Restoreth My Soul (Psalm 23 Mysteries)
“Kyle, the one on TV?”
“Yeah, you know him?” Cindy asked.
“I’ve seen some of his shows,” Traci admitted. “He’s a real daredevil. I saw the one where he went over the waterfall in a rubber raft.”
“I thought I was going to strangle him when he did that. I hate that he takes such chances,” Cindy admitted.
“Some people are just like that I guess. It’s like they think they’re invincible. When I met Mark in college he was kind of that way.”
“What happened?”
“He became a cop. He saw firsthand that nobody is invincible,” Traci said. “It mellowed him out considerably and made him easier to live with in the process.”
“I don’t think that anything could mellow my brother out,” Cindy said.
Traci shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe someday something or someone will. Until then I’m sure he’s happy making millions of people happy.”
The waitress dropped off their drinks and some garlic bread.
“I don’t get why people love Kyle’s shows so much,” Cindy lamented once the woman had left.
“It’s the purest form of escapism there is,” Traci said. “Most of the people who watch his shows lead very structured, boring lives. They’re trying to live vicariously through him.”
“I guess.”
Traci smiled. “Trust me, I know, my family are all huge fans.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. In fact when you saved me from the kidnappers I made sure all of them knew that it was Kyle’s sister who saved me just so they would be even more impressed.”
Normally that would have aggravated Cindy further, but somehow she just found it funny. “I didn’t take you for the name dropping type.”
Traci rolled her eyes. “With my family if you have a name you have to drop it. That’s the only way to shake them up and get their attention. My older sister saw Chuck Norris in an airport once and she led every conversation with that for two months. Anything and everything you could possibly say somehow reminded her of seeing Chuck Norris.”
Cindy laughed. “Well, what do you expect? It’s Chuck Norris. He can do anything, including giving your sister a good story. I’m just surprised she didn’t say something like ‘Chuck Norris doesn’t fly in planes, he flies next to them.’”
“That’s a good one,” Traci said. “Or how about Chuck Norris doesn’t fly in planes, he flies by himself and carries the plane on his back.”
“I love it.”
“I’d tell Amber, but I don’t want to hear her repeat it a thousand times in the next few weeks.”
“You called Amber your older sister. Do you have a younger one?” Cindy asked as she took a bite of garlic bread.
Traci’s expression changed. Her skin tightened up and she looked colder, more distant. Cindy knew instantly that she’d accidentally hit a nerve. She could relate. For years she had freaked out any time someone had mentioned her sister.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just...Lizzie and I have never been that close. She’s twelve years younger than I am and I left for college when she was still little. We ended up having a fight last Christmas which didn’t do anything to improve the relationship.”
“I’m sorry,” Cindy said.
“Yeah. She’s always been into trying new things and I’m really not happy with some of her recent choices.”
“You want to talk about it?” Cindy asked.
Traci gave her a strained smile. “We’re here to talk about you, remember?”
“Yeah, but they don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
Traci nodded. “She started playing around with Wicca a couple of years ago. I was okay with it, I mean, it seems like a lot of college girls go through that phase. We grew up in a house without any sort of religion so I got that she was curious and wanted to experiment.”
“But something changed?” Cindy guessed.
“Yeah. She used to sound more like a hippie than anything else, you know, ‘Respect Mother Earth’, ‘You get back what you put out into the universe’, ‘Love all the creatures and respect that bug by not squashing it.’ Then, when I saw her at Christmas she was definitely not hippie-esque. She was dark, moody, talked more about spells and power. She even bragged about putting a curse on her ex-boyfriend.”
Cindy’s stomach tightened. “That’s not good,” she muttered.
“No, and I told her so. The argument escalated and I don’t know what would have happened if Amber hadn’t stepped in.”
“Did she mention Chuck Norris?” Cindy asked, trying to bring a little levity.
Traci laughed. “Actually she did! She reminded us about seeing him in an airport and was about to tell us how he would handle conflict resolution. Lizzie just stormed out of the house at that point. She came back later, but we didn’t talk.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. I’m just worried about her at this point, you know? I’ve called her a couple of times, made sure to let her know that she could talk to me if she wanted to.”
“Then you’ve done what you could.”
“I guess,” Traci said, looking miserable. “I just wish there was more that I could do.”
“If you want I’d be happy to add her to my prayer list.”
“You’d do that?” Traci asked, looking surprised.
“Sure, I’d be happy to,” Cindy said. “It sounds like she could use some prayer. Actually it sounds like you both could.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Traci said, wiping at her eyes. She laughed nervously. “That’s the first time someone’s ever offered to pray for me.”
“Really?” Cindy asked, taken aback by the thought.
“Really. It’s very sweet. I appreciate it.”
Several replies popped into Cindy’s head, but she opted to go with the simplest one. “You’re welcome,” she said with as much compassion as she could put into her voice.
Traci laughed again and picked up her napkin to wipe her eyes. “Okay, enough about me and my crazy sister.”
