The Heavenly Fugitive (35 page)

Amelia had no time to think, for Saul Meyer was instantly on the stage. His face glowed with pleasure, and he came over and put his arms around her, kissing her on the cheek. “You did great, baby, great! Didn’t she do good, Dave?”

“Very good,” the director said. “I think she can handle it.”

“Why don’t you change your costume and we’ll see a few other numbers,” Saul urged.

“I really need to get dressed. I have to work tonight, Mr. Meyer.”

“Oh, sure. Well, I’ll get in touch with Sid. As far as I’m concerned, you’re in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Meyer.”

Amelia left the stage as quickly as she could and whipped off the skimpy dress. When she was fully dressed in her own clothing, she looked at the miserable excuse for a costume and shook her head. “If I do this, I won’t wear that thing,” she muttered. She left the theater at once, and as soon as she stepped outside, she felt in need of a bath. Taking a cab, she went straight home, greatly disturbed and wondering how she would handle this situation.

****

At the club that night Amelia performed mechanically and was sure that people noticed the difference. Audiences were sensitive, and she felt she had done very poorly.

After changing, she left her dressing room to head for home but was intercepted by Ryan Kildare, who greeted her cheerfully. “Hello, Amelia.”

“Hello, Ryan. What are you doing here?”

“Why, I came to hear my favorite singer and maybe get her to go out and have a late supper. I’m starved. I’ve been running all day.”

“I’m not very hungry, Ryan.”

“Well, come along,” he smiled, “and you can listen to me eat.”

She laughed and said, “Your manners aren’t that bad.”

She almost refused, but the experience at the Crystal Theater had depressed her. She had gotten an excited phone call from her agent, Sid, who said that everything was going very well. It looked like she had the part. The news had not encouraged Amelia greatly. Now she said to Ryan impulsively, “I . . . I might eat a sandwich.”

“Fine. Come on, we’ll go to Luigi’s.”

They went to the Italian restaurant and found a table in the back. Ryan had spaghetti, as he nearly always did, but Amelia ate only a salad with her coffee.

Ryan was aware that something was troubling her and finally asked, “Amelia, what’s wrong? Problems?”

“Oh, not really.”

Ryan said nothing more about her depressed manner, but later on as the two left the restaurant, he said, “It’s not far to your place. Do you want to walk or take a cab?”

“Let’s walk.”

As they walked along, Amelia found herself telling Ryan about her tryout at the Crystal. She had not intended to tell anyone her reservations, but Ryan Kildare was a good person to confide in. He was quiet and listened attentively, and before she knew it, she had laid the whole thing out in front of him.

“I thought I’d be so happy to get a break like this, but Ryan, it was humiliating. The costumes were almost nonexistent. It would be like being in burlesque. I don’t like it.”

Ryan had listened quietly. Now he asked a few penetrating questions and then finally said, “I haven’t seen the show
All for Love,
but I’ve seen pictures of the advertisements. It looks pretty low, Amelia.”

“It is low. Lower than you can imagine. It’s not just the scanty costumes and those vulgar dances they do—they make a mockery out of real love. It’s nothing but sex.”

“It sounds like you’re going to have trouble fitting in if you do get the part.”

“But, Ryan, it would be so good for my career.”

Ryan did not answer, and Amelia felt his displeasure. “I know you don’t like it. I don’t either, but look at it this way. If I do the show and I’m good at it, I can get better parts. Why, I might even be able to talk them into letting me wear a more . . . well . . . a more decent costume.”

“You really think that, Amelia?”

Amelia knew she had been fantasizing. “No,” she said
flatly. “I’d have to be what they want me to be. It goes with the part.”

Ryan said abruptly, “You know, I read a story about trapping beavers out west in the early part of our history.”

“What do beavers have to do with what I’m telling you?”

“Well, sometimes the trappers would come and instead of finding a beaver they’d find just a leg. The beaver would gnaw off his own leg in order to escape.”

“What a horrible thought!”

