Starring Me (25 page)
“Good.”
“Are you a psychiatrist pretending to be a housemother? ” Kara laughed.
“Certainly not.” Flora sat up and shook her blue-black head.
“A preacher?”
Flora laughed loudly. “Oh, my dear. I’m just a woman who wants to see you live life to the fullest.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Kara smiled.
“‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”
“I know that one.” Kara closed her eyes. “
Hamlet
, right? ”
“Very good.” Flora smiled.
“You think I’m missing something?”
“I think you’re missing some
one
.”
“You know what?” Kara thought back to her day at the homeless shelter with Addy. “You might be right.”
“Might be,” Flora said. “We’re getting closer, aren’t we? ”
“Between you and Addy, I can’t get away from all this God-talk.”
“He is pursuing you, Kara.”
“That sounds like he’s a detective or some boy with a crush.”
“He seeks you out like a detective.” Flora cocked her head to the side. “And he loves you more passionately than any boy ever will. But he is neither of those things. God is God.”
“But if he really is who you guys say he is—and I’m not saying I’m ready to believe that—then why would he even be interested in me? Why pursue me? I’m just some puny human in this massive universe. Why does he care?”
Flora folded her hands on the table. “That, my dear, is one of the great mysteries. Thankfully, we don’t have to understand God’s great love. We just have to accept it.”
“Just accept it?” Kara shook her head. “But there’s more than just accepting he loves me. What about all those ‘Thou shalt not’s’?”
“To which are you referring? ‘Thou shalt not steal’? ‘Thou shalt not murder’?”
Kara smiled. “You know what I mean. You Christians have all kinds of things you can’t do and places you can’t go.”
“Everyone has a set of rules he follows.”
Kara raised her eyebrows. “I’m from New York. I can promise you not everyone lives by a set of rules.”
“I didn’t say everyone follows
God’s
rules.”
“What about gangs? They don’t follow any rules at all.”
Flora leaned back in her seat. “I have a good friend who used to be in a gang in Miami. He says the rules he used to follow were myriad, from what he could and could not wear to whom he could and could not speak to. To maintain his position in the gang, my friend had to follow the orders of his superior. Those orders were often dangerous and illegal. But he had to follow them or face dire consequences.”
“And did he?”
“He did until the police captured him carrying out one of those orders—the murder of a rival gang member.”
Kara’s eyes widened.
“He is in jail now, and I correspond with him.”
“You’re pen pals with a murderer?”
“I correspond with several murderers.” Flora shrugged.
“I never thought of doing that,” Kara said. “Can anyone just send letters to guys in prison?”
“You are still young, Kara.” Flora laced her fingers together. “I wouldn’t recommend putting yourself in that situation just yet. Some men, unfortunately, like to take advantage of beautiful young girls.”
“So how did you get started? Weren’t you nervous they’d take advantage of you?”
“I mail the letters to a man I know who runs a prison ministry. He takes them out of my envelope and puts them in a plain one, so the inmates don’t have my street address. We must balance our love with wisdom.”
“But how’d you get started? You just woke up one day and said, ‘I feel like writing a murderer’?”
“A very good friend of mine told me about it. She used to write inmates. But when she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, she lost that ability. So I felt God calling me to take it up.”
“What do you write about?”
“I let them know God loves them and offers forgiveness. Many of the men and women I write to have become Christians. They tell me that following Jesus offers much more freedom than following the ways of the world. They have hope and purpose.”
“But they took lives. How can you tell them God loves them?”
“Because he does,” Flora said. “God doesn’t love us because of what we can do for him. He loves us because we are his.”
Kara inhaled deeply. “But I’m a good person. I’m not a murderer or a gang member.”
“You are a sinner.”
“What?”
“The Bible tells us that all have sinned.”
“Sure, maybe I’ve told a lie here and there or lost my temper, but nothing major.”
“Sin is sin. And sin keeps us from having a relationship with God.”
“So I can’t know God because I’ve told some little white lies? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Flora held out her cup of carrot juice. “What if someone put a drop of cyanide in this cup? Just a drop?”
“You’d die?”
“And what if someone put a whole spoonful of cyanide in this cup?”
“You’d die faster,” Kara said.
“Very true.” Flora took a sip of her carrot juice. “Sin is like poison. We are all infected, and it is always fatal. However, Jesus offered a cure.”
“That’s why he died?”
Flora nodded. “Because he was the only one to ever walk this earth and live a sinless life.”
“Because you believe he’s God?”
“Because he said he was God, and Scripture affirms that.”
“So he’s like the antidote to sin?”
“Exactly.”
“And other religions?”
“They are taking the wrong antidote, to continue your analogy,” Flora said. “If I were to ingest cyanide, and someone gave me aspirin, would I live?”
“No.”
“Is that fair?” Flora grinned.
“I get what you’re saying. But what if there is no sin? What if you’re wrong?”
“When God gets ahold of your heart, he shows himself to you in so many ways that you will know he is real. Ask him to do that for you.”
Kara sighed. “You keep saying that.”
“Because knowing God isn’t about the intellect, Kara. I can answer your questions, and I don’t mind doing that. But true, saving faith involves all of you: heart, mind, and soul. Only God can speak to your soul.”
“I’m going to keep thinking about it, okay? I’m still not sure, though. It’s a little scary.”
“I am praying for you, Kara.”
She looked at her phone. “Oh no! Pray I memorize my lines really quickly. I totally forgot about the live show. We’re going on in just a few hours. I better go.”
