Enemy of Gideon (23 page)

Mom smiles. “I didn’t realize you’d made friends at school. That’s wonderful.”

“I’ll be back in time for dinner.” I rise from the sofa.

She looks up at me. “I love you.”

I bend down and hug her. “I love you too, Mom.”

“You’ve changed so much,” she says. “I knew the rehab was going to help you.”

A bitter taste forms in my mouth a
s I step back.

“You give them too much credit,” I say.

“You’re right. I’m proud of the changes
you’ve
made.”

I nod at Mom and stare into her eyes.
When, God? When will I be able to tell her You changed me?

►▼◄

Fast-paced music trickles into my ears when I arrive inside of Corinth. In the middle of the village, the believers dance and sing around a fire. Despite the frost and cold breezes, bundled-up musicians sit on logs playing flutes, violins, and drums. Saphie and Arkin dance together in the crowd, laughing and singing. I watch them from a distance, remembering my last dance with him. Even though I forgot it for a time, the dance lingered with me ever since my memory recalled it. I long to dance with him again. I long to kiss him.

“Raissa!” he calls.

I wave but stay in place, frightened by my longings
. If he knew how I felt, would he snub me? Would he say it’s inappropriate? Dad knows how I feel about Arkin, but he never chastises me for my feelings. What would be the harm in telling Arkin?

He runs to me, and my mouth goes dry. I can’t bear the thought of rejection.

“Happy Holiday,” I say.

He laughs. “We don’t say that around here. It’s Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” I say.

“Is that for me?” he asks, gesturing to the rolled paper tied with ribbon in my hand.

“Yes,” I say, handing him the gift.

He takes it and unties the ribbon with a grin, but the grin fades when he unrolls the paper, a sketch of his parents dancing together.

“Is it okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head, eyes wide. “How? How did you draw this?”

“From memory,” I say, fear gripping my throat. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

“It’s unbelievable!” He embraces me. “This is the only picture I have of them. Thank you!”

Without warning, the music surrounding us fades under the loudest noise I’ve ever heard. A great wind blows across the village, knocking out the flames of the fire. The musicians stop playing, and startled dancers and singers freeze in shock. The noise and wind come from the direction of Josiah’s shop.

Arkin pulls away from me.

“What is that?” I ask, my heart racing.

He pulls my arm. “Come on!”

We run toward Josiah’s workshop, dead leaves flying at our faces. The crowd follows us. The closer we come to the workshop, the louder the thunder-like noise grows. The trees behind the workshop bend and shake under the power of the whipping and thudding.

When we arrive at the back of the shop, the helicopter sits in the clearing with its propellers spinning, sending a burst of air in every direction. Josiah, with a huge smile, stands before us swinging his arms over his head. The man in the cockpit gives a thumbs-up signal and then cuts off the engine.

“We did it!” Josiah screams, jumping up and down. “It works! Thank You, Jesus!”

“I can’t believe it!” Arkin yells.

The huge propellers slow to a crawl, and the blast of air fades. The helicopter’s noise is replaced with the villagers’ cheers.

“We’re counting down,” Josiah says over the roar. “In five days, we fly!”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

W
hen the Sunday sun breaks over the horizon, I slide out of bed and pull on clean coveralls. I creep through the apartment, hoping not to wake Mom as I leave.
 

In the frozen air, citizens scramble to add the last few decorations for the New Year's Eve celebration. At the countdown to midnight, most citizens will gather in the center of the city to watch the giant ball of colored lights climb a metal tower. The huge party will fill the marketplace and the surrounding streets. For a few short days, vibrant shades of blue, green, purple, and yellow brighten Gideon's drab cityscape.
 Decorators toil from the day after Holiday to a couple of hours before the celebration to transform Gideon with colored balloons and streamers. Banners hang across the streets with messages and the New Year's theme, “Loyalty to Gideon,” inciting citizen pride.

As I search for a taxi carriage to the Garveys' farm, I struggle to shake my weariness and apprehension. I spent the night before imagining what might happen today. No one knows how the flyer drop will affect Gideon, but CE doesn't have the resources to rehabilitate the thousands of citizens who will read the flyers. Citizens might be so overcome with curiosity about the helicopter and the flyers, their eyes will open to the world beyond Gideon.
 

I board a carriage to the Garveys' farm for six credits. I will soon have no savings left from my summer work, but I also will have no need of credits soon. Unbeknownst to anyone else, I’m leaving Gideon right before they complete the wall in one week to live in Corinth with Dad.

An hour later, I arrive in Corinth. Arkin runs to the horse before I can climb off. His expression tells me something is wrong.

“Thank God you're here,” he says. “I couldn't send you a message. Your father has been in bed for the past twenty-four hours.”