“I thought about those beavers,” Ryan said quietly. The traffic was light, and the stars overhead illuminated the dark canopy like tiny flashing candles. “Those beavers got away, but they had to limp around on three legs the rest of their lives. I’ve known so many people who have had to do something like that. They got into something unpleasant. They got out of it, but they had to, in effect, injure themselves just like those beavers. They left something of themselves behind. I’d hate to see that happen to you, Amelia.”

Amelia was accustomed to this sort of advice from Ryan Kildare. He had a poetic mind and a quick imagination. The little parable he had told her expressed her own fears. She was afraid she would lose part of herself if she signed the contract with Saul Meyer.

When they reached the door of her apartment, she turned to him and smiled. “You wouldn’t like my being in that musical, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t, Amelia.”

“I wouldn’t like it either, but it’s what I’ve worked for. I don’t want to miss my big chance.”

“If you’re unhappy about it now,” Ryan said quietly, “you’ll be much more unhappy later.”

Amelia knew he was right. She tried to summon up an argument, some way to answer his questioning, but she could not. “Good night, Ryan.”

“Just a minute, Amelia.” Ryan suddenly stepped forward
and put his hands on her shoulders. She stopped with surprise and saw a look in his eyes that held her still.

“I want you to marry me, Amelia.”

Amelia could not answer. She had been expecting this moment to come for a long time, and now it was here. She thought she had her answer prepared in case he ever asked the question, but now she found herself unable to speak. She studied the cleanness of his features and felt the power of his eyes. She had never had such strong feelings for a man before and wondered if she ever would for another man. She had always tried to control her feelings for him, had built a wall she thought he could not get through. He stood for things now she could not afford if she were to be a success on the stage. But, despite her effort to resist him, her wall seemed to be breaking down. He put his arms around her, and his lips came down on hers. She no longer resisted, aware of his strength and goodness. She felt the pressure of his body against hers and felt herself responding as she had never allowed herself to before.

Finally he drew back, releasing her, and said, “I don’t have anything to offer you but my love. I’ll never be rich, but I love you, Amelia, and I always will.”

Amelia felt weak, not just in her limbs, which were trembling, but in her spirit as well. She knew it had something to do with the way a woman needs a man. She was physically attracted to Ryan Kildare and always had been. There were other men who were, perhaps, more handsome and certainly many who were more witty and charming, but Ryan had always had the power to touch her. And she felt that now more powerfully than she ever had. She longed to respond, to let herself go, but the struggle she had known for so many years to make something of her life was still there. She still desired fame, money, her name in lights. She knew if she said yes to whatever drove her into the arms of Ryan Kildare, she would be giving up those things.

Painfully, she whispered, “I can’t do it, Ryan.” She put her
hand on his chest and pushed him back, turning away almost forcefully. She fumbled with the key and did not look back. When she stepped inside her apartment, she heard him say, “God wants you, Amelia, and so do I.”

Amelia could not bear it. She shut the door without answering and ran into the bedroom. She threw herself across the bed and, without understanding her reaction, began to weep. She was not a crying woman, but something had broken within her, and she knew she would not forget this moment for a long time.

****

Rosa did not know why she had agreed to go with Phil to one of his speaking engagements. Lately, he had been accepting invitations to share his testimony and the Gospel at churches and other Christian organizations around the city. His reputation as a fine speaker had grown in the past few months and was enhanced by his status as a public prosecutor and his skill in the courtroom. But something about his Christian talks frightened Rosa. However, when he had called her and asked her out to dinner, she did not know that Phil had received a call from her brother. Jamie had begged Phil to see his sister. “Something’s wrong with her, Mr. Winslow. She’s well physically, so I don’t know what it is. Please try to talk to her. She’s scared, and I’m afraid for her.”

Phil had said none of this to Rosa, but he himself had been concerned about her. Now as he sat across from her in the car on the way to his speaking engagement, he tried to keep the conversation as light as he could, but he sensed that she was depressed. Finally he asked, “Is that wound still troubling you, Rosa?”

“Oh no.” Involuntarily Rosa reached up and touched her chest. “It’s all healed up. Dr. Clarkson said it would never give me any problem, but I have nightmares about everything that happened.”

“It was a tough time.”

“Do you think about things like that after they’re over?”

