FALL
TO EDEN
By
Katherine Padilla
Book
1 of
DOMINION
OVER THE EARTH
Published
by Novaun Novels at
Copyright
© 2003
Katherine
Padilla.
This e-book is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.5. This document may be reproduced for personal non-commercial use as long as the text is not altered in any way and the byline and copyright notice are included on every copy.
Fall
to Eden is a work of fiction. The characters and plots are products of the
author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely
coincidental.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1:
MESSIAH OR ANTI-CHRIST?
Chapter 4:
DR. CARROLL'S LITTLE PANTHER
Chapter 5:
THE QUEEN OF DANCE MEETS THE KING OF CLASS
Chapter 6:
THE RELUCTANT BISHOP
Chapter 8:
THE KING OF CLASS ENCHANTS THE QUEEN OF DANCE
Chapter 9:
THE RING AND THE BLESSING
Chapter 11:
A SWEET, SAINTLY GIRL
Chapter 16:
THE FAMILY FROM MARS
Chapter 17:
THE FANATIC AND THE CHARISMATIC INTELLECTUAL
Chapter 19:
THE DEVOTED KNIGHT
Chapter 23:
THE FINAL METERS OF THE RACE
Chapter 25:
PRECARIOUS POSITION
Chapter 28:
A WOLF OR A RABID DOG?
Chapter 32:
UNCONDITIONAL LOVE
Chapter 34:
ALIVE UNDER THE LIGHT
Chapter 37:
GOVERNOR AND QUEEN
Chapter 38:
RESCUE OF THE BRIGADE
2. GLOSSARY
OF LDS TERMS AND DOCTRINES
3. GLOSSARY
OF FANTASY IDEAS AND TERMS
To Steve, who understands the twists and
turns of his alien wife's brain better than anyone and will know where all of
this wild stuff comes from.
First of all, I'd like to thank my friend
Amy Merrill, who read this novel as I wrote it and happily submitted to my
"price"--filling out pages of detailed questions that helped me
understand what worked and what didn't. She spotted several significant
problems early on, which saved me a great deal of time and made the novel much
better than it would have been otherwise.
I also want to thank my brother, Doug
Hedrick. As a member of a bishopric in Johnson County, Kansas, he was able to
give me an educated speculation on where a temple could be built in the Kansas
City, Kansas area.
I can't neglect to thank my husband Steve,
who dragged me kicking and screaming into the Computer Age. Without his support
and expertise, publishing my work online would not have been an option.
Last, thanks to Cari Clark, my editor and
friend since 1985. Her sharp literary insight helped me hammer this novel into
shape, and her attention to detail aided me in buffing it to a satisfactory
sheen. If my work has any sophistication at all, it's because of her!
This novel is not typical apocalyptic
fiction. It does not attempt to present realistic speculation on the events
leading up to the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. I haven't consulted scholarly
documents that analyze the scriptural accounts of the Last Days, nor have I
attempted to dramatize true spiritual experiences of real people. Moreover, I
will declare, once and for all, that the wild stuff that happens in Fall to Eden is just that--wild stuff.
My work may be serious in tone, but it is fantasy. Period.
If you think you would enjoy getting lost
in a world inhabited by a twenty-year-old Mormon bishop, a seductively innocent
empath, a priggish planet-spirit, and an alien emperor who claims to be a
direct descendant of the resurrected Jesus Christ, read on. I've even provided
a glossary containing both Mormon and fantasy terms to make your reading
experience smoother. If, on the other hand, you consider such radical ideas
sacrilegious, this novel is not for you. If you think the great anti-Christ of
the Last Days may really turn out to be an alien, you've probably been reading too much fantasy and need reading
material that is significantly more substantial than my novel. The scriptures
would be a good place to start.
Oh, and one other thing. Please don't quote
from Fall to Eden in church. That
kind of notoriety would destroy my credibility as a faithful, doctrinally
literate mother in Zion. I've worked hard to cultivate that image, and one has
to keep up appearances!
Katherine
Padilla
March
2002
And the Lord called his people ZION, because
they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was
no poor among them.
Moses
7:18
The Pearl of Great Price
And the Lord called his people ZION,
because they expressed themselves equally and received equal education, and
gained equal edification through regular facilitation with a qualified
therapist; and there were no poor or dissatisfied among them because they were
all equally employed.
Thesis
of Psychological Keys to Building Zion
By
Benjamin Carroll, Ph.D.
The Divine One stood near the boardroom
window-wall, an arm folded across His waist and a hand absently stroking His
chin. He seemed oblivious to everything but the severely damaged condition of
so many of the seventy-eight ships that remained in His space fleet.
Admiral of the Fleet Harman Sanzanal halted
for a moment near the polished wood table, unnerved to see his Master so
troubled. In the eighteen years Tohmazz Zarr had held the title of Divine
Emperor, Sanzanal had never seen Him present anything but the calmest and most
confident of exteriors, no matter how bleak the circumstances seemed.
As Sanzanal moved toward the Divine One, He
turned, His luxuriant angel-white curls brushing against the spirit crystals
that embellished his purple cape. His eyes, the icy gray of diamonds, studied
Sanzanal's face, His spirit touching Sanzanal's as He communicated
telepathically. Is our situation as grave
as it appears?
Far worse, Divine One. Only forty-eight
thousand people remain of our Nation. Eleven thousand of those are warriors,
and a mere two hundred and eighty-one comprise the Aristocracy. The Nobility
has dwindled to sixty-two.
Sanzanal could feel the Divine One's spirit
shudder in mortification and indignation. In all three hundred years of exile,
the Holy Nation of the Son of God had never been so desperate. With only
twenty-one warships, defending themselves against the smallest of the rival
fleets might prove fatal. It would be many years, perhaps decades, before the
Holy Nation could initiate an attack. How many more centuries would pass before
they were finally able to annihilate the infidel fleets and restore their
planet to its original glory?
Discerning something of Sanzanal's feelings
in their telepathic exchange, the Divine One communicated with passion, I will secure a planet, and you will have
your warriors, and with the aid of the Father, we will not only conquer the
infidel fleets, but the galaxy as well. Even the Novaunians will bow to the Son
of God incarnate.
Sanzanal thrilled at his Master's
declaration. Tohmazz Zarr was, indeed, the True Seed. What planet have you discovered that will provide me with these new
warriors?
Earth. A savage planet that is waiting for
a Messiah.
*
Sara Alexander tore open her letter and
read eagerly as she jogged past the dogwood tree, its crimson leaves fluttering
in the breeze. She laughed triumphantly as she rounded the corner of the garage
into the backyard.
Sara waved her letter at her parents, who
were sitting together on the wooden swing in a cluster of tall, thin trees.
"Two weeks from Sunday, President Grant will organize the Eden Colony
Ward. Of course we will sustain a bishop and his counselors." She was not
an apostate, and she would get her parents to admit it if it killed her.
Sara's mother grabbed the letter from Sara's
hand, her light brown eyebrows coming together in alarm as she read. Sara
reveled in the glory of being right. "You can't now claim the Church won't
support the colony." She turned away from her parents slightly and caught
the basketball her brother Josh had fired at her, tossing it back and forth
between her fingertips.
Her father studied the letter for a moment
as if taking a mental photograph, then looked up at Sara, his pale blue gaze
delving into her soul in that way it always did, seeming to say, "My big
brain records everything. I've read everything. I know everything. If you don't
do what I suggest, you're an idiot."
"You seem to be ignoring the fine
print, Sara. In this letter, the First Presidency makes it clear that the
Church will not support this new ward and makes a plea to you and all of the
other colonists to remain on Earth."
How could they be so dense? Why in the
galaxy would the Church organize a ward it had no intention of supporting?
"C'mon, Sara, shoot!"
As Sara shot the basketball at the taller
of the two hoops in the backyard, Rebecca and Daniel shot handfuls of black
walnuts. Emily knocked more of the small green orbs out of the tree with the
handle of a broken hoe.
Sara remembered how much she had once
enjoyed climbing the tree and shaking walnuts out of it. She turned to address
her parents again. "We're being discouraged from going, not forbidden, and
certainly not excommunicated. The Church will change its mind when the Brethren
see how successful we are."
"It's unlikely the Brethren will see
anything, since they will be here building Zion, on Earth, where they've told
us all to stay." Her mother's voice was tight and her dark eyes were
fierce, as if she were trying hard not to lose her temper.
Sara could feel her cheeks grow warm.
"But we're going to be building Zion, just as the prophet has counseled!
We're going to start with a virgin world, beautiful and perfect!" Sara
could hear Rebecca behind her, pounding the husks off of the walnuts with a
bat, the bat clicking whenever it hit the nut inside the husk. As the husks
flew, so did shrieks of delight.
Too Cool rubbed her white face against her
father's neck. Her father stroked the cat a little too hard, and she leapt out
of his arms with a screech. His eyes were bright with urgency. "Call me
paranoid, Sara, but it doesn't take a genius to see that the Church and its
allies in the Cooperative Communities are on the verge of withdrawing from Zarr's
influence."
"Our meetinghouses are being sold. We're
moving to temple communities. BYU has closed its doors--"
"Your point?" Her mother's
reference to Brigham Young University annoyed Sara. She had attended classes
there for two years and had run on the women's track team before she and all of
the other out-of-state students had been sent home. Her initial educational
plans had been ruined, and now her parents were trying to talk her out of going
to Eden to study journalism with Barbara Thomassen Carroll, one of the Baltimore Sun's finest columnists. Sara
clenched her teeth and her fists to keep herself in control. She would not let
them get to her.
"If you leave," her father said
quietly, "you may separate yourself from the blessings of the Church for
the rest of your mortal life. You will have a ward organization as long as it
lasts, but you will never have a temple. You have no idea what you would be
throwing away."
Sara shook her head, as if that gesture
would shake away any possibility that she could be moved by the seriousness of
her father's concern. Feeling abnormally hot, she removed her BYU track jacket
and hung it on the limb of a wild cherry tree. "Don't be ridiculous. In a
few years, Earth will have a glorious space fleet and interstellar travel will
be easy and inexpensive. Given the Church's determination to establish its
presence in every country and put a temple in every capital, it will certainly
follow us to Eden. The time will come when even you will want to visit!"
"That is assuming we're willing to
travel in ships built by Tohmazz Zarr," her father said.
"The same Tohmazz Zarr the Brethren
have been telling us to have no contact with for well over three years!"
her mother added, fanning her face with Sara's letter.
Zack climbed on the swing and held a
pulp-covered walnut under his mother's nose, his fingers stained yellow-green.
"Coconut, Mommy."
Her mother instinctively leaned against her
father. "Don't you come near me with that!"
"You know Tohmazz Zarr doesn't build
those ships himself. Holy Nation Technologies does, and most of the employees
are natives of Earth. That's hardly significant contact."
"Don't be stupid, Sara!" her
mother exploded.
"Why are you and Sara fighting,
Mommy?"
Matthew yanked the walnut out of Zack's
hand. "Give me that!"
"Aaron," her father called.
"Come and get Zack. Wipe off his hands and push him in the swing.
Please."
Aaron threw the basketball at Sara. She
caught it and tossed it in the direction of the hoops. "You know it's
impossible to completely avoid contact with them. They're everywhere! Unless
you live in a cave."
Sara had heard Tohmazz Zarr speak when he
had come to Harry Grove Stadium in Frederick more than a year ago, but she wasn't
ready to admit it. The prospect of seeing a real live alien, especially one
believed by his people to be a descendant of the resurrected Jesus Christ, had
been too tantalizing to resist. And the miracles he could do! He healed people
of terrible diseases and deformities and made deserts into gardens. The Delta
Center in Salt Lake City had been full when she heard Zarr speak there the
previous spring. Apparently she wasn't the only member of the Church who was
curious.
"What are we supposed to do? Kill them
all? That would certainly be the Christian thing to do."
"That's a rationalization, Sara, and
you know it."
"It's the truth, Mom, and you know
it!" Sara's heart raced, and her entire being felt as if it were on fire.
She knew that the Spirit was bearing witness to her of the validity of her
words. "They're Christians too!"
"Hardly!" her father gasped.
"Their claims are blasphemous! They worship an anti-Christ! Even
Christians who aren't members of our church recognize it! Antonio Vaccaro, that
Catholic priest from Baltimore, was one of the first to denounce Tohmazz Zarr
as an anti-Christ!"
Her father's outburst gratified Sara. It
wasn't like him. He was usually so placid. She would win her point yet.
"He can hardly be an anti-Christ when millions of former non-Christians
now accept Christ as their Savior!"
"The people to whom you're referring
are not converts of Christ, but converts of Zarr," her father countered.
"And the Guardians of Earth's
Governments is made up of plenty of people who are more believers in the
sovereignty of their nations than in God. Some of them are atheists! So why not
claim that the United States is the 'great and abominable church'? The 'mother
of all harlots'? 'Babylon the great?'"
"Zarr is the enemy, Sara," her
mother said in frustration. "Why can't you get that through your
head?"
