Plan (3 page)

The air was warm and a restless wind was blowing Rachel's hair into her eyes. April in Alabama was as unpredictable as a wild animal. In spite of the muggy weather, she shook off a shiver and quickened her steps
across the lawn. The Center's sign creaked in the
breeze, reminding her of a ghost town in a western.

“Hey! What are you grinning at?” Susan called from the doorway.

“Nothing.”

“Well that's a pretty big grin to be nothing. You're not thinking about Kyle, are you?”

“Nope,” she answered honestly. “He was the furthest thing from my mind until you mentioned him.”

“That's progress! Maybe there is hope for you yet.”

“Maybe so. I've got a shocker for you,” Rachel said with a grin. “You'll never believe it, not in a million billion years.”

“Well, don't keep me in suspense,” Susan said, hands on hips. “Spit it out!”

Rachel just smiled for a few minutes until Susan looked fit to explode. “I, Rachel Grant, had a. . .date.” She watched as Susan's eyes popped open and her jaw dropped to the step. “Yes, you heard it right. I had a date with an eligible male last night whose first name was not Kyle.”

Susan ran down the stairs squealing and shaking her until she was almost deaf. “When? Who? What?”

“Whoa, slow down. This isn't the Spanish Inqui-sition.” Rachel chuckled. “When? Last night. Who? Dr. Harris. What? A cappuccino, a lecture, and dinner.”

“I can't believe it.” Susan was still squealing and several passersby stared. “Let's go inside where we're not so obvious.” Susan yanked her toward the stairs.

“
We?
What do you mean
we?
You're the one who's causing the scene.”

Rachel was forced under threat of torture to reveal every tiny detail of the evening. The questioning went on so long that she was late for class. Rushing down the hall, she went right into the lesson without even a glance out the window, so she jumped as a crack of thunder rattled the walls. Peeking out the blinds, she was surprised to find a massive, dark cloud had completely blotted out the sun. The wind howled around the building and lightning popped. Rachel's heart began to beat rapidly, but she turned back to her students and tried to resume the lesson. In a few moments, it became apparent that class was over when the power flickered and the room went dark. There was a general cry from the students.

“It's okay, everybody. It's just the storm. Lightning probably hit the transformer or something. Hold on just a minute.” Rachel dug in her “portable office” and found a flashlight. Her students sighed in relief when she flipped it on. “Just to be sure, let's go downstairs to the basement until the storm passes.”

There was a general murmur of gibberish as the women reverted to their native tongues. Rachel looked back to make sure they were all behind her. They looked and sounded like a gaggle of geese waddling down the hall. She started to giggle, but it ended up almost a sob. Rachel wasn't sure how she was going to get them all down the dark staircase. Just then, Susan came out with a handful of candles, some matches, and another flashlight. In moments, the hallway looked like a festival of lights. The women inched downstairs and made their way into a room at the back of the building. There were no windows because one wall was underground and the other was an interior wall.

Susan had just closed the door behind the last student when a hush fell. No more howling or cracks of thunder, just an eerie silence. Rachel's instinct told her what she didn't want to know.

“Everybody. Blow out your candles and get against the wall.” The women looked frightened, but did as she asked. Rachel looked around for something, anything, to cover their heads with. A mattress that had just been donated to the Center was standing in the corner. “Susan, help me.” Together they pulled the mattress over to the women. Rachel and Susan crawled under the crude tent at each end; at the same instant the fury of the storm resumed. The wind roared like a lion and the build-ing
began to shake. Cries were heard over the sound of tear
ing wood and breaking glass. It lasted only a couple of minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.

The howling subsided, leaving only the rain behind. Crawling out from under the mattress, Rachel turned on her flashlight and began to explore. The basement still seemed intact. Susan remained with the women while Rachel went upstairs. She was not prepared for the sight that waited at the top of the stairs. Where her room once had been, a giant oak tree now resided. Rain was flowing steadily in at every corner. She just stood there for several minutes, staring. It must be an illusion. She reached out and touched a limb. It was very real.

After several stunned moments, Rachel made her way back down the now slippery staircase. The women were huddled near the mattress.

“Is it all clear?” Susan asked.