“Why, sure. I can’t help it.”

Phil noted that Rosa had lost weight and that her face was drawn. “You need to take good care of yourself. Get lots of fresh air and exercise.”

Rosa did not answer. She was turned in upon herself, and she spoke only when he asked her a question. Finally, when they reached the church where he was speaking, she said, “I feel funny going into Protestant churches.”

“Don’t think about that. I don’t. I don’t care what’s on the sign outside. It’s what Jesus thinks that counts.”

Rosa could not understand talk like this. It frightened her. She said no more but went inside with him. He found her a seat and then went to speak with the pastor.

Rosa was stirred by the song service. They sang a song called “Amazing Grace.” She found it very different from the music sung in the church she had grown up in. The people here sang with enthusiasm, and she listened carefully to the words.

Rosa could make little of the words. Lost? A wretch like me? What does that mean?

Finally the song service ended, and Phil got up to preach after an introduction by the pastor.

Rosa sat uncomfortably in her seat. She was accustomed to great ceremonial correctness in church. Everyone knew what was going to happen next in her church, but here she looked around furtively and saw anticipation on many faces. She understood that they had come expecting God, but how did they find Him? What did they have in their hearts that brought such joy to their expressions?

When Phil began to speak, she felt a surge of pride in him—he was so handsome and strong—and again she thought,
I could never feel about any other man as I do about him. Why can’t he feel that way about me?

Phil had a fine voice and started with, “I have come at the invitation of your pastor to bring you good tidings. Everywhere I speak I have only one message, and that message is that Jesus Christ is the answer to every need. If you are here tonight and you are sick, He is the healer. If you are sad, He can bring joy into your life. If you are bound by some terrible sin, He can bring you out of that bondage. Whatever your need, Jesus is the answer.”

It was this sort of thing that disturbed Rosa. How could Jesus do all these things? She had no clear idea in her mind about Jesus. She really had more ideas about Mary, for she had learned from childhood to pray to her. But when Phil even pronounced the name Jesus, he said it as if it were a good name, a strong name. She unconsciously leaned forward, listening with all her might as he spoke.

“In the gospel of Luke, the eighth chapter, there is a very wonderful and a very powerful story. It concerns a woman who had been ill for twelve years. The Scriptures say in the forty-third verse that she had an issue of blood, that she was hemorrhaging. The Scripture also says in that verse that she had spent every penny she had on doctors, and none of them had been able to help her.”

Phil looked up then and ran his eyes over the congregation. “I don’t know most of you, but I would say to any of you who are in this building, if you have a great need, you’ve come to the right place. Jesus is present right now, as He always is in every place, to meet that need. I ask you to bow your heads with me, and we will pray that Jesus Christ will walk these aisles, that He will lay His hands on those who need His help, and that we will see those who are helpless made strong in the power of Jesus Christ.”

The challenge frightened Rosa. She had never prayed like
this, but ever since the shooting, she had felt her weakness and how close she had been—as was everyone—to death. Without thinking, she prayed,
Oh, Jesus, you know I need help. I don’t understand any of this, but if you can help me, I ask you to do it.

After the prayer, Phil continued the story of the woman with the issue of blood. She was a woman without hope. He drew a picture of her life and the fear that was in her, how no one on earth could do anything for her, and then he spoke of Jesus. “This woman had heard of Jesus,” he said, “and when she heard He was coming to her town, she went and determined that she would get help for her exhausted, sick body. The streets were probably crowded, for Jesus was a popular man. I imagine she was pushed and shoved around, weak as she was with no man to help her. As far as we know, she had no sons or brothers, but she made her way down the street and finally heard the crowd shouting, ‘Jesus is coming! Jesus is coming!’ ”

Phil looked out, and his eyes caught Rosa’s. He held her gaze and smiled gently. “I would like to have been there that day when that poor woman did all she could. She simply reached out as Jesus passed and touched His garment. That’s not much to do, is it? It wouldn’t do her any good to touch
my
coat, but when she touched the garment of Jesus, the Bible says, ‘Immediately her issue of blood stanched.’ She was healed in that moment!