Bad Connection (4 page)

Okay, I figured it was probably just a one-time thing. And that was just peachy with me. I never even made the connection that it might have to do with my old “gift” of dreaming dreams. I just figured it was God's way of assuring me that things were okay with Dad, and that there
were no hard feelings against me for not telling him about the walking on the wall dream.

I decided to tell Mom about it, and although she said “That's nice,” I could tell she thought it was pretty weird. And even though I told her it was a God-thing and that it o wasn't scary or anything, she seemed uncomfortable. It occurred to me that she hadn't really been going to church much since Dad's death, and I realized how I hardly ever heard her talk about God anymore. And it hit me that she had changed. We all had.

About six months later I had another vision episode. And once again, it caught me totally off guard. It was during Christmas break last year, and Mom had talked me into helping out at the park district's day care center to earn a little extra money. It was afternoon recess, and as usual, I was out on the playground supervising the kids along with a couple of the teachers when I experienced a flash very similar to the one in the tree house. I'm sure it was just a split-second thing, but in that moment it seemed longer as I envisioned three-year-old Aaron Giles tumbling from the top of the slide, toppling over the handrail, and plunging headfirst to the ground.

Without even thinking, I started running straight for the slide, and just as I got there it happened. Somehow—only, with God's help—I caught the little guy in midair, knocking us both to the ground. But I took most of the impact, which left a nice purple bruise on my rear end for a while. The little boy looked as astonished as I felt sitting there in the sawdust with him sprawled across my lap.

“Oh-my-gosh!” exclaimed Kellie, one of the senior teachers, as she raced over to join us. “I saw the whole thing! Is he okay?”

Aaron blinked up at Kellie and nodded. Then Kellie helped us both to our feet. “How about you, Samantha? Are you okay?”

“Seem to be.”

“How on earth did you see
that
coming?” she asked with wide eyes.

“I think it was a God-thing,” I told her.

“Wow.” And although Kellie is this kind of tie-dyed, earth muffin, politically correct, liberal type, she just slowly nodded. “That's cool.”

I smiled at her, but as I walked away my knees started to shake. And that's when the enormity of what could've just happened began to hit me full force. What if I hadn't trusted that vision? What if I had hesitated?

Soon all the teachers were talking about Samantha McGregor's amazing rescue. And I suppose I was sort of the hero of the day. And yet the pressure of thinking about how it might've all gone wrong and how guilty I would've felt if Aaron had been injured or even killed was making me a basket case. And by the time Mom ' and I were in the car after work, I felt like a bundle of raw nerves.

She'd already heard most of the story from the rest of the staff, but as she drove us home, I tried to explain about the vision part and how it kind of scared me. I could tell it was making her uneasy, and she didn't really have
any answers for me. But it was pretty disturbing when she suggested that maybe I should see a counselor.

“Why?” J

“I think you need to deal with your grief about losing Dad.”

“Me?”
I thought that I was actually handling it better - o than both she and Zach combined.

“Yes, Samantha. You seem to be overspiritualizing some things. I think it's a way of compensating, but I'm worried that it might not be healthy.”

I wasn't sure what to think about that. But before I went to bed that night, as I prayed, I told God that I didn't really think I was up for this. I told Him that the idea of having these visions was too scary, that I was too young, and that I'd really appreciate it if He'd give this special gift to someone else—someone more responsible, more mature, more worthy.

That was almost a year ago. Almost a year and about six rather uneventful counseling sessions with a shrink-friend of my mom's. And so far so good. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened to me since the thing with Aaron falling off the slide. And I'm thinking, cool, I can live with that. Nothing wrong with being ordinary…normal…

But as I sit here in biology class today, running these old thoughts through my head, I can't help but notice the seat where Kayla would be sitting, if she were here that is. I try to wrap my head around the freaky idea that she is down in sunny San Diego tying the knot with some UCU grad named Colby. But it's just too weird. So I decide to pray for her.

Dear God, please bring this girl back to her senses. Show her that she needs to return home and that she needs to finish high school, and most of all show her that she needs to invite You back into her life -the sooner the better. Amen.