“You could say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You'll just have to see for yourself. We need to get upstairs, but be careful because the steps are slick.” Rachel went first, carrying the flashlight. The other women followed with Susan bringing up the rear. Susan looked at the damage, but nothing came out of her mouth. She was quiet so long that Rachel was beginning to get worried.

“It'll be alright, Susan.”

She shook her head. “Of course. Everything will be alright.” She sounded like a zombie. She walked around, mumbling, the rain soaking her clothes.

“Come in here, Susan. You're soaked.” She obeyed like a child. Rachel had to tell her to take a towel from the storage room and dry off as much of her hair and face as she could. Her students moved like one massive body, arms hooked together, eyes wide with fright.

It was almost thirty minutes before rescue workers made their way into the building. There were trees and power lines down in every direction. Through a policeman, Rachel learned that the university had been spared. There had been sightings of a funnel cloud, but so far this block was the only one with severe damage. The rescue workers took Susan to the hospital. They said she was suffering from shock. Rachel stayed behind until all the women had been checked and released. Then she arranged for a volunteer with a van to take the women home. When everyone was gone, she stood staring at the building from the outside. The oak tree was resting in her classroom. How was she going to teach her students?

“Miss, do you need a ride home?”

“Huh?” Rachel looked to see a man from the power company standing beside her.

“Do you need a ride home? You're soaked to the skin.” He pulled a blanket around her shoulders.

“I'm not sure.”

“I'll take her home.” Rachel felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to find Dr. Harris. “Come on, Rachel. You took care of everybody else. Now it's time to take care of you.” He pulled the blanket tighter and wrapped his arm around her to keep it in place. Then he led her through the maze of debris and fallen trees to his car.

Her apartment was just as she had left it. A few limbs scattered across the lawn was the only sign of a disturbance. Dr. Harris followed her inside, and she didn't argue.

He disappeared into the back while she stood in the middle of the floor, dripping. She heard the sound of water running and then he returned.

“You need to get out of those wet clothes. I took the liberty of starting a hot bath. I put some of the aroma-therapy salts in. Why don't you get some dry clothes from your closet while the tub is filling up?”

She went to her bedroom still holding the wet blanket and finally had to drop it so she could get out some clean clothes. Then she went back into the living room, clutching the clothing. He took them out of her hands and carried them to the bathroom for her. She followed like a puppy.

“Randy? How am I going to teach my students?”

“I don't know, Rachel,” he said, shaking his head, “but we'll think of something. Go ahead and take your bath. I'll be in the kitchen.”

It was oddly comforting to Rachel to know that someone else was here. She sank into the hot, scented water with a sigh. It wasn't until feeling began returning to her hands and feet that she realized how cold she had really
been. She stayed in the tub until the water lost its
warmth and then she quickly dressed. She found Randy in the kitchen, cooking.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Cooking. What does it look like?” he replied.

“That's what I thought. Why?”

“You sure do ask a lot of questions. Why don't you just sit down and enjoy it?”

“Okay,” Rachel said with a puzzled look on her face. Taking a seat at the breakfast nook, she watched him neatly fold an omelet. “I've never been able to do that.”

“It's all in the wrist. I'll show you sometime.” He slid it onto a plate and then cut it in half, sliding the second half onto another plate. “I hope you don't mind sharing. You're a little short on ingredients,” he said, motioning toward the almost empty cabinet.

“I haven't been to the grocery store yet.”

“So I see.”

They ate dinner in comfortable silence, and he stayed long enough to clean up the dishes. “If you need anything, just call me. I left my home number on the fridge. Okay?” She nodded her head in agreement.

“See you tomorrow?” she said. It was more a question than a statement.

“Yeah,” he replied and then disappeared behind the door.

She locked the door behind him, and a sudden weariness flooded her body. She turned off the lights and stumbled to the bed, exhaustion claiming her before her head hit the pillow.

The telephone rang early the next morning, waking Rachel from a sound sleep. She reached for the alarm, and realizing her mistake, grabbed the receiver. She heard, more than felt, her Bible fall off the nightstand. “Hello?” she whispered.

“Rachel? Are you all right?”

“Mama?” Rachel sat up quickly—too quickly. She
sank back against the pillows.

“Of course, it's me. Are you all right?” Anxiety was evident in the way she talked through her teeth. When her mother was anxious, she often appeared angry. It was something Rachel had come to recognize.

“I'm fine.”

