Bridge to a Distant Star (33 page)

They nested a bit, shaking out a large blanket, anchoring its corners with towels and sandals, placing the cooler in the shade. And then they peeled off the clothes they’d worn over swimsuits, already feeling the heat of the day.

At that point, Michal took in her surroundings: the gorgeous aquamarine blue of the gulf against the bright white sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves hitting the shore mixed with the calls of the seagulls, the delighted cries of children playing in the water or making castles in the sand with bright-colored pails and shovels. She closed her eyes, concentrated on the salty smell of the breeze as it caressed her. “Oh, Aunt Sarah. Do you think heaven has beaches?”

“I do. But even prettier than this.”

“I can’t imagine anything prettier than this.”

“Okay, a reality check: Did you take a look at the size of those waves, Michal?”

She grinned, noting the lift in her aunt’s voice. “Looks like fun to me.”

“Ready to boogie?”

They both laughed, excited by the thrill of a new challenge. “I’m ready if you are.”

Carrying the boards to the surf, they watched as others nearby demonstrated how to ride the waves. Or attempt to—they watched boards shoot one way and riders another. Sputtering a bit afterward, the beachgoers tried to shake hitchhiking sand out of bathing suits, push back tangled hair, and generally collect their wits. But Sarah and Michal readily agreed that it looked like great fun.

The boogie boards came with ropes that attached at the wrist, so when the rider got separated from the board it was readily accessible. After fastening the Velcro, the two adventurers set off. They soon encountered the first challenge of this new sport: getting past the powerful breakers that continually knocked them back toward the beach.

For the next hour, Sarah and Michal were thrown from their boards, pounded by waves of water, and completely upended in the surf. Yet in spite of all that, they laughed hysterically at how much fun boogie boarding was. After examining various scrapes and bruises (declaring none serious enough to keep them from going again), they realized they were also ravenous. Back on the beach, they set out a veritable feast, thanks to Sarah’s generous provision. And once satiated, they stretched out on the blanket, indulging feelings of laziness.

“It’s what you do at the beach,” Aunt Sarah assured Michal. “After what we boogie boarding broads just did, we’ve earned it.”

Michal giggled in response as they lay on their backs; the sea breeze soothed tired bodies. Nonchalantly, Michal broached the subject weighing on her mind, “So we had this chapel speaker last week. A missionary.”

“Bet he was exciting and original.”

Michal muffled a laugh by putting her hand over her mouth, feeling guilty, as if her dad or mom might be listening. She raised her eyebrows at her aunt.

“Don’t give me that wide-eyed look. I’ve heard more than my share of ’em. How some of them could make living in a foreign country sound so boring is beyond me, when it’s anything but that—as you well know. But all that’s neither here nor there. What was it this chapel speaker said, anyway?”

“Well, one of the things was I should only date guys who are also definitely going to the mission field.”

“Have you settled that call in your mind and heart?”

“Oh, sure.” After squirming under her aunt’s unwavering gaze, however, she admitted, “At least, well, I’m pretty sure I have. Settled that.”

Sarah waited a moment, still staring at Michal, unblinking. “Doesn’t sound very convincing to me. Why don’t you wait until your senior year to make a major decision like that?”

“But I’ve just always … since I was a kid. Known. You know how it is. Didn’t you?” And then, realizing her unintentional blunder, began stammering. “I mean … oh, I’m sorry, Aunt Sarah.”

“No need to apologize. Long story … but it wasn’t meant to be.” She waved a hand in the air, casually dismissing the discussion of herself. “But let’s get back to you. Rather than a distinct call from the Lord, sounds more like a case of osmosis.”

“Osmosis? How does it—?”

“Relate to being an MK? Well, I’m under the belief that the call to the mission field shouldn’t be simply absorbed from your parents. I just think that kind of huge life decision should be made independent of them.” She shook her head as though clearing her thoughts. “But let’s get back to what the missionary said. How did you feel about it?”

