Gladioli in August (6 page)

****

The parcel sat by Jael's feet all through breakfast, but she resisted the desire to open it there and then. It was from Kyle, and she knew her brother well enough to know his idea of care packages included things she didn't want the men at the table with her seeing.

Micah hadn't appeared at all. She hoped he was all right. He'd freaked out on her last night. One minute he'd been playing the organ and they were getting on incredibly well, the next he was apologizing for something he hadn't done and didn't seem to know where he was. Then, when she finally got a response from him, he'd left.

She'd only seen something like that once in her career, and they'd called it a flashback or post traumatic reaction. What could have caused it? Maybe they could talk during the flight today. Although if Micah was sick, he wasn't going anywhere.

Once the meal and Bible study were over, she took her parcel into the office. She reached for the clipboard as the floor shuddered beneath her feet. Another tremor. Over the last week, they'd gotten stronger but were more annoying than anything else. They lasted only a few seconds and were never big enough to cause any damage—aside from the odd broken glass which slid off a table.

No one seemed bothered.

They were used to living in a seismically active area. It scared her half to death every single time, but if no one else was panicking, she figured she didn't need to either.

Jael turned her attention to the parcel. With each item carefully wrapped individually, it contained the usual assortment of teabags, coffee, crisps, soap, deodorant, and the chemist stuff she'd be unable to get out here. A note from Holly assured her that Kyle hadn't bought those.

Right at the bottom was a packet of tent pegs. The note read ‘for errant men who can't behave themselves. Use wisely.' She laughed as she pulled out the last package. A pretty crystal vase containing fabric gladioli that looked to be in water, but they were gelled into the base. She set the vase on the desk and turned it around.

Micah came into the room. He looked dreadful. He had no color and the huge bags under his eyes indicated little or no sleep. “Morning,” he croaked.

“Hi. You skipped breakfast. Are you sick?”

“Just not hungry.” He reached for the clipboard. “Look, about last night.”

“You don't need to say anything if you don't want to.” Pushing her own desire to know to one side, she wasn't going to be nosy and stick her oar in where it wasn't wanted or needed.

“I ought to…” He grabbed the desk as the room swayed.

Steve came in. “Here we go again. This is getting boring now. But if it runs its usual course, it'll be over by the end of the week.”

The moment gone, Jael glanced at Micah. “Do you want to go and get a flask of coffee from the kitchen to take with us? Maybe ask if we can have one of the huge breakfast ones with a couple of cups to keep us both going today.”

He frowned, but nodded and headed from the room.

Surprised he'd agreed without arguing, Jael shoved the tent pegs into her pack, along with a first aid kit, spare scrubs, scissors, and rope. Then, she sat with the clipboard and ran her finger down the flight order. She changed a few around.

Steve laughed. “They won't stay like it.”

“You'd be surprised.”

Micah came in with the flask. “Is that the schedule?”

“Yes. I made a couple of changes.” Jael ignored Steve's smirk.

“That's fine.” Micah took the box, balancing the flask on top. “Let's go and get this loaded.”

Jael grinned at Steve. “Told you,” she mouthed as she followed Micah from the building onto the landing strip.

Micah said nothing as he loaded the plane and did his usual walk around.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked.

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No.”

“I didn't think so.” She kept her tone non-judgmental and soft. “You haven't eaten either, so you need to drink something. Please.”

“Are you going to ground me if I don't?” he asked roughly.

Jael drew in a deep breath. The idea had crossed her mind, yes, but she couldn't come right out and say as much. “Only if I have to. I just don't fancy crashing out there today.”

“All right.” He grabbed one of the cups and filled it to the brim with steaming coffee.

As he drank, Jael read the list of calls to him, pausing as his stomach growled.

Micah pressed a hand to his middle. “Sorry. The coffee reminded my stomach I'd skipped breakfast.”

“I'll go see if I can find you something to eat.”

He shook his head. “They won't fix anything now breakfast is finished. It was hard enough getting the flask of coffee.”

She winked. “It doesn't hurt to check. Be right back.” She trotted across the compound to the kitchen just as they were clearing up. “Philippe, I don't suppose you have any bacon left do you?”

“Not still hungry?” he asked. His chef's hat was at its usual jaunty angle, his apron already dirty.

“My brother wrote me this morning, reminding me to eat lunch rather than skip it. So I figured I'd take something with me to keep him happy.”

“All the bacon is gone, but I can do you some cheese rolls if you can wait a minute.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” She leaned against the door frame. All perfectly true. Kyle was always nagging her to eat lunch, and she had received a letter in with the parcel.

Philippe handed her over a bag. “Plenty of rolls and some juice and fruit as well.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” She headed back to the plane and found Micah at the controls. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He pulled out one of the rolls and started eating slowly.

Jael grabbed the clipboard, checking the list against the supplies she knew she had. “Are you really OK?”

“I'm not sick if that's what you mean,” he snapped.

“I didn't mean that. I meant, you're not eating, not sleeping, and last night…”

“It's a long story and right now we're running late.” He finished the roll. “So I suggest we get on.”

She took the hint and pulled on the straps. “Then let's go. Time's a'wasting.”

But even stealing his line didn't raise a smile. Something was very wrong. But what?

****

Micah yawned as he took off after the sixth visit of the day. Despite the coffee Jael kept insisting he drink, he was tired. The frequent tremors were also starting to get on his nerves a little, but hopefully whatever plates were moving would either do it properly or just give up and go back to sleep. Now that he knew they were earthquake related, he could relax a little—assuming the earth stopped moving long enough for him to do so. “I was thinking.”

