed with him until he began yawning at about 11:30. Then he said good night and wandered off to bed.
But no sleep called to her. Instead, the misty spring rain beckoned to her as it lurked in and out of the trees and caused the outdoor lights to cast large, diffuse pools of illumination. Her nine-year-old metabolism did not fear the cold and wet. She changed into a bathing suit, told the night security team where she was going and several other places she might go, and headed outside.
After discovering new realms of mist-enshrouded magic in several of the lighted gardens, she wandered into Sister Patricia’s Vesuvian Garden and slipped into its hot pool, where she thought long about Shawn and his unenviable task, and the part in it she would play. She realized that he would be openly defying his father on that mission, and she knew that doing so must be very hard for someone as religious as Shawn, if her readings in the Bible to date were any indication. He would need plenty of love and companionship after the mission, and she planned to be one of those giving him that companionship.
The month of April arrived at Lyceum with a mixture of rain and clear skies, and the usual assortment of practical jokes and gags. On the third day
of the new month, the three friends were all back from their recent travels and were spending extra time together in anticipation of Shawn’s upcoming ordeal.
Ashley and Liberty were in the Dining Hall early for lunch distributing platters and pitchers to the long tables. Shawn entered with the main crowd, coming directly from the Marty Jelwen team meeting. Everyone found seats, and then noticed that Brother Chad was at the place where the day’s announcer always sat, and that he was already standing and had an excited look on his face. They fell silent. Everyone could see that a cardboard box sat on the table near him.
“Sisters and Brothers, exactly one hour ago, at noon Mountain Time, Sister Laura in Rapid City, South Dakota, at the King’s Table restaurant, handed the first published copy of Back To The Stars to Jenny Clark’s mother.”
The entire room erupted into a loud applause, with cheers and whistles.
Ashley was clapping vigorously, and people in the restaurant section of the Dining Hall were craning their necks to try to determine what the excitement was all about.
When the joyful noise had finally died down, he went on.
“I have been given the honor of bestowing several more copies of the leather-bound version of the published work upon persons who are all present today. Brother Brian?”
Again applause filled the hall. Brian stood, but hesitated and looked down at Charleen who was seated beside him. She squeezed his hand, said something that no one else could hear, and smiled. Finally, with an effort, he walked toward the announcer’s place.
“As you all know,” Brother Chad said as Brian stood before him and the room was again silent, “we do not have the privilege of the composer’s autograph. The limited-edition does, however, contain a nice hologram of Jenny. She is smiling, and if you look closely, you can see that someone is holding her hand. I am happy to now give the second published copy to the young man who made that smile possible. Thank you, Brother Brian, thank you from all of us, and most of all, thank you from Jenny.”
Brian received the leather-bound case and held it to his chest. He cried freely as he walked back to his seat, and Charleen surrounded him with her
arms as soon as he sat down.
“Sister Ashley?” the announcer called.
Ashley knew she had not been close to Jenny in the same way that Brian had been. But she did not feel any jealousy — she knew that only a boy could have done what Brian did to make Jenny happy in the final months of her life.
She saw her role more in terms of fulfilling a mission for Lyceum. She had met Jenny while on a Lyceum assignment, and what she had done seemed the only right thing to do.
But she was also aware, as she approached Brother Chad, that her friendship with Jenny had caused her to re-evaluate the priorities in her life for the first time. She knew now that she couldn’t continue training for gymnastics forever. Someday she would have to make room in her life for other things.
“Ashley, your willingness to befriend a little girl in a nursing home, your acute perception, and I must add, your natural diplomatic skills, all combined to make it possible for Jenny to come to Lyceum, to compose her music, and to see it performed. Thank you, from all of us, and thank you from Jenny.”
Everyone cheered as Ashley returned to her seat.
Several other people went up for their copies of the limited-edition, and as they did, Ashley pushed back her plate and opened the beautiful leather case.
Shawn and Liberty looked in with her.
On the left side were two small books held in place by a golden elastic cord. The first one told Jenny’s story, from birth and her disease, to the nursing home and her early efforts to play the voices on her penny whistle, to Ashley’s arrival and the recorder, and finally coming to Lyceum, composing, and at the end of her life attending the first performance of her music. The second book contained the complete musical score for Back To The Stars.
On the right side of the case was the disk itself, containing two versions of the music: one performed entirely by the computer, and the other a mixture of computer synthesized instruments and human musicians, as had been used at the first performance. And below the disk was the hologram of Jenny, happy and smiling. Ashley remembered the situation. She had helped Jenny put on the dress she was wearing. It was at Christmas, Jenny’s last Christmas, and yes, she could see Brian’s hand on the very edge of the image.
Ashley turned and hugged Shawn, then turned the other way and hugged Liberty, and then lovingly closed the leather case and placed it in her gym bag which was hanging on the back of her chair. She knew Jenny was up in Heaven, where she wanted to be, probably composing beautiful music that Earth would never hear. Ashley looked forward to someday seeing her again and hearing what she had composed.
But right now she, Ashley Riddle, had a mortal life to lead, and the bowl of steamed vegetables with herbs and butter sauce that had stopped not far away looked like it had her name on it.
On Saturday, April 6th, sixty-eight Lyceum members gathered in Birmingham, Alabama at a small conference center that had been rented for the weekend. It had been selected for its proximity to the civic arena where the Reverend Tommy Mitchell would be holding his revival the following day.
Twenty-three members had left Portland by train two days earlier. Thirty-one had come by bus from the new, not yet open, campus in Atlanta, Georgia. The rest, including Shawn, his friends, and the technical team, had flown out that day.
After tossing their packs, carry-bags, and small suitcases onto the bunk beds in the dormitories, they all pitched in to assemble a tasty meal of soup and sandwiches.
“Okay, Brothers and Sisters, here’s the plan for the day,” Sister Larissa said before sinking her teeth into her sandwich. “Right after lunch, the tech team, the psych team, and the security team will each meet. Brother Sam here,” she said, indicating the blond, late middle-aged man on her right, “went into the arena this morning on the pretense of doing an electrical inspection, as he works for Birmingham Power and Light. He has some new information about the set-up that will effect our plans in minor ways. At about three o’clock, each team will have a chance to address the entire group, and there will be plenty of time for questions and answers. Dinner at about six, the evening is free for anyone who wants to explore the city, go shopping, or whatever, and the technical team plans to go in at about midnight.”
There was little talking while they ate their lunch. Everyone was excited, and everyone was a little nervous. There were many things that could go
wrong with the plan, and they knew it. But they were all comforted by the fact that they would not be in any personal danger. All save one.
Brother Sam had overheard that the audience would be ushered to certain sections of the indoor arena as they arrived. That would cause new problems for the security and technical teams, but compensating plans were quickly devised.
The non-resident member had also learned that the reverend’s security was tighter than they had expected. At least a hundred security guards would be in the arena, and the ones that were not on the reverend’s personal staff were being hired from a local firm with a reputation for toughness. That information caused Sister Rachael to abandon her plan of being on the far side of the arena. She decided to be where the action was in case Lyceum’s physical security measures were not enough.
By dinner time, they felt they had adapted to the new situation and spirits were higher. Shawn knew he needed to forget about the whole business for awhile, so he suggested to his friends that they walk into town and he would treat them to desserts of some kind. They accepted, on the condition that they be the ones to do the treating. He acquiesced. They invited Rachael, but she needed to confer with the other team leaders on some issues that were still bothering her. She did, however, arrange for two other adults to accompany them, considering that Shawn’s father might also be in the city.
As soon as the young people had left, Rachael made herself a cup of tea and sat down with Brother Fred.