“And my crazy brother,” Cindy said with a grin.
Traci picked up her water glass. “A toast.”
Cindy picked up her soda glass.
“To my crazy sister and your crazy brother. May they never meet.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Cindy said, clinking glasses with her.
They continued talking, but lunch was over far too soon. As Cindy left and drove back to the church she prayed for Traci and her sister, Lizzie. She couldn’t help but feel sorrow for both of them.
As she pulled into the church parking lot she glanced over at the synagogue. She wondered how Jeremiah was doing with the translation. She still felt terrible about hitting him and a little nervous to see him again because of it. She was just going to have to get over that, though. She planned to join him at the house after work and bring dinner again.
She parked, stepped out of her car, and froze. Something didn’t feel right to her. She turned around, eyes sweeping over the few cars that were in the parking lot. She saw the normal cars there that staff members drove and a couple of other cars that she recognized that belonged to some of the ministry leaders and volunteers.
There, in the back of the parking lot, was a dark car with tinted windows that she didn’t recognize. She knew it hadn’t been there when she left for lunch. She stared at it, wondering why someone had parked as far away from the church building as they could. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she felt the urge to get back in her car, lock the doors, and drive away quickly.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. This had to just be paranoia. It was the PTSD rearing its head.
There is nothing wrong or sinister about that car, she thought.
She didn’t believe herself.
She was parked right up next to the building. It was only a few steps toward the entrance. She
couldn’t just stand there in the parking lot all day and leaving was ridiculous.
She took a step toward the entrance, then another, feeling panicky as she left the safety of her car behind.
She was almost at the entrance when she heard an engine rev. She twisted around and saw the car driving toward her. She tensed, getting ready to flee, but it turned and headed for the exit. A moment later it was gone.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she whispered.
She headed through the gate area and was soon walking past the sanctuary. She could hear people talking inside. Across the way she saw someone walking into the gym. She walked up to the office door. She could hear laughter coming from one of the classrooms across the way.
You see, everything is perfectly normal here, there’s nothing to get upset about.
A piercing scream caused her to jump.
“That’s it!” she heard Geanie shriek inside the office a moment later.
Cindy paused just outside the door, wondering what on earth was going on.
“I quit!” Geanie screamed.
The door flew open and her roommate ran past her crying.
7
So much for normal, Cindy thought, as she turned to see where Geanie was running to. Her friend was making a beeline for the parking lot and after only a moment’s hesitation Cindy chased after her.
“Geanie, wait!” she called.
The other woman didn’t slow up, though. By the time Cindy made it to the parking lot, Geanie was already speeding away. She stood for a moment watching her car as it left the parking lot. Then she glanced around nervously, checking to see if the black car from earlier had returned.
It wasn’t there which made her feel a little bit better as she stood debating what to do. Should she go after Geanie? She didn’t even know if she was heading home or somewhere else, though.
She pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed Geanie’s phone. After several rings it went to voicemail.
“It’s Cindy. Call me and tell me where you are. I want to help.” She hung up feeling frustrated and useless.
She turned on her heel and headed back to the office. Maybe she could at least find out what had happened. As she neared the office door she heard raised voices. Before she could go inside Dave quickly walked up to her and shook his head.
“Come with me to the Youth Room,” he said.
Cindy hesitated for only a moment before following him. She didn’t know who was arguing in the office, but she did know that she didn’t want to be a part of it. Once inside the Youth Room Dave closed the door and led her through the large room which had scattered couches and massive pillows and beanbag chairs all over the floor.
In the very back of the room was his office and she took a seat on the couch as he collapsed into the chair behind his desk. It was only then that she realized that his hands were shaking.
“Dave, what happened?” she asked, leaning forward.
“Geanie quit.”
“I heard her yell that, but I don’t know why. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.”
He grabbed a bottle of antacids off his desk and popped a couple in his mouth. After he had finished chewing he looked at her. “Royus.”
She stared, waiting for more of an explanation.
“They’ve been going at it for the last hour or so.”
“Was this about the Christmas program still?”
“Yes. Neither side is giving an inch. They’ve both dug trenches and are settling in.”
“No compromise in sight?”
“None,” he confirmed. “And then, then they decided to actually fight about how they were going to handle advertising this year.”
“Oh no!” Cindy said, her hand flying to her mouth. “I was kidding when I said they were going to take it out on her. She’s usually the only bulletproof person on staff.”
“Well, apparently she showed up to work today without her magic, bullet stopping vest. She offered a solution that would meet both of their needs and instead of thanking her they both lit into her, accusing her of playing favorites.”
“What happened after she said she quit?”
“Roy said she’d always been a flake and Gus said that in a couple of months she’d be marrying a rich guy who could take care of her so there was no need to worry about her.”
“You’re kidding me,” Cindy whispered.
“I wish I was.”
“This is ridiculous. Their feud is tearing us apart.”
“I know.”
“First it’s going to decimate the staff and next the church.”
