Christy flinched at the brightness.
“I’m glad you said that.” Katie reached for her bucket of bathroom necessities. She cleverly had arranged her shampoo, soap, and facial scrub in a bright plastic sand bucket and had poked holes in the bottom so she could take it in the shower. “Open policy between us. Always.”
“Always,”Christy said, feeling more awake. “Now tell me about Matt, number fourteen. Was he happy to see you?”
“It wasn’t him. Or at least by the time I got outside he wasn’t there. If he was even there to begin with.” Katie pulled a pair of flannel shorts and a T-shirt from her dresser drawer. “I don’t know for sure if he’s coming back this year. I’m going to take a quick shower. Some of the guys were goofing off, and I got shaving cream down my back. See you in a bit.”
Katie whooshed out the door just as Christy said, “Could you turn off the . . .”
Forcing her feet to hit the bare floor, Christy turned off the overhead light herself. “I have to buy a rug,” she muttered before crawling back into bed. She knew if she and Katie started a conversation after Katie returned from her shower, they would end up talking for hours. Christy wanted to keep up on her sleep while she could, so she coaxed herself to fall asleep before Katie returned.
The next sound Christy heard was the irritating buzz of her alarm clock. It made an obnoxious sound, but Christy found she could fall back to sleep too easily with a softer alarm or music.
“What is that?” Katie bellowed from her side of the room.
“It’s just me. Go back to sleep,” Christy said softly. “I’m getting an early start for my appointment.”
“Humph,” Katie grunted, turning toward the wall.
Christy tiptoed over to the window and raised the curtain a few inches. Another clear, sunny day. The skirt and top she had laid out last night were still a good choice for the day. It was her nicest casual outfit and seemed right for the job interview that would most likely follow the meeting with her counselor.
Quietly pulling her desk chair to the window, Christy reached for her Bible and diary and settled in. The morning light fell across the open pages on her lap. After praying, she began to read where she had left off a few days ago. Her goal had been to read through the New Testament that summer. She had only made it through the first chapter of John.
Christy’s eye caught on verse twelve, and she underlined it, reading it again in a whisper. “ ‘Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.’ ”
She made a note in her journal.
I have been given the right to become one of God’s children because I have received Him into my heart and life and I have believed in His name. It’s like God has adopted me into His family.
Christy chewed on the end of her pen and thought of all the orphans she had grown to care about in Basel. They were waiting for someone to give them the right to become an adopted child. Just the thought of those young hearts and eager faces was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Christy had intended to read to the end of the chapter, but instead she prayed for each of the orphans by name. The sun pouring through the window began to warm her arm, and she knew she needed to get going. She could spend the whole morning praying in a melancholy daze.
Slipping out of the room to take a shower, Christy left all the orphans behind when she closed her Bible and told herself she had to move on.
The meeting with the counselor went well. All Christy’s transcripts had arrived from Basel, and the extra courses she had taken provided her with more transferred credits than she had calculated. If she wanted a bachelor’s degree in elementary education, the next step was to plan her student teaching. However, Christy told the counselor she had changed her mind and no longer wanted to go that route.
“I’m thinking of changing my major to humanities,” Christy said. “Or maybe English literature.”
“I see,” the counselor said. He wrote something in pencil on the inside of her folder. Christy tried to see what he wrote without being obvious.
“I think I’m leaning more toward literature,” she said.
“Either major would work,” he said. “You have a good solid base for both of them. I was adding up the credits, and if you went with English literature, you could graduate in June. You would need to add another three units this semester and carry a full load of sixteen units next semester.”
“That’s okay,” Christy said. Then she wished she hadn’t spoken so quickly. After her intense year of study in Basel, she had hoped to take it easier this semester. Especially with a job, which she didn’t exactly have yet. And a social life, which was still high on her priority list.
“Would it be okay if I looked over all this and came back the first of next week?” Christy asked.
“Sure. The sooner the better. I have an open slot at four this afternoon, if you know what you want to do by then. Take this catalog with you. I’ve marked the classes you still need.” The counselor gave Christy a reassuring grin. “It’s nice to be in the final stretch, isn’t it?”
Christy nodded and left the administration building fighting the panicky feelings that taunted her. A few days ago Katie had made the same sort of comment about Christy and Todd being in the final stretch in their relationship as they readied themselves to head down the church aisle. The counselor’s comment reminded Christy that she was in the final stretch to head down the graduation aisle. At this moment, she didn’t feel ready to walk down any aisles.
Her visit to the bookstore at exactly ten minutes after ten was less stressful. That helped her to focus on the present.
When Christy entered the busy bookstore and asked for Donna, a beautiful woman in a buttery yellow blazer stepped out of the back room and said, “Are you Christy?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Come on back here.” Donna’s skin had a warm, caramel tone. Her golden brown hair was pulled up in a twist and held in place with what looked like two chopsticks. On her desk sat a small blue teapot alongside a china teacup.
“Please, sit down.” Donna pointed to several unopened boxes of books that were stacked beside her small desk. It’s a little crowded, I know. It will be this way until we clear out all these textbooks next week. Would you like some tea? I think this is still hot.” She felt the side of the teapot.
