It was the time when the shadows lengthened. Summer was playing out his last carefree golden days in early September, and autumn was just hinting at her arrival with the tinkling of moon-lit, chilly nights and the first sprinkling of colors among the high trees of Southall. A lawn tractor hummed its lazy song around the Dupris’s wide lawns, making a strange duet with the high-pitched whirr of a weed-whacker, while a hedge trimmer kept time along a prodigious wall of three-foot shrubs that encompassed the property along two sides. It had been a fairly dry season, but the deep well behind the house and the large sprinkler system kept the grass a lush green and prompted the weekly manicure by Borsov Lawn and Garden.
Today two men and a woman were merrily toiling away, the woman riding the tractor, a portable CD player blaring rock music under her ear protection. One man operated the hedge trimmer while the other one worked the weed-whacker. The Duprises were picky enough that they demanded that none other than Ken Olivier be present while the work progressed. Though now general manager of BL&G, he was more often found at some home or business, doing some of the more menial jobs, rather than bouncing around in the manager’s new, big Jeep Grand Cherokee, checking in on the half-dozen work crews scattered around the county and into the next. Vern Borsov’s taking up a second career as a classical guitarist had effectively left Ken the owner of the business in all but name. Vern still took his cut of the profits every month, but besides that he didn’t even care to live in Southall anymore, having moved up to the state capital. Well, Vicki’s rejection of him would have made him a bit unhappy, Ken mused; and Vern was never really one to face his emotions. Besides, who should tamper with a good thing? Business was better than ever, and he could be off doing whatever he wanted.
Between the heavy ear protectors and his thoughts Ken didn’t even hear his employee until the man stood beside him and tapped him on the shoulder. He quickly shut down the hedge-trimmer and pulled off the headset.
“Ayuh?”
“It’s five o’clock, Ken,” Barry announced, swinging the weed-whacker back over his shoulder. “We were going to quit early.”
The blond man squinted down the hedgerow, eyeing the section he’d trimmed roughly earlier, but had been unable to cut to perfection. Maybe another half-hour—or maybe better next week. It was the section behind the house, away from the road and he knew that Mrs. Dupris was away for the next ten days, visiting relatives in Colorado. And Mr. Dupris was blind, so he couldn’t tell whether they were trimmed or not. Still, Ken’s conscience pricked him at leaving everything any less than perfect.
We’ll give them a discount this week, he thought. After all, I didn’t bring Lenny in, so that’s one less hourly wage they’ll have to pay.
“Okay,” he told Barry after a moment. “Have Monique put the tractor back on the trailer. Be there in a minute.” Barry grinned broadly, dark eyes shining with delight, and hurried off to get his stuff put away. Ken knew that was one thing that his employees liked about him—no forced overtime, just because he felt like it. What they didn’t like was the fact that he cared nothing for rain and had them out working in light to moderate sprinkles, whereas Vern had been known to call a day off at the merest hint of precipitation. Ken smiled to himself at the memories and padded across the springy green expanse. For some reason he always felt more like he was walking across a golf course rather than the back lawn of the mansion of the largest fishing industrialist in town. Well, you could do a lot of things if you had money. And—talking about money—he couldn’t wait to get home to see if the closing had gone through as Harry had promised him.
• • •
The drive back to the office, the stowing of the equipment, and the filing of the paperwork took longer than Ken expected (Ken’s secretary, Anne Roget, was an excellent administrator, but did have a penchant to like paper a bit too much), but he finally was able to grab a land-line and dial Harry’s number.
“Beldieu,” came the crisp answer.
“And?” was all Ken asked.
“Well, it’s covered, Ken,” the investor and real estate agent laughed into the other end. “We outbid the other customers by a whisker. As a matter of fact, they were coming back with a counter-offer, but I think the Hansons took a liking to you…”
“Only been doing their lawns for three years,” Ken shot back. “Gotta count for something!”
“Yes, it did. Come on over tomorrow and I’ll have the paperwork for you, okay?”
“Sure.” Ken paused for a moment and then asked the other question that he had on his heart. “How’s Pris?” Harry let out a sigh.
“She had another episode the other evening and is back with the therapist. I’m on my way to pick her up.” There was a pause. “And it had been good for six months. I don’t see where we’ve gone wrong.”
“Some things just take time, Harry,” the blond man soothed. “I’m praying.”
“Thanks, Ken.” There was a fumbling noise and a suppressed curse. “There goes Rip Thol again!” Harry came back. “I swear, we’ve got to get Downs to yank his license!”
“Yeah, catch you later, man.”