“I know.”
“We have to find a way to stop them.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Dave said fervently. “I just don’t know what that is at this point.”
A text came in on Cindy’s phone. She grabbed it out of her purse and looked at the screen. It was a message from Geanie. I’m home, it read.
Cindy felt a little bit of relief. Geanie had been in no condition to be driving or wandering around by herself. At least she was somewhere safe which gave her a couple of minutes to think about what her next move should be.
Somewhere not that far off a door slammed hard enough that it shook the building.
“I guess one of them has left,” Dave noted.
Cindy stood. “I’m taking the rest of the day off. I need to go be with Geanie.”
“Okay, but what about the office?”
Cindy grabbed a piece of paper and a black marker off Dave’s desk and wrote Closed for the rest of the day on it. Next she grabbed a couple of pieces of tape and headed out of Dave’s office.
He stood and followed her through the Youth Room. “I agree it’s the right thing to do, but Roy will be upset.”
Cindy clenched her jaw. “Then he and Gus both just have to learn to live with the consequences of their actions.”
She left the room and moments later she was taping the sign on the front of the office door. She walked in, saw that there was no one inside and turned off the coffee pot and the lights. Then she headed back out, locking the door behind her.
She marched out to the parking lot and got in her car. She stared at the entrance to the church for a moment, debating about locking the gates, but decided whoever was there last could handle that matter.
She knew she should tell Roy that she was leaving, but this was her own private act of rebellion. Besides, she reasoned, seeing him while they were both this upset would be a dangerous thing. Who knew what she might actually say to him.
He would figure it out for himself soon enough. In the meantime, she had a friend to take care of.
Minutes later she was walking in the door of her house. Geanie was already in pajamas sitting on the couch in the living room with an entire tub of cookie dough ice cream.
Cindy kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse on the table and went to sit beside her. Wordlessly Geanie handed her an extra spoon.
Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door. Cindy got up to answer it. Joseph was standing there wearing golfing clothes. He came in and made a beeline for Geanie. He sat down on her far side and she handed him a third spoon.
She was prepared, Cindy couldn’t help but think as she sat back down and reclaimed her spoon.
They made it to the bottom of the tub of ice cream before any of the three of them said a word. Geanie took the last bite, set the empty carton down on the coffee table, and leaned back against the couch.
“This sucks,” she said.
It was like a spell had been broken. Both Cindy and Joseph started asking questions at the same time.
Geanie cleared her throat. “There’s nothing either of you can do.”
“Dave told me what happened,” Cindy said.
Geanie nodded, looking miserable. “What happened after I left?”
Cindy bit her lip. She didn’t want to tell her what Dave said Roy and Gus had said upon her departure. “I, uh, closed the office for the rest of the day,” she
said finally.
Geanie nodded and then glanced at Joseph. “Did I interrupt your game?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “It was just business. It can wait. In fact, if you want, I could reschedule the next few days and we could go to Disneyland Paris or something cool.”
“Don’t you have a bunch of things you have to do in the next couple of weeks?” Geanie asked.
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“What about the dog show?”
Joseph bred and raised champion poodles.
He shook his head. “Clarice could use a break.”
“What about the art auction?”
“I have more than enough art already?”
“What about that play we were going to go see?”
“We can see it some other time.”
Geanie nodded, but didn’t say anything else to him. She turned to look at Cindy. “Why do they have to be like that?” she asked.
Cindy shook her head. “They’ve been like that since I first got there. I don’t know why, I’m just tired of it hurting everyone but them.”
Geanie nodded again and turned to stare at the empty carton of ice cream.
“Who wants some mint cookies and cream? There’s some in the fridge.”
Jeremiah was tired. He had finished the top of the second wall that morning and he was grateful that he was able to ditch the ladder again for a while. Of course, when he got to the bottom of the wall he’d be sitting on the ground again, scooting along as he read. Heinrich certainly hadn’t made this easy.
All the worrying he was doing about Cindy wasn’t helping either. He was going to call her after work and see how she was. He couldn’t spend a lot of time on the phone, but he could at least check in.
His thoughts shifted to what he had found in the master bedroom the night before. A panel from the Amber Room, it had to be. In 2003 a replica of the room had been made and installed at the Tsarskoye Selo State Museum Reserve outside of St. Petersburg. He had seen it once, marveling at the beauty and the intricacy of detail.
Several different groups had been hunting for the real Amber Room after it was lost in 1943. It had last been known to have been at the Königsberg's castle museum in Germany where it had been on display before the museum’s director, Alfred Rohde, was told to crate it back up and remove it. It was boxed up and several months later the castle was destroyed by an allied bombing raid. Some believed the Amber Room had been destroyed in that raid but no pieces of wreckage from it had been recovered. Others believed it had already been moved, but theories abounded as to where it could have gone. It was just possible that part of it, or maybe even all of it, had ended up somehow in America. Stranger things had happened and he had been a witness to many of them.