Bad Connection (19 page)

Just before leaving, I open the hall closet. I have no idea why, but I open it and just stand there, as if I'm going to pull out a coat and head out the door. I see a pink parka with fake white fur trim around the hood. I remember seeing Kayla wearing that last year. Out of earshot, Olivia had told me that Kayla probably thought she looked like Paris Hilton in it, and we both laughed. Now I feel badly about that. I reach out and touch the sleeve of the jacket and sigh. “I'm sorry, Kayla.” Then I start to close the door but am hit with a flash of light, and I stop.

I see Kayla's face now. Clearly and with no duct tape covering her mouth. “I'm sorry,” she is saying with tears running down her cheeks. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” And then she is gone. That's all. I wait, hoping for something more. Something that will mean something and help us to find her. But all I see are coats and scarves and hats. Nothing out of the ordinary.

My hands are shaking as I close the closet door. I pause and consider walking through the house again, but
it's already after three o'clock. I've been here for nearly an
TL
hour, and Ebony is probably getting cold out in her car. Finally, I decide to give up. But as I lock the door and walk back out to the car, it occurs to me that I should be feeling a little bit encouraged. At least Kayla was alive in this vision. That means she's not the girl lying in the dirt. At least not yet.

I tell Ebony about my vision, and she asks some questions. “Was there anything in the background?”

“No.”

“Did you see what she was wearing?”

“No.”

“Anything different about her hair?”

“No.” I sigh. “Sorry. It's not much help, is it?”

“What about jewelry or makeup?”

I consider this. “I don't remember any earrings or anything, And no makeup either. And I guess that's kind of different since Kayla was always into jewelry and makeup.”

“Yes, that's what her mother told -me too.”

“But I do feel hopeful,” I tell her. “I mean, that she's alive. That's something, isn't it?”

She nods as she backs out of the driveway. “Yes. That is something. What do you think she was sorry about?”

“I'm not sure… At first I thought it was probably that she'd left home and stuff, like she was regretting making a stupid choice like that. But then her face seemed sort of terrified too, like she was apologizing to someone with more power than she had, like she was telling someone that she was sorry so he wouldn't hurt her. You know?”

“Yes. That had occurred to me too.” ft

She drives in silence again and I begin to pray. I continue to beg God to protect Kayla, and Elena too. I'm certain that they're both in danger. “Do you think that Kayla and Elena could be connected?” I ask suddenly. “Likecould they be in the same place together? In the same kind of trouble?”

“I've wondered about that too.”

“Don't you think that if God keeps giving me visions, wouldn't that mean He plans to help them? That He'll show us where they are before it's too late?”

“It would seem that way, Samantha.”

And that's what I think too. Why would God waste His time showing me these things if He didn't have a plan? I just pray that I can stay tuned in and open to hearing Him, if and when He's ready to show us something more. And I pray that I can remain patient too. Because the truth is, right now I want to shout at God. I want to shake my fist and demand to know why He doesn't just make Himself clear. Why doesn't He just speak plainly? Why is He so mysterious? And why is this taking so darn long?

B
y the end of the week and with no news about Kayla or Elena, I'm trying not to obsess over these two missing girls. I've been praying for them more than ever and hoping that somehow they might both be found before Christmas. But it's only four days away now, and I'm thinking it's probably unlikely. Still, I'm trying not to be depressed. I'm trying to trust God.

Fortunately I can distract myself from this today. It's Saturday, and Olivia and I are going to the see the new Narnia movie with Conrad and Alex tonight! And while we're not calling it a date per se, I know that both Olivia and I are pretty jazzed about it. And Olivia decided that we should “dress up.” Oh, not like we're going to a formal dance or anything as lame as that, just something a little nicer than jeans. But now as I search through my closet, trying to find that special something, I'm thinking that my old jeans are looking pretty good. Why did I agree to this?