“See you.” And they cut the connection. It was all Ken could do not to let out a whoop. The house was his! After all this time he finally had gotten it. He’d drive over right away… and then he checked his watch. No, no good. He had to get home, get dinner, and get over to Elliot’s for singles’ flock. Some things just had to wait. Well, maybe he could just drive by it. After all, it was on his way home. He called good-night to Anne, hurried out, and climbed into the black Mustang he’d picked up only a week earlier. Between his new car and his new home he was on his way to success. There was only one thing – one person – missing and she was just a dream. The thought dampened his mood some, but he forced it away from himself and drove off.
• • •
His “drive by” turned into a stop-over and what with wandering through the rooms, he found himself almost twenty minutes late to flock, barely having enough time to shower, throw on some clean clothes, and grab a sandwich at his parents’ home. He parked his car off the side of the McDermotts’ driveway and hurried to the house. He let himself in, hoping to be unnoticed. The happy chatter of the twenty-odd singles lounging on and among the couches caught him up and drew him to the living-room. Good, they haven’t started.
“Hey, Kenner,” came Elliot’s voice from the kitchen.
“What’s up?” Ken replied with a quick smile.
“Oh, nothing much.” The small group leader gestured towards the kitchen. “Drink and dessert?” The blond man followed his friend.
“No study tonight?” he asked.
“No, we’ve got an old friend in and she’s going to tell us a bit about what she’s been up to.” Elliot grinned, brushed at his goatee, and his shaved head fairly glowed with delight.
“Who is it?” Ken wanted to know.
“She’s been asking about you and absolutely wouldn’t start until you got here,” the other man laughed. “Pie or cake?” He didn’t wait for Ken’s answer, but dropped a large piece of each on the plate.
“Hey, one or the other!” the blond man shot back. “Don’t want to look like you, man!” Elliot laughed and slapped his belly.
“It’s all muscle, Ken, you know that.” He shoved the plate into Ken’s hands. “Now go on into the living room. They’re all waiting for you.”
“Okay, okay,” Ken sighed a laugh, turned, and went through the doorway.
“Ken!” came a call from Little Jimmy, the big Native American boy who had recently joined the group. “You finally made it.”
“Ayuh, sorry I’m late,” he glanced around, noticing the new girl. She looked familiar, he thought, then almost dropped his plate. It was her! For an instant it felt as if something had reached into his chest, grabbed his heart, and squeezed it. Michelle! He felt like turning and running and at the same time wanted to storm across the room and grab her up in a passionate embrace.
“Hi, Kenner,” she laughed, getting up from her place on the couch and coming across to him. She was a sight for his lonely eyes. Her long, dark hair hung loose beyond her shoulders, and she was wearing a white blouse with short, puffy sleeves and a moderate cut and a dress made of a black bodice and black-and-white patterned skirt. Over that was a red apron with a flower pattern. This was completed by flesh-toned nylons and low-heeled shoes of the same tone as her apron. To Ken it looked like she had jumped out of one of his childhood fairytale books.
“Are you going to say something or are you just going to gape, man?” came a voice from beside him.
“Sorry,” he stammered, glancing at Elliot, who was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Hi, Michelle,” he said to the girl, trying to regain his composure. He stuck out his hand awkwardly. She ignored it and gave him a quick hug.
“How come he gets the hug?” one of the other guys complained, just loud enough to spark a few stifled chuckles.
“It’s been a long time,” she replied with a laugh. “Come on and sit down.” Almost mindlessly Ken let himself be led to the sofa where Jerry scooted over to give him room next to his old friend. Somehow, he divested himself of the plate, something he could never really remember having done.
“Okay,” Elliot thundered over the din, “now that Ken’s here, how about we get started.”
“Sure,” Michelle returned.
“Everybody knows Michelle Hayes,” the small group leader began.
“Ken best of all!” someone crowed from across the room. Ken was too far gone to even shoot him a dirty glance.
“Right. Now, she’s been in Germany for the past year and she’s going to tell us a bit about it. Michelle?”
“Hey, Mike,” one of the girls put in, “you were going to tell us about your dress.”
“Okay, Tonya, all in good time,” she replied. “Only, it’s not Mike anymore. It’s not been that for years. You can call me Michelle or Michi, as my German friends like to say.” She pronounced the ch as a slight hissing at the back of her throat, much like a softer version of the Scottish pronunciation. She straightened her apron.
“Now, after I finished college, I was asking God to show me a place where I could go to study the Bible for a while and also reach out to people who needed to hear about Jesus. Mrs. Amos told me about Word of Life over in New York state and I wrote to them. I went up there for a short weekend to visit and see what it was like. I felt it was a bit conservative for my tastes.” This garnered a few knowing nods from the others.