"Tohmazz Zarr is no more the enemy
than that priest from Baltimore. Both are serving Christ according to the
dictates of their own consciences."
"Please, Sara. Don't be so
naïve." There was that big brain gaze again. Her father seemed to be
weighing something in his mind.
Her mother gripped his arm as if trying to
restrain him, yet she looked as if she were the one determined to throw Sara to
the ground and lock her in handcuffs. "There may be some Zarrists who are
honorable and sincere, who really are worshiping God in the best way they know
how, but that doesn't change the fact that as a race, they're dangerous to
us."
Finally her father said, his voice grave,
"There are very few people on this planet who understand how dangerous the
Zarrists really are. The Brethren know what they're talking about, Sara. And so
do discerning people like Antonio Vaccaro and even some of those atheists you're
so quick to condemn."
As if her father were one of the few who
did understand how supposedly dangerous the Zarrists were. That was one thing
her father couldn't have learned from all of those books at the Library of
Congress. "The fact still remains that it's impossible to avoid
them."
Her mother's grip on her father's arm
loosened. "Did it ever occur to the leader of your colony to find out why,
if the Zarrists want the planet colonized, they haven't done it themselves? Or
why such a beautiful planet is uninhabited?"
"I'm sure Dr. Carroll has asked all of
those questions. He is an amazing leader."
"Only because he has an 'amazing'
son!" Josh called as the basketball hit the backboard.
Sara would not allow her brother to destroy
her credibility with talk of Cameron Carroll, even if Cameron was on a mission
and wouldn't be joining his family on Eden for at least another two years, when
the first exchange of colonists would take place. Feeling hotter than ever,
Sara slipped her blue hair elastic off of her wrist and twisted her hair into a
messy bun. Refusing to acknowledge her brother's taunt, she said to her
parents, "Even you can't ignore Dr. Carroll's qualifications."
Sara's mother shot her father a meaningful
look and smirked. "Yeah, Psychological
Keys to Building Zion. That's a real winner." She began folding Sara's
letter into a paper airplane.
"It was an excellent book, and so were
all of the others."
Sara's father waved his hand in a
dismissive way. "Psychobabble mixed with scripture." Too Cool jumped
into his lap, trying to regain his attention.
Her mother aimed the airplane letter at the
walnut harvesters. "His books rank right up there with Cain's Sandal Size and Other Vital Gospel Doctrines."
Sara snatched her letter from her mother's
fingertips. Where did she come up with these absurd titles? Did she lie in bed
at night and dream them up? What intellectual stimulation! She couldn't help
but observe that Barbara Thomassen Carroll created real titles for real books
and articles that were read by real people.
"And What I Learned about the New Testament by Sleeping in a Bed Belonging
to the Prophet's Brother," her father added with a nod.
Sara had never been so irritated by her
parents' hobby of dreaming up parodies of book titles. "He has degrees in
both business and organizational psychology, and he and his firm have been
bringing emotional healing, ethics, and cooperative management to organizations
all over the world for years!"
"Hauling in the bucks by working as a
consultant for Holy Nation Technologies, you mean," her mother declared.
"While plenty of others with similar
credentials have refused to do business with the Zarrists, consecrated their
wealth to the Church, and moved into temple communities," her father
added.
"But Dr. Carroll is such a powerful
influence for good. How can you not see that? And he's been a bishop!"
Her father looked at her pointedly.
"Which makes his fall to apostasy all the more tragic."
Sara unfolded her letter and began
smoothing it between her fingers. "You have no idea what you're talking
about! You're not even a high priest. Dr. Carroll's a great man. Even the
Brethren realize it!" Sometimes she wished her father were more like Dr.
Carroll, more polished, more ambitious, more the dynamic spiritual leader.
"Carroll's personal righteousness or
lack of it has nothing to do with why the Church has finally consented to allow
the Eden Colony to be organized into a ward."
"You're wrong. The Church realizes we
are all good members of the Church who want to do our part creating Zion in a
unique way."
"No," her mother said, the swing
creaking as she began to rock, "the Church got tired of Carroll's nagging
and finally decided to give him what he wants."
How could she make them understand?
"Dr. Carroll did not nag. He simply bore witness to the fact that the Lord
wants him to lead this Zion colony on Eden." How could she convince them
that the Lord had called her, too, to be a part of this glorious new colony?
She had known her destiny lay in space for a year at least. "The prophet,
being the awesome spiritual giant he is, recognized the will of the Lord in
this matter and made it happen."
Her mother shook her head. "Joseph
Smith nagged the Lord to let Martin Harris take the first one hundred and
sixteen pages of the Book of Mormon manuscript--"
"What in the galaxy does that have to
do with anything?"
"Everything. You know the story. The
Lord finally agreed, the manuscript was stolen, and the prophet lost the
ability to translate for some time. If we nag the Lord long and loudly enough,
He may just give us what we want."
"I can't believe how ignorant you are.
I'll go to Eden if I have to walk to
the spaceport.
*
Trendaul Alexander hung a handful of shirts
and dresses in the closet. Teri, his wife, set a basket of folded clothes on
the floor. Instead of tossing her earrings into the jewelry box and collapsing
on the bed as she usually did, she carefully removed her earrings and placed
them on an earring tree. Trendaul knew she was upset when she actually began
putting the clothes away.
Trendaul sat down in the light brown swivel
rocker next to the bed and took off his shoes. Worry fogged his mind and
confusion paralyzed him. He didn't know what to do or what to say.
Teri forced two pairs of jeans into an
already stuffed drawer. "I can't believe the Church is actually going to
organize those people into a ward."
Trendaul, too, wondered why the Church
planned to take this unprecedented step. He had not been able to think about
anything else all evening. Perhaps Sara was correct in her opinion that the
Church would eventually follow the colony into space. He couldn't help but
believe, as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise for Sara's sake,
that when the Eden Colony left Earth, they would be separating themselves from
Zion forever. "It does complicate matters."
Teri removed the red claw clip from her
hair, the ringlets falling to her shoulders. Her hair color had never been
"dirty blond" to Trendaul as it was to his children. In the soft
light of their bedroom, her hair looked like gold, and it always moved,
mesmerizing him. Teri combed through her hair with her fingers and shook her
head. "She wouldn't go without a ward."
Sara's ability to believe she was a devout
member of the Church while accepting Zarr's propaganda sickened Trendaul.
"I'm not so sure anymore." He held his arm out to his wife, hoping
she would come to him.
Teri took his hand and allowed him to draw
her into his lap. "Then you're more convinced than ever that Zarr has a
telepathic hold on her mind."
"Yes," he whispered, laying his
head against her neck. How could he, of all people, have allowed this monster
to violate his own daughter?
"You're certain she can fight
it?" She didn't sound certain. Trendaul was relieved he could give her
hope on that level at least.
"Absolutely. She just doesn't want
to." Trendaul couldn't understand why Sara didn't want to fight the bond.
What was it about Eden that so enamored her? Or was it Benjamin and Barbara
Carroll and their accomplished, beautiful family she was in love with?
Teri stroked Trendaul's hair, ever so
gently, almost tentatively. "Perhaps it's time to give her a reason to
want to."
Trendaul knew what it had cost Teri to say
those words. She couldn't help but be afraid for him and for their family. He
looked up and gazed into those brown eyes that had always been so exotic and
yet so familiar. "You didn't want me to 'give her a reason to want to'
this afternoon."
"Of course I didn't. The thought of it
scares me to death."
It terrified Trendaul. In her present state
of mind, Sara might tell anyone. "I shouldn't tell her anything. I still
have a mission to finish."
Teri reached for the dresser and a tissue
to blow her nose. "A mission you may never be able to finish anyway."
Panic gripped Trendaul. "Don't say
that." What had happened to his compatriots? Why hadn't anyone contacted
him? If he relocated, they might not have time to find him and seven years'
worth of work would be lost. Even so, he dared not wait longer than the end of
the year to move his family to a temple community, either the one surrounding
the Washington, D.C. Temple or the one supporting the new temple in Olathe,
Kansas, where his wife's family resided.
Trendaul knew it was only a matter of time
before the countries of the Earth united to form the Federation of Earth
Nations, with Zarr's Holy Nation of the Son of God as the presiding nation.
Most Earthons believed that submitting to the leadership of this benevolent
alien nation, whose knowledge and experience was so much greater than theirs,
would enable their planet to take its rightful position in the interstellar
community in the least amount of time, gaining them unimaginable wealth,
influence, and new technology.
Once the United States became the first
nation to give up its sovereignty to join Zarr's
empire-disguised-as-an-innocuous-federation, all of those who shunned the
Zarrists would be in danger of being labeled as traitors and be
killed . . . or worse. Trendaul wanted to be safe inside a
temple community long before that happened.
Teri slid off of Trendaul's lap. "If
you don't tell Sara about her heritage and she goes to Eden, we'll both regret
it forever."
Trendaul knew Teri was right. "Are you
sure? Are you absolutely sure you want me to do this?"
"We have no other choice."
"Oh, I can think of a great many
choices."
Teri headed toward the bathroom. "Go
now, before I change my mind."
"She's probably asleep."
Teri spun around to face him again, her
fists on her hips. "Go! Or I'll tell her myself!"
Trendaul sat at the top of the steps with
his head in his hand at least five minutes before he gained the courage to
knock on Sara's bedroom door. "Please, Father," he said under his
breath, closing his eyes for an extra moment when he blinked. "Help
me."
The door opened slightly, and Sara peered
out with a scowl. "If you're here to reprimand me for going to Eden, I'm
not interested."
This was going to be a long night, and
seminary class would come all too early in the morning. "It isn't
that." He tried to add, "Not exactly," but his voice froze.
Sara had inherited his straight black hair
and his family's height, but her eyes, the velvety blue of morning glories, had
come from Krista. Sara's features, smooth and lively like those of a little
girl, softened into an expression so like Krista's that Trendaul's apprehension
melted. He could hear Sara's finger scratching the back of the door. "Then
what?"
Teri was right. He had to tell her. Krista
would have told her. "I have something . . .
critical . . . to tell you."
The door squeaked as Sara widened it. She
wore nylon shorts and a Kansas City Royals T-shirt sent by her grandparents
with the sleeves cut off and the crew collar cut out. Trendaul couldn't refrain
from laughing. Sara was such an Orioles fan that to wear the shirt at all, even
to bed, probably made her feel like a traitor.
Sara rolled her eyes and threw up her arms.
"Stop laughing at my shirt!" She turned and walked to her bed.
Trendaul followed her into the room,
closing the door behind him. He sat down on her bed, glancing at the art
posters attached to the walls. Krista had chosen the first few posters, and
Sara added new ones to the collection every time she visited an area art gallery.
Such a visible reminder of Krista gave him strength.
Sara slid under her quilt, which Teri had
constructed long ago from the fabric of old jeans, and pulled it to her chin.
Thankfully she was smiling. Trendaul knew that if he didn't tell her now, he
never would. "Do you remember how Josh, when he was about ten, used to
claim that he had been adopted? That he was really from Mars?"
Sara chuckled. "How could I forget
something so endearingly silly?"
"It was endearingly silly. And it was
also relatively close to being true." He couldn't count how often he and
Teri had laughed at the irony.
Sara became very still. "You mean he
really was adopted? Does that mean that I--"
"No. Neither one of you were adopted.
But Josh was right about one point." Trendaul hoped the tone of his voice
wasn't too mischievous. "His father is an alien."
Sara burst out laughing. Trendaul laughed
too. He couldn't have delivered that line in a serious tone if someone had held
a laser to his back. It really did sound ridiculous.
"I guess now I have an excuse not to
listen to you," Sara teased. "I wouldn't want to go against the
counsel of the prophet."
As if she needed an excuse! "The
prophet has only told us not to have contact with Zarr and his people. He's
never said anything about Novaunians."
"Zarrists . . .
Novaunians . . . what's the difference?"
All desire for lightheartedness fled.
"The primary difference is that Novaunians worship Christ. The Zarrists
worship an anti-Christ."
Sara stared at him in astonishment.
"You're serious, aren't you."
"I'm afraid so."
"Does Mom know?"
"Yes, of course. I told her long
before we were married. Your grandparents know too."
Sara's gaze found its way to the
reproduction of "Young Mother Sewing," by Mary Cassatt. "And my
real mother?"
"She was a Novaunian also."
Sara looked away, attempting to absorb this
new information.
"Coming to Earth, in fact, was your
mother's idea." Trendaul decided to leave it at that. Sara would ask the
questions she wanted answered.
Finally Sara's gaze met his. "Then I
have no Earth blood at all running through my veins."
"None whatsoever."
"Why did you wait so long to tell
me?"
Trendaul detected strain in her voice. Was
she angry? Betrayed? Or simply curious? "Because I couldn't take the
chance that you might inadvertently tell someone."
"Which means you're in a certain
amount of danger."
Trendaul had longed for years to live as a
Novaunian openly. "I'm in a considerable amount of danger. If Tohmazz Zarr
finds out who I am, he'll kill me."
"Oh, that's ridiculous! He's no
murderer!"