“I think we’ve been assuming a half-way rational response on the part of Reverend Mitchell. I think that assumption is naive, and I want to talk to you about some contingency plans in case of certain events that might arise, events that wouldn’t be our fault, but nonetheless could endanger large numbers of people...”
When the four youth returned to the conference center at about eleven o’clock, they were all carrying bags in which their souvenirs of Birmingham were contained. Many members were already in bed, sleeping or reading, and so they were careful to be quiet, just as they were used to doing in the
residence halls at Lyceum. The technical team was at one large table, eating a light meal and pouring over their schematics and checking their carry-boxes of equipment.
Shawn hung around, wondering if there was anything else he could do.
More people were quietly saying good night, most of them patting Shawn on the shoulder, or giving him thumbs-up or other signs of encouragement. He couldn’t figure out why.
“You look like a lost sheep!” Sister Larissa said, coming up to him in the middle of the common room.
“This is all my fault! How can everybody be so nice to me?” he said in a troubled voice.
“Brother Shawn, you are NOT your father, never were, and never will be.
God gave us all free will. Your fellow members are all smart enough to know these things. Are you smart enough to keep your feeling about your father from interfering with the work we have to do tomorrow, work that is necessary to save Lyceum from massive political and possibly legal problems, and expenses, in the future?”
Sister Larissa was being stern with him. Others who overheard the exchange knew why. If Shawn was unable to carry out his part of the mission, they needed to know now, before sixty-eight members and thousands of dollars worth of equipment were in place and at risk.
Shawn breathed deeply and tried to think. Please be with me, Jesus. After a few moments, he started to feel clearer about what was going on. “You’re right. If my father wasn’t attacking Lyceum, some other evangelist would be someday. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to being treated so... so much like an adult.”
Larissa smiled. “You should have seen what your friend Sarah went through when she became a member at six, and then found out that she had all the rights and most of the responsibilities of any other member!”
The thought was sobering. The mission leader patted him on the back and went over to join the technical team. After a moment, Shawn wandered into the kitchen, got a cup of tea, and then went to spend some time in a quiet, unused room that he had noticed earlier. He felt the need, more intensely than at any point since leaving home, to spend some serious time in prayer.
Ashley woke when the technical team returned at about four in the morning. She peered out from under her covers just long enough to listen to their whispered voices and glimpse their faces. Sarah was quietly greeting them and offering them snacks. As soon as Ashley was sure that all had gone well, she rolled over and fell back asleep.
Everyone, with the exception of the members of the technical team, were awake by seven. Liberty took a quick shower and then dressed in the clothes she had brought for the occasion, clothes that were both nice looking and would allow her to run like the wind in an emergency. Everyone gathered in the common room for worship and reflection, after which Sister Larissa stood to make some announcements.
She looked around the room and then turned nearly white. “Oh, God, where’s Shawn?”
“I’ll show you!” Sarah said, hopping up and going to a window.
Sister Larissa and about half of those present followed. Sarah pointed through the window, and everyone could see that there was a small church about half a block away, where services were obviously just starting.
“Thanks, Sarah,” the mission leader said.
Shawn returned just as the group, still with the exception of the technicians, were sitting down to a hearty breakfast of orange juice, sweet rolls, hash browns, eggs, and ham. Sarah bounced out of her chair, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the table. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Is everything on track for today’s mission?” Larissa asked from her seat not far away.
“Yes,” Shawn said. “everything is in good shape! As long as the technical team was successful...?”
“It was,” Larissa said.
Shawn smiled again. “I’ve never been so scared in my life, but I’ve figured out that this is what it’s like doing God’s will. Fear is just fear. If I’m doing His will, everything will turn out okay.”
“That’s the spirit!” a member sitting nearby said. “And we’re all scared too, and we’re all trying to discern His will, just like you are. None of us
would be here if we didn’t think that His will for us today was to stand behind you.”
“Thank you, all of you!” Shawn said, and then attacked his breakfast with abandon.
As noon approached, the members of the technical team were awake and getting ready. Bowls of fruit and platters of crackers and cheeses were set out for people to munch on as they made last minute preparations. The tickets to the event were passed out, Shawn was given a thin device to put in his shirt pocket, and at half past noon they filed out of the building and began their quarter-mile walk to the arena.
At several points along the way they split into smaller and smaller groups, each taking a slightly different route, so that by the time they arrived they were in groups of no more than four, groups which seemed, to any observer, to not know each other.
Shawn and the security team who needed to sit near him made sure they were in line together. The psych team spread itself out in the line as other people arrived. Sarah stayed with the leader of the technical team so that instant communication would be possible with Rachael, who went in with Brother Fred and Sister Larissa.
The civic arena, as they knew, held about ten thousand people, and it was expected to be filled to capacity by the event. As Shawn entered, he could see the television cameras set up in the media alcoves, and he could see the platform from which his father would preach. It was decorated tastefully with draperies, candles, flowers, and a large cross.
The seats very near the speaker’s platform were already filled, and the ushers were now guiding the entering stream of people to a section about a quarter of the way around the arena. That seemed good to Shawn. He felt the need for some distance from his father. But he was still worried about the level at which he would be seated. He didn’t want to be higher up than his father, but he knew that being seated too low could also cause problems. And he also knew that there was no way he and his security team could change their places in line now without causing suspicion.
Providence placed him at about the same level as his father’s speaking
platform, and just above an aisle. After sitting down, he looked around him.
The members near him were well arrayed, and would be able to stop anything but a military S.W.A.T. team from getting to him. He breathed a sigh of relief and tried to relax into his seat.
It took another twenty-five minutes for everyone to get seated. A choir began to sing, and the technical team leader began using a small hand-held device to adjust a piece of equipment that was hidden amongst the other fixtures on the ceiling. Those seated around him assumed he was just reviewing his appointment schedule or playing a computer game while waiting for the revival to begin.
Rachael was looking around with her keen eyes and at the same time trying to sense any telepathic activity in the stadium that might complicate their plans. She saw several policemen, but knew they would stay near the doors and wouldn’t get involved unless there was violence. To her delight, with the exception of Sarah’s clear voice and Liberty’s untrained abilities, she only sensed one significant telepathic presence, and it was coming from a child and was completely incoherent. She wished she could meet the child, but knew it probably wouldn’t be possible given the more urgent task at hand.
Sarah informed her that the equipment was ready.
The Reverend Tommy Mitchell walked out onto his platform and began to speak.
“Brothers and Sisters in Christ, let us pray.”
Pride welled up inside Shawn. His father, a famous and respected evangelist, was masterfully leading the opening prayer, just as Shawn had heard him do so many times before. Ten thousand people had their heads bowed, and unknown tens of thousands, maybe millions more in their homes watching the event on television. It was an excellent prayer, and Shawn was deeply moved.
During the next twenty minutes, the Reverend Mitchell spoke eloquently on theological topics that were perpetually popular. Shawn was transfixed, and completely forgot why he was there. He was even beginning to feel like he was back in his father’s good graces. What, he tried to remember, were the names of those seminaries his father had wanted him to choose amongst?
But Sister Rachael, and other Lyceum members, were observing a carefully
planned progression of topics, starting with the nature of Good, moving on to the nature of Evil, shifting to specific categories of Evil, and even now beginning to focus on specific Evils. He had only one more step to make, the small leap to talking about evil places, and it would begin. They listened intently.
He made the last transition slowly, carefully, and hardly anyone in the arena was aware that he wasn’t still talking about wonderful, spiritual things.
And when he finally did take that last step (the step that every Lyceum member secretly hoped he wouldn’t make at all and they could go home without a confrontation), he did it in a most subtle and clever manner, starting with an evil place that everyone could agree on.