“While I was there,” she went on, “there was a piano concert by a guy called Georg. He was awesome! I’ve never seen anybody play like that. Anyway, I wanted to go talk with him, since I play the piano a bit.” Ken smiled, thinking of how well she actually did. “He was a great guy—from Germany, you know—and he told me about Word of Life Germany. From the way he described it, I immediately wanted to go there. I think I actually asked him if he’d brought any applications for it.” Her green eyes were shining at the memory as she pushed her hair back with one hand. “He slowed me down and told me that I would have to speak fluent German and that I ought to pray about it before applying. I was kind of taken aback by that, but I decided to take his advice. You know me back then; prayer wasn’t exactly something I reveled in.” She took a deep breath and continued.
“Well, I did pray about it, dusted off my German books, and spent two months with old Mr. Blumenauer over in Druin. When they sent me the applications, he helped me fill them out. We had to twist some arms and do some serious praying before they let me come – they don’t usually take foreigners, especially not Americans who have their own Word of Life Bible Institute. But they let me come and when I got there… Wow! It was amazing!” Her hands fluttered as she described the place. “The school is in this old castle off of a big lake in Bavaria—that’s south-eastern Germany. And that’s also where they dress like this.” She motioned to the clothes she was wearing. “This is called a dirndl and it is a traditional dress that is worn in southern Germany.”
“Can you get me one?” Tonya Jenkins asked, her dark face eager. Michelle smiled.
“Maybe. I could write to some friends there.” She took a deep breath. “Well, as to Word of Life, or Wort des Lebens, as they call it—more often they call it vay day el, which is the way you pronounce the letters W, D, and L in German.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts and plunged in again. “WdL is in this big castle, as I said, but they also have this huge palace, both of which really belong to the government, but are leased to the school.
“But before I could go, I had to take a German language course and I did that in Munich, which wasn’t too far from WdL. I saw Georg again there and also got to meet some really nice people. A Christian family put me up. The man used to be a missionary in the Middle East and was working with people from there in Munich. It was a blast to be there. I made so many friends among the other language students. One was a girl from Iran. The course took a good three months but got me ready for everything that I was going up against.
“Anyway, I was down in the palace when I got there and each of us had jobs around the place. I was in cleaning.” She made a face. “Now you know how I feel about cleaning, but God taught me a lot about humility. You know, here I am in a different country. I’m dealing with the fact that most American’s aren’t really liked—and there was this one guy on the team who was a complete jerk and though that all Americans were from hell....” Someone groaned and remarked that Germans were all idiots.
“Only as much as we are!” Michelle shot back. “They like things the way they are there, just like we like ours. Anyway, I had to deal with this guy and the fact that I was sharing a room with two other girls, Tanya, and Nadine. They got to see my bad side quite often, but they were so sweet! They helped me with my German and when I really missed Southall.” She sighed the last bit and glanced at Ken. He thought he could see a tear forming in her eye. She swiped at it, then went on.
“God taught me so much about being a servant. I met these great, godly people. And then in the summer we helped run these family and youth camps. They were great fun. I got to talk with this one girl and even prayed with her to receive Jesus. It was the most awesome thing. And I want to go back! Even if I can only visit for a short time.”
As she said that, Ken’s throat suddenly constricted. She’s going away again, he thought. And I’m not going to get to see her! Another voice echoed behind it. Well, what did you think, waiting all this time? She was just looking for an excuse to dump you. He slumped back, now sullen. Michelle didn’t seem to notice.
“So, do you have any questions?” she finished.
“Yeah, you pick up a boyfriend there?” Little Jimmy called out.
“James Whitetail!” Michelle exclaimed. “That you would think such a thing! Of course not!” Ken sat up. Maybe there still was hope.
“What did you guys do for your free time?” one girl wanted to know.
“Well, we’d go into town, sometimes we stopped off for a beer or a bratwurst. We went to the movies, and we visited museums. When it got warm us girls would go sunbathing and sometimes we went down to the lake and swam or boated. I slept a lot.”
“What would you say was the main truth you learned while you were there?” Elliot’s wife Constance put in. Michelle looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath.
“The main truth.” She huffed again. “Now that’s a hard one. I learned so much. But I guess I learned a lot about forgiveness.” She looked around at the people in the room. “I found that I had to forgive my parents for dying when they did and my second foster parents and… well, there were a lot of people I had to forgive. And I keep having to forgive them and I keep having to forgive myself.” She leaned forward, gesturing as she began to make her point.