"All right. He's no murderer. He would
try to 'cleanse' my mind the way he has 'cleansed' the minds of so many of the
world's criminals. Zarr's 'cleansing' is nothing less than telepathic slavery.
Since I will never allow Zarr or anyone else to break my mind, I would probably
die resisting. Either way, I'm a dead man."
Sara relaxed against the back of the bed
and folded her arms. "Are your people at war, then, with Zarr's
people?"
"Yes, in a manner of speaking. Our
people are at war with the Zarrists and the many other Diron nations the way
the early Americans were at war with pirates on the open seas." Or at
least he believed they were still at war. A lot could have changed in twenty
years. He had no doubt, though, that Zarr and his people were Dirons.
Sara's eyes shone with fascination.
"So what do they supposedly steal?"
"Arelada. The Dirons call it spirit
crystal."
"It's that strange, slightly luminous
crystal they all wear in their clothing and jewelry, isn't it? Why is it so
valuable?"
"It makes telepathy possible. With
telepathy, Zarr is able to create mind bonds with people who hear him
speak."
Sara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Trendaul tried to keep his explanation
simple. "When Zarr speaks, he uses a telepathic process to expand his
spirit to embrace all who are listening. It makes the listeners feel wonderful,
as if they're communicating with God. Through this process, Zarr telepathically
gains control of one brain cell. With this bond, the listener then becomes
vulnerable to Zarr's telepathic suggestions."
Sara shook her head quickly. "But that
doesn't make any sense! If arelada is required for telepathic communication,
how can Zarr mind-bond with people like me who don't have arelada?"
"Arelada is required to transmit
thoughts and to expand one's spirit. To receive thoughts, however, all a person
has to do is open his mind."
"Have you heard Zarr speak?"
Trendaul could hear the accusation in her
voice. "No, I haven't." He could have listened to Tohmazz Zarr speak
without being affected, and he would have gained much useful information for
Novaun by attending a speech, but he refused to live a double standard with his
children. "The process I described is an old one and illegal on most
planets." The old Latanzan monarchy had been overthrown many centuries ago
for using it on its citizens, and there had been a time, over a thousand years
ago, when Gudynean parents had used it to keep their children obedient.
"So what makes you think Zarr uses
it?"
"Because it's the only thing I can
think of that explains why he has gained such an enormous following among such
diverse people in such a short period of time."
"Well, he has not used it on me!"
"You did hear him speak,"
Trendaul said gingerly. If he made her angry now, he might never regain her
attention. "Your mother found the base ship key ring."
"All right. I have heard him speak.
Who hasn't? He doesn't control my mind."
Trendaul shook his head. Too quickly,
perhaps. He wanted too much to pacify her. "No, of course he doesn't. You're
no eslavu who has had her mind drained. If he has created a telepathic bond
with you, he has certainly gained significant influence over you, but he can't
force you to do anything. You can fight it."
"You think he has, don't you? That's
why you're telling me all of this stuff now." The pitch of Sara's voice
rose and the color of her cheeks changed from milk-white to pink. "You
think you can use this new information to persuade me to stay home. How dare
you!"
"Listen to yourself, Sara!" She
would hear the truth before she ordered him out of her room. "I tell you
that both you and I are of Novaunian race, and instead of asking me why I came
to Earth or what kind of planet Novaun is, the only topic you want to discuss
is Tohmazz Zarr. What am I supposed to think?"
"Why did you come to Earth?" Sara
demanded, as if embarking on an interrogation.
Trendaul didn't like Sara's tone, but he
wanted her to know something of himself and Novaun. "To telepathically
record Earth's most significant records. My job was to record the obscure
material. Your mother recorded documents from the local libraries and the
Internet."
He could see that his explanation made
sense to her. She and the other children, along with almost everyone else he
knew, had always believed he was an employee of the Library of Congress. She
rolled her eyes. "Which explains why you always think you know so
much."
Trendaul chose to ignore that statement.
"On Novaun, people with my particular telepathic skills are called
librarians. Your real mother was a librarian also. We studied together."
"Will you ever go back to
Novaun?"
"I don't know."
"Why don't you know?"
"I haven't had contact with another
Novaunian for many years."
"Can't you just send thought waves to
Novaun and tell them you want to go home?"
Trendaul shook his head. "It would take
many people to transmit a message over that distance and far more arelada than
I possess."
The interrogation act disappeared for a
moment. Sara leaned toward him, her eyes widening. "You actually have some
arelada? May I see it?"
Trendaul again shook his head. "I put
it in a safe box when the Zarrists arrived."
She smirked. "Did Novaun forget about
you?"
Trendaul was determined not to let her
provoke him. "Not likely."
"Then why doesn't someone come and
offer you a ride home?"
"The presence of Tohmazz Zarr's fleet
in Earth's space territory makes that more difficult." Still, it wouldn't
be impossible. What was keeping his compatriots?
"Why did Novaun send you here
secretly? Why didn't the Novaunians make public contact with Earth twenty years
ago?"
"Since Earth is on the verge of
passing into terrestrial glory, Novaun doesn't see a need to ever have dealings
with it in any kind of official way."
After living on Earth for twenty years,
Trendaul believed Novaun's policy was naïve. A race that preferred to stroll
along the scenic route to the grocery store could not possibly understand a
race that sprinted to the exotic unknown at light speed. Earth would make its
mark in space before God took it back into His presence, like an explosion in
the night sky on the Fourth of July. And if a significant number of natives
became proficient in telepathy, Earth would become especially volatile.
Trendaul could only pray that the Novaunian government realized Earth's
potential as a destructive force before too many good Fleet men lost their
lives.
"Novaunians know the prophecies?"
Sara asked in surprise.
"Yes, of course. The Council of
Prophets canonized the Standard Works of the Church several decades ago. The
New Testament, in particular, is precious to us."
"So Novaunians believe that the Savior
visited them after His resurrection in the same way He visited the Nephites on
the American Continent."
"Yes, but He didn't take a Novaunian bride and with His perfect, glorified body
father a dynasty of so-called divine emperors!" Trendaul shuddered at the
thought. Tohmazz Zarr's claim was as disgusting as it was preposterous, and he
couldn't blame the Dirons for throwing the Zarrists out of power.
"I know the Zarrists have their
faults, but you'll have to admit, they are fascinating. And they have a lot to
offer."
"They offer telepathic slavery. Is
that what you want?"
"Zarr and his people have been here
for more than three years. If they really are so dangerous, why hasn't Novaun
changed its policy about official contact and warned us?"
Why was she so determined to discredit
Novaun? Was that the mind bond as well? "The Brethren, along with
perceptive people of other belief systems, have been warning us about Zarr ever
since he arrived. If Earthons refuse to listen to the prophet and other leaders
in their respective communities, why should they listen to the
Novaunians?"
"Why didn't Novaun stop Zarr and his
people from making contact?"
"I doubt Novaun even knew Zarr made
contact until well after it happened."
"Couldn't Novaun have stationed a
fleet here to guard us?"
"Even Novaun has a limit to its
resources."
"Doesn't Novaun care that this
supposedly evil anti-Christ is taking advantage of a planet too primitive to
fight back?"
"Novaunians do what they can to help
other races, but they can't be everywhere all the time and they don't even try.
They do take comfort in the knowledge that God will warn His other children of
danger in the ways best suited to them. They assume Earthons are smart enough
to listen to those warnings." Trendaul knew Sara would take his statement
as a personal attack, but it was the truth.
Sara glared at him. "Obviously, Novaun
cares quite a bit less about Earth than Zarr's Holy Nation does. Novaun only
observes, while Zarr and his people work hard to help us into space."
"Zarr's motives are far from
altruistic, I assure you."
"And Novaun's motives seem even less
altruistic."
Trendaul winced to hear Novaun so
ignorantly attacked. "How can I make you understand? Novaun is a great
Union of over two thousand planets. It's Zion on a galactic level. Novaun isn't
perfect, but it's achieved a level of righteousness as a society beyond
anything you've ever dreamed of."
"Then you're even more of a hypocrite
than I thought you were."
What bitter irony! The information Trendaul
had hoped would change Sara's mind was making her more determined than ever. He
mentally chastised himself for not anticipating that twist.
"You've been telling me for months
that I shouldn't go to Eden, and now I find out that you left your home
planet--not just any planet, but a Zion planet--when you were about my age and
haven't been back since."
"I did not leave Novaun against the
counsel of the High Prophet." The argument always seemed to come back to
that.
"But you did leave your family,
perhaps for the rest of your mortal life. How could you do that?"
"My mission here was only supposed to
last ten years. When the convoy came back to Earth ten years ago, your mother
wasn't ready to leave her family yet. To be honest, I wasn't ready to leave
either. I'm still not sure I want to return to Novaun." As much as he
missed his family, he wasn't sure he could give up his freedom, or the temple,
or the feeling that Earth needed him far more than Novaun did.
"Why not?"
A true answer to that question would have
taken all night, so Trendaul gave his daughter the shortened version. "I
like working in the temple too much."
"There aren't any temples on
Novaun?"
"On the contrary. Our houses of
worship are large and individually designed, and there are sacred rooms in
every one of them to do the higher ordinances. Novaunians do live ordinances,
but there is no work to do for the dead. It's all been done."
"No way!"
Trendaul nodded. "It's true."
"If Novaun is so righteous, why hasn't
it been taken into heaven like the City of Enoch?"
"It will help you to think of the most
misquoted scripture in the Church."
"'Unto whom much is given much is
required?'"
Trendaul nodded. "Novaun has been
given some interesting blessings that haven't been given to Earth. Obviously
Novaunians haven't, as a race, done everything that is required of them
yet."
"What interesting blessings?"
"First of all, while still in our
premortal state, we didn't have a War in Heaven. We had a Great Debate. While
one out of three spirits assigned to be born on Earth were cast out of Heaven
with Lucifer, only one out of a hundred spirits assigned to be born on Novaun
were cast out with the spirit we call Perdition."
Sara opened her mouth to respond but couldn't;
she was completely speechless.
"Adam and Eve were commanded to
multiply and replenish the earth. Novaun's first parents were commanded to
multiply and replenish the galaxy."
Sara finally found her voice. "That's
bizarre!"
Trendaul smiled. "You see, I really am
an alien."
"If I really am a Novaunian spirit,
doesn't that mean my desire to help colonize another planet is natural and
right?"
She was too quick, and Trendaul immediately
wished he hadn't told her about Novaun's first parents. Then again, perhaps if
he had revealed their Novaunian heritage long ago, he would have satisfied her
innate curiosity and she wouldn't have felt a need to seek out Tohmazz Zarr.
"Your desire is natural, I'll concede that, but the way you're going about
satisfying that desire is wrong."
"In your opinion."
"No. In the Lord's opinion."
"You are not the Lord!"
"No, but the prophet speaks for the
Lord, and he has told us all to remain on Earth."
"If he feels so strongly about it, why
is he going to organize us into a ward?"
"In my opinion, the Church is organizing the Eden Colony into a ward instead
of excommunicating its leaders because it wants to give those who go to Eden a
chance to repent. Once Eden is cut off from Zion, repentance will be difficult,
if not impossible without the official presence of the Church. I can only
assume the Church believes most of the colonists will follow Carroll to Eden
even if he is excommunicated."
"That's an interesting theory. And
very presumptuous."
Her smugness and stupidity hurt him. How
could this be his sweet little Sara? "The bishop won't be Benjamin Carroll
or any of his cohorts," Trendaul said wryly, "but will be a man who
is a true spiritual giant in every sense of the word. He'll have to be."
How the Church hoped to find such a man among the colonists, Trendaul had no
idea.
Trendaul stood to leave. "I know my
opinion doesn't matter much to you, but there it is." She only wanted to
argue, and he was sick of it.
Sara's face blanched and tightened, as if
she wanted to scream. She stared at him with wide, glistening eyes, then
lowered her head and rested her hand against her forehead.
"Goodnight," Trendaul said coolly
as he turned and headed toward the door. Expecting her to respond with a
disrespectful remark, he was surprised instead to hear a restrained little
gasp. He turned toward her again and asked quietly, "What's the
matter?"
She shook her head quickly, refusing to
answer.
Trendaul couldn't help but feel irritated.
It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to respond calmly, "I'd
really like to know."
When Sara lifted her head, Trendaul could
see that her eyes were filled with tears. "Your opinion does matter to
me."
Sara's reply didn't make sense, but
Trendaul knew it was sincere. He gazed at her blankly, trying to understand.
She averted her eyes in embarrassment.
Several moments passed before he could
reconcile Sara's concern about his opinion with her determination to go to Eden
against his wishes. He came to the conclusion that Sara's decision to go to
Eden had been final for many months. The arguments since then had done nothing
to persuade her to change her mind, but they had chipped away at the security
she had always felt in his love.
The decision took hold of him with such
immediacy that he didn't have time to feel frightened. "I understand why
you want to go to Eden." She looked up at him again cautiously as he
continued, "I think you're wrong to go, but if it means anything to you, I
believe your spiritual state is more one of confusion than apostasy, at least
for now."