“Brothers and Sisters, we live in a free society. I wouldn’t want it any other way. But occasionally places of such obvious evil spring up that no one can deny that they must not be tolerated. The factories in Asia where chemical and biological weapons are still being created are evil places!”
Murmurs of agreement ran through the arena.
“The abortion clinics around the world sponsored by the United Nations where babies are killed every minute of every day!”
The agreement of voices was not at first universal, but a majority quickly became a consensus.
“And, Brothers and Sisters in Christ, a place called Lyceum near Portland, Oregon, and another opening soon in nearby Atlanta, where adults and even children sleeplessly do the Devil’s work by building shrines and chapels to false gods, by worshipping science instead of God, and by supporting the United Nations in its immoral activities!”
Shawn saw red. His heart was pounding and he sat glaring at his father.
He had expected to take this moment calmly, but now he bristled. His father was talking about Ashley and Liberty, Brother Jacob and Sister Rachael. And he was talking about Sarah. Shawn jumped to his feet.
Two buttons were pressed, and suddenly Shawn was lit up in a warm shaft of light. He could hear himself breathing, and knew that his microphone had been activated. He spoke, slowly and seriously, and ten thousand people and six television cameras turned to look at him.
“You are speaking ill of my home, Father. I’d like to answer those
charges.”
The Reverend Tommy Mitchell turned his head slowly and mechanically, and looked at Shawn with an icy stare. Everyone expected him to say something. After all, his son was talking to him, and he was obviously an adult and was speaking rationally. But all the reverend did was to make some hand signals to an assistant behind him.
The assistant spoke into his headset, and at the electrical control room a technician could be seen rushing through a door and working fervently at a control panel behind a glass window. Several lights went off and on, but the spotlight remained on Shawn. The technician stepped back out of the control room and spread his arms in impotence.
The reverend made more hand signals, this time in front of him where everyone could see them, and security guards began to converge on Shawn’s position from several directions. The Lyceum security team waited until they were almost upon him, and then suddenly stood and blocked their approach.
The team had been selected so that at least two very large, very muscular-looking men stood on each aisle that could be used to get near Shawn, with others completing the circle. They locked arms and the reverend’s men were forced to either stop short or start a fight. Without further instructions, they chose to stop.
“Let him talk!” someone yelled from across the arena.
“He’s your son!” someone else said.
“We want to hear him!” a third voice said.
Shawn’s heart was pounding. He had recognized at least two of the voices who had just spoken, and knew the psych team had begun its work, but he was breathing too fast to smile or laugh. Words started coming to his mind.
“I was moved by the first part of your sermon, Father. It was excellent.
Why did you have to stoop to fabricating lies about a place that did nothing but feed you and give you shelter in a storm, and pull your car out of the mud, all in the middle of the night?”
The reverend’s men stepped back a little, as they had received no further instructions, and the Lyceum security team took a lower profile so that Shawn could be seen better.
“Talk to us, Reverend!” someone yelled.
“Yeah!” several other voices added, too many to have all been the members of the psych team.
“Then why didn’t you stay in that evil place,” the preacher finally burst out,
“where the children stay awake all night enacting pagan rituals?”
Shawn could feel every hair on his body standing on end, every muscle tightening. But words kept coming so he spoke them, loudly and clearly.
“The one young person at Lyceum who has insomnia is my DEAR
FRIEND! The pagan ritual she was enacting is called BALLET DANCING! If she hadn’t been awake to welcome us, my mother might have DIED of exposure that night!”
A definite rumble of amazement ran through the audience.
But Shawn wasn’t finished. Words were still coming to him. “But she doesn’t dance at night very often, Father. Usually she can he found feeding the GOLDFISH!”
The entire arena was talking now, and some laughter could be clearly heard.
The reverend’s amplified voice cut through and silenced the talking. “You will never be welcome in our church again! You are not worthy to call yourself a Christian!”
Shawn’s neck was getting tight and his face was burning hot, but he knew what he had to say.
“On the other hand, you, Father, will always be welcome at Lyceum. And ALL of you out there are welcome. I invite you to come and see for yourselves.
Walk in our gardens, worship in our Temple, our chapels and shrines, stay in our Lodge, play in our gym, pool, or playground. Look for the Devil anywhere you want. Yes, you will find people with different skin colors. You will find people who speak different languages. You will even find people who have different names for God. But you will not find the Devil unless you bring him with you!”
The entire audience was talking now. The Reverend Tommy Mitchell would tolerate no more. He made a sweeping motion and then a chopping sign to the electrical technician, who turned and entered the control room.
But he didn’t stop at the control panel. He went all the way to the back of the room, found the largest lever, and with two hands, pulled it.
Within a second the huge arena was pitch dark. Two seconds after that people began screaming. Rachael had predicted that this might happen, and she and Sarah went to work even as the technical team leader pressed another button on his hand-held computer. They knew that in very few seconds people would be trampling each other.
A light appeared near the ceiling in the center of the room. It grew brighter and brighter and moved downward, but was not uncomfortable to look at. It caught everyone’s attention. At the same time those who had panicked were suddenly, inexplicably, comforted and most of them fell silent.
The growing globe of light was a pale green, and it cast a very gentle, soothing illumination over the entire audience. People who seconds before could think of nothing but bolting for the exits were sitting back down, looking up at the mysterious light, and yawning.
Most of the Lyceum members realized that their mission was over. The team leaders confirmed this by being the first ones to walk casually down the aisles and toward the exits. The other members followed. Liberty took Shawn’s hand and together they descended toward the exit. Rachael and Sarah came last, still exerting an effort to comfort the unnerved.
But no one could tell where the group of Lyceum members ended, for their exodus had been as the planting of a seed. Directly behind them came others from the audience, and seeing those leave made still others decide that they didn’t want to stay any longer. Some assumed that the revival was over, and others wanted nothing more to do with the Reverend Tommy Mitchell. For many different reasons, the arena was emptying.
The Lyceum teams immediately split up into twos, threes, and fours and took different routes back to the little conference center. About a block from the arena, Liberty and Ashley could tell that Shawn was starting to tremble.
They stopped and hugged him tightly.
“You were great!” Ashley said.
“Your words were perfect!” Liberty added.
“I don’t feel very great. I feel sick. I’m glad I don’t have much in my stomach.”
“Hey! You should take gymnastics! That’s exactly how I feel at a meet!”
Ashley said.
“Really?” Shawn had always before assumed that gymnastics competition was nothing but fun.
“And you should take helicopter pilot training!” Liberty said. “I know that feeling every time I’m up for a training flight!”
“You’re
kidding!”
“Translating for high-level diplomats can also do it!” Ashley added.
“Or being a Control Technician for an important event!”
“Or coaching Beginning Gymnastics when you’re dead tired!”
“Or being the target of a telepathic attack!”
“Or climbing to the top of the Garden of Endor!”
“Or riding a horse!”
Ashley burst out laughing at Liberty’s last statement. Shawn was smiling.
And he was starting to feel better. He was starting to realize that he was in the company of friends who knew all about stressful moments and gut-wrenching tasks. He was feeling a new bond with them, a new comradeship.
“Thanks, guys. I just... can’t quite believe I did it! There was no way I could rehearse what I was going to say. I just said what was in my heart. You know, it wouldn’t have made me very mad if he had just said bad things about me. But when he started talking about Lyceum and Sarah, I was ready to chew nails!”
“I could tell!” Ashley said.
“You looked like a beet!” Liberty said.
Shawn chuckled. “I guess we should get walking.”
“Yeah!” Ashley said. “I have a hunch there’s a party waiting for us!”
Hand in hand the three continued on toward the conference center.
But when they arrived, no party atmosphere was evident. Rachael took Shawn by the hand without saying anything and led him into one of the dormitories. There was Sarah, in a bunk, under the covers, shaking like a leaf.