Kara stood to leave the kitchen and turned back to face Flora. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Flora’s smile was broad and her laugh deep. “Oh, Kara. I feel the same way.”
Kara walked back to her room.
All right, God. Maybe you are real. And maybe you’re trying to help me see that. You sure aren’t letting me forget about you. So let me see you. Somehow. If you’re out there and you really love me, like Flora and Addy say, show me. How about letting me get the part on this show, God?
Kara smiled as she picked up her script.
That would definitely make me believe
.
I
’m going to need somebody to move this couch.” Anna Grace walked around the set. “When we rehearsed, it was over there.”
One of the crew stepped forward. “This is where we were told to place it. I’m sorry.”
“You sure are sorry.” Anna Grace snapped her fingers in the man’s face. “Now move it back.”
The man picked up his phone and pressed a number. “One of the girls wants us to move the couch . . .” He held the phone out to Anna Grace.
“Hello? This is Anna Grace. Who is this? . . . Ashley. Oh, well, I was just telling this man that the couch wasn’t here when we rehearsed . . . Of course I’m flexible, but—Yes, yes, I can manage changes, but—No, don’t do that. It’s fine . . . All right.” Anna Grace handed the phone back to the man and glared at Kara.
“What are you looking at? You know you were thinking the same thing. You just didn’t have the guts to say anything. At least Ashley knows I’ll stand up for myself.”
Kara rolled her script in her hands. “Can we practice now?”
“Yes,” Jillian said. “I had a little trouble remembering my lines in the middle. I’d like to run it a couple more times before the audience gets here.”
Anna Grace walked to Jillian. “You had a little trouble? Puh-lease, you were mumbling and stammering all over the place. Good thing I know enough about acting to save your sorry behind. Fine. Let’s go. But I want some lights, folks. Too many shadows here.”
I could strangle that girl
. Kara fought down frustration at Anna Grace.
At least I know if I do, Flora will write to me in prison
.
“Jillian, move,” Anna Grace yelled. Jillian got into place and Kara followed. The scene was rough. The girls were supposed to be playing best friends, but it was hard when there was so much tension. Anna Grace stopped every few minutes to give directions and Kara bit her tongue to keep from lashing out.
“Kara, you need more energy.” Anna Grace stopped the rehearsal—again. “Ashley should have given
me
that part instead of making me play Shelby. I would have killed it. You’re killing it too, but in the ‘laying dead on the floor’ kind of way.”
“Are you going to do this when the audience is here? ” Kara motioned toward the rows of empty seats.
“Are you going to show some talent when they come? ’Cause I sure don’t see anything now.”
Jillian stepped between the girls. “Come on now. Let’s channel our energy into this scene, not each other.” She looked up to wave at Flora, sitting in the back row.
“Whatever.” Anna Grace walked away. “The worse you two act, the better I’ll look.”
After a second run-through, Anna Grace announced she had to go find some solitude so she could get into character. “Not that you two would know anything about that,” she added on her way out.
Jillian mumbled a curse word under her breath and Kara turned to her.
“Oh.” Jillian glanced toward Flora’s seat. The woman was gone. “Sorry. She just makes me so mad.”
“I think she does it on purpose. To try and psych us out.”
Kara’s phone rang and Addy’s picture popped up. “Addy!”
“Kara, I’m out front. Where are you?”
“You made it!”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a chance to see you perform live. Can you come out for a minute? They won’t let me inside.”
“I’d love to get out of here.” Kara waved good-bye to Jillian. “Be right there.”
Kara found the stage manager and informed him she’d be out for a few minutes, then she headed for the back door.
“Addy?” Kara peeked her head around the corner of the building and whispered. A long line of teens was in front of the building, and Kara didn’t want to have to talk to anyone but Addy just then.
Addy ran toward Kara and hugged her. “Your hair looks great!”
“I know.” Kara shook her long auburn hair. “I let the stylist work her magic. Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” Hair parted in the middle, with soft curls framing her face, Kara felt like a supermodel ready for a photo shoot.
“It is.” Addy touched one of Kara’s curls. “I’ve always loved your hair, but this is extra spectacular.”
“I need all the help I can get.” Kara smirked. “I’m on with Jillian and Anna Grace.”
“Oh.” Addy followed Kara to a shady spot under the awning of the building’s back entrance. “This isn’t a beauty contest, though.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.” Addy laughed. “You’re all beautiful.”
“But those girls are perfect. I know.” Both of the blond bombshells could be on the cover of
Glamour
magazine.
“So, are you ready for tonight?”
“I guess.” Kara fanned herself to try to keep her makeup from melting in the Florida heat. “It’s weird. I’ve done theater, so audiences don’t scare me. But in theater, you have to be bigger, you know? You’ve got people in the back, so you have to speak louder and make your movements big enough so everyone can see and hear you. But on TV, the camera is right in your face, so you don’t have to do all that. It’s subtler. So I’m not sure what to do with the audience. Play to them or play to the camera?”
“Don’t you have a director telling you what to do?” Addy pulled a water bottle from her backpack and handed it to Kara.
“My prepared friend.” Kara took the water and gulped half of it down. “Thank you. Yeah, we have a director—Anna Grace.”
“What?”
“Ashley wants to see how we’ll do on our own. So other than some basic help, we’ve had to block and rehearse this by ourselves. We’re all doing the same scene. Three groups. One group has four people in it, so I guess they have another character. But we’re basically competing against the other groups.”
“That’s got to be tough,” Addy said.