I dismount the horse. “What's wrong?”

“The doctor came from Galatia and he said your dad's organs are shutting down.”
 

I speed off toward Dad's cabin. When I arrive inside, he lay in bed with Sarai sitting beside him. A clear mask covers his nose and mouth, providing oxygen from a tank on the floor. His eyes are closed.

“He’s resting now,” Sarai says, “but it won't be long.”

I fall on my knees beside the bed and take his cold, clammy hand.

“Would it be selfish if I prayed for him to pull through?” I ask her.

She rests a hand on m
y shoulder. “Love is not selfish, dear.”

I bow my head and pray.
Lord, please let my father live long enough to see us complete tonight’s mission.

►▼◄

When I arrive back at the apartment at six o'clock, I have been to Corinth and back twice. Each time, Dad's condition remained unchanged. Burdened by the possibility of losing him before the clock strikes midnight, I tried focusing my attention on the helicopter mission. I helped Josiah all day by loading crates of flyers, collecting parts, and helping the helicopter pilot, Norris, decipher the flight manual. They cut on the helicopter three times and lifted it a few feet off of the ground once. Josiah said there wasn't enough fuel for a practice flight. We would have to rely on God to help Norris get it right the first time.

I enter the apartment. “Mom?”

Hunter appears in the kitchen doorway. “Your mother went to buy some tomatoes.”

I shed my coat and take a seat at the kitchen table.

“What have you been up to today?” he asks, stirring a pot of liquid on the stove.

“Hanging out with some friends,” I say.

“Ogden?”

“We haven’t talked in a while.” Ogden has been cautious to visit Corinth on his own once a week, so we don't cross paths.

He stops stirring and approaches the table.

“So who are your friends?” he asks. “Your mother says you never bring them around.”

I raise an eyebrow and shrug. “We hang out at school.”

He walks around the table and closes the window curtains. My heartbeat picks up.

“I found something in your room,” he whispers, “something you shouldn't have.”

“What were you doing in my room?” I ask, jumping up from the table.

“I was taking laundry in there for your mother, and that book was on the bed.”

I stiffen.
How could I forget to hide my Bible?

“You have no business in my room,” I say. “You need to stop playing house. You two aren't even married yet.”

He clinches his fist as his face twists. “Don’t change the subject. You've been back to the outskirts, haven't you?”

I grit my teeth. “Why? Is that going to ruin your wedding plans?”

He turns away and rubs his temples. When he looks at me again, the redness has faded from his cheeks. “Look, I hid the book. I didn't show it to your mother. It would destroy her. If she lost you, she …”

He allows the words to fade away, but I know what he means.

“I won't let them execute me,” I whisper. “I'll leave Gideon before that happens.”

“It's my duty as a CE officer to report illegal propaganda,” he says. “I'm giving you forty-eight hours to get your stuff together and get out of Gideon.”

I nod, trying to repress the emotions mounting inside of me. How could I forget to hide the book? How could I let Hunter cut short the little time I planned for a smooth transition from Gideon to Corinth? A burning rises within me inch-by-inch.

“My father is alive,” I say.

His eyes widen. “What?”

“He's dying,” I say. “He's been sick for a long time.”

He drops down into the chair at the table. “Your mother can't know about this.”

“She already knows he’s alive. She doesn’t know he’s dying, but she deserves to know everything that's happening,” I say.

“Are you 
trying
 to break her heart?” he asks.

“Break her heart? You should know a lot about that,” I say. “You showed up to spy on me, and now you've seduced my mother into marrying you!”

He slams his fist on the table. “I never seduced her!”

I back away a step, staring at his red face.

“I love your mother,” he says, his voice low and shaky. “That's why I want to protect her from the enemies. She deserves a life of peace.”

I shake my head. “There is no real peace in Gideon. It's all a lie.”

The apartment door opens, and Mom enters. Hunter rises from his chair while I settle back down at the table.

“Hey,” Mom says, “I've got fresh tomatoes, and I even brought us a fruit salad for dessert.” She enters the kitchen, sees me, and cocks her head. “You made it in time for dinner.”

I force a smile.

“Everything okay? Did I interrupt something?” she asks.

“We were having a heart-to-heart,” he says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He sends a glare my way. “Nothing to worry about, right, Raissa?”

I avoid his eyes and swallow my emotions.
My life in Gideon will be over in less than forty-eight hours.
“Sure. Everything’s fine.”

►▼◄

“This is the first time in six years I’ve been out to the New Year’s celebration,” Mom says.

I walk down the cold cobblestone path outside the apartment building with Hunter and Mom.

“I usually have duty,” he says, pulling Mom close by his side. “I was lucky to get this night off with you.”