Sara's eyebrows shot up. "Is that
supposed to make me feel better?"
"I guess that's up to you. I can't in
any way approve of what you're doing, but I won't fight you anymore." It
would be difficult, but she would leave knowing he loved her.
Sara's face softened in shock.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I can't speak for your
mother, but I will talk to her."
Sara almost smiled. "It won't do any
good."
"Perhaps she'll surprise you."
Trendaul rested his hand on the doorknob. Before he could open the door to
leave, he heard Sara speak again, her tone of voice tentative.
"Dad?"
Trendaul turned toward her one more time.
"Yes?"
Her face was pale and her eyes were
troubled. "If I weren't going to Eden, and you were going back to Novaun,
what would I do?"
"I would hope with my whole soul that
you would come with me."
"And if I decided to stay here?"
"I would be heartbroken. And
yet . . ." Trendaul shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about
you. Not very much, anyway. You would have David and the rest of your mother's
family to watch out for you."
Sara picked at her quilt. Many moments
passed before she asked, "What would someone like me do on Novaun?"
Hope trickled through Trendaul. She was
asking questions. She was interested in Novaun. Maybe there was a chance, after
all, that she would give up her Eden quest. "If we were to return to
Novaun, our first priority would be education, not just yours but that of your
mother and your brothers and sisters as well. We would also, undoubtedly, spend
a lot of time with my family. My mother, in fact, (and my aunts, and my
sisters!) would probably want to introduce you to lots of people your own
age." Trendaul smiled, but not too broadly. He didn't want to anger her
again. "There would be young men galore. A virtual feast."
Trendaul hoped Sara would laugh, but she
cringed instead, as if the suggestion pained her. "A feast of Novaunian
men . . . that sounds absurd."
Trendaul chuckled a little, nodding.
"The women in my family wouldn't be able to help themselves, you
understand. Most young women there are married by the time they're your
age."
Her eyes grew huge. "Really?"
"Your mother and I were married when
we were twenty, and we weren't completely typical. We had known each other all
our lives and could have easily been married a year or two sooner."
"Why weren't you?"
Trendaul shrugged. "We were
idiots."
Sara finally laughed. "You mean you
couldn't make up your mind!"
Trendaul nodded, feeling a sense of peace
he hadn't felt in months. "We were so comfortable together we didn't
realize how much we loved each other."
"You really were an idiot!"
Trendaul nodded again and decided to make
his exit quickly, while Sara was in a pleasant mood. "Goodnight, sweetie.
I love you."
Sara couldn't stop laughing. "I love
you too, Dad."
*
"What happened?" Teri demanded as
soon as Trendaul closed their bedroom door behind him.
"She's going to Eden, or at least she's
planning to go to Eden. I think there's
still a chance she may change her mind, but we have to stop pressuring her. I
promised her I wouldn't make any more attempts to persuade her to stay. I told
her I would ask you to do the same."
"You can't be serious. How could she
still believe she should go after everything you told her?"
"I actually made it worse. She now
believes she's following in my footsteps."
"But your coming to Earth wasn't the
same at all."
"It was the same, in some ways."
"Not in the important ways."
"No, but she won't see that. Teri, we
can't let her leave thinking we hate her. We both have to make a determined
effort to be kind to her."
"Be kind to her? I'd like to strangle
her!"
"I know it will be difficult, but we
have to do everything in our power to make her last week-and-a-half here as
pleasant as possible."
"So you're going to let her go. Just
like that. Have you lost your--?" Teri stopped herself and regarded him
with interest. "So you made this decision. Just like that."
Of course she was as intrigued as Sara had
been amused only minutes before. Both Teri and Sara knew that he never made a
decision without agonizing over it for weeks or even months. "It seemed
like the right thing to do at the time."
"Is it the right thing to do or isn't
it?"
"It is."
Teri smiled at him with renewed respect.
"Then I'll support you in it."
Teri's trust had always amazed Trendaul.
Love surged through him and he drew her into his arms. As she pressed closer,
caressing his jaw with her lips, he whispered, "I'm going to regret my
decision."
"You always do."
While Sara was at work at the health club
the next day, her bishop called and told her he wanted to meet with her that
evening in his office. She went, of course, as she had often in the past
several months, but she knew it would be a waste of both her time and the
bishop's. Bishop Eric Lanham was a good man who was trying to do the right
thing, but he just didn't understand. The two of them simply weren't on the same
planet.
During their first interview, while she was
in the process of interviewing with Dr. Carroll and other key people, Bishop
Lanham had read one of the prophet's recent talks with her and asked, "Do
you believe the prophet speaks for the Lord?"
"Yes, I do. He gives us general advice from the Lord that we must
adapt to our individual situations by going to the Lord ourselves."
"Our prophet and apostles have warned
us repeatedly not to have contact with the Zarrists. Don't you think it would
be safer to follow this counsel than not?"
"Of course the Lord, through the
Brethren, counsels this. Zarr claims to be Divine, a direct descendant of the
resurrected Christ. Most members simply can't handle that kind of attack on
their testimonies. I know Zarr's claims are preposterous. For those of us who
are strong enough to handle it, there is no danger."
"Which is why you are now a supporter
of Zarr."
"You are mistaken. I don't support
Zarr. But I do understand that he poses no danger and am not afraid of
him."
"What if he really is dangerous? Then
wouldn't your lack of fear be misguided?"
"Absolutely."
"He is dangerous, Sara. The Lord has
said it Himself through His prophet. I know this is true. True for me, true for
you, true for everyone."
The last time Sara had talked with Bishop
Lanham, he had presented her with an absurd situation. "You are engaged
and feel very strongly that you should be intimate with your fiancé before you
marry him. Would this strong feeling be from God?"
"Of course not!"
"Why not?"
"Because sex without marriage is
wrong."
"Even if the Lord reveals to you that,
in this case, since you will be getting married anyway, it's all right?"
"The Lord wouldn't tell anyone
that."
"Why?"
"Because it's never right."
"How do you know?"
"The scriptures say so. The prophets
have said so. Common sense says so."
"Then where does this intense feeling
come from?"
"A person who thinks she should be
intimate with her fiancé before she marries him would be mistaking her own
intense desire for intimacy for the Spirit."
"So what the prophet has said about
sex transcends any strong personal desires or drives we may have?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"But what he says about avoiding
contact with the Zarrists and remaining on Earth to build up Zion does
not?"
"No, because there is nothing
inherently wrong with colonizing space."
"There's nothing inherently wrong with
sex either, but the Lord does set some basic boundaries for its practice, just
as He has set boundaries for space colonization."
The bishop was comparing space colonization
with sex? Now Sara had heard everything! "I can't believe we're having
this discussion."
"Do you understand the comparison or
don't you?"
"Yes. Yes, of course."
"Isn't it possible, Sara, that you're
mistaking your own strong desire to go to Eden as inspiration?"
No. She and Bishop Lanham were not on the
same planet. They weren't even in the same solar system!
For some odd reason, both of Sara's parents
always insisted on being with her at the stake center when she had an interview
with Bishop Lanham. They rarely exchanged more than a few words with the bishop
before and after these meetings; they merely sat in the foyer and waited.
This evening was no different. Bishop
Lanham, an attorney in his early thirties, stepped into the foyer, dressed in a
gray pinstriped suit, his teal tie lying neatly against his starched shirt. He
shook hands with Sara and her parents and motioned her into his office.
"I have something interesting to share
with you, Sara," he said pleasantly as he closed the door behind them.
Sara moved a chair closer to the desk and
sat down. "What? Have you looked into your crystal ball and seen Parkridge's
victory against Urbana tomorrow night?" She knew as well as he did that
Urbana was supposed to win the football game, but she couldn't resist teasing
him.
Bishop Lanham sat down behind his desk.
"The Panthers will be Hawk food!"
"I understand the Hawks got a taste of
Owl last week."
"The Hawks feasted on Owl last week," the bishop corrected. "Those
Westminster boys didn't have a chance. Will Josh be conducting the band
tomorrow night?"
"Who else?"
"We'll definitely have to drive over
for the game then." Bishop Lanham removed a sheet of paper from his desk
and handed it to Sara.
She took it from him in curiosity, seeing
immediately that it was a letter from the First Presidency, a longer letter
than she had received in the mail the day before. "Is this why you wanted
to see me tonight?"
"It is. I've been instructed to read
and discuss this letter with you."
"The Eden Colony is getting a ward,
you know," Sara announced, feeling vindicated.
"I know, but it doesn't matter. Let's
have a prayer, and then I'll read and you follow along."
The letter started by reiterating the
prophet's counsel to shun contact with the Zarrists, remain on Earth, and
gather to temple communities under the direction of their respective bishops
and stake presidents.
As Bishop Lanham read, Sara couldn't help
but believe that members of the Church would actually be more independent from
the Zarrists on Eden. The colonists were obviously following the prophet's
counsel in that regard.
"In Doctrine and Covenants section
101, verses 20 and 22 it says: 'And, behold, there is none other place
appointed than that which I have appointed; neither shall there be any other
place appointed than that which I have appointed, for the work of the gathering
of my saints--
'Behold, it is my will, that all they who
call on my name, and worship me according to mine everlasting gospel, should
gather together, and stand in holy places;'"
Sara wanted to shout: "But we are
gathering, to the most beautiful, holy place we know of!" Didn't the fact
that the Lord was organizing a ward there prove it was an official gathering
place of some kind?
The bishop went on: "The planet called
Eden has not been designated by the Lord as a gathering place and is,
therefore, not entitled to the blessings of Zion."
What blessings? Sara wondered. Protection?
Surely the Lord wouldn't abandon them. They were, after all, doing the best
they could to serve him.
"The Lord proclaims in D&C 1:14: 'And
the arm of the Lord shall be revealed; and the day cometh that they who will
not hear the voice of the Lord, neither the voice of his servants, neither give
heed to the words of the prophets and apostles, shall be cut off from among the
people;'"
Sara knew, without a doubt, that the
colonists had every intention of following the prophet and apostles, or would,
as long as the prophet didn't abandon them! Was it possible the prophet had
misunderstood Dr. Carroll's vision? Evidently the Lord hadn't, otherwise He
wouldn't have directed the prophet to organize the colonists into a ward!
Bishop Lanham concluded reading the letter.
"We fear that if you follow through with your plan to establish a colony
on Eden, you will be putting yourselves in danger, both physically and
spiritually. The Lord needs every one of you to do your part to build Zion here
on Earth. We urge you to give up your imprudent quest for a colony on Eden.
"Your brethren of the First
Presidency."
Sara set her copy of the letter on Bishop
Lanham's desk. The letter, from a certain perspective, did counsel the
colonists to remain on Earth. The Spirit, however, had strongly manifested to
her that her life's mission lay on Eden. Sara concluded that the Lord had plans
for Eden He hadn't yet revealed to the prophet.
Bishop Lanham looked solemnly up from his
copy of the letter. "What are you thinking about right now, Sara?"
"I'm wondering why the prophet would
counsel so strongly against going to Eden and yet still organize the colony
into a ward."
"Let me ask you this. Does the Lord
approve of divorce?"
"Sometimes."
"As a general principle."
"No. The New Testament teaches that
clearly enough, and we do believe in eternal marriage."
"So you and I both agree the Lord
would prefer all married couples to live their lives together in such a way
that they would never want to divorce."
Sara nodded thoughtfully.
"If this is the case, why does the
Lord allow the Church to recognize divorce?"
"Because we live in such an imperfect
world and sometimes divorce, as bad as it is, is better than the
alternative."
"It's my opinion that the prophet is
organizing the Eden Colony Ward because such an action is better than the
alternative."
"Which would be excommunicating Dr.
Carroll and allowing the colony to fend for itself?" Sara understood what
the bishop was driving at, but going to Eden to create Zion was hardly the same
as getting a divorce.
"Would you follow Dr. Carroll to Eden
if he were excommunicated?"
Dr. Carroll had put all of his professional
and spiritual expertise into planning the Eden community, his whole heart and
soul, and for this he would be excommunicated? The mere thought of it enraged
Sara. "This is hardly an issue since Dr. Carroll has not been excommunicated!"
"How do you know?"
Sara clenched her fists on the desk in
front of her. "The Church does not
excommunicate righteous men!"
"It isn't my intention to make you
angry, Sara," Bishop Lanham said gently, leaning toward her a little.
"But I do want you to understand that the Church might have taken action
against Dr. Carroll that you wouldn't know about."
"I can't help it. I am angry." Feeling guilty for being
angry with her bishop, a leader she had been taught her whole life to support
and respect, Sara forced herself to breathe deeply and relax her muscles,
regaining some of her composure. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help
me, but you just don't understand."
"Perhaps it would help if I explain
the Church's policy regarding people who have contact with Tohmazz Zarr."
"Yes," Sara replied, her anger
dissipating. "I would like to know the official policy and how it applies
to Dr. Carroll and the Eden Colony."