Sounds of laughter reached their ears. A family out in the waves, jumping together when the water surged toward them. Sarah and Michal were distracted a few moments, vicariously enjoying the familial joy before them. Michal found it hard to switch from the scene of carefree laughter to the subject of constrictions placed on her by the chapel speaker. “Well, I guess I agree. I should, I think—or I need to. A friend of mine, Stephen—he’s really mature and very spiritual, Aunt Sarah; you’d like him—he thought Reverend Coleman was inspiring.”

“Good for him. But what did you think?”

The pleasing scene before her disappeared, and suddenly she was transported back to her home in Ethiopia, the unadorned little kitchen with plain wooden table and chairs. She stood at the sink wiping dishes while her mother washed. And she heard her mother’s words, repeating them as her own. “Daddy and Mom talked about their calling first. How that had to be absolute first priority in their lives. Only when they’d settled that with each other, did they agree it was okay to date.

“Mom said she knew it would be a sin to allow herself to fall in love with someone who—” Michal looked over at Sarah then, expecting tacit agreement. But she was so startled by the haunting look on her aunt’s face that she lost track of what she was saying. Michal took in the grimness about Sarah’s usually broad, smiling mouth. The lack of life in those ever-animated eyes. All her features seemed to have … fallen. For the first time, Sarah looked old. “Aunt Sarah? What is it?” Michal reached over to touch her. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, Sarah turned her head to look out toward the ocean again. “Let’s just say I think you should be more concerned about developing friendships with young men who are committed to seeking God’s will for their lives—whatever that may be.”

Allistair’s words echoed in her mind, nearly exact duplicates of her aunt’s.
I think what’s important is that I’m seeking his will for my life,
he’d said. Momentarily, Michal was back at school, sitting on the bench with Allistair. And she felt compelled to ask another question, one that—since that night—had never been far from her conscious thoughts. “Aunt Sarah, do you think it’s more spiritual to ask God to send me to the mission field? Isn’t being a foreign missionary the highest calling there is?”

Sarah was quiet for so long Michal thought she hadn’t heard, and was about to repeat her question when her aunt sighed, as though letting go of a great weight. Michal watched her profile—the narrowing of her eyes, the continued downward turn of her mouth. She absentmindedly ran a hand through her still-wet hair. “You’ll have to find that answer on your own, dear girl.” And then she turned toward Michal with a mischievous smile that caught her off guard. “We’ve been entirely too serious for far too long. I say we hit the boards again. You game?”

Michal grinned. “Let’s do it.”

For the remainder of the afternoon, they focused on the exhilaration of catching a wave at the exact right moment—just before it peaked—to experience the longest ride possible. Balancing themselves on their boards while the waves pulsed beneath them. Riding all the way to the shore, coasting up onto the sand, fists pumped up into the air. Celebrating success.

Eventually their energy waned, suits became itchy with freeloading sand, and the scrapes and bruises were too sore to ignore any longer. Gathering clouds brought a cool breeze. It was time to stop—for the day, at least. By mutual agreement, however, they declared the boogie boards a very wise investment, promising each other the “boogie board broads” would return another day.

They ordered pizza from a small Italian restaurant and downed it like rescued castaways. When asked about the possibility of ice cream for dessert, Michal was about to decline when Sarah added, “Before you make up your mind, you should know it’s chocolate with chocolate chips.”

Michal’s face lit up. “Oh, I can’t turn that down.” She watched Sarah scoop a generous amount into both bowls. “Beth says chocolate’s one of the main food groups.”

“Your roommate is very wise.”

“Aunt Sarah?” By Michal’s tone of voice, Sarah could tell she was wading into a more serious topic again.

“Uh-huh?” She plopped dollops of whipped cream on top.

“About the chapel speaker.”

“Yeah …”

“I’ve been thinking. He also mentioned that all missionaries should be willing to send their kids off to boarding school. And if we weren’t willing to, we weren’t putting Jesus first in our lives. I’m curious what you think about that.”