“You sound horrible,” Edna Grant replied. As usual, her words of concern sounded more like an insult.

“Of course, I sound horrible. You woke me out of a sound sleep. Do you have any idea what time it is?” Rachel replied. Once again her mother had her all defensive, and all she had done was express concern. What was it with the two of them?

“It's a quarter past six. You're usually up and getting ready for class by now.”

Feeling guilty for her outburst, Rachel tried again. “I know, I just got to bed late, that's all.”

“That's why I'm calling. I heard about the community center. They said there were no injuries, but I wanted to call and make sure. I tried your apartment several times last night, but there was no answer. I was beginning to get worried.”

“I'm fine. It just took a while to get all the students home and for the power company to clean up the power lines.” The scene replayed through her mind like a movie. She could almost see the tree resting on her classroom table. She shook away the image as her mother's voice broke into her thoughts.

“Rachel, are you still there?”

“Yes, Mama. I was just thinking. I'm still a little groggy. Can we talk later?”

“All right,” her mother said with a sigh. “Just make sure you call me back. Better than that, why don't you just come home this weekend?”

Rachel hesitated. There was so much that needed to be done.

“It's been three months since you've been home to visit. With the Center closed for now, you should have some extra time on your hands. There's nothing going on that can't wait over the weekend,” her mother cajoled.

“Okay. I'll come down late Friday.”

“Good. I'll see you then.” The phone went dead before Rachel could even say good-bye. She stared at the phone in her hand until the dial tone started buzzing. The conversation was always over as soon as Mama got what she wanted. Rachel curled up with a sigh at the prospect of going home. Things never changed, especially not Mama. Since her father's death six years ago, her mother had tried to control her life. After she graduated from college, her mother's one aim was to see Rachel married no matter what. Rachel knew it was only because she cared, but it often seemed her mother thought her incapable of finding a relationship on her own. It wasn't that Rachel was against marriage; she just wanted it to be with the right man, a godly man. Those were few and far between these days.

She didn't have long to think about her family problems because the phone was ringing again. With a groan, she picked it up.

“Girl, what have you been doing on the phone at this hour?” Susan asked.

“It wasn't my idea.”

“Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“I haven't gotten up yet.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Somehow Susan didn't sound sorry. “I just got some news, and I knew you would want to hear it first thing.”

“What now?”

“The Center has been condemned. They want to have it demolished by summer. That's only six weeks away!” The stress was evident in Susan's voice.

“Already? The damage just happened last night!” Rachel struggled up in bed and plumped the pillow
behind her. “How could they make the decision so
fast?”

“It seems the committee had a meeting about this last week. The tornado damage was just the clincher. What are we going to do, Rach?”

“I don't know.” Rachel struggled for an answer, but her mind was a jumble of images and voices. It was too much, too fast. “I don't know. We'll think of something.” Her words sounded hollow to her own ears, and she knew she wasn't fooling Susan either.

“Yeah. Right. We'll think of something.”

“I'll meet you down at the Center after class, okay?” Rachel asked.

“Sure. I'll talk to you later.”

Rachel hung up the phone and sank against the pillows like a lead weight. Her body felt too heavy to move. What about her students? They would have nowhere to go to study. Most of them were getting ready to apply for citizenship and desperately needed the practice. Not to mention the neighborhood kids who depended on the Center as a place to get away from their family problems. The more she thought about it, the more depressed she became. It took pure willpower to get herself out of bed and into the shower. She still had a job at the university, and she couldn't afford to louse it up.

All the way to the university her mind pondered the situation, but there still seemed no way out. By the time she reached the campus, tears had formed. She pushed them back and took a deep breath. This was no time to get emotional. She had a class to teach.

Rachel took the long way to her class, hoping to avoid Dr. Harris's office. It was going to be hard enough to hide this from her students. She just couldn't face him today as well. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. The impact brought her mind to the present, as a strong arm caught and pulled her close. She was standing nose to nose with Randy Harris. It was several moments before she could catch her breath.

“We meet again,” Randy said. He seemed a bit out of breath.

“Oh.” Rachel couldn't think of anything to say, so she stood there with her mouth half open, willing her brain to work.

“Are you all right?” Randy's brow wrinkled as if in concern. “Come into my office and sit down for a few minutes.”