"You already know that few, if any,
members who have contact with Zarr and his people are excommunicated or even
disfellowshipped, even those who are vocal supporters such as Dr. Carroll and
his wife. What you may not know, however, is that as stakes are dissolved, the
records of those who have not consecrated their wealth and moved into a temple
community are sent to Salt Lake. These people may choose to attend services in
a temple community, but they are not official members of a ward and will not
have callings or be actively fellowshipped."
What the bishop described made sense.
"So a person who doesn't choose to join a temple community basically cuts
himself off from the Church, not the other way around."
"Precisely. As far as I know, the only
exception to this is when a person is in a situation such as your uncle at the
Naval Academy."
Sara nodded that she understood. David had
no choice but to live on campus. The Annapolis Stake had been dissolved the
previous June, and he and the other LDS midshipmen were assigned to a singles
ward in the Silver Spring Stake, the easternmost stake in the Washington, D.C.
Temple Community.
"Until our stake is dissolved, I, as a
bishop, have been instructed to work with members who are sympathetic to Zarr's
cause to persuade them to see their error. One of the first steps we're taking
with those who are less active, of course, is encouraging them to attend
church. As for those who are active, I'm counseled to release them from
leadership positions and deny them temple recommends and impose other types of
probation."
"You're suggesting Dr. Carroll may not
have a current temple recommend? That's absurd!"
"I don't know what Dr. Carroll's
status is. I'm not his bishop or his stake president. That's my point. I don't
know and neither do you. Frankly, you can't assume that even a bishop always
knows a ward member's worthiness; people have been known to lie to their
bishops about all kinds of things."
"Really?" Sara said, stunned.
"Why? I mean, what's the point of being a member of the Church if you're
going to lie?"
"There are people who are more worried
about appearing righteous than being righteous. You cannot assume a person is
following a correct course just because he or she acts like an active member of
the Church, nor can you assume the same if you haven't heard a public
announcement that he or she has been excommunicated. The Church isn't going to
excommunicate every person who may preach false doctrine to you or who would
lead you down a wrong path. Ultimately, the Lord expects you to be spiritually
discerning and take responsibility for recognizing and rejecting false doctrine
and those who preach it on your own."
Sara stared absently over Bishop Lanham's
shoulder at the picture of Jesus Christ, twisting one of the buttons on her long
black skirt. Lying to the bishop was like lying to the Lord. Did active members
of the Church really do that? Some must. Bishop Lanham wouldn't tell her
something like that if it weren't true.
"Will you promise to do something for
me, Sara?" Bishop Lanham said softly.
Sara focused on the bishop again. His
gray-blue eyes gazed at her as if he could see right through her. "I don't
know. It depends."
Bishop Lanham tapped Sara's copy of the
letter they had read. "Will you commit to study this letter and pray about
it?"
Sara nodded. She wanted to read the letter
again anyway.
"And if after doing that you feel any
doubts about going to Eden at all, will you promise to reconsider your
decision?"
Again, Sara nodded. That much was self-evident.
"While you're pondering and praying
about this letter, will you promise not to have contact with Dr. Carroll or any
other member of the Eden Colony?"
Sara shook her head. "I don't think I
can do that."
"Then can you commit to keep yourself
from communicating with Dr. Carroll and all other members of the Eden Colony
until next Tuesday?"
Sara hesitated. She and her three Eden
Internet friends from the Baltimore/Washington area had dinner at Don Pablo's
in Columbia every Saturday night, and Dr. Carroll usually joined them. She
loved those dinners with her friends and didn't want to miss the one on
Saturday.
"This is important, Sara. I believe
you need time to think alone."
Finally Sara nodded. She could do that much
for the bishop.
"Good," the bishop said, sounding
relieved. "I'd like to meet with you again next Tuesday evening."
*
Sometimes Sara talked to her parents about
her meetings on the drive back to Parkridge from Frederick, and sometimes she
didn't. That evening she said nothing, preferring to think, and they didn't
press her.
The bishop had received the letter they had
read, but it had been addressed to her personally. This was detailed counsel
directed specifically to her. Could it be that she really was wrong to go to
Eden? That she was interpreting her own desires as the Spirit? Was it possible
Dr. Carroll had lost his temple recommend or was on some other sort of
probation? She didn't like the doubts this particular interview with her bishop
had put into her mind.
When Sara and her parents returned home,
Sara bade them good night and went to bed. Once in her room, Sara kicked off
her shoes, stepped out of her skirt, and sat on her bed, crossing her legs in
front of her and leaning her elbows into the sides of her knees. Her mind
churned in confusion. She read the letter again and again, looking up the
scriptures it referred to and reading entire chapters of the Doctrine and
Covenants. Heavenly Father, I just want
to have a successful life and do what is right for me, and I can't help but
feel Dr. Carroll's Equality of Zion is the perfect answer. Please tell me what
to do!
The phone rang and Sara jumped. She grabbed
the phone before it could wake anyone up and put it to her ear. "Tony, I
can't talk to you."
"You don't have to talk. Just
listen."
"I can't even listen. I'll talk to you
in a few days. I made a promise to my bishop."
"I talked to my bishop tonight too.
That's the problem. I'm having second thoughts."
"Tony, I promised!" She hung up
and dropped the phone on her bed, jumping up to put on her shorts and Royals
shirt. Thinking about Tony Wright made her wish she hadn't made that promise to
the bishop. Tony was as confused as she was, and she had hung up on him. Still,
what else could she have done?
Deciding she needed to talk to Tony as much
as he seemed to need to talk to her, she picked up the phone again and punched
in the number for information. Within a minute, she had Bishop Lanham's number
and was punching it frantically into the phone. His wife answered.
"Uh . . ." Sara
said, feeling ridiculous, "I need--I mean, may I speak with the bishop?
This is Sara. Sara Alexander." Sara winced. How weak! Why in the galaxy
was she doing this? She was nothing more than a silly girl who couldn't keep a
promise for more than two hours, and the poor man needed to sleep.
Eventually Sara heard Bishop Lanham's voice
in her ear. "What can I do for you, Sara?"
"One of my Eden friends called.
Apparently he's been talking to his bishop also and is now having second
thoughts. He wanted to talk about it, but I hung up on him. I want to talk to
him too, but, you know, I promised."
"And you want me to give you
permission to call him back." Bishop Lanham sounded amused, in a nice way,
and Sara felt more ridiculous than ever.
"I guess. Yes. It was rude of me to
hang up on him and he's as confused as I am, so certainly there couldn't be any
harm in talking to him."
"Who is this friend of yours?"
"Tony Wright. He's from Gaithersburg,
and his family is now in Bethesda. I met him in Dr. Carroll's chat room online
several months ago. Tony and I and the other two students from this area,
Jordan Tressler and Marc McCabe, have dinner together in Columbia every
Saturday evening."
"Do you want to call Jordan and Marc also?"
"No, actually I don't."
"If you talk to Tony tonight, will you
encourage him to stay on Earth or go to Eden?"
"Neither. We're both confused. I think
we would talk about our confusion."
"And you feel such a discussion would
be productive?"
Sara leaned her head into her hand and
rubbed her temples with her thumb and middle two fingers. "No. You're
right. Such a discussion would just muddle things more."
"Why don't you e‑mail Tony and
apologize for hanging up on him. Tell him you need time alone to think and that
you'll get back to him in a few days."
Sara nodded, even though she knew the
bishop couldn't see her. "I could do that."
"Perhaps both of you will decide, on
your own, to stay home. After the Eden transport leaves Earth, you can take him
to a Navy football game."
Sara laughed a little, releasing her head
and looking up at the ceiling. "He's a die-hard University of Maryland
fan. I'm not sure he would want to go see the Midshipmen when he could watch or
listen to the Terps."
"He's a student at Maryland,
then?"
"Was. He finished his undergraduate
degree last spring."
"I think even a die-hard Maryland fan
would get a thrill seeing David Pierce lead the Brigade of Midshipmen onto the
field."
"He probably would," Sara
conceded, "if he knew David."
"You haven't introduced this good
friend of yours to David?"
The bishop's tone carried no hint of
reprimand, but Sara felt reprimanded all the same. "No," she said
quietly. "I haven't introduced any of my Eden friends to my family. And I
haven't told my family about my Eden friends."
"Perhaps you should."
"Perhaps I will." Sara felt
guilty. Her parents knew she spent time online talking to Dr. Carroll and the
other people who were going to Eden, but they didn't approve. They so
disapproved, in fact, that they had blocked Dr. Carroll's web site, along with
all others connected with the Zarrists, on their own computer network. The only
way around their stupid ban was to use a wireless Internet service. Her parents
didn't like the fact she kept in contact with the other Eden colonists this
way, but there wasn't much they could do about it short of kicking her out of
the house. "Thank you, Bishop. I'm sorry to bother you."
"Read D&C section 9 before you go
to bed tonight, will you, Sara?"
"Well, why not?" Sara replied,
feeling tense and mentally exhausted. What was one more section?
"That's what you get for calling me
after nine o'clock," the bishop teased.
Sara couldn't help but chuckle, releasing
some of the tension she felt. "Thanks. Good night."
Sara hung up and read section 9, lingering
over verses 8 and 9: But behold, I say
unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it
be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within
you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right. But if it be not right you
shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall
cause you to forget the thing which is wrong . . .
What was the bishop trying to tell her?
That her present confusion was "a stupor of thought?" Perhaps. Then
again, how could it be? For months she had known she should go to Eden, known
it because the burning in her bosom told her so. Then again, her father would
say a mind bond was compelling her, not the Spirit, but he didn't really know.
She was his daughter, after all, intellectually and spiritually strong enough
to resist such a bond, even if Tohmazz Zarr had attempted it, which she had a
difficult time believing.
What was she supposed to do? The Spirit
told her to go to Eden, and the prophet told her not to go. How was she
supposed to reconcile these conflicting commands? Was her bishop right? Was this
bewilderment she felt a "stupor of thought?" A sign that it really
was wrong to go to Eden after all?
Sara forced herself to write a quick e‑mail
to Tony. She really did wish she could introduce Tony and her other Eden
friends to her family. It wasn't right that her Eden life and her family life
were separate. Why did her parents have to be so dense?
And why did David? Her father had promised
he wouldn't fight her decision to go to Eden anymore, but David hadn't and
wouldn't. They argued about it every time she saw him, and he was formidable.
Now and then she believed life would be easier if she could just slip away and
not see David again at all, but she couldn't very well throw away her best
friend in the world. She would see him again before she left if she had to take
a Sunday afternoon and drive to Annapolis herself.
While Sara was online, she couldn't resist
popping into Dr. Carroll's forbidden web site. She wouldn't chat with anyone,
of course, but she could look at the family pictures for a few teeny tiny
minutes. Her mind was too tired to work anymore and needed time to relax and
dream.
The first pictures to greet Sara were
recent portraits of Dr. Carroll and his wife. Dr. Carroll's sky-blue eyes
exuded intelligence, spirituality, and friendliness, the smoothness of his
skin, the fullness of his golden blond hair, and dimple in his right cheek
displaying youthfulness, despite his age, which was forty-six. Sister Thomassen
Carroll smiled in a self-assured way, her pale-blond hair cut in a pageboy with
bangs, her warm pink blouse both business-like and feminine.
Below these portraits was a picture of them
with their four children, all with various shades of blond hair and lush golden
lashes. The Carrolls held themselves with elegance in their classic clothing.
They were a family beautiful enough to grace the pages of the Ensign or an advertisement for Deseret
Book.
Sara brought up the wedding picture of Dr.
Carroll and his wife in front of the Oakland Temple. Dr. Carroll looked so much
like Cameron in the wedding picture that she had to catch her breath every time
she looked at it. His wife's wedding dress glittered in the sun, her hair long
and gently curled under a wreath of white roses. There were childhood pictures
of Cameron, Ashley, Brandon, and Adam and photographs of the family's gorgeous
estate home in Greenwood, Maryland.
Adam and Brandon posed with their baseball
teams. Brandon proudly stood with his parents at his Eagle court of honor.
Ashley smiled for her senior picture, her eyes green like her mother's and her
chin bearing a cleft like her father's. Her hair, like her mother's, was pale
blond and cut in a pageboy. Her style, however, was flatter than her mother's,
parted on the side, and angled at the jaw. Ashley had been the valedictorian of
her high school graduating class and student body president. She had excelled
in debate, drama, and choir, and played both the piano and the flute. Sara
sometimes thought Ashley and Josh should have been friends. They were
practically the same age and were interested in so many of the same things.
Sara casually moved from Ashley's photos
and brief biography to Cameron's, forcing herself to maintain dignified
restraint even in her solitude. There was a picture of him with his parents at
his Eagle court of honor and one of him in a running suit with dozens of medals
hanging from his extended arms and more hanging from his neck. There were prom
and homecoming pictures, all with beautiful girls Sara recognized from his stake,
and there was a photograph of him with his parents in front of the Columbia
stake center, taken the day of his missionary farewell.