Sister Jennifer was kneeling beside her, holding a bowl of fruit, trying to get her to eat something.
Shawn knelt and looked at his friend. Her eyes were distant and troubled.
He wasn’t sure what to do for a moment, but then he started realizing how
much he cared about her, how close to her he had become.
“Sarah?”
“It was terrible!” she said in little more than a whisper, more to herself than to anyone else. “They were panicking. They were afraid of the dark. I couldn’t believe that so many people would hurt each other just because he had turned out the lights!”
Shawn knew that ‘he’ referred to his father. He had already figured out that Rachael had been partly responsible for stopping the panic that had been imminent. Sarah must have been helping too.
“She was exposed to more raw human fear than ever before,” Rachael said.
“She has never had to use her abilities with so many people, so quickly, and in such a stressful situation.”
“Sarah, it’s Shawn. Can you hear me?”
Her glazed eyes searched for the source of the familiar voice and tried to focus. After several moments, with difficulty, she looked at Shawn and a slight smile appeared on her face. “Hi, Shawn. I feel so tired.”
“I feel drained too. I’m going to sleep like a log tonight.”
“I think... I think I’d like to do that too.”
“But you need to eat something first, okay?”
“Okay.”
“At least a piece of fruit,” Rachael said.
“Apple, orange, or banana?” Shawn offered.
“Banana.”
Jennifer half-peeled a large banana and handed it to Sarah, and she ate it slowly while lying there in bed.
“Would you like me to help you fall asleep?” Rachael asked.
“Sure. Will you be here when I wake up, Shawn?”
“Yes,
unless I’m still asleep!” he said with a grin.
Sarah giggled a little, then pulled the blankets close around her. Shawn leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
“Good night,” he said. “And thank you. I couldn’t have done it without all of you there.”
“Good night...” Sarah said in a groggy voice and let her heavy eyelids close as she gave in to her mentor’s unseen telepathic influence.
Sister Larissa came in about half an hour later. She had remained in the civic arena until the very end of the revival. She reported that after the Lyceum members had filed out, the reverend had been unable to gather his thoughts for quite a while, and about nine-tenths of the audience had departed. Eventually the regular lights had come back on, and he had managed to give a simple sermon to the ‘faithful’ who had remained, carefully avoiding the issues of his son and Lyceum.
The celebration they had planned did happen, but it was kept very quiet out of respect for Sarah. Impressions were shared, appreciations given, and hopes for the future expressed while platters of tasty finger-foods were passed around. Shawn was tired and thoughtful, but he felt that a great burden had just been lifted from his shoulders.
He had only one worry, and he spent considerable time that evening in personal prayer about that concern. He knew that if Sarah had taken any permanent harm he would have just exchanged one burden of guilt for another, and he hoped with all his mind and all his heart that that hadn’t happened.
Chapter 8: Birthdays and Hopes for the Future As soon as Ashley returned to Lyceum on Monday afternoon, the day after Reverend Mitchell’s revival meeting in Birmingham, she was surprised to find three letters in her mailbox that had been forwarded from her parents’ house in Rapid City. The first one was from the Wyoming Special Olympics Committee.
March 29th
Dear Ms. Ashley Riddle,
One of the members of our Committee had the honor of witnessing the South Dakota Special Olympics last year, at which you were serving as the primary facilitator. We understand that you did this as a volunteer after spending several weeks helping to train the participants in Rapid City, South Dakota. We are further informed that your facilitation caused a significant increase in spectator attendance and in donations received.
We would like to invite you to be the Mistress of Ceremonies at this year’s Wyoming Special Olympics, to be held in Cheyenne on May 11th and 12th.
Although our budget is tight, we are prepared to reimburse you for all of your travel expenses, motel, meals, etc. Our detailed program schedule is enclosed.
Please let us know as soon as possible if you will be able to help us make this year’s Special Olympics in our state more interesting to more people.
Sincerely,
Ralph S. Pearson, chairman
Ashley finished reading the letter and looked up at a calendar. She could see that the event was on a weekend, two weeks before the Nationals. She would have to talk to Coach Faelan about it. Maybe if she found a gym in Cheyenne where she could practice on Saturday evening...
The next letter was from the North Dakota Special Olympics Committee.
It said essentially the same thing as the first letter, but the event was in Bismarck, North Dakota on May 25th and 26th. Ashley knew that she would be in San Francisco competing at the National Championships that weekend.
She would have to call them and tell them that she couldn’t come.
The third letter was from the South Dakota Special Olympics Committee.
It began by emphasizing that the new chairperson of the committee was excited about the possibility that Ashley might be able to help them again, and that she would have as much freedom as she wanted in her facilitation. It was happening in Pierre on June 1st and 2nd. That was the weekend after the Nationals, and Ashley was excited about the idea, as it would not conflict with her training at all.
Then she remembered Chad, who would probably be there again, and swallowed hard. After taking a few deep breaths, she read the rest of the letter. South Dakota was also willing to pay travel, motel, and meal expenses.
That would mean she wouldn’t have to stay in the dorms. She would only see Chad during the event itself. She could handle that.
Feeling better, her mind went into high gear. She could fly to Rapid City, and then drive with her parents to Pierre, and they could see the Special Olympics and spend the evening with her. The whole thing was starting to sound like fun, and she didn’t even need to talk to her coach about the South Dakota invitation.
She looked over toward the travel desk and saw that Sister Judy was there, so she walked over and waited for the blond lady to finish what she was doing.
“Hi,
Ashley!”
“Hi, Judy. What would it cost to fly me to Cheyenne, Wyoming and back?”
“When?”
“May 11th and 12th.”
Sister Judy queried her computer for a few moments. “That’s a weekend
— about four hundred and fifty.”
“And Rapid City, South Dakota on June 1st and 2nd?”
“About five hundred. Vacation?”
“More like a mission, but I think I’ll get to spend some time with my parents.”
“Fantastic! Are you excited about the National Championships?”
“I am totally jazzed! All I have to do is decide which vault I’m doing and work some bugs out of my bar routine.”
“Good
luck!”
“Thank
you!”
Later that day, Ashley received Coach Faelan’s blessing to attend the Wyoming Special Olympics, IF she could arrange for supervised gym time on Saturday evening. She called the chairman of the committee and told him the situation. He cringed when he heard the cost of her travel plans. He had been expecting to pay for a bus ticket from Rapid City. He cringed again when he learned of her need for gym time. But he promised to see what he could do, and by that evening he had called back with confirmation, knowing that without Ashley, the Wyoming Special Olympics would again have a very small audience and few donations.
Then she called her parents, and they were thrilled by the idea of them all driving to Pierre together for the weekend. They had not been there the year before, as they had not realized that she would play such a prominent role, and were glad for the opportunity to rectify their mistake.
The following day the new South Dakota chairwoman also cringed at the cost of getting Ashley there from Oregon, but knew well the alternative. Only the North Dakota chairman was left wishing that he could have spent some amount of money to make Ashley available.
All during the week following the Birmingham mission, Liberty had inquired about Sarah whenever she saw Shawn or Sister Rachael. She had always been told the same thing: Sarah was resting, maybe even sleeping.
Liberty was beginning to worry.
On Thursday, Liberty passed out invitations to her sixteenth birthday
party the following evening. She specified on the invitations that it was going to be a very quiet party, and that anyone who was looking for a wild time had to look elsewhere. She reinforced the message by announcing that the main activity would be the sampling of gourmet cheeses, olives, pickles, and other delicacies. Still seeing no sign of Sarah, Liberty left an invitation in her mailbox.
The guests began to gather shortly before seven o’clock on Friday evening.