“How do
you
feel about it?”

Michal spooned a big bite of ice cream into her mouth, savoring the chocolate. She could tell that Sarah seemed to be following a pattern: allowing Michal to come to her own conclusions. She was grateful for Sarah’s approach—realizing it was challenging her—but Michal also felt the slightest frustration. She just wanted answers.

“Well,” she tried, “boarding school’s not so bad. If I needed to do it for where God’s called me …”

Sarah was ready to put another spoonful in her mouth but stopped, the spoon held in midair. She gave Michal a look full of compassion. “I’ve heard you havin’ nightmares, Michal.” She put down the spoon and took Michal’s hand between her own. “I know it wasn’t easy for you. Does it help to know it was hard for me, too?”

Michal’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Daddy never said a word … I just assumed … and I’ve never told anyone about …”

“Your dad didn’t have an easy time of it either. None of us did.” She watched as a single tear rolled down each of Michal’s cheeks. “Why haven’t you told anyone of your nightmares, Michal? That’s the only way to take away their power over you—to talk it out with someone. Know why I know that’s true?”

Michal shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“’Cause I talked with a counselor who helped me work through some difficult times in my life.” She let go of Michal’s hand and reached for her spoon, encouraging Michal to do the same. “I want you to know that I begged Michael and Hannah to bring you back to them. Or to let you come live with me here in the States if they couldn’t …” She let her voice trail off, shaking her head in exasperation.

Astonished, Michal asked, “You did? You actually asked Daddy and Mom that?”

Sarah nodded. “I had to just … let it go. Though I doubled and tripled my prayers for you.”

Michal concentrated on the bowl before her, furiously stirring the ice cream and whipped cream together. “I would’ve loved living with you.”

Sarah grinned. “Just think how much trouble we could’ve gotten into all those years.” Serious again, Sarah added, “It clearly wasn’t meant to be. And though I disagreed with your parents, please hear this—because it is the truth. Your parents love you desperately. They did what they thought was right. Which is what we all do.” She shook her head. “Hindsight wisdom is way too easy. The tormenting ‘I should haves’ can drive you crazy. So you move on. Hopefully learning something along the way.”

“So we don’t make the same mistakes over again? Like me trying to decide who I should date?”

“I know you’ll make the right decision, Michal.” Sarah idly scraped the bottom of her bowl with a finger, getting the very last puddle of melted ice cream. Michal watched with amusement. “You know, sometimes I wonder if God cares more about our process to make a decision than he does the decision itself.” She popped the finger into her mouth. “Unless you have any other deep theological topics of discussion, shall we change course and see what’s on TV tonight?”

Michal grinned. “Absolutely.”

Sarah pointed to Michal’s bowl. “Then make sure you get every remaining drop of ice cream and let’s get at it, shall we?”

The nightmare came again that evening, but it seemed to last all night long, with scenes unfolding like acts in a play. Saying good-bye. Boarding school. Administrators blaming Michal for being so miserable. The nausea flushed over her, and her eyes opened wide.

Why did I think the nightmares wouldn’t follow me here?
She allowed tears to come.
Until I settle this completely—either I’m going back to Ethiopia, or I’m not—I’m not going to have any peace in my heart. Or peace from these nightmares.

By the time she joined Sarah for breakfast, Michal had washed away any evidence of tears, greeting her with a cheery, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Michal. Sleep well?”

Michal’s only answer was to reach for her aunt, giving her a hug. Sarah had been holding a cup of hot tea, but she instantly put it down, giving Michal her full attention.

“Another nightmare?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sarah tightened her hold on Michal.

Later, after settling in at the beach, Michal and Sarah were only slightly disappointed to find the waves quite tame. So after lunch, they happily settled in the sand to read, followed by naps. The ease of that afternoon reminded Michal of floating on a raft on a gentle creek. They returned home to shower and change for dinner at a seafood restaurant and a walk on the beach at dusk.