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” Christy tried to figure out a dainty way to perch on top of the highest box.
Donna sat down and smiled at Christy. They chatted a few minutes before Donna asked, “How many hours a week can you work?”
“About fifteen, I think. Or less. I just found out I have to take another class this term.”
“I could use you about fifteen hours a week for the first two weeks of school. After that it would be about ten or twelve hours. Would that be okay?”
“Sure. That would be just right, I think.”
“I’ll need a copy of your class schedule, but I don’t have any open hours on the weekends, so you would work only Monday through Friday. Is that okay?”
Christy had expected more of an interview than this. She smiled at the gentle yet direct businesswoman. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Donna said. “Ten minutes ago I thought I’d have to spend the next week going through the hassle of job posting, but you came highly recommended.”
Christy thought it funny that some guy she had never met had recommended her simply because Katie talked to him last night at The Java Jungle. That must be one of the advantages of attending a small, private Christian college; the trust factor was strong in this cozy community.
In less than twenty minutes, Christy had filled out all the paper work Donna handed her, and Christy did agree to a cup of tea when Donna offered it a second time. The peach tea was refreshing.
“I’ll go over all the other details with you when you start on Monday,” Donna said. “Do you have any questions?”
“I don’t think so.”
Donna
smiled. “I’ll see you Monday.”
Christy left the bookstore and headed back to her dorm room amazed at how easy that had been. She had almost an hour before Aunt Marti would arrive for lunch, and Christy wanted to call her parents to let them know about her job.
As she imagined, her mom sounded relieved. “Your father will be glad to hear this, honey. He was asking me again last night, and I was wondering if anything had opened up for you.”
“Did you know Aunt Marti is coming to take me to lunch?” Christy asked.
“Is she?” Mom paused. “That’s nice of her.”
“Do you think she’s upset that I didn’t call or go see them when I got back from Switzerland?”
“I don’t know.”
“I asked Katie to come with us just in case I need some moral support.”
“How are you and Katie getting along?” Mom asked.
“We’re getting along great, as always. Katie is the one who helped me get this job.”
“Didn’t she also help you find your job at the pet store?”
“That’s right; she did. I’m glad you remembered that. I’ll have to thank Katie doubly now. If it weren’t for her, how would I ever find work?”
Mom chuckled. “You would manage. Any young woman who can chart her way through a year at school in Switzerland can manage just about anything.”
Christy was going to tell her mom she still had to make a final decision about her major. But when her mom said all those nice things about Christy managing her own life, she decided to hold her thoughts. It would be much easier to call home again after she had the major figured out. Especially since Mom’s comment made Christy feel competent and accomplished.
Katie arrived at the dorm room only a few minutes before Christy received a call from the lobby letting her know Marti had arrived.
“Are you ready, Katie?” Christy was about to suggest Katie change from her shorts and T-shirt into something nicer. But then Christy knew she would be doing to Katie what Aunt Marti had done to Christy for years. She didn’t want to direct other people in what they said, did, or wore, Christy decided.
Katie apparently thought she was dressed appropriately and accompanied Christy to the lobby. Christy silently inventoried the outfit she had put on that morning—the casual yet crisp skirt and the clean, unwrinkled top. Certainly Marti couldn’t find fault with Christy’s appearance.
The two friends stepped into the lobby, and Christy looked around, not seeing her aunt among the four people sitting in the lounge.
Then a short woman with long, flowing, dark hair and wearing a wrinkled gauze skirt, a silk tank top, and strings of tiny colored beads rose and came to Christy. The woman kissed Christy on each cheek with sublime elegance.
“Aunt Marti?” Christy choked on the words. She couldn’t stop staring at her transformed aunt. This woman, who had always dressed in the most expensive, chic, and traditional outfits, this woman who always wore her hair short and perfectly styled, this woman who never even went downstairs in her own house without wearing makeup, now stood before Christy and Katie looking as if she had dressed as Mother Earth for a costume party.
“Aunt Marti?” Katie finally said, echoing Christy’s surprise in face and voice.
“What do you think, girls?” Marti turned around. “It’s the new me.” She held out the ends of her long hair. “Extensions. Aren’t they glorious?”
“Glorious,” Christy repeated mechanically. It came out sounding more like a question than an affirmation.
“I surprised you both, didn’t I?” Marti said. “This is the new me. Fresh. Renewed on all levels. I finally have come into harmony with my artistic aura.”
Christy and Katie exchanged quick glances. If Christy hadn’t known Marti to be a strict, controlling, no-nonsense person, Christy would have thought this some elaborate joke. The voice was Marti’s. So were the bony fingers that grasped Christy’s elbow and pushed for them to be on their way.
“I . . . um . . . I invited Katie to go with us.” Christy wiggled her elbow free from Marti’s grasp.
“How generous of you,” Marti said sweetly. She turned to Katie and said, “Sorry, Katie dear. Not this time. This is just for Christy and me.”
“No problem.” Katie looked just a little too eager to pull back.