I'm just getting ready to call Olivia to beg for some quick fashion suggestions when my cell phone rings. I quickly answer it, thinking it's probably Olivia asking me what I'm wearing, but instead it's Ebony.

“Sorry to bother you on your day off,” she says.

I laugh. That's okay. I don't really think of it like that.”

“Well, there's been a new development.” Her voice sounds serious, and I get a chilly feeling on my skin. q

“What is it?” I ask in a quiet voice. 3

“The girl in your vision, the one who was dead, has been found.” .5”

“Is it Kayla?” I ask, my voice breaking as I imagine my old friend dead.

“No. It was Elena.”

“Oh.” Even though I'm relieved that it's not Kayla, tears slip down my cheeks as I think of Elena.

“It was just like Michael's drawing. Really amazing, Samantha.”

I'm crying now and I can't even speak.

“I know this must be hard for you,” she says. “We're all feeling upset and sad, but we're also feeling encouraged. You were right on. Your vision really was a gift from God. You shouldn't—”

“But why did He show me too late? Why couldn't we have gotten to Elena sooner?”

“I don't know, Samantha. I don't know much about any of this yet. But the FBI agent I've been working with—his name is Tony—wants to meet you. He's very impressed with your—”

“But what about Kayla?”
I demand through my tears. “What does this mean for her?” I use the back of my hand to wipe my nose. “Do you think she's dead too?”

“Like I said, I don't know. I'm sorry…we really don't know much yet. I'm waiting on Tony for more details. And I
know this is upsetting for you to hear. I just thought you -e should know what was going on.”

“I know…I know…” I try to get ahold of myself. “I'm sorry for getting mad at you, Ebony. It's not your fault. But it's just so frustrating.”

“Trust me, I know how you feel. I really wanted to find Elena while she was still alive. I'm still hoping that we'll find Kayla—soon. I can't imagine why God would give you these specific dreams and visions if He doesn't want us to find her alive.”

The image from my vision flashes through my mind's eye again—Elena lying in the dirt, dead and pale and lifeless, and I begin to cry even harder now. From the sweet-looking girl in the photo on the missing persons list, she appeared to be about my age, probably with a family who dearly loved her, and now she is dead. Probably tortured and beaten and God only knows what else before she died. It's just too much to absorb.

“Are you going to be okay, Samantha?” Ebony asks in a compassionate voice. “Are you home alone? Do you need to—?”

“I'm okay. Just a little shaken.” I take in a quick, jagged breath. “It makes my head and my heart actually hurt just to think of Elena, you know, like that. And then Kayla…”

“I know…”

“But I appreciate you telling me. I'll be praying for Elena's family.”

“Yes, this is hard news. Especially at Christmas.”

I sink down onto my bed. “Yeah…”

“We might need your help, Samantha.” co

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Tony wants to talk to you.”

“The FBI guy?” i

“Yes. He's very interested in your work.”

“My work?” I flop onto my back now, pushing my hair o back and letting out a deep breath.

“Yes. I wasn't quite sure how to explain you to him. He sort of thinks that you work with us at the police department.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, I know that it's almost Christmas, but I wondered if you'd be interested in flying down to Phoenix with me.”

I sit up straight. “To Phoenix? When?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe tomorrow morning…”

“Tomorrow morning?” I'm trying to wrap my head around this. Ebony wants me to fly to Phoenix tomorrow? Like just three days before Christmas? “Why?”

“Tony thinks you can help them find Kayla.”

“Oh.”

“What do you think, Samantha?”

“I don't know… I mean, of course I
want
to find Kayla—more than anything. But I'm just not sure how I can help. It's not as if I control this thing, not any more than I can control God. Like you said, Ebony, I'm just the vessel.”

“But you're willing?”

“Of course.”

“Then, do you mind if I talk to your mom about this?”

“No, of course not.” Although I know this may pose a problem since I cannot imagine Mom giving her blessing
for me to go to Phoenix with Ebony on such short notice like this. And just a few days before Christmas too.