I ignore Hunter’s affections, trying to forget any respect I once had for the man. When he was a spy, he based his friendship with Mom on lies. Yet, he now gives me a chance to escape from Code Enforcement. It shows how much the man truly loves her. By not notifying his superior when he found the book, he took a huge risk. Not only would a CE officer lose his badge for protecting an enemy, he would lose his life.

“I’m meeting some friends in front of the ball,” I say.

“That’s fine. Don’t forget curfew begins at one o’clock,” Mom says.

A cold wind gust swirls around the crowd before us, shaking banners and the strings of colored lights draped above us. I pull my toboggan lower on my ears. As we approach the center of the city, the crowds become thicker and louder. A fast-paced piano melody called “Forever Gideon” plays over loudspeakers. I press ahead, forcing my way past excited children and chattering friends. Some of the citizens wear funny hats and glasses. A few citizens wave miniature Gideon pride flags while others dance and sing. I turn the corner and enter the marketplace, searching the crowd for Arkin.

The metal tower, some seventy feet high, sits in the middle of the market square surrounded by citizens. The ball of electrical lights, currently unlit, sits at the bottom waiting for its ten-second climb to the top where it will light up and spin. I watched the ball climb up with Petra the year before and the year before that. We watched it together every year. My heart suddenly weighs a ton. This year I will watch it without her.

I push through a crowd so densely packed that sweat forms on my brow in the freezing air. I stop some fifty feet from the ball tower. Crowds of unfamiliar faces surround me but no Arkin.
What if he was arrested for coming into Gideon? What if something went wrong with the helicopter and he never left Corinth?

I check the time on my wristband: 11:50.

A tiny spot freezes on my eyelid. Up in the night sky, snowflakes float down. They land on my face, chilling my cheeks and nose even more. I close my eyes and stand in place.
God, I’m sorry for how I treated Hunter. Please help me get this right,
I pray.
What now? What’s next?

Someone in the crowd bumps against me and then a hand taps my shoulder. Arkin stands behind me in the dark-framed glasses and a toboggan.

“I lost the wig,” he says, removing the glasses. “CE is sparse this year, so I should be safe.”

“That’s good to hear,” I say. “Please tell me my dad is still alive.”

“I checked on him before I left,” he says. “He was actually awake, but Sarai said he can’t speak.”

I nod. I will have to return to Corinth when dawn breaks.

Arkin looks at his wristband. “It’s 11:55. Where’s Norris? He should be here by now.”

“Was it working okay?” I ask.

“There were some fuel issues, but they were still going to fly it,” he says.

We search the white-flecked sky. The believers will drop the flyers right before the countdown, but anything can go wrong. They have an inexperienced pilot flying a one-hundred-year-old machine with questionable parts and fuel issues. In a situation ripe for disaster, we have only one comfort: God working on our side.

“One minute to countdown, citizens!” an announcer says from the stage at the bottom of the metal tower.

The crowd cheers in a roar sweeping all across the square and into the surrounding city streets. Arkin’s lips move.

“What?” I shout over the commotion.

“He’ll be here! I know he will!” he yells, looking down at me.

I stare up at the sky, running my eyes across the darkness. Snowflakes fill my view.

“Here we go!” the announcer shouts. “Ten!”

The crowd cheers, and the countdown begins.

“Eight!” the crowd screams.

The ball climbs up and up in my peripheral vision, the way it did for the last sixteen years of my life. I watch it climb up, but a glimpse of Arkin distracts me. He’s staring at me.

“Five!”

A new year will bring about changes I can’t endure without my faith in Christ and my friendship with Arkin.
But what about more? What about the love I have for him? Can I keep it locked away forever?

“Two!”

Arkin brings his gloved hand to my cheek. I can’t take my eyes away from his. His lips parted as if he is about to form a word, but he remains silent. Something stirs within me, and I recognize the look in his eyes. He leans his face closer to mine.

“One!”

I close my eyes and wait. His soft, warm lips meet mine.

“Happy New Year, Gideon!” the announcer says.

Arkin’s arms envelope me as I fall deeper into the kiss. My heart soars. When he eases back, I can’t find my breath. He stares into my eyes, and the breath returns.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to do that, Arkin of Philippi,” I say.

“Was it worth the wait?” he asks.

A familiar thudding roar swallows up our moment and a burst of wind sends a shocking chill across the masses. We gaze up at the sky, but the light from the streetlamps only allows a misshapen shadow with red flashing lights to be seen. The noise grows louder and louder while the crowd stares up in mixed bewilderment and horror.

“He made it!” Arkin shouts, jumping up and down. “Woo-hoo!”

A shower of white papers rain down on the center of Gideon like a blizzard. We reach up and catch them, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Here,” I say, passing a flyer to a nearby stranger. “What is this? We’d better read it!”