Kayla actually used to be a Christian. Ironically enough, she was a strong believer back when I was really struggling with my own faith during middle school. But then she got into high school and got distracted with boys. She even admitted to me not long ago that she had fallen away. Still, she's always fairly open to talk about God, and she never puts me down for being a Christian.

So I'm sitting here in this dimly lit room, trying to pay attention to the boring DNA video that Mr. Brant is playing for the class, but I'm distracted by Kayla's empty chair. Hard to miss since it's directly in front of me.

And then totally without warning, I get that exploding flash of light in my head. And instead of seeing the chain of colorful chromosomes on the screen, I see Kayla hunched down in what seems to be the backseat of a car, and she's crying. That's all. Then it's over, and all I see is that crooked chain of chromosomes again—as if only a second or two has passed.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Was that real? Was it from God? And if so, what am I supposed to do about it? What
can
I do? I mean, all I saw was the image of Kayla in a car, crying. What does that mean?

But now the lights are turned on fully, and Mr. Brant is telling us to get out our notebooks and prepare for a quick quiz about what we've just seen. And I'm thinking, really? He's going to ask me about Kayla in the backseat of a car? Like what model was the car? What color? Then I realize, no, this is about DNA. And as I prepare myself to o fail this quiz, I wonder why God would give me such a sketchy vision about Kayla and why during biology when I should be focusing on learning something instead.

As soon as class is over, I have this really strong urge to tell Olivia about the vision. Like I think maybe that will take care of it. Olivia can scratch her head, tell me I'm crazy, and then I can move on. No big deal. Only chances are, Olivia will believe the whole thing, and then she'll want me to figure it out. But how can I? Especially when I'm not even certain that it really did come from God?

I mean, there I was thinking about and praying for Kayla, and then there was this weird video playing. Isn't it just possible I imagined the whole thing? But even as I say this to myself, I know that's not the case.

Still, I remember how worried Olivia seems to be about Kayla, how she's sort of obsessing over it, imagining the worst, and I just don't think it's right for me to dump on her yet. How can I tell her that I just saw Kayla and that she was miserable and crying in the backseat of a car? A
blue
car!

Just then it hits me that the interior of the car was gray, and the strip I could see outside the window was a metallic blue. I actually jot this down in my notebook. Not that it means anything exactly. But it might. Then I hurry on
to U.S. history. But as I go, I pray. I ask God to confirm if -c what I saw in biology was really from Him, and if so, I ask Him to show me what to do next.
Help me, God
, I silently plead as I push open the door to class,
I'm in over my head and I need Your direction. Amen.

M
y last class of the day is drama. I'm still not even sure why I took it, except that I needed an elective, and last August during registration Olivia talked me into it. “We'll take it together,” she told me. “It'll be fun.”

Of course, what Olivia didn't know then was that her schedule would change when she got promoted to advanced choir, which is only offered during seventh period. So here I am, stuck in drama without her.

Lately our class has been meeting in the auditorium, where we're slowly working our way through Shakespeare's
Hamlet.
Lucky me, I got the part of Queen Gertrude, the twisted wife of the evil king who murdered his brother, Hamlet's father. Lovely.

“Hey, Samantha,” says Kendall Zilcowski, as she slips into the seat next to mine. Besides Kayla, who is still obviously missing, Kendall is the closest thing I have to a friend in this class. And while we're not exactly close, she does manage to make me feel less alone.

“Hey, Kendall.” I smile at her. “What's up?”

“Did you hear the latest about Kayla?” she whispers as Mr. Owens walks up the stairs to the stage.

Now, I'm unsure what “the latest” actually means or
why Kendall would know it. But then, I remind myself, it did seem like Kendall and Kayla were getting to be fairly good friends, especially following the fated love triangle that drove a wedge between Emma and Kayla. Maybe Kendall does know something. “Has Kayla shown up?” I ask hopefully. “Is she okay?”

“I haven't heard that she's back home or anything like that. But I did hear that she was reported to have been seen getting on a bus Saturday afternoon.”