“Is she at work?”

I look at my watch. “Yeah, until about five I think she said.”

“Okay. I'll keep you posted.”

I hang up and replay what I've just heard, trying to sort out and make sense of it. Elena is dead. Kayla may still be alive. Tony from the FBI thinks I can help them to find her. Ebony wants me to fly down to Phoenix with her tomorrow. She's calling my mom right now. Then the biggest question hits me—what does God want?

I go straight to my knees; fully aware that only God can make something like this work out. Forgetting about my fashion challenge, tonight's “double date,” and everything else about ordinary life, I focus my heart on God—I ask Him to work His will for this, to show Mom and me and Ebony what's best for everyone. And eventually I tell Him that I am His and that I am willing to do whatever He wills for me. “Just keep me in Your will,” I finally pray. “All I want is to do what You want me to do. I trust You. Amen.”

When I stand up and look around my room, I'm surprised to remember that only an hour ago, I was obsessing over what to wear tonight. It suddenly seems so juvenile, so superficial. It's nearly five now, and I'm guessing that Ebony has already called Mom.
Or
maybe she's talking to her right now. I'm tempted to call Olivia to tell her the whole story, but I want to be ready in case Ebony calls me back. I see my Bible sitting on my desk. It's flopped
open to Proverbs right now, and I pick it up and begin to read, randomly, from the right-hand page.

Now, I realize this Scripture isn't like God's green light for me to head off to Phoenix with Ebony tomorrow, but it does give me a strong sense of peace. And if Mom agrees and I do go to Phoenix, it will be because it is God's will. And I'm thinking, if it's God's will to go to Phoenix, maybe it's also His will that we find Kayla. I just pray that we find her alive.

I jump when the phone rings, but this time it's the land line, and this time it's Olivia.

“Ready for the big night?” she asks in a cheerful voice.

“Uh, yeah, I guess…”

“What do you mean,
guess?”
She sounds disappointed. “I thought you were looking forward to this, Samantha.”

“I am. It's just that, well…” And then I tell her the latest news, about Elena and about Ebony's invitation for me to go to Phoenix.

“Man, that's so sad about Elena. I'd really been praying for her.”

“I know, me too.” I feel that spirit of depression coming over me again.

“And they know it's her, for sure?”

“I guess so. Ebony didn't give many details, but I'm pretty sure that rules out the possibility of it being Kayla.”

That's something to be thankful for. Still, it's so tragic for Elena and her family. So sad.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty bummed.” I let out a long sigh.

“Kind of puts a damper on our big night, huh?”

“I'm sorry, Olivia.”

“Hey, it's not your fault, Sam.”

The truth is, I just really don't feel much like going out now.”

“But what good would it do for you to sit at home and feel bad?”

“Yeah, I know…”

“What we need to do is pray, Samantha.”

“I have been praying.”

“Let's pray right now,” she says. “Let's pray for Elena's family. Let's ask God to bring something good out of this tragedy. Okay?”

“Okay.” Then I mostly listen while Olivia prays. Her faith feels like a life preserver that's been thrown out to me as I'm floundering in the waves, and' by the time she says amen and I agree with her, I'm feeling hopeful again.

Thanks,” I tell her. “I needed that.”

“Me too.”

“It's hard to imagine how God can use something like this, but I guess that's where our faith comes in, huh?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess so.”

I look at my messy closet that I've recently ransacked in search of the perfect outfit. “Uh, do you mind if I just wear jeans tonight?”

“Nope. Not at all. Let's go for comfort.” =3

“I better go,” I tell her. “I hear my mom downstairs. I should go find out what she thinks about Ebony's travel o plans for me.”

“Good luck. I'll be praying.”

We hang up, and I go down to see if I can read anything on my mom's face. But as she hangs up her coat and sets down her bag, she looks pretty much the same— slightly haggard but glad to be home.