Bridge to a Distant Star (34 page)

Upon reaching the sand, both slipped off sandals, allowing their feet to luxuriate in its cool softness.

They strolled along, Michal next to the shore, her feet almost constantly in the soothing water. Sarah beside her, an exuberant wave sometimes bathing her feet too. Every once in a while one of them would lean over to inspect a shell. If deemed worthy, it was shown to the other, shoved into a pocket for safekeeping. The next week—long after Michal had removed the collected shells—she would reach into that pocket to search for a tissue. And find grains of sand there.

Sarah spoke into the sound of the waves hitting the shore, her voice matching the calm rhythm of the sea. “I need to speak with you about something, Michal.”

Instantly attuned to her aunt’s serious tone, Michal stopped, cringing inwardly. “Did I do something—”

“No, no. This is about me. Something that I’ve never told you.” Sarah took a deep breath. “Something you deserve to hear.” She began walking slowly again, and Michal matched her pace.

“Your questions have … have been hard because they’ve struck so close to my heart.” Sarah glanced over at Michal, a surprising shyness about her now. “I’d just finished a master’s degree when I fell in love. Oh, my. I was so in love.”

Michal looked at her with wonder. “Who was he?”

“Oh, his name doesn’t matter, since it was a stuffy family name, one he was really kind of embarrassed by. But from the moment I first met him, I called him CK.” Sarah smiled, wistfully.

“Was he handsome?”

“Oh, my, was he ever. Tall, head full of dark curls, one of those jaws like Kirk Douglas.” To Michal’s blank look, she said, “Of course you wouldn’t know him. Well … CK was incredibly handsome. Take my word for it, okay?”

“What was he like? Did he make you laugh?”

Sarah dug a big toe into a pile of shells, drawing out the story. Clearly enjoying Michal’s intense interest. “He was … he was a man of such integrity, an attorney. A prosecutor. I’d go to court just to watch him.” She sought Michal’s eyes then, for hers were lit with a glow—the glow of love that was still there, after all these years, Michal realized. “And yes, how he could made me laugh. Like the time he tripped and fell into a mud puddle. And then just sat there, splashing like a child, saying, ‘Might as well enjoy it since I’m already a drenched mess.’” Sarah laughed out loud at the memory, and Michal laughed right along with her.

“But I fell in love with his heart, Michal—his heart for God, for people. For his son.”

“His son?”

“CK’s first wife died in childbirth. When I first met them his son was ten, and then later, after we married … well, I’ll never forget the first time he called me mom …” Sarah’s voice broke, and she stopped.

“What happened, Aunt Sarah? Did something happen to them?” Unconsciously, Michal’s entire body tensed as they stopped walking, and she held her breath.

Sarah cupped a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the setting sun reflecting off the ocean. “You know how it hurts to look at a sunset like this? And yet at the same time … you want to look because it’s so glorious? And so you do, even though it’s painful?” Sarah turned her gaze to Michal, and Michal saw that her eyes were filling with glistening tears. Tears also reflecting the brilliant glow off the water. “That’s how my memories are, Michal. They’re glorious and painful in the exact same moment.” She swallowed, and Michal saw tears run down her freckled cheeks.

“We’d only been married six months—six wonderfully happy months—when CK got cancer. And in three months … he was gone. I was convinced it was all my fault. Because I hadn’t obeyed God and gone to Ethiopia, like your grandmother and grandfather said I should have. See … I was planning to go when I met CK. Even had my plane ticket. And then … everything changed. He had an established career. And a young boy—a boy who I couldn’t even think of sending to boarding school. I had no right to inflict that on him.

“So when CK died … I thought it was God punishing me, taking him like that, and so I … I just left CK’s son, thinking—irrationally—that was best for him. I wanted to get away from him, before he suffered for my sin too. And so I went to Ethiopia.” She hastily wiped the tears away. Closed her eyes and then took a deep breath before looking into Michal’s eyes.