She examined the farewell picture more
closely than she had the others, as she always did. It was odd. In it, Cameron
wore the strangest expression she had ever seen on his face. His mouth curved
into the tiniest of smiles, as if he didn't want to smile at all, and his eyes
were feverish. He looked trapped. She had seen freedom and euphoria often
enough on his face during his sprints that she thought she should be able to
recognize the opposite. There was no doubt about it. In the farewell picture he
looked caged and haunted, as if he didn't want to go on a mission at all and
his parents were forcing him.
Sara clicked on the hyperlink to a copy of
one of the many e-mails Cameron had sent to his family from China. Since
Cameron had been out well over a year and a half, there were many e-mails, all
passionate about the gospel and radiating love for the Chinese people. Sometimes
he became discouraged, but basically he was successful in what he was doing and
happy.
Sara didn't think the Church would include
a young man who was ambivalent about being on a mission in the first group to
open up a country. Nor did she think such a young man would be called to be a
branch president, with the responsibility of not only directing the branch, but
teaching and baptizing converts and then arranging for them to travel to the
temple community in Beijing. She believed, in fact, that Cameron was an
exceptional missionary. She read two of Cameron's e-mails, assuring herself
that these were not the e-mails of a young man who had been forced to go on a
mission.
Not wanting to be disturbed by the farewell
photo again, Sara went to Cameron's senior portrait, finally giving herself
permission to ogle him. Those exquisite aqua eyes gazed back at her candidly
from the photograph in a way they never had in person.
"Why couldn't you have looked my way
once, Cameron Carroll?" Sara softly begged the portrait on the screen.
"Just once?" Sara sometimes liked to think he was a snob, but she
knew he wasn't. In six years, she had never detected a speck of haughtiness in
him. She had been forced to accept the bitter fact that there simply wasn't
anything about her that captured his interest.
Sara forced her eyes away from Cameron's
and thought about Tony Wright, a guy she liked as well as any person she had
ever known and who was quite good-looking to boot. Though she and Tony had a
natural rapport and communicated often online and on the phone, he had never
asked her out and she had never asked him. A part of Sara thought it was
because Tony didn't feel any more comfortable introducing her to his family
than she felt introducing him to hers. A deeper part of her, though, believed
it was because they both intuitively knew they could never be more than
friends.
Why that was, Sara didn't know. Perhaps
Tony wasn't interested in her in a romantic way. Perhaps, on the other hand, he
sensed her heart belonged to someone else and didn't want to get too close. If
that was the case, a little encouragement from her could change things between
them drastically. For the first time, Sara wondered whether her passion for
Cameron was spoiling the possibility of a real love relationship.
Sara hadn't seen Cameron in two years and
wouldn't see him again for another two. Tony was available now, a genuine flesh
and blood guy, not a dream man. Cameron reminded Sara of candlelight, slow
dancing, cotton and silk, BMWs, glamorous women, and classical music. Tony
reminded her of campfires, bear hugs, denim and flannel, trucks, dogs (no, big dogs), and classic rock. She thought
Tony was probably more her type, so why did she keep yearning for Cameron?
Sara's eyes found Cameron's again. Who was
she fooling? She couldn't get Cameron out of her mind because he was perfect.
Not because of the candlelight and silk, but because he laughed easily and
smiled with his eyes. Because he achieved greatness while remaining a good
sport. Because he was compassionate and full of faith and able to express his
deepest convictions and emotions in a way that felt comfortable to her. Because
he had the body of an Olympian and the countenance of an angel.
Sara shut down her laptop. No guy could be
that perfect. There had to be something wrong with him. It was his farewell
photo, after all, which was the only blemish in an otherwise flawless photo
display. Cameron was probably the family lunatic.
Sara had mustered the nerve to ask Dr.
Carroll how Cameron was doing only once, the first time they had met, and only
because Dr. Carroll had recognized her from the track meets. One of these days
she would work up the nerve to ask about him again and would in time, perhaps,
learn something deliciously ridiculous about him. She kept hoping Dr. Carroll
would say something about him without encouragement from her, anything at all,
but he never did.
As Sara set her laptop on her desk and
picked up her phone to plug it in and charge, the phone rang. Seeing that it
was Dr. Carroll, she tried to ignore it. With every second that passed,
however, her discomfort increased until she could do nothing but answer.
Sara's fingers trembled as they combed her
long dark locks off of her forehead. She didn't know whether to panic or be
excited. "Yes?" she replied as calmly as she could.
"This is Ben Carroll. I missed you in
the chat room this evening. Are you all right?"
Hearing Dr. Carroll's voice from the phone
always awed Sara. He was so in tune with the Spirit that he not only sensed her
agitation but also took time to call her. How could this man possibly be an
apostate? "I feel a little beat up emotionally, but otherwise I'm fine.
Thanks for your concern."
"Of course I'm concerned, Sara. You
never miss an evening in the chat room. What's wrong?"
"I spent the evening with my
bishop." Sara couldn't help but feel guilty. She might be able to hang up
on Tony, but she couldn't hang up on Dr. Carroll. She would just have to cut
the conversation short somehow. "I promised him I wouldn't communicate
with you or the other colonists until after our next interview, which is
Tuesday."
"Why did you make a promise like
that?" He sounded surprised.
"I don't know. He caught me off guard,
I guess."
"It isn't like my Little Panther to be
so acquiescent."
"No, I don't suppose it is."
Hearing the nickname "Little Panther" always made Sara smile because
only a tall man like Dr. Carroll would think she was little. She still couldn't
believe that a man as extraordinary as Dr. Carroll remembered her from high
school. When, at their first meeting, she had expressed astonishment at his
memory, he had replied, amused, "How could I forget the black-haired girl
in black spandex who sprinted with the liveliness and power of a panther?"
Sometimes he called her Little Cougar in honor of her former position on the
BYU track team, but usually it was Little Panther.
"Your parents must be pleased."
"My parents don't know unless the
bishop told them, and I don't think he would do that." Sara felt so
demoralized about being on such poor terms with her parents that she couldn't
bring herself to talk about the situation with anyone but Dr. Carroll and her
four Don Pablo's friends. Tony's situation with his family was actually worse
than hers. "The good news is, my father did promise me last night he
wouldn't try to talk me out of going to Eden anymore."
"That's wonderful!"
"That's ironic, you mean. He promises,
and the next day, I'm mixed up. It's that letter the bishop read. He told me to
read section 9. I think he's trying to tell me that this confusion I'm feeling
is a 'stupor of thought' and is the Lord's way of telling me I shouldn't go to
Eden."
"When you talk to your bishop again,
tell him that your 'stupor of thought' was the Lord's way of telling you that remaining on Earth is the wrong thing to
do."
Dr. Carroll's logic dazzled Sara. Perhaps
he was right! She hadn't been confused about a thing until she had read that
letter. "Maybe I will. Thanks. You know, I really must hang up. I promised!"
"I'm sorry, Sara. I thought you wanted
to talk to me."
"I always love talking to you, but tonight won't work. I have to go. 'Bye!"
Sara hung up and turned off the light,
collapsing into bed. Her body ached and she was too tired to think, but her
mind kept working anyway. The conversations with her bishop played over and
over in her head, along with the words of the letter, the counsel of scriptures
she had read that evening, and her conversation with Dr. Carroll. She wanted to
follow the prophet and take counsel from her bishop, but she kept coming back
to the fact that she hadn't felt a second of doubt about going to Eden before
reading the letter.
Sara drifted to sleep, eventually finding
herself in the blocks on the track of Parkridge High School, wearing an
ankle-length black spandex bodysuit. Her hair hung loosely around her face.
Unlike the other girls, she never wore her hair back when she ran. When her
hair was free, so was she. The gun fired and she sprinted away. Her start was
excellent, and the air was still. She was a headwind barreling down the track,
leveling her competition. She was gone! She was outta there!
Before Sara had run too many meters, she
heard frantic cries from all around her, her coaches, her teammates, and her
parents. "You're going the wrong way, Sara! Turn around now! Get back in the race! You're going
the wrong way!"
Sara glanced around in confusion, slowing a
little. Certainly she hadn't been stupid enough to run away from the race! She
passed the high jumpers and the long jumpers and saw Dr. Carroll sprinting down
the track several meters in front of her, wearing Gladiator-red. He turned
slightly to look at her, motioning her to follow him. "Come on, Little
Panther! This is a better way! You can do it! Look! You've left your
competition far behind!" Soothed by the voice in front of her, Sara
sprinted harder to catch up with it, the voices of her coaches, teammates and
parents fading away.
Sara immediately woke up. She wasn't
sprinting, but her heart was. She felt for the security of the denim quilt, her
fingers finding the seams and knots of yarn. She always dreamed of high school
after evenings of ogling Cameron's photos and reading his e-mails. Sara forced
herself to breathe deeply in an effort to relax, feeling more confused than
ever.
*
Sara left her phone off for the next five
days and didn't boot up her computer at all, and as much as it tortured her,
she didn't go to dinner Saturday evening at Don Pablo's. When she arrived at
the stake center to meet with her bishop Tuesday evening, she was relieved that
she could tell him she had kept her commitment to keep from communicating with
Dr. Carroll and her other Eden friends.
Bishop Lanham invited Sara into his office.
They chatted for a few minutes about the game, throwing around comments such
as: "The Hawks killed the Panthers!" and "The Hawks ran up the
score!" and "The Panthers need to get a defense!" and "The
Hawks need to get a conscience!"
Eventually Bishop Lanham brought the
discussion to the matter at hand. "Have you come to any new conclusions
since we last met?"
"No, actually I haven't. I appreciate
your concern, but I know more strongly than ever that the Lord wants me to go
to Eden."
Surprise came over Bishop Lanham's face,
followed by disappointment. "You've been talking to Dr. Carroll."
Sara knew she had done nothing wrong, that
she had kept her commitment, but she felt guilty all the same. "No. I mean
yes. I mean, I didn't mean to!"
"I don't understand." He watched
her carefully from the other side of the desk, his eyes still disappointed, as
if he had lost respect for her.
"After I talked to you Thursday night,
I e‑mailed Tony as you suggested. I went online for a while after that,
but I didn't go into Dr. Carroll's chat room, as I usually do. Dr. Carroll
noticed I wasn't there and was concerned, so he called me. That's the only time
I talked to him. I haven't had the phone or the computer on since!"
The bishop frowned. "You didn't think
it was odd that he would call you? Or has he called you before?"
"He calls me every now and then,
usually when I have something on my mind."
"Every now and then? How often is
that?"
"Every couple of weeks, I guess. It's
hard to say. It always surprises me."
"When he calls, how long do you
talk?"
Sara shrugged. "It depends. The other
night I only talked to him for a few minutes. Usually, though, it's longer than
that."
"Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An
hour?"
"I don't think we've ever talked
longer than an hour and a half."
"An hour and a half? That's a long
time."
"Not really. He's a psychologist,
remember?"
"Do the two of you e‑mail back
and forth?"
Sara nodded. "Every few days."
"What do you talk about?"
"Oh, I don't know. The gospel. Books.
Current events. His plans for the colony--everything. He has an amazing
mind."
"What did he say the other night,
Sara?"
Sara told him everything. "He was
right, you know. I didn't feel one second of doubt about going to Eden before
last Thursday evening, and I don't feel any doubt about it now. Obviously the
decision to remain home was causing my 'stupor of thought.'"
"Why does he call you 'Little Panther'?"
"Because he says I run like a panther,
which, as you know, is Parkridge's mascot."
"He saw you run when you were in high
school?"
Sara felt her cheeks grow warm. "His
son . . . Cameron . . . is my age. He ran track
in high school too. Dr. Carroll, amazingly enough, remembers me from the
meets."
Bishop Lanham smiled. "How many state
championships did you win?"
"Five." She would have had six
had she not blown it on the 400 her junior year. Cameron was better at the 400
than she was and had won it both his junior and senior years, along with the
100 and 200, making a total of six state titles for him.
"And you think it's strange that Dr.
Carroll would remember you?"
"Well, when you put it that way,
perhaps not."
"The fact that he remembered you doesn't
disturb me. That he would spend so much time with you on the phone and online
and give you a provocative pet name like 'Little Panther' disturbs me a great
deal."
"He calls me Little Panther, and the
guys call me Bubble Babe. So?"
"Bubble Babe?"
"Because I'm careful about what I eat
and bring my own bottled water to the restaurant, like someone who lives in a
bubble, isolated from the environment. Even Dr. Carroll was astounded when I
told them I hadn't eaten any kind of restaurant food until I was
seventeen."
The bishop leaned back in his chair and
waved his hands, smiling. He knew her family too well. "All right, all
right, I get it." His expression of amusement suddenly changed to one of
alarm. "Dr. Carroll has dinner with you and your friends in
Columbia?"
"Usually. Not always."
"Does he bring his family?"
"No. We told him he should--after all,
he recommended Don Pablo's to us because it's his kids' favorite
restaurant--but he says his wife doesn't want to intrude on our little
gathering. I guess she feels it would make it more of a family event than a
casual gathering of students."
"How long has this been going
on?"
"Since early last summer." Sara
counted to herself. "That would be four months, maybe five."
"And Sister Carroll has never come to
one of these dinners with her husband?"