Despite her protests, he propelled her toward his office, one arm still tight around her waist. Closing the door behind them, he pushed her into his chair and pulled up another for himself. With one hand on either arm of the chair, he looked closely at her. She lowered her eyes and tried to avoid his gaze, but he wasn't giving up.

“What's the matter, Rachel?” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his.

“Nothing. It just scared me a little when I bumped into you. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I'll be fine,” she assured him.

“I don't think so. What's really bothering you?” He stared at her with such concern in his eyes that her resolve melted and the tears that had been so close to the surface all morning finally made their way down her cheeks. “Hey, hey. It's okay.” He pulled her over to the loveseat against the wall and stroked her hair. She laid her head on his shoulder and cried until her body shook with sobs. He just held her, stroking her hair and whispering comforting words. After a few minutes, the tears stopped and she jumped and looked at his watch.

“What time is it?” she cried.

“Eight o'clock. Why?”

“I have class. I have to go or I'll be late.” She started to get up, but he held her firmly in place.

“I don't think so.”

“I don't have any choice.” She tugged at his arm even though, inside, the last thing she wanted to do right now was teach a class. “Let me go. I have to get to class.”

“Not today. You need a break, especially after yesterday. I'll call the office and tell them to send someone to notify the class.” She spouted incoherent protests, but he ignored her. One arm securing her to his side, he used his free arm to dial the office.

“Why did you do that?”

“You need a break. You won't be any good to the students like this. They'll enjoy the vacation. Besides, it's not like you take off every week. As far as I know, this is the first time you've ever missed class. So relax!”

“I guess you're right.” She sank back onto the couch and realized Randy's arm was still around her. It felt good.

“I know I am. Now why don't you go home and take a nap or go for a walk or something? Just clear your mind for a while.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Good girl!” He patted her arm. “I'd go with you, but I'm giving a test in a few minutes. You go on and I'll meet you on the quad for lunch.”

“I think I'll pass on lunch. I'll just grab something at the apartment.” She saw the disappointment in his eyes and she looked away. She needed some time to think.

“Sure. Maybe later.”

“Bye,” she said as she walked out the door.

Randy watched from his window as she crossed the lawn. There was something she wasn't telling him. He was sure of it. Thinking back to last night, he remembered that stab of fear he felt when he heard the weather report. There was no planning, no thinking it through, just an urgent need to find her. When he heard that the tornado had hit the community center, he knew that Rachel was there and needed him. It had taken almost an hour to get through the rubble to where she was. She had been standing alone looking at the damage, obviously in a state of shock. It had been instinct that made him cross the lawn and take her in his arms. She had followed his instructions meekly, accepting his help as if it were as natural as breathing. Then she had said, “Randy, what am I going to do?” She had finally called him Randy. It had come out so easily, as though she had been saying it for years. He had wanted to hold her in his arms, but he was afraid he would scare her. And today he had surprised himself too. Maybe he had come on too strong and that was the reason she had suddenly shied away. Maybe. Still, there was something else going on and he was bound and determined to find out what it was.

Rachel walked across campus, but this time she wasn't feeling sorry for herself. It was time to take some action. She reviewed her resources again and mentally went through a list of options. There had to be a way to keep the Center. There just had to be. With that in mind, she turned her steps toward Susan's house.

“I don't see how it could work, Rachel,” Susan said for the third time. “There's no funding available for another building. The only reason we had the Center is because the property was donated. There never was any money budgeted for a building. That's why it was in such bad shape.”

“But isn't there someone who's willing to let us have classes in an office building or library somewhere? Maybe on campus?”

“That could be a possibility, but that's only short-term. What are we going to do after these classes are finished?”

“I don't know, Susan, but I'm not going to give up without a fight. We owe it to the students to at least finish the term. That will buy us some time to figure out a long-range plan.”

“Okay. Okay. I give in.” Susan threw her hands up in surrender. “We'll do it your way. You just don't give up, do you?”

“Not when I believe in something. This town needs that Center, whether it knows it or not. There's so much more that we could be doing.”

“Whoa there. One thing at a time. First, we find a place to hold classes, and then we conquer the world.”

“I'll talk to the university first thing in the morning,” Rachel offered.

“Great. I'll see if the church will let us use the basketball court and the fellowship hall for the kids' programs. I'll meet you here tomorrow and compare notes.”

“Perfect. Tomorrow we fight.”