“I’d never planned to tell you any of this, Michal. I guess mostly because of my foolish pride, maybe. I don’t know. But from your questions these last couple of days, I realized how much you needed to hear my story. Because I went to Ethiopia out of guilt, Michal. Guilt and hurt and despair. And cowardice—I can’t leave out that. Going for those reasons was—” she shook her head vehemently, “—it was all wrong. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t sleep or eat or do anything—not even love those dear people. Because I hated myself. All I knew was anger in those miserable days. And you know who else I was angry at?”

Michal shook her head.

“God. Oh, yes, I was angry at him, all right. For ruining my life. How I blamed him for everything that had gone so horribly wrong.”

Michal sucked in her breath. She’d never heard anyone hint at such a sin, let alone say it out loud. Unconsciously, she took a step backward. And immediately, Sarah took a step toward her.

“So I tried to run from life again, Michal. Came back home, to the States. Where a godly counselor finally helped me find forgiveness and grace from a loving God. A God who slowly put my crumbled heart back together. And I made a vow, Michal, a vow that I keep to this day.” Sarah made a fist, holding it out in front of her. “If I couldn’t be in Ethiopia—because I eventually came to the conviction that I never was called to live there—then I would do all I could to send support to my family.”

Sarah turned away then, appearing exhausted as her shoulders slumped beneath the weight of her story. Suddenly she sat down on the wet sand, motioning for Michal to join her. They both simply sat there, staring out at the waves rolling in, listening to the calming effects of the surf.

Michal ventured into the silence, offering softly, “Daddy says you send … a lot. I can tell he’s pleased about that.”

Sarah drew her finger across the sand. Writing MICHAL there. Michal began doodling too, beginning with STE.

“Michal, we all bear the scars of pain. Some are more obvious than others, but none of us gets through life without collecting a fair share. Your folks included.” Michal stopped writing, her finger poised. “Those things they said to you—the reasons they wanted you to stop crying about going to boarding school? They were repeating the very same lines they’d heard when they were children.

“You see, hearing you cry brought back memories of their own pain. And then they just hurt all the more, knowing your suffering personally like they did. And the more you fought going, the greater their hurt. So in desperation, they threw out whatever would hopefully just make the pain stop. They never meant to be cruel, Michal. Never.” Sarah reached over to put her hand on top of Michal’s, where she tenderly rubbed the soft skin.

“Don’t make a decision about returning to Ethiopia out of guilt or expectation, Michal. And don’t run there in an attempt to escape from life—like I did. If you seek God, he will reveal his call for you. In his time. In his way.” She reached up to smooth a stray curl from Michal’s cheek. Tucked it behind an ear. “Can you trust in that?”

“Uh-huh. I think so.”

“We’d best get back. Going to be dark soon.”

Reluctantly, Michal followed Sarah’s lead as they headed back toward the car. “A friend of mine used to say that a walk on the beach is never long enough,” Sarah mused. “She was so right.”

Typical of holidays, the remainder of the week flew by all too quickly for Michal. She and Sarah enjoyed doing whatever struck their fancy on any particular day. They spent more time on their boogie boards, but they also shopped at quaint little stores along the beach. They visited Sanibel Island to look for better shells, and browsed the farmer’s market. And they spent a couple afternoons simply going on road trips—Sarah allowing Michal to drive the Corvette.

Though Sarah had gently probed about the young men in her life, Michal evaded the topic. Just the slightest mental drifting back to school instantly brought the images of Allistair and Stephen clearly to mind, making her stomach tighten in a knot. She felt near panic when she tried to understand her feelings toward either of the two, and any memories of the kiss produced a shiver that traveled down her spine.

They were enjoying a leisurely dinner in the Florida room the evening before Michal’s departure when Michal felt a sense of urgency, realizing this was her last chance to broach the subject of men.

“Aunt Sarah?”

It was that tone again, and Sarah recognized it immediately. The veiled attempt to sound casual, as if discussing something of no real significance. Michal had used it to introduce professors’ comments in class, her relationships with Beth and her siblings, and their continuing discussions about Ethiopia. Sarah smiled inwardly. “Hmm?”