"No, not that I can remember."
"Never?"
"No, never."
"Isn't she one of the colony's leaders?
And your mentor?"
Sara nodded.
"And it doesn't strike you as strange
that she would never be there?"
Sara shifted her position and folded her
arms, feeling annoyed. "Why are you asking me all of these
questions?"
"Because your relationship with Dr.
Carroll seems overly familiar, and that disturbs me."
Sara stiffened. "What are you driving
at?"
The bishop leaned toward Sara, his face
grave. "I have an uneasy feeling about this man, Sara. He's calling and e‑mailing
you regularly and spending every Saturday evening with you and your
friends--without his wife. Any one of those things by itself might not bother
me, but all of them together add up to a lot of time he's spending with you
instead of his family."
Sara gasped. "You're suggesting Dr.
Carroll's behavior toward me has been inappropriate?"
Bishop Lanham nodded. "My gut feeling
is that he's attracted to you and can't resist pursuing it."
How could the bishop suggest such a thing?
How could he even think it? "You don't understand anything! He treats me
like a daughter! That's what the Eden Colony is all about! Government leaders
are concerned about every individual, and every individual has equal access to
government leaders!"
"How many students are in the Eden
colony, Sara?"
Sara drummed her fingers on her thigh.
"A hundred."
"And you think each one of them is
getting that kind of personal attention from Dr. Carroll?"
Now that the bishop mentioned it, Sara had
to admit to herself that she had never thought about the time she was spending
with Dr. Carroll in those terms. "Well, he chats with all of us online,
and others would come to dinner with us on Saturday night if they lived in the
area. As for phone calls and e‑mails, I have no idea."
"Well, I do. He's only one man and a very busy one right
now while he's working to get his colony organized. He simply doesn't have time
to nurture every one of his students the way he's nurturing you."
"There's no way you can know
that."
"Wake up, Sara! He is dangerous to you
and in a very personal way."
"Since when does a classy, married, former bishop pursue a tomboy who is young enough to be his
daughter? You're deranged!"
"You are no tomboy, Sara. You are a
beautiful, intense woman capable of attracting all kinds of men, even classy, married, former bishops. Get rid of your
phone, completely rid of it, and hand your computer over to your parents until
the Eden transport leaves Earth. And if Dr. Carroll tries to see you personally
in the next week, use that amazing talent of yours and run from him!"
Bishop Lanham had a lot of nerve! How dare he! Sara sprang out of her chair
and leaned over the desk. "What are you, a bishop or a dictator?"
Bishop Lanham didn't flinch. "Fidel
Castro, at your service."
What he suggested about Dr. Carroll was
absurd, a thought that refused to do so much as plant itself in Sara's mind,
much less grow there in any kind of serious way, but he was the bishop. Remorse
overwhelmed Sara. She dropped back into her chair. "I'm sorry I yelled at
you. I should repent."
"In sackcloth and ashes." Sara
knew he meant it light-heartedly, but he didn't smile. "I'm worried about
you, Sara, a hundred times more than I was when you walked in here this
evening. Please stay home and take the scholarship at the University of
Maryland."
Sara stroked the wood armrest on her chair,
staring at one of the red flowers in her pink knit dress. "You seem sure
my family won't move to Kansas City."
"Do you think they will?"
Sara shook her head.
The bishop grimaced a little in empathy.
"I know Maryland isn't BYU, but I think you'll have a good experience
there."
No one had put it to her quite that way
before, and it meant a lot coming from Bishop Lanham, who was a BYU graduate
himself. He understood. She thought her mother should understand too, but if
she did, she had never said it. "No, it isn't BYU," Sara said under
her breath.
"Neither is Eden."
Sara rested her forehead on her hand,
unable to say anything for several moments. She felt as if she were being
swallowed by darkness. Whether it was confusion, anxiety, or a hidden fear, she
didn't know. Finally she looked up at the bishop again and forced herself to
smile. "You aren't going to encourage me to go on a mission?" She was
almost twenty-one, after all, and she needed to know whether this particular
bishop knew about Novaun.
The bishop's dark brown eyebrows come
together in a queer way. "No." he said carefully. "Your father
would never forgive me."
So he
did know, and not only did he know, he believed her father would return to
Novaun in the near future and therefore wouldn't want her to commit herself to
a mission. "My father says most Novaunian women my age are already
married," Sara said slowly, painfully.
Bishop Lanham smiled a little.
"Perhaps that means Novaunian men are exceptional and irresistible."
It sounded like a joke, and Sara thought
she should laugh, but she felt her jaw tremble and her eyes burn instead. She
stared at the desk. "I can't imagine myself being married to a Novaunian
man." She couldn't help but think of Cameron Carroll and knew she would
never see him again if she went to Novaun with her father. He would slip away
from her forever and never be anything more than a memory, a dream.
The bishop's voice was gentle and earnest.
"You could do no better, Sara, than to marry a man like your father."
Sara felt the truth of Bishop Lanham's
words and nodded. Cameron had never been anything more than a girlish fantasy.
It was time she got over this silly obsession for good.
"I think if you would give your father
a chance, he would tell you things about Novaun that would diminish your
fears."
"You're probably right," Sara
conceded, meeting the bishop's gaze again, feeling almost composed.
Bishop Lanham arose from his chair.
"Why don't you ask him about it right now? You'll have plenty of time to
talk on the drive home."
Sara decided to do as Bishop Lanham
advised. As she slid into the backseat of the car and strapped herself in, she
said breezily, "Dad, I was wondering if you could tell me something about
Novaunian men."
Both of her parents turned and looked at
her in surprise. After a moment, her mother laughed and her father grinned, as
pleased as Sara had seen him in a long time. What followed were dozens of funny
stories about his brothers, his uncles, and his friends from Shalaun. Sara and
her mother were still in hysterics when they walked through the front door of
their home, and the other kids were jealous that they had missed out on all the
fun.
When Sara finally went to her room, she sat
on her bed and studied her laptop. She moved to open it several times, but
found she couldn't. Eventually she decided that she had nothing to lose by taking
the bishop's advice. She would have no contact with her Eden friends for the
rest of the week, and if on Sunday, she still felt as strongly about going to
Eden as she always had, she would be assured it really was the Lord's will. She
would go to the meeting to sustain her new bishop and renew her ties with her
Eden friends and nothing would be lost but a few pleasant hours in the chat
room and those Don Pablo's fajitas she so enjoyed.
Sara picked up her laptop and her phone and
took them down the hall to her parents' bedroom. When her mother answered the
door, Sara handed the items to her, then turned to go back to her own room, not
saying a word.
*
The next morning, Sara felt too nervous to
eat. All of her younger brothers and sisters had left for school already except
three-year-old Zack, who was playing a game on the computer. She squished her
cereal with her spoon, wishing she had been able to talk to her mother more
over the past months during this quiet morning time.
A basket of clean towels, topped with
several boxes of macaroni and cheese, slid through the basement door into the
kitchen. After Sara's mother emerged through the door, Sara blurted out before
she could change her mind, "What do you think about going to Novaun,
Mom?"
Her
mother regarded her in surprise, her features softening in pleasure. She
immediately sat down at the old cherry table across from Sara, her eyebrows
rising. "You do plan to go to
work today, don't you?"
Sara smiled and pushed the bowl of cereal aside.
"This can't be that hard. Do you like the idea of going to Novaun or don't
you?"
"Yes I do. Very much. I've known all
along, of course, that I would probably be returning to Novaun with your father
at some point in time."
"It seems there is no decision then.
Nothing to feel anxious or confused about at all."
"You have to understand, Sara, the
prospect of going to Novaun has always been a future event, always hazy. When I
try to visualize our leaving Earth, thoughts of my family and how I will miss
them so overwhelm me that I don't think I'll be able to leave at all. Then it
occurs to me that your father hasn't seen his family in ten, fifteen, and now
twenty years, and I hurt for him more than for myself, and then I think that we
must go to Novaun. Then in the middle
of all this, I realize that your father loves his life here on Earth as much as
he misses his family and that he has no idea whether or not he even wants to go back. He's very concerned
about my happiness and doesn't know whether he should take me from my family.
Not only that, but his skills are so needed at the temple."
Sara thought she understood. "I don't
suppose there are many people who can to do the ordinances in any language and
act as a translator when people from all parts of the world come to have their
work done."
"No, there aren't. Sometimes I wonder
whether we'll leave at all. I need your father to take a strong stand one way
or another, and he won't do it." Her mother tossed her hands into the air.
"So here I sit in limbo, anxious and confused."
"Sometimes I think Dad can't make a
decision to save his life!"
Her mother moaned and gripped her temples
with her hands, her eyes seeming to ignite. "Oh, he makes excellent
decisions when someone holds a gun to his head! At that point, though, I'm
usually the one who wants to kill him! He's going to make me crazy, you know
that!"
"Can't you just make the decision for
him?"
Her mother leaned on an arm. "In this
case, no. His duty to Novaun is something that transcends the desires of either
one of us. It's not something I can dictate to him or diminish. In the end,
whether we leave or not is a decision only he can make."
"Does Dad have to go back to
Novaun?"
Her mother sat up straight and rested her
hands on the light blue vinyl tablecloth. "That isn't clear. He has seven
years of information he needs to send to Novaun, but whether Novaunian Fleet
will actually order him back we won't know until someone comes for him."
"Novaunian Fleet? Is that a space
navy? Dad's a military man?"
Her mother nodded. "Through and
through. Both his family and your mother's have a long tradition in the
Fleet."
Sara looked away, attempting to digest this
new information. Just when she was on the verge of deciding it was the most
bizarre, incongruent thing she had ever heard, a hot, humid afternoon fifteen
years before poured into her memory. She and David were chasing each other
around a large cemetery in Gettysburg. Not many minutes passed before she felt
her father's hand grip her arm.
She glanced to her right and saw that his
other hand was holding David. "You will not run here," her father
said solemnly. "Or speak in loud voices. The men buried under your feet
died in defense of their homes and our freedom. This is sacred ground."
When he let go of them, David looked around
the cemetery, his playful expression softening into one of reverence. He
straightened and looked up at her father, nodding once. "I
understand."
Sara remembered how, several years later,
her father had stood as if paralyzed at the end of the Vietnam Veterans'
Memorial, staring at all of those names of soldiers who had died in the war,
tears streaming down his face. Both she and David had been shocked. "I've
never seen your father cry before, Sara," David had whispered, deeply
disturbed. Her father had reacted in a similar way at Antietam, site of the
bloodiest battle of the Civil War, and when they had gone to the Holocaust
Memorial Museum, he had been so horrified and full of grief that they had had
to leave before they saw much of the museum at all.
Sara met her mother's eyes again, nodding
thoughtfully. "I can see it. Did Dad ever go back to the Holocaust
Museum?"
"Yes," she whispered. "He
spent several days there alone. It was one of the most difficult things he's
ever had to do, but he had to see it. Novaunian Fleet needs to know the
brutality our race is capable of. He was grateful your mother had never seen
it."
So was Sara, and she didn't know why.
"I wonder if all Novaunian women are so delicate."
Her mother smiled. "All you have to do
is look in the mirror, Sara, to see a Novaunian woman. You were raised here, so
you're not as sensitive to the ugliness and violence around you as your mother
was, but in many other ways, you are very much like her."
"You speak as if you knew her."
"I do know her, in a way. Your father
has telepathically shown me many of his memories of her."
"That didn't make
you . . . uncomfortable?"
"You mean jealous?"
Sara nodded.
"Not at all. I knew from the beginning
I was getting involved with a man who had been married before. To be honest,
had your father not deeply loved your mother, I wouldn't have married him.
Because he loved your mother so much and had treated her so well, I knew he
would do the same for me."
"That's romantic logic I've never
heard before," Sara said, moved by her mother's willingness to confide in
her. "But it feels true."
"It is true. Your father may make me
crazy sometimes, but he's never disappointed me in the things that matter
most."
For the first time in six years, Sara
wanted to tell her mother about Cameron and all of the strange feelings she was
having. Maybe if she vocalized her predicament, it would disappear.
Trembling, Sara put her fingers to her
forehead, staring at the table. "This is going to sound
stupid . . ." She slid her fingers into her hair, pulling
it. "All my life . . . well, since eighth grade
anyway . . . I . . . I've been
in . . . love . . . with someone."
Feeling tears flood into her eyes and blood
into her cheeks, she gasped and dropped her head to her arms, which were folded
on the table. Her mother laid her hand on her shoulder with a gentleness that
was almost tentative, as if she weren't sure Sara would want her to touch her.
That she would wonder such a thing made Sara feel ashamed, and she lost what
little control she had left. The tears flowed and her shoulders shook, and six
years' worth of pain erupted. "I've never . . . told anyone . . .
because . . . he's never . . .
looked . . . at me twice . . .
but . . . but . . . I don't want to leave
him . . ."