I frown. “Headed to San Diego?”

“I guess.”

Now Mr. Owens clears his throat, our cue that he's about to begin his introduction to today's scene. I open my script to where we left off yesterday, then turn my attention back to Kendall.

“So she left of her own free will?” I whisper and Kendall nods.

Mr. Owens begins to speak. Using his deep theatrical voice, he reminds us of where we've been so far in
Hamlet
…Denmark…the gloomy castle…the king's murder… “And today we'll pick it up in act 4, scene 5. We're at Elsinore, in a room in the castle. Prepare to enter: Queen Gertrude, Horatio, and a Gentleman. Ophelia and King Claudius, you're on deck.” He pauses to look down at where we're still sitting in the front rows of the auditorium. “I assume Kayla Henderson is absent again today?”

“She is,” answers Kendall.

“Then Kendall, you will continue taking her place as Ophelia please.”

“Get in your places, players.” He claps his hands in that way that makes everyone think he's gay, although we know he has a wife.

We start scuttling up the stairs to the stage. I should o be thankful that we don't have to memorize these lines of Especially since the archaic words feel more like Greek than English to me. I mean, I go over them, and I do think about the story, but sometimes I just don't get it. Like today. Even though I've read through this particular line of Queen Gertrude's a couple of times and it sort of made sense, I still feel lost. It's part of a conversation with Ophelia. And suddenly it's my turn to deliver it.

“To my sick soul,” I begin to read in my best dramatic voice, since I don't want Mr. Owens to make me do it again. “As sin's true nature is, each toy seems prologue to some great amiss: So full of artless jealousy is guilt, it spills itself in fearing to be spilt.”

The next few minutes is an exchange between Queen Gertrude and Ophelia, with Kendall doing a pretty good job of playing the poor, fated Ophelia, who will later drown herself. Fortunately, these shorter lines seem to make a bit more sense, and it's obvious that Gertrude is uncomfortable, probably feeling guilty. And it's also clear that Ophelia is starting to act a little nutty, probably because of all she's been through. Then King Claudius, played by Simon Valencia, begins his lines, talking to Ophelia, and I'm just standing by, still on stage, just watching and listening.

But Ophelia's lines just keep getting crazier and erazier, and as hard as I try to make sense of them, I just don't get it. Then just as Ophelia is delivering this little poem piece, kind of singing it, I suddenly experience that flash of light again, just like in biology. But instead of seeing Kendall, with her pixielike face and her short dark hair, I suddenly see Kayla's smooth features, her shoulder-length straight blond hair, and her big brown eyes brimming with tears. And instead of Kendall's voice, I hear Kayla's, and it's full of emotion. I blink hard and force myself to listen carefully.

“Young men will do't, if they come to't; by cock, they are to blame. Quoth she, Before you tumbled me, you promis'd me to wed.' He answers, 'So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed.'”

Then just as quickly as it happened, all returns to normal. Kendall is still here and Kayla is nowhere to be seen. But it's like I can still feel Kayla's presence up here on the stage, almost as if she's looking over my shoulder. Very weird. Fortunately, my lines are pretty minimal after that. And before long we're done and class ends, and without even talking to Kendall, I hurry out of the auditorium, heading straight for the bathroom.

I feel kind of sick inside as I actually throw some cold water onto my face and take in a long, deep breath. Then I go into a stall for privacy, closing the door and leaning against it. I take out my script again, going back to the place where I saw Kayla's face when Kendall was reading

Ophelia's lines. I reread the words slowly, pausing at the part
that says, “You tumbled me, you promis'd me to wed. So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed.” That was part of the same section where I felt that saw and heard Kayla reading. But what does it mean? Once again, I pray. I ask God if He's actually trying to o show me something. I mean, it really does seem like it. I guess I'm just worried that I'm not fully getting it. It just doesn't seem totally clear. So I pull out my Bible and just open it. I do this sometimes when I'm not sure about something and don't know where to look for guidance. And while I'm not saying it's the best way to get answers, I'm often surprised at how easily God can talk to me through His Word—even randomly like this. And this is what I read today.