Christy gave Katie a desperate “thanks a lot” look and in complete bewilderment followed her aunt out into the afternoon heat to Marti’s silver Lexus parked in front of the dormitory. Christy numbly opened the passenger door and slid onto the leather seat. She couldn’t help but feel as if she were being kidnapped. Abducted by an alien. She turned to stare once more at her transformed aunt. Something inside Christy made her want to shake this woman and scream out, “I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done with my aunt, but give her back this instant!”
Then Christy remembered what her aunt was like before she found her “artistic aura,” and for half a minute Christy didn’t know which version of Marti was worse.
This is absolutely bizarre! What am I doing? What is my aunt doing? I should have made an excuse and told her I couldn’t go or at least insisted we eat on campus so I’d have witnesses if she tried to make me join her in a rain dance or something!
“Marti, where are we going?” Christy asked as they sped down the hill into town.
“I was going to take you to the Colony in Palm Desert, but it’s not pottery day, and I’d much rather you come on pottery day. So today is simply our time to be together. I want to hear all about Switzerland, and I’m sure you want to hear all about the changes in my life.”
Christy suggested Taco Bell. It was close, and lots of students stopped there. She felt safe going to Taco Bell.
Apparently Marti’s aura wasn’t in the mood for Mexican food, so they ended up at a quiet Japanese restaurant. They had to take off their shoes and sit on the floor at low tables. Marti ordered for both of them and then turned to Christy and said, “Now tell me all about Switzerland.”
“It was a good year,” Christy began.
Just then a fly buzzed past them, and Marti swatted at it with a fierceness that surprised Christy.
“Vile creature,” Marti spat. “And in a restaurant, no less. You would think the proprietors would take appropriate measures against such filth.”
For the first time, the old Marti sounded as if she was back in the room with Christy. But then Aunt Marti shifted her attention back to Christy and said, “You were saying?”
“Switzerland was wonderful,” Christy said. “Thanks for all you did to work it out so I could go there.”
“Of course. No need to thank me.”
“It was a difficult year in some ways, but definitely worth it.”
“Good,” Marti stated firmly, sounding like a hammer driving a nail into a board. “Now, you’re probably wondering about the changes in me.”
That was a quick summary of my last year!
“Christina, I never would have imagined this, but it turns out I’m somewhat of an artist. It all began when I met Cheyenne at an art show in Laguna Beach. He invited me to one of his pottery classes, and no one was more surprised than I was to discover that I have substantial talent in that area. Cheyenne sponsored me into the Colony.”
“Aunt Marti, it sounds like you’ve been pulled into a cult of some sort.”
“A cult? Why, there’s nothing religious at all about the Colony. We’re a group of artists. Mutual spirits who find expression in the creation of beauty. Believe me, I don’t want anything to do with religion. Ever since your uncle had his born-again experience last summer, the man has been impossible to live with. He has a mistress, you know. He left me for her.”
Christy couldn’t hide her shock. She knew Uncle Bob’s conversion to Christianity had been a radical change since he had been such an outspoken agnostic before coming to Christ. But he wouldn’t turn against the Lord so quickly and have an affair, would he? How could he?
“Don’t look so stunned, dear. I??
?m referring to the church. Bob’s mistress is the church. He goes to her every chance he gets and talks about her all the time. He and I have less and less in common. These past few months he’s tried to get me to give up the Colony, and I’ve tried to get him to give up the church. It seems we’ve reached an impasse.”
The petite waitress in a silk kimono arrived and knelt at their table. With a bow of her head, she served them soup in white ceramic bowls. They were instructed to drink it by holding the sides of the bowl with both hands instead of using a spoon.
Christy paused and prayed, wishing she were brave enough to pray aloud in front of her aunt like she used to do. Today her words felt as if they caught in her throat. The warm broth washed the words back down into someplace deep within Christy. If this wasn’t all so disturbing, she would think her aunt’s dramatic performance was humorous.
“When you come on pottery day to the Colony,” Marti said, “I want you to bring Todd. You can bring Katie, if you wish. And bring your friend with the curly blond hair. What’s her name? Sienna?”
“Sierra.”
“Ah yes, Sierra. Bring her, too. I’ll show all of you the pottery I’ve made. It has freed my inner self, Christina. Wait until you see my creations on display. You will be so proud of me.”
“Marti, I . . .” Christy tried to find the words to say she didn’t need to see pottery to feel proud of her aunt. And she didn’t want her aunt to dictate when she would kidnap Christy again, especially since this second kidnapping involved her friends.
“You don’t need to . . . I mean, I think . . .” Christy couldn’t form her thoughts.
The waitress appeared with a tray to clear the soup and present each of them with a plate of sushi, raw fish, complete with tiny bowls of sauce. Christy lost her appetite altogether. It was all she could do not to lose her soup.
Marti continued to talk as if Christy hadn’t even begun to say anything. “Now, before I tell you what I’m going to tell you next, I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Todd, not your mother. No one.”
Christy felt they had played games long enough, but she was so uncomfortable she guessed the only way to speed up this lunch would be to go along with whatever Marti said. With a slow nod, Christy acknowledged her aunt’s wish.