They’d finished the chocolate ice cream that evening, a fitting finale for the week. Michal dawdled over the small amount left in her bowl, making it last as long as she could. “I wanted … um, to ask you about something. It’s just something silly.” Sarah resisted the temptation to jump into the silence. “There’s these two guys.”

“Uh-huh?”

“One’s name is Stephen.”

“I think you mentioned him earlier this week.”

“He’s really serious about his studies. Like I am.”

“That’s good. Shows responsibility and maturity.”

“Yeah. But there’s also this other guy …”

“Ha. There’s the rub.”

“His name’s Allistair.”

“Quite a name to live up to.”

“He’s a senior. And student body president.”

“Definitely interesting.”

Michal smiled. “And he … he’s not at all what I thought he’d be like, Aunt Sarah. He confuses me. For example. Stephen has one of those serious-looking computer watches. But Allistair wears one with Mickey Mouse on it.”

“Oh? Well, I kind of like the sound of this guy, Michal, with that kind of sense of humor. I’m a Mickey Mouse fan myself, you know.”

Michal smiled but then immediately bit her lip, sobering. “I’m not gonna need to choose between them ’cause I just plan to stay friends with both, you know? And besides, until I figure out what God wants me to do …”

Sarah got up out of her chair, motioning for Michal to follow. “Come outside a minute. I want to show you something.”

The pungent smell of the night air assaulted them with a burst of fragrances: jacaranda, gardenia, honeysuckle. The slightly damp yet sweet and salty smell of an evening near the gulf coast of Florida. It was perfectly clear out, not a cloud in the sky. And though Sarah’s home was in a well-populated area, where the stars weren’t as clear as they might have been, they were still abundantly evident.

Sarah lovingly put an arm around Michal’s shoulders and pointed upward. “Look at all those stars. Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Curious where this object lesson was going, Michal mumbled, “Mmm, sure are.”

“There’s this fascinating phenomena called averted vision. Notice how when you try to stare directly at the more faint stars you can’t really see them? It’s like … when you try to look directly at them, they disappear.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that before.”

“Pick one of those stars. Shift your sight back ’n’ forth, looking directly at it and then away from it. What do you notice about your peripheral vision?”

“I can see it again. Just barely, but it’s definitely there. That’s weird.”

“Sometimes, Michal, discovering God’s will is like looking at a star. Instead of staring directly at him, you need to pay more attention to your peripheral vision.”

“Okay. So … explain what you mean by that.”

“There are so many evidences around you to help make decisions. Like the people in your life. Like chapel speakers. Or maybe not.” She grinned mischievously and Michal shook her head. “Others might be professors. Friends too—special girlfriends. And sometimes … sometimes it’s even those creatures from another planet entirely—males. Ha.” Michal laughed at her. “Other evidences are what you’re studying and praying about. Your gifts from the Holy Spirit. Talents and interests you have. And there are the myriad of experiences happening around you—don’t overlook those either. See, all these evidences are hovering, and they can help you know God’s will for your life.”

“Wise aunts included in the list?”

“Possibly.” Sarah winked, but was instantly serious again. “The point is, Michal, all those things in your peripheral vision, so to speak, are there to inform you too. They’re like a … like a …” She groped for the right words to portray her meaning. “Like a mine, I guess. With veins of gold. You need to seek them out … see what their value is to help you make the major decisions of life.”

“Aunt Sarah, you know something I’ve never told Mom and Dad? Something I would love to do?” Michal ventured.

“What’s that?”

“Be a teacher. I’ve always wanted to teach children, ever since I can remember.” Her eyes filled with tears, blurring the stars. “But in a regular classroom with bright posters all over the walls. The ABCs along the top of the blackboard.” She grew more animated with each addition. “The children’s desks grouped in bunches … with welcome signs on each one. Signs I made out of all colors of construction paper.”