“Oh?” Jael shifted in her seat to look at him.

“Maybe you should help with the schedule tomorrow.”

She raised one eyebrow in that incredibly cute way she had. Despite his best intentions, she'd grown on him in a way he hadn't expected. “Oh?”

“I mean, your way of prioritizing is actually pretty good and saves both time and fuel.”

“Is that a roundabout way of saying I'm right and you're wrong?”

He pushed his glasses up. “Oh, I wouldn't go that far.”

Her nose scrunched in that delicious way as she smirked. “Of course not.” She reached into the bag and pulled out one of the apples. “So, did you want to talk?”

He shifted on his seat, looking down at the controls. “About what?”

“Last night and what happened in the chapel.”

A voice echoed in his head as he banked the plane, aiming for a clear, long stretch of roadway in the middle of nowhere. The last place he wanted to be right now was in the air. He brought the plane down too hard and too fast, throwing both himself and Jael against the restraints as the plane finally halted. The plane continued to rock—either due to his landing or a tremor—he wasn't sure which.

Jael grunted with the impact and slowly rubbed her chest.

“Sorry. Are you OK?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

He shrugged. OK was a relative term that hadn't applied to him in years.

She unfastened the straps and turned in her seat, folding one leg underneath her. “Talk to me.”

“I wouldn't know where to start,” he whispered.

“Anywhere. The beginning is a pretty good place. Or last night, or wherever you were just before you almost killed us.”

“I didn't almost kill us,” he snapped. “It was a rough landing that's all.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And as to where I was? Just some place my father…”

He turned to the window looking out at the trees. “I wasn't like the other kids. I was always in trouble at school and at home. Everything I did was wrong or not good enough.”

“We all have days like that,” Jael said. “None of us are perfect. At least, not this side of heaven.” Her voice was soft and gentle, but not condescending.

Yet. That would come when she knew how bad he really was.

Micah didn't look at her. “Did you get beaten because you didn't wash up properly when you were six?” he asked. “Or because you played one wrong note in one of Rachmaninoff's concertos? Or because your piano practicing woke up your father? I don't think there was a day that passed without doors slamming or yelling. Every day I was punished for something or other, even when I did nothing wrong.” He closed his eyes, silence filling the plane. “Love is…”

“Not that,” she said gently.

“Spare the rod and spoil the child,” he muttered. “Children obey your parents in everything.”

“Not by beating them into submission.” Her hand touched his arm gently. “Look at me.”

Slowly he turned in his seat to face her. His eyes burned and his whole body shook as the all-too-familiar rage consumed him.

“Micah, I can't even begin to fathom what that was like, but I do know one thing.” She took his hand, her fingers cool against his skin. “You survived.”

“I shouldn't have,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“He told me often enough I shouldn't even have been born. And I still see his face now. In my dreams, in the darkness, coming for me.”

“Because you haven't forgiven him.”

Micah ripped his hand from hers. “What?” he exploded. “Why should I? How can I? After what he did?”

“Because it's the right thing to do,” she said. “We have to forgive as God forgives us. Because otherwise you can't move on. He still has this power over you because you can't forgive and let go. Yes, your father hurt you and he was wrong to do so. Is he still alive?”

He nodded.

“Is he a Christian?”

Micah snorted.

“Then pray for his salvation. Jesus said we should pray for our enemies, didn't He? We're all sinners, Micah. Just because we perceive some sins as greater than others, doesn't mean all sins aren't equal in God's eyes. God loves you.”

Micah stiffened in his seat as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

She reached into the side of the seat and pulled out the Bible he kept there. “Hebrews 12 says, ‘You have not come to a mountain that can be touched and that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom, and storm; to a trumpet blast or to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them, because they could not bear what was commanded: ‘If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned to death.' The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, ‘I am trembling with fear.' Here, you read the next bit.”

He took the Bible and cleared his throat. “Where to?”

“Verse twenty-four.”

“But you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the Judge of all, to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.'” He shifted, the words searing deep inside him.

“Your earthly father may have failed you, but your Heavenly Father loves you with a jealous love. He'll do anything for you to protect you.”

“He died for me,” Micah whispered, the tears he refused to let fall burning his eyes.

“And for me. And for—”

“Dad,” he whispered. “He always told me his father beat him and it never did him any harm.” He paused. “But it did, didn't it? The sins of the father to the fourth generation.”

“But it can end here,” she said softly. “Forgive him.”

“That's a big request.”

Jael took a deep breath. “My brother and sister-in-law had a lot of forgiving to do. Holly was the first and last victim of a serial rapist and murderer. She was lucky. He only beat her. Jayne, Kyle's first girlfriend was his second victim, the first woman the guy actually killed. They found peace only by forgiving the bloke.” She paused. “Kyle saved Holly the second time—the bloke knew she could name him and came back for her.”

Gripping his hands again, she began to pray for him, his father, and that he might find peace from the dreams and memories that tormented him.

For his part, Micah stumbled over the words as he asked for forgiveness for his own actions and finally forgave his father. He knew he'd have to do this on a daily, hourly, maybe even a minute-by-minute basis for a long time, but God could work miracles on even the hardest souls, right?

He looked up. His cheeks were wet, his glasses misted and stained with tears.

“Here.” Jael handed him a tissue.

“Thanks.” He pulled his glasses off and wiped his eyes before cleaning the lenses. Another tremor rocked the plane.

Jael frowned. “That's what, the third or fourth today?”