Candles flickered on every shelf and table in Liberty’s apartment, the slight aroma of incense lingered, and some soothing Native American flute and drum music was playing quietly. Serving trays were already filled with a variety of sweet, savory, and sour delights, and a small tub of ice contained an assortment of sparkling beverages.
Most of the young people at Lyceum had been invited, and all of the adults whom Liberty had grown close to. Jason arrived first, followed closely by Brian and Charleen, Brother Ben the swim coach, Tabitha, Karen in her wheelchair, and Sister Erica and Brother John Michael from Liberty’s piloting classes. Shawn, Sister Rachael, and Matthew, whom Liberty knew from swim class, arrived soon after. Brenda and Brother Fred came in about a half hour later. Liberty already knew that Joan was not on campus, and that Ashley had classes until eight o’clock. As each person arrived, another mysterious bag or colorful box was added to the stack that had begun with the large parcel postmarked from Washington, D.C.
Between sampling little cubes of cheeses or pickled onions, Liberty told them all how lucky she felt to be there with them. Even though they all knew the story, she related how she almost ruined her chances of getting into Lyceum by the cruel words she had used with Sarah, and how she had worked her tail off to atone for those words. Bottles were opened and trays passed around, and Liberty told of more of her life before Lyceum than she had ever shared before in such a large group. She was almost a little surprised when no one seemed bothered by any of it.
A few minutes after eight Ashley slipped in, added her gift to the stack, and found a place to sit. Liberty looked around at the friends who were sitting on her bed, in chairs, or on pillows on the floor.
“You don’t look happy. Something’s wrong, isn’t it, Liberty?” Sister Erica
said.
“Yeah,” Liberty said, letting her head hang down like a lost puppy. “I’m worried about Sarah.”
Shawn flashed Ashley a grin, but Liberty didn’t notice.
“If it wasn’t for Sarah, I wouldn’t have become a member. She’s made me grow more than anyone else ever has. And I learned not long ago that... she and I have something in common... something that she’s a lot better at than I am.”
Just then there was a knock at the door.
Tabitha opened the door, and there stood Sarah in her bath robe holding a small box. “Sorry I’m late. I had some finishing touches to do, and then I had to find a box for it,” Sarah said, moving to place the gift on the pile.
But Liberty jumped up and intercepted her, embracing both the nine-year-old and the box at the same time. “I am really glad you’re okay!”
Rachael
grinned.
“I think I’m okay,” Sarah said. “But I’ve slept more this week than in the whole last year!”
Everyone chuckled and smiled.
“I’d like to open your gift first,” Liberty said.
“It’s just a little something I put together...”
Liberty opened the little gift box and pulled out the small, intricately tooled leather purse. “Oh, Sarah, it is really beautiful!”
Everyone in the room started clapping, and Sarah turned red. When the applause died down, she said, “I made it this week... when I wasn’t asleep, that is.”
Liberty smiled. “Thank you. I’ve been needing a little purse like this to keep valuables in when I go into town. Can you come with me someday soon?”
Sarah looked up at Liberty. She had always liked the older girl very much.
Now, with Liberty’s evaluation week far in the past, and their common telepathic gift known to both of them, maybe they could really be friends.
“I think so. Sister Karola wants to see me again tomorrow. Mostly what happened was that I got a big shock. I didn’t know that most people have so much fear inside them ready to come out. It wasn’t even very dark in that
arena, but they were panicking like wounded animals. It’s so different here at Lyceum. I’m really glad I’m here. But now I know that I have to learn more about how most people think. I’m going to start the Psychology class soon.”
Sarah squeezed in between Rachael and Shawn on a large cushion, and the party continued with more gifts being opened, trays passed around, and stories told. Finally, at about nine o’clock, only the large box from Liberty’s father remained. She opened it slowly as everyone watched.
Noises of amazement filled the room as Liberty pulled the English riding saddle out of the wrapping paper. Tears almost came to her eyes as she held it and saw that the words Sister Liberty were tooled into the leather on one side.
It was not lost on anyone present that the wording implied her father’s complete acceptance of her Lyceum membership.
“This is... my lucky day for things made out of leather!” she said. “And for having the best friends any sixteen-year-old girl could ever want!” She glanced all around the room, but especially at Jason, and Shawn, and Ashley, and last of all Sarah. And she remembered, just for a moment, her old friends back in Philadelphia. Comparing the two in her mind, she decided she had done the right thing by coming to Lyceum.
“Okay, enough of this silly gift-giving. We have a reservation for a hot pool!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” everyone said together, and then started to extract themselves from the places they had been sitting, several of them grabbing the food trays to bring along.
But Liberty put her finger to her lips. “Shhhhh! This was supposed to be a quiet party!”
Shawn woke one morning in mid-April to find the sun out and everyone talking about their gardens. Even Ashley and Liberty, he knew, had started theirs. Although he had faithfully attended Gardening class ever since becoming a member, the idea of working outside was still uncomfortable to him — it was just not something he had done very often in his nearly nineteen years of life.
But he knew that every Lyceum member was expected to have a small garden to care for, or a part of a large one. And he was intensely aware that
he, or more precisely his father, had recently caused Lyceum considerable trouble, and much time and money had been spent in dealing with that trouble, all without any negative attitudes being expressed toward himself from anyone. He was both amazed and grateful. And he felt he owed Lyceum very much.
So when he and Brother Jacob got together that day for their regular mentorship time, Shawn announced his intention to begin a garden, either a difficult one, or two of them. Jacob guessed his purpose but said nothing.
They sat down together at a computer and accessed the campus plans that showed the status of all of Lyceum’s gardens, shrines, and other outdoor areas.
“There are quite a few free gardens right now because of the folks who transferred to Atlanta,” Brother Jacob said. “You should be able to find just what you want.”
Shawn studied the legend. “Let me see... blue means a completely pre-planned garden, green means you can do whatever you want, and blue-green means partially pre-planned.”
“Right. And the yellow dots with numbers in them are shrines.”
“Hey, that would be fun. I’d like to have one with a shrine. I wonder if any are free...”
“Use your function keys to request a search... good, now mark unassigned and shrine... okay, there’s your list, only one. Press locate, and there it is, over near the Temple. Press info, and we’ll find out all about it...”
Both of them silently looked at the information screen that appeared.
“Wow! A Celtic Christianity shrine, modeled after a site in Ireland!”
Shawn exclaimed. “It’s a partially pre-planned garden, with a hedge at the front, a tree at the back, and I can do anything I want with the rest, as long as it harmonizes with the shrine.” Shawn didn’t say so, but he was also aware that it wasn’t far from Sarah’s garden. In fact, it was so near that they could almost talk to each other while out working. Or maybe they could go back and forth, helping each other with their work. He smiled at the thought.
“Why don’t we go look at it?” Jacob suggested.
They walked together to the garden that Shawn was considering adopting.
He loved it as soon as he saw it. The low hedge along the walkway contained
an opening, and through that opening irregular paving stones wandered back to the Celtic shrine that was overshadowed by the large maple tree. The shrine contained a small stone altar, a tall Celtic cross, and several standing stones. On the altar were silk flowers and other trinkets that people had left.
A sturdy donation box was at the side of the altar, rain-proof and planted deep in the ground on a steel post. Small lamps lined the walkway, and inconspicuous spotlights were trained upon the altar and the cross.
Shawn wandered around, feeling the stones of the shrine, touching the tall maple, walking along the hedge, and looking at all the plantings, some of which were already getting weedy or overgrown. Brother Jacob waited near the shrine. Shawn noticed that only one other garden lay between this one and Sarah’s, and the low hedge continued through them all. Finally he returned to where his mentor was standing.
“I have a book about early Celtic Christianity you can borrow if you’d like,”
Jacob said.