“Forgiving others is what opens the way for God to forgive us. He tells us to forgive them, so that He can pour His grace into our lives. Before I learned that about two-thirds of the way through the year I was struggling to grow and move on.” She made a large gesture. “There was so much I was learning, most of which was true and important, but I wasn’t changing the way I believed God wanted me to. I tried to surrender to Him, but this hate kept coming up. And then I talked with one of the other girls there. Olga is a bit younger than I am, but she’s already learned that truth and when she told me about it and we worked through forgiving people, it was like I exploded. I began growing! God gave me some really tough situations to try out my growth in, but He brought me through each one. So I guess that’s the biggest thing I learned.”
Ken did his best to keep his mouth shut over this new, improved Michelle. If she lived up to half of what she said she now believed, she was way out of his league. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. More people shot questions at Michelle who answered them with equal ease and with more emphasis on spiritual things, but Ken wasn’t listening anymore. Might his dream become reality, or might he have lost her to something bigger? After all, she wanted to go back to Germany, back to that castle.
What about me here? I’ve waited more than two years. And now she’s so different. Do I even still love her? Strangely, for the first time, there was no ready answer and he longed for the session to be over so that he could escape.
Elliot’s voice broke into his reverie.
“Okay, now that you’ve heard some of Michelle’s prayer requests, let’s take some time to pray for her as she fits back into the U.S., finds a job, and renews old relationships.” There were murmurs of assent. The group bowed their heads and prayed for their new old friend, but Ken found he couldn’t join in. He’d prayed for her often during those long years where they’d been apart and she’d grown—far more than in his wildest dreams, but now he felt he couldn’t face her. I need to think about this, he decided. Maybe talk to Larry.
Then the prayers were over, and people started talking and laughing. Several people began getting up and preparing to leave. Ken looked at his watch—two hours had already gone by and it was nine. He pushed himself up off the couch, mumbled a general farewell and slipped out of the house.
He hadn’t even made it half-way down the driveway when he heard a voice call after him.
“Kenner!” He turned to see the dirndl-clad figure hurrying after him with a feminine grace that he had only imagined before. She came to stand before him, the moonlight glinting off of her dark tresses.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “I thought we could spend some time together and talk.”
“Sorry, Michelle, I can’t,” he told her. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”
“So we’ll watch the time.” She reached for his hand. “Just half an hour.” He drew back.
“No, I can’t.” He looked down at her, his dark eyes distant. Michelle looked up, searching, she sensed that there was something.
“What is it, Ken?” she said so softly it was almost a whisper. “Are you scared?”
“No—yes! God, Michelle!” He glared down at her. “Did you think we could just pick it up where we left off? It’s not that easy!”
“Of course, I didn’t, Kenner,” she replied, taking a step back. “I missed you, too.”
“Then why didn’t you write back?” he demanded. “Do you know how long it’s been?”
“Two years, two months and eleven days,” she returned. “That’s 802 days. And I counted every one.” She drew in a ragged sigh. “Kenner, did you know that I cried myself to sleep every night for two weeks after we talked up at the ridge? Did you know that I spent that day locked up in my room for the past two years? I know what I did hurt you and it hurt me, too. But it was necessary, don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t,” he snapped. “I don’t see how we would have kept you from growing. For heaven’s sake, Michelle, couldn’t you have at least replied when I wrote to you? I e-mailed you once a week when you returned to college, but you wouldn’t write, then the letters got bounced back, and then you were off to Germany, and I didn’t even see you between your graduation and your leaving! If you were serious about us, you could have at least corresponded!”
“I’m sorry, Ken,” she said evenly. “I changed my e-mail address that fall and when I e-mailed you the change it came back.” She made a half-smile. “‘lusciousbabe54’ was not exactly what I wanted to be known as.”
“Well, that clinched it, Michelle.” He sighed. “I haven’t seen you in two years and then you walk into my life again. No warning, nothing.” He glared down at her. “How long have you been back, anyway?” His right hand was pumping and even in the darkness she could see the burning in his eyes before he looked away. “Look, I’ll catch up with you when I’ve cooled down, okay?”
“Okay.” She turned to go, then called over her shoulder. “Check your messages when you get home. I left two of them, one two days ago and one today.” And with that she was gone. Kenner turned around, stomped down to his car, climbed in, slammed the door, and leaned his forehead on his steering wheel.
“God, why again?” he demanded. “Why does it always hit when everything is going so well?” He listened for a long moment, but there was no answer forthcoming, so he turned the key, gunned the engine, and drove off into the night.