“I’d like that. I wouldn’t feel right taking care of a shrine unless I knew all about it. I want to do it. I want to care for this garden. And if I’m out here working on it, and people ask me questions about the shrine, I want to know the answers.”
“Okay! Let’s go attach your name to it. It obviously needs a new caretaker. Also, I bet your friend Ashley can give you some information about the Celts. She’s becoming a regular history buff.”
“I wish I knew where she gets all her energy!” Shawn said.
“Carrots and yogurt?” Jacob suggested, tongue in cheek.
Shawn smiled. He had several times contemplated the possibility of dating Ashley if her relationship with Tim didn’t work out. But he had never been sure if he could match her seemingly boundless energy and constant motion. He knew he needed someone who was, at least occasionally, capable of quiet contemplation and worshipful reflection.
With only five weeks to go until the USA National Women’s Gymnastics Championships, Ashley’s training entered its final phase. She added large blocks of gym time on Saturdays and Sundays with Sister Shannon, extended her weekday afternoon hours with Brother Faelan, and returned to the gym
after all her other classes were over in the evenings to work with Tabitha under Karen’s guidance.
It took some doing, but Ashley managed to talk Karen into promising to go with them to the Championships. Ashley emphasized to her convalescing friend that she had many good coaching skills, and that by going to meets, other gymnasts and coaches would remember her and her Chunichi Cup medal, and maybe think of her when they needed a coach or a judge. Faelan and Shannon both nodded in agreement.
Ashley had finally selected a world-class vault, but knew she was going to have to work hard — or pray for a miracle — to get comfortable with it in time for the Championships. She did pray, but decided that she had better put in the hard work too.
When time came to pack for the Wyoming Special Olympics in early May, Ashley’s chosen vault was firming up, and even though she didn’t think it would earn her any medals in itself, at least it wouldn’t drag down her all-around score too much. Her excitement about the Wyoming trip was increased when she learned that a non-resident member lived near Cheyenne with whom she could spend the weekend. The chairman of the Special Olympics committee was very glad to learn that a motel room wouldn’t be necessary, considering the cost of Ashley’s air fare.
While Ashley was away for the weekend, Shawn was very busy in his new garden, trimming the hedge, improving the stone walkways, planting flowers around the shrine, and pulling weeds. He and Sarah went back and forth between each other’s gardens, borrowing tools or asking for opinions about how one section or another was looking.
He had been reading about the origins of his shrine in Brother Jacob’s book, and learned that it came from a time when an older religion, characterized by Druids and other mysterious figures, was giving way to the newly imported Christian faith. He was fascinated by the complexity of the historical period he was studying, even though comparatively little was known about it, and he planned to continue his studies in the library when he finished the book he had borrowed.
That same weekend also brought many visitors to Lyceum, and Shawn
found himself presented with several questions about the shrine. On one occasion he knew the answer, and was able to enjoy a ten-minute discussion about Celtic Christianity with the visitor. On another occasion he had to admit ignorance, but promised to do some research in case the visitor ever returned. But on a third occasion he realized, the moment the question was asked, that the asker had absolutely no interest in an answer. The question was just a thinly disguised judgment about any branch of Christianity that was not, to the asker, the correct branch. Shawn smiled and said he didn’t know.
And he thought of his father.
Ashley returned late Sunday night, but wasn’t able to get together with her friends until Monday night. Over slices of cherry pie in the nearly empty Dining Hall, she told them about the Special Olympics, but the most exciting thing was her discovery that she could do her vault almost perfectly at the gym in Cheyenne. She was already working with her coaches to figure out what was different, and they suspected that she had accidentally set the vaulting horse higher than usual.
As ten o’clock was passing, Liberty excused herself to join Jason for a swim, and Tabitha and Sarah headed outside to play in the moonlight, giggling as they went. Ashley remained, poking at the last few crumbs on her plate. Shawn noticed that she seemed lost in thought, and moved over to sit beside her.
“Hi,
Ashes.”
“Hi, Shawn,” she said in a dispirited voice.
“You look lost.”
“Just wondering when I’ll get to see Tim again. I keep suggesting ideas, but nothing works out for both of us. I haven’t seen him since... Christmas.”
She let out a little laugh that was more sad than funny.
“I’m sorry...” Shawn said, not knowing what else to say.
“For awhile it was working so well, you know, me being here at Lyceum, him in New Orleans. Now... I don’t know what to do.”
Shawn’s mind couldn’t think of any helpful suggestions. But his heart saw an opportunity. “If it doesn’t work out, maybe... you’d consider going out with me sometime...?”
Ashley looked at her friend with a mixture of shock and a big grin on her face. “Wow... gosh... but, Shawn...!”
“I know. You’re still promised to Tim. And I’m glad. He’s a very special guy.”
“It’s not that, Shawn. It’s that... how do I say this... it’s pretty obvious that you like someone, and she likes you!”
Shawn’s mouth opened in surprise. Ashley’s statement made his mind reel, and forced him to become aware of what he had been hiding from himself, what he had been assuming was impossible.
Ashley continued. “You and I both need to be patient with the relationships we have. Mine is hard because of distance, and yours is hard for other reasons.” Then she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh darn, Karen’s waiting for me in the gym!”
She started to hop out of her seat, but then stopped herself. Her friend had just opened his heart to her, and no one else, except Tim, had ever before done that. A wave of warm feelings for Shawn swept through her, and she realized how much she really did like him. He deserved a response to his offer, and Ashley felt she could honestly give him one that would set his mind at ease. She settled back into her chair.
“Shawn, you are one of my dearest friends, and I like you a whole lot. If things don’t work out with our other relationships, I would be very, very happy — and very honored — to go out with you and become much more than a friend.” She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek, and dashed for the gym.
For the next week and a half, Ashley focused all her energies on preparing for two events that were occurring at the same time.
As her gymnastics training expanded in preparation for the upcoming National Championships, she had to temporarily set aside her classes and hand her work shifts over to others. Her floor exercise made all her coaches smile with pride, and her uneven parallel bar routine brought the entire gym over to watch, mouths open in wonder. Her balance beam presentation looked like a ten, but they knew it was, of all the events, the one most susceptible to nerves. And finally her vault, with the horse at a height they
never would have imagined she could use, was looking better than ever.
At the same time, she was preparing for Shawn’s nineteenth birthday, which she could not personally attend because of the Championships. At nearly midnight of each day, with twelve or more hours of training behind her, she would pull what she was making out of a drawer and work on it until sleep overcame her. And she was becoming more and more comfortable with the thought that if she and Tim couldn’t make their long-distance relationship work, she would have to let go of her first love and accept the imperfect situation of giving her heart to another boy.
Chapter 9: A Medal or a Friend
Shawn was dealing with a head full of mixed feelings on Saturday, May 25th, his nineteenth birthday. He had no scheduled work shifts, but tried to keep himself busy helping out here and there, at least when he wasn’t watching the Gymnastics Championships on the large screen in the Residential Lobby.
Shortly before noon he saw a girl earn a score of 9.8 on the uneven parallel bars, the same girl who possessed enough love and strength in her heart to practically promise to love him if other things didn’t work out for both of them. It was the second best score of the event, only surpassed by a 9.9 from Texas. As he watched, another girl sat quietly beside him, a girl he had been slowly getting to know for more than two years, first in letters, then as a fellow member of Lyceum. Tears of confusion nearly filled his eyes.
The fact that it was his birthday only made it all worse. For years his father had been arranging parties at church for him, and few of the kids who came seemed to want to be there. But now he was an adult, he was no longer living in his parent’s house, and he could have any kind of birthday party he wanted, and invite just who he wanted.
A good two dozen people at Lyceum had their gifts for him ready, and were just waiting for some kind of hint from him as to what he wanted to do. The possibilities were many, from an excursion into Portland, to a lively hot pool party, to skating or dancing, to a quiet party like Liberty had hosted. April suggested to Brother Jacob that they just start a party somewhere, stack up
his presents, and invite him. Jacob counseled that they wait a little longer.
At about three o’clock, Shawn watched Ashley earn a 9.7 for her vault, and wondered how she ever worked up the courage to sprint at full speed down the runway, launch herself off the springboard, and hurl herself into the air after contacting the vaulting horse, spinning and twisting, only to land on her feet with nearly perfect poise a second or two later. Her courage was contagious. He went to find his mentor.
By dinner-time Brother Jacob had mobilized all of Shawn’s friends, youth and adult, and they were happily at work decorating the social room in Avalon Hall. Liberty and Jason were put in charge of selecting music, and April and Brenda worked together to assemble beverages and snacks.
When Shawn came in with his mentor at seven o’clock, Sarah and Charleen were in their dance tights and leotards having some free-style fun to some lively music. Shawn stood and watched, a smile on his face. He could tell that Sarah was greatly simplifying her dance skills for Charleen’s sake, who was just a beginner.
The song ended and Liberty dashed over to Shawn. “May I have the first dance with this handsome nineteen-year-old?”
Before he could answer, Charleen was there too. “And may I have the second dance?”
The music played, Shawn danced with most of the young ladies, and all of the not-so-young ladies. His mood slowly improved, and he enjoyed sipping spritzers and sampling all kinds of chips and dips.
Then people began presenting him with gifts. There were books and clothes, disks and jars of goodies, posters and small tools. And when he thought he had received a gift from everyone, Jacob came forward with one more.
“Didn’t you already give me something?”
“This is from Ashley, who apologizes for not being here.”
Shawn felt a warm glow fill his heart the moment the gymnast’s name was mentioned. He opened the box, to find a beautiful wooden cross inlaid with colored gemstones. As he gazed at it, he recalled a fact that he had totally forgotten: of all the young people at Lyceum other than himself, Ashley was about the most religious. It was true that she didn’t talk about it much, but he
had often seen her on her way to the Hall of Shrines or the Temple when no event was scheduled, and he had several times stumbled upon her in odd corners of the campus deep in prayer.
Sarah appeared beside him. “We thought it would look beautiful on the wall in your room. I helped Ashley find the stones, but she did all the work.
Do you like it?”
“Yes,
very
much.”
After he spoke those words, he suddenly felt comforted by someone, or something, he couldn’t see or understand, and all the confusion seemed to drain from his mind. He looked at the young girl standing beside him. She had beautiful blond hair, she stood with the poise of an experienced dancer, and she would soon be entering adolescence. Shawn had never really been bothered by the scar tissue on the side of her face and neck. She was beautiful to him.
“I haven’t yet danced with you. May I?” he asked, extending his hand.
Sarah shrugged and smiled shyly. “I haven’t done much dancing... I mean, with boys.”
Liberty had put on a slow, melodic song. Several other people were already dancing.
“I’m not very good either,” Shawn said.
Sarah took a small step closer to him. He put his arms around her, and then guided as they slowly moved to the music. The new clarity he was experiencing made him feel happier than he could remember feeling in many weeks.
It’s obvious that you like someone, and she likes you! Ashley’s words echoed in his mind even as the song was ending.
“Thank you very much, Sarah.”
“Thank you, Shawn.”
Shawn spent the remainder of his birthday party sitting beside the refreshment table pondering all the thoughts and feelings he had had that day. He was looking forward to a good night’s sleep to help him sort it all out, but he knew he had one more task to complete.
By the time Shawn turned out the lights and crawled into bed, the cross Ashley and Sarah had made was hanging on the wall above his desk. Its
multi-colored stones gleamed softly in the moonlight glow that entered his window. He thought of Ashley, and of Liberty, and lastly of Sarah as he fell into a restful sleep.
As Ashley ate breakfast on Sunday morning with her coaches and teammates, she knew that her scores from the previous day had put her amongst the top ten competitors, out of one hundred and sixty-two gymnasts, and her two strongest events still lay ahead. She was getting excited.
The scrambled eggs and ham were tasty and she knew she needed some protein, but she also wanted to make sure she got plenty of fruit and yogurt.
She was glad that Sister Shannon had an ice chest stocked full of goodies in case she needed something.
During both events on the previous day, the Sports Pavilion had been set up so that four gymnasts could perform at the same time. Ashley had silently dedicated her parallel bar routine to Tim, and her vault to her dear friend Liberty. Her scores had been everything she could have hoped for.
But she knew today would be different. The floor exercises, performed to music, had to be done only one at a time. A different gymnast was scheduled to begin every two minutes, and if they were even seconds late, or the disk they had handed in was not properly cued, they would be disqualified from the event. Even with such tight timing and strict rules, it would take nearly six hours for all of the floor routines to be completed.
Ashley already knew her schedule. The performances began at 9:16, and all of the gymnasts and coaches took the rules very seriously after seeing the 9:22 person disqualified for being late. When your name was called, you had about five seconds to get onto the mat. Period.
Ashley was in the warm-up room by ten o’clock, and Tabitha was also in a leotard to help her with stretching. At Ashley’s request, Karen took her through limbering and stretching, warm-up and more stretching. Then Coach Faelan took her through all her difficult tumbling skills and tricky transitions.
Shannon was ready with fruit juice and a few peanuts.
As 10:30 passed, Ashley donned earphones so she could listen to her own selected music several times instead of the music of other gymnasts. The 10:36 gymnast was disqualified for a defective disk. Ashley felt for the girl,
who walked off the mat with her chin on her chest, knowing that no power in the universe could bring back her one and only chance at the ribbons and medals.
At 10:40, Ashley listened to her music for the last time. She closed her eyes and imagined herself on that floor, doing all her dance moves and tumbles perfectly. Sister Shannon massaged her legs and back at the same time. At 10:42, Ashley headed for the starting position.
Your strength is in your light touch and your smooth landings, she could hear her coach back in Rapid City saying. The gymnast before her finished, earning a 9.3.
This one is for Karen! she said to herself. The clock changed to 10:44, and Ashley stepped onto the floor and scrunched herself into her starting posture.
The music began, and for the first few notes, Ashley didn’t move. Then she burst straight up into the air, somersaulted in place, and landed on her toes already dancing. The audience was stunned and Ashley could hear and feel their excitement. This was what she loved most, making her audience happy, and letting their energy add to her own.
She danced in wider and wider circles, and had completed most of the required tumbling skills before she began the serious part of her routine. It started suddenly with a punch-back at the moment the music entered its rhythmic climax, and continued with three passes across the floor, each more complex than the one before, with single somersaults changing into doubles, aerials becoming twisting aerials, and handsprings changing into back-flip handspring combinations, the whole thing ending with a triple pirouette spin that placed her back in her original posture.
The audience roared, and the judges looked at each other as they all pressed the same key.
“Ashley Riddle... ten,” the loudspeaker announced.
Ashley was shaking as she walked back to where her coaches and friends were waiting. Karen was practically bouncing out of her wheelchair. Tabitha embraced her teammate, and Coach Faelan was grinning proudly. Shannon handed Ashley a cup of juice as soon as she was sure the very excited, very happy gymnast wouldn’t drop it.
Because of the length of time necessary to get all of the floor exercises completed, there was no official lunch time on Sunday. Everyone simply went to lunch when neither they nor anyone they wanted to watch was scheduled to perform. The Lyceum group walked to a nearby restaurant shortly before noon, and Ashley was able to have one of her favorite foods in the whole world: spinach salad with diced chicken, lightly dressed with low-calorie Italian. She knew it would be well digested and she would be munching on fruit and yogurt before her last event.
When they returned to the Sports Pavilion, Ashley felt the need to do some stretching, so she headed down to the warm-up room. She was almost there when she saw a girl coming toward her who looked familiar. Her mind was cast back more than two years to a slight conflict and an offer of friendship that was never fulfilled.
Both girls stopped and looked at each other.
“Hello,
Ashley.”
“Hi, Cheryl. I heard you got another medal in South Dakota!”
“Yeah... bronze. You weren’t here last year, were you?”
“No. I couldn’t find a gym in time that did elite levels.”
“Well... looks like you’re gonna bump me again.”
Ashley looked puzzled.
“You’re in third place right now, and I’m in fourth,” Cheryl explained.
“But your balance beam is awesome, Cheryl!”
“So’s
yours.”
Ashley felt bad. Cheryl was a really good gymnast. She wished there was some way to help her with her dream of getting a national medal. She remembered seeing her name on the results of last year’s Championships, somewhere around 25th place. She felt she had to do something.
“If it will help your chances, I’ll step out,” Ashley said.
Cheryl looked at her askance, but Ashley didn’t flinch. “You’d... actually do that for me?” the taller gymnast said in an incredulous tone.
“Sometimes, in international diplomacy, you gain a lot more by giving in than by being rigid. Maybe if I step out I’ll gain a friend.”
“International
what?”
“Diplomacy. I’m working on my Level Two United Nations Clearance.”
“I’m working on not flunking eighth grade math!”
“Math is hard for me, too. Do you want me to step out?”
Cheryl looked troubled. After a moment her face softened, and Ashley had a hunch she was seeing the real Cheryl for the first time.
“Um... that wouldn’t be fair. I’ll still get onto the Olympic Team if I can stay in the top seven.”
“It would be really nice to know someone on the Team if I make it too,”
Ashley said.
“Yeah. Well... if you’ll watch my beam routine, maybe say a little prayer for me, I’ll do the same for you.”
“It’s a deal!” Ashley said, grinning.
Cheryl started to walk away, but then stopped. “Maybe... we could be friends, no matter who gets what place...?”
“I’d like that,” Ashley said. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I have to get on a train for home at nine.”
“Me and my coaches and friends are going out to dinner at about seven.
Want to join us? We have a van so we can take you to the train station afterwards.”
“Wow. Okay. And maybe you could tell me a little more about... what was it... international diplomacy?”
Ashley smiled and waved as she headed on toward the warm-up room.
This one is for Shawn, Ashley said to herself as she waited for the judges to signal her. They soon did, and she walked forward and looked at the sixteen foot long beam. A deep breath, a side aerial, and she was up.
Most people remembered the floor exercise that had earned Ashley a perfect ten a few hours before, and their eyes were on her, even though three other gymnasts were performing. Word had gotten around, to those who didn’t already know, that Ashley had taken a very respectable ribbon at the last Chunichi Cup. As she danced and tumbled on the four-inch wide beam, she was, without realizing it, stepping into the realm of world-class gymnastics. Nothing remained in any of her routines that could be called easy. Every punch-back on the beam, every somersault and aerial completed with perfect form and perfect balance received a response from the audience.
But it was her last run across the beam that was decisive. Double somersaults were common on the dismount. Ashley performed one, but she wasn’t yet dismounting. Her feet found the beam again and she launched herself into a double twisting back-flip before landing. The applause made her grin like a clown as she bowed to the judges and the spectators.
“Ashley Riddle, 9.9.”
She felt good about it. She knew her routine was too daring to be perfect.
She also knew that few other gymnasts were grabbing better than 9.5 for their beam routines. Cheryl had pulled off a 9.7, and someone else had earned a 9.8. Ashley was very content.
At half past five all of the beam routines were done and the apparatus was being cleared from the floor of the pavilion. There was much chatter in the bleachers as everyone tried to guess or figure out who the winners were.
Ashley just sat back and relaxed, and hoped that Cheryl’s wishes would come true.
The ribbons and prizes began with 20th place. Ashley, Tabitha, Karen, and their coaches clapped for them all. They were the twenty best female gymnasts in the country. They all deserved recognition.
With every passing name that wasn’t Cheryl, Ashley was getting more and more excited. She knew for an absolute fact that Cheryl was in the top twenty, even though she didn’t remember all of her new friend’s scores. When the master of ceremonies got to eighth place, and it wasn’t Cheryl, Ashley knew that one of her friend’s dreams was coming true. She would definitely be on the Olympic Team. Ashley smiled.
A very happy seventh place went up to get her ribbon. Ashley was starting to bounce up and down. Sixth place wasn’t Cheryl either.
“The fifth place goes to Cheryl Adams of South Dakota!”
Ashley clapped and cheered as Cheryl went up for her ribbon and prizes.
She looked happy. Ashley knew that every girl there wanted to get the gold medal, but all but one had to settle for less. She hoped her offer of friendship and dinner had helped to make Cheryl happy, even if just a little.
Fourth place went up, and then the bronze medallist, and Ashley clapped for both. She had seen the third place winner’s floor exercise and balance
beam routine, and they were both excellent.
“The silver medal goes to Ashley Riddle, here by special invitation!”
Ashley started to clap for the lucky silver medallist, and only a moment later realized that it was herself, and her clapping was replaced by giggles and even a few tears. Coach Faelan almost had to shove her out onto the pavilion floor.
She felt the medal being slipped over her head, and she somehow managed to climb onto the winners’ platform along with the bronze and gold medallists.
As soon as the formalities seemed to be over, she ran to find Cheryl.
“I hope you’re still my friend!” Ashley said, facing the fifth place winner.
Cheryl’s face was a mixture of emotions, but the smile was winning. “I’m certainly not going to get anywhere by being a snob, am I? If you had dropped out, I’d still only be fourth. I’m the fifth best gymnast in the country, fair and square, and I’m on the Olympic Team. If that isn’t enough to make me happy, what is?”
Ashley embraced her new friend.
“And besides,” Cheryl said, “I want to learn more about international diplomacy!”
For the next hour, Ashley and the other medallists answered questions from various media representatives and smiled for photographs. Ashley spent as much of that time as possible near her coaches and friends, and many of the photographs that later came out in magazines and newspapers contained both the silver medallist and the fifth place winner standing side my side.
When asked who her coaches were, Ashley always listed five people, two back in Rapid City, and three at Lyceum, one of whom smiled from her wheelchair when she heard her name mentioned.
During dinner, Cheryl received an animated description of Lyceum from all three young people, and Brother Faelan explained how Ashley had become involved in international diplomacy. Cheryl’s respect for the younger gymnast soared. By the time they took their new friend to the train station, the three youth had promised to send her pictures and information about Lyceum, and she had vowed to do everything possible to arrange a visit.
Ashley stood with her new friend on the platform as they waited for the
boarding announcement.
“Well, even if we can’t get together sooner, I’ll see you at Olympic Training Camp!” Cheryl said.
“Yeah. But I get in and out of South Dakota pretty often. I’ll try to stop by some time.”
“Okay! I’ll tell my parents that you’re always welcome.”
“Thanks!”
“First boarding call for the California Zephyr to Sacramento, Reno, Salt Lake City, Denver, Omaha, and Chicago,” someone said over a loudspeaker.
“Bye! Keep tumbling!”
“You
too!”
Ashley slept deeply that night, and had much to think about on the long drive back to Lyceum the following day. She had experienced what it was like to compete in the National Championships. She was bringing home a silver medal. And, with Cheryl’s help, she had learned some new things about international diplomacy.