When Sara's sobs faded, she felt lighter
than she had in a long time. She jumped out of her chair and went to get
tissues from the box on the kitchen counter. After wiping her eyes and blowing
her nose, she turned to her mother, who was walking toward her, her face also
wet with tears. Sara handed her a tissue. "I feel so silly. I'm too old to
have a crush. I haven't even seen him in two years. Tell me I'm being
stupid."
Her mother shook her head, pressing the
tissue to her cheeks. "I don't know what to tell you, Sara."
Sara moved toward the drawer where the
dishcloths were kept. "Don't you want to know who it is?"
Her mother leaned against the butcher-block
island. "Is he someone I know?"
Sara soaked the dishcloth with cold water
and laid it against her eyelids and cheeks. "No . . . I
mean yes . . . I mean, sort of."
"Well?"
Sara draped the dishcloth over the faucet
and turned to her mother. "Cameron Carroll." She held out her hands.
"There! That wasn't so hard."
Her mother was frowning. Sara wasn't sure
telling her about Cameron had been a good idea. She went to the refrigerator to
get several bottles of water to take with her to work, wondering what her
mother would say and wondering even more what she would say in response.
As Sara opened the fruit drawer, her mother
said, "Cameron's exceptional, Sara. There's no doubt about it. But so are
you. I don't believe--not for a moment--that he never gave you a second
look."
Sara closed the fridge door, apple in hand,
and looked at her mother in surprise. She wasn't just saying words she thought
a mother should say. She was serious. Sara relaxed, feeling liberated.
"Thank you."
*
Sara arrived at work in a thoughtful mood
and left the same way late that afternoon. She couldn't get the things her
parents had told her out of her mind. She knew her destiny lay in space. Could
it be that Novaun was her destination, not Eden at all? Underlying all of her
thoughts were emotions of gratitude to her mother for believing she was
exceptional enough to draw a second look from a guy like Cameron Carroll.
Sara took her car keys out of an outside
pocket of her backpack and threw the pack over her shoulder. She twirled the
keys on her finger and headed to her car, a pathetic eighteen-year-old red
Camaro that even her brother didn't want to drive. As she jogged, someone
stepped in front of her.
Startled, Sara looked up. Dr. Carroll stood
there, wearing a golden brown suede sports jacket over a bright aqua polo
shirt. The shirt set off his eyes and made them appear aqua. He looked so much
like Cameron at the moment that Sara's hands began to sweat and her pulse
picked up speed.
Dr. Carroll smiled in a way that suggested
he was pleased he had surprised her. "Don't I get a hello?"
Sara could feel herself smiling, no,
beaming like an idiot. She had never seen this man when he didn't make her feel
both outclassed and exhilarated. "Hi! What in the galaxy are you doing
here?" Bishop Lanham had told her to run if Dr. Carroll tried to see her
personally, but Sara found herself hugging him instead.
Dr. Carroll's breath warmed her ear as he
whispered, "If you wanted me to come to you, all you had to do was
ask."
"I would never presume," Sara
replied, happy and abashed.
Dr. Carroll released Sara and surveyed her
at arm's length, holding her hands. "I can see you're agitated. Would you
like to talk?"
"Please!"
Dr. Carroll put a hand on her back, guiding
her toward his Mercedes. "Is there somewhere in town we can get ice
cream?"
Sara directed Dr. Carroll to a frozen
yogurt shop. Dr. Carroll purchased two sundaes, then sat down across from Sara
at one of the small tables.
Dr. Carroll pushed Sara's sundae across the
table to her. "How did the interview with your bishop go last night?"
What should she tell him? "It was
strange."
"What did he say?"
Sara wanted to tell him about Novaun but
knew she shouldn't--she owed that much to her parents at least--and she couldn't
tell him about Bishop Lanham's ridiculous suspicions. "He counseled me to
take the scholarship at Maryland and to talk to my parents."
Dr. Carroll smiled. "What's so strange
about that?"
"Nothing." Sara stared at her
sundae, unable to look at Dr. Carroll directly. She couldn't avoid telling him
now. "It . . . it bothered him that you would name me 'Little
Panther' and call me sometimes." She could feel herself blush.
Sara felt Dr. Carroll place his fingers
gently under her chin. Before she knew it, she was gazing into his earnest blue
eyes. "And he told you that I'm attracted to you."
Sara nodded, feeling her blush deepen.
"When he told you that, how did it
make you feel?"
"I told him that you think of me as a
daughter," Sara whispered. "I also told him that he's deranged."
His eyes narrowed a bit, wrinkling the
little lines at the corners of his eyes. "How did he respond to
that?"
"He told me to stay away from
you."
Dr. Carroll's fingers moved to Sara's cheek
in a caress. Sara's skin grew warmer than ever under his touch. He leaned a
little closer to her, his knees touching hers under the table, compassion
smoothing away the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Why is this topic
of conversation making you so uncomfortable?"
"I didn't want to tell you."
Dr. Carroll moved his hand into her hair,
stroking it away from her face. "Why not?"
Dr. Carroll's nonchalant reaction to Bishop
Lanham's suspicions impressed Sara. A person with less class would have been
offended. "I'm embarrassed by my bishop's lack of understanding."
A golden-brown eyebrow lifted.
"According to conventional Mormon practice, my relationship with you is too affectionate."
The heat in Sara's face felt as if it were
spreading into her neck. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to
imply . . ."
"This doesn't have to be so difficult,
Sara," he said softly. "You can talk to me about anything. Don't you
know that?"
"I always thought so," Sara said,
and she meant it. Why was this topic
of conversation so difficult?
Dr. Carroll laid his hands over Sara's.
Feeling his warmth, Sara realized her hands were clutching her cup of frozen
yogurt. He lifted her cold hands and pressed them against her cheeks, smiling.
The tenderness of the gesture elated Sara.
"You are so incredible!" She had almost allowed Bishop Lanham to talk
her out of going to Eden. What had she been thinking? "I can't believe how
tuned into me you are."
He squeezed her hands, then released them
and folded his arms on the table, pushing his sundae toward her a little.
"It isn't difficult to tune into a kindred spirit." He seemed to be
choosing his words carefully, his eyes never leaving hers.
Sara lowered her hands to the table, so
touched she felt as if she were trembling and giddy. "We have become good
friends, haven't we?" Who would have ever thought it?
Dr. Carroll nodded, barely. After a moment,
he said, "Sara I . . ." He stopped and surveyed her
thoughtfully.
Sara laid her hand on his arm. "What
is it, Dr. Carroll?"
The corners of his mouth turned up a tiny
bit, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to smile. "There's so much I'd
like to talk to you about, but sadly, this isn't the time."
Sara couldn't help but be curious. He
seemed so serious. She didn't want to press him, but she didn't want him to
feel as if she didn't care either. "Perhaps when we get to Eden."
"Perhaps. Are you getting
excited?"
Sara smiled and relaxed, dipping her spoon
into her frozen yogurt. "I've been excited for months! Or couldn't you
tell?"
*
Trendaul came home from an unusual day at
the temple to find Teri on the verge of laughter and tears. She threw her arms
around him and squeezed. "She's softening, Tren! This morning she didn't
just talk to me, she confided in me,
something she's been holding inside for six years. And she cried. She laid her
head on the table and sobbed like a baby."
Trendaul pulled away from Teri enough so
that he could look at her. "She sobbed? Sara?" Could it be possible? Could Sara really be coming back
to them?
Trendaul wondered what kind of secret would
have come out with so much emotion, but he didn't press Teri for details he
knew she wouldn't give. His hope grew as the afternoon waned.
When Sara didn't come home from work at the
time she was supposed to, however, a feeling of dread stifled Trendaul's hope.
Something was wrong. He called the health club and found out that Sara had left
more than an hour before.
After Trendaul put the phone in its cradle
on the kitchen desk, he heard the front door slam shut. He and Teri looked at
each other anxiously, then stepped into the hall. Sara tossed her backpack into
the closet and hung up her jacket. "Where have you been, Sara?"
Trendaul asked gently.
Sara straightened and turned to him, her
expression cool. "What is this? An interrogation?"
Trendaul glanced at Teri. She watched Sara
cautiously. "We were worried about you."
Sara
shrugged as she moved toward the stairs. "I don't know why. All I did was
go have yogurt with a friend." She disappeared, her feet light on the
stairs above him.
"Something happened, Tren."
Trendaul heard the upstairs floorboards
squeak in the vicinity of the master bedroom. Teri pushed past him and ran down
the hall and up the stairs. Trendaul followed in strides.
Sara came out of the bedroom, carrying her
computer and phone, and tried to push past Teri to get to her own bedroom. Teri,
though, wouldn't budge. She gripped Sara's shoulders and gazed at her in
determination. "Please talk to us, Sara."
Sara tried to shake Teri's hands away.
"Get your hands off of me!"
"Not until you tell us who you've been
with the last hour."
"You'll just get angry at me! I'm
tired of your abuse."
Trendaul stopped on the stair below the
landing, consumed by frustration. "It was Barbara Carroll, wasn't
it."
Sara's looked at him in astonishment.
"No! I haven't met with Sister Carroll more than twice in my life. Dr.
Carroll was the one I was with."
Trendaul was certain he hadn't heard Sara
correctly. Teri pulled her hands away from Sara's shoulders, staring at her in
horror and grief.
"He's the one I know." Sara shook
her head, her cheeks flushed and her eyes brilliant. "He's so amazing! He
sensed that I was confused and drove all the way over here to talk to me."
Trendaul sagged against the wall. Sara's
situation was far worse than he had believed. Benjamin Carroll was doing everything
in his power to make sure she didn't change her mind about going to Eden.
Trendaul could think of only one thing that would motivate the man to take such
a personal interest in his little girl.
Teri gazed at Sara with surprising empathy.
"He isn't who he looks like, Sara."
"What . . . do you
mean?"
"You know what I mean. Please be careful. We know you wouldn't
want to get romantically involved with a married man, even
unintentionally."
Sara groaned and rolled her eyes. "Not
you too!"
Teri wouldn't let it go. "Who, Sara?
Who else? The bishop?"
Bishop Lanham had to have a reason for
suspecting Benjamin Carroll was pursuing his daughter. What else had happened? Dear Father, Trendaul begged, what am I supposed to do? Why hasn't that man
been excommunicated?
Sara was usually skilled at dealing with
men, a talent acquired through summers of being the companion of David and his
friends. Despite the difference in their ages, Sara had always been David's
equal, and Trendaul had long believed that if Sara could handle David, she
could handle any man. David, though, as overbearing as he could be, was as
guileless as Sara and so were his friends. Benjamin Carroll was a different
breed--a sophisticated hypocrite. The threat from him was too subtle. By the
time Sara woke up to what was going on, it might be too late. Dear Father, how do I save my daughter?
Sara shook her head at Teri. "You're
all wrong! It isn't like that!"
"What is it like?"
Trendaul's first thought was that he should
give Benjamin Carroll's bishop a call, then his wife. After that, he would pay
a visit to the man himself. Trendaul's second thought, far more compelling than
the first, was that he should let it go, that he should let her go; she had moved beyond his reach.
Trendaul struggled against this thought--it seemed too wrong--and then the
third thought came, even more compelling than the other two. The Lord was aware
of Sara's danger and had provided an escape for her.
A new vision of Sara's future burst into
Trendaul's mind, stunning him with its brilliancy. The solution was so simple
Trendaul wanted to laugh at himself for not seeing it sooner. Sara's life on
Eden would be turbulent but happy, provided she was sensible enough to make her
escape when the opportunity presented itself. All Trendaul could do now was
prepare her for what was coming.
Sara glared at Teri. "You can think
what you want, but you can't stop me from going to Eden."
Trendaul stepped up to the landing and
rested his hand on Sara's arm. "We know." He didn't dare look at
Teri, afraid she would be angry with him for giving in so easily. He would
explain everything to her later. "There's only one thing I'm afraid we'll
have to insist on. We want to be with you Sunday when you sustain your new
bishop."
David Pierce lifted Sara out of the van and
heaved her over his shoulder like a duffel bag, Sara's brothers and sisters
cheering him on.
"Go Navy!"
"Go Uncle David!"
"What do you think you're doing,
David?" Sara demanded. David and his midshipmen friends Dan, Mike, and Tim
had attended church with Sara and her family that morning. She knew they were
excited about the Naval Academy's win over Georgia Tech the day before, but
this was going too far.
"We're taking you to Bancroft Hall,
where you will be our guest for a few days."
Before Sara could completely comprehend Tim's
statement, she felt David's arm clamp down around her thighs as he strode across
the lawn, heading for the street, flanked by Dan, Mike, and Tim. She couldn't
go to Annapolis. She was leaving for Eden the next morning.
Sara kicked him again and again, but he
didn't flinch. "You can't do this, David! You have no right!" She
tried to twist herself out of David's grip. "I'm not a plebe you can order
around!" David's arm didn't budge.
"We're not going to let you go to Eden
and ruin your life!" Mike said.
"I'll report you to the
superintendent!" Sara screamed as she struggled. "You'll all get
expelled!"
David chuckled wickedly, tightening his
hold on Sara. "And just who will he believe? His brigade commander, or a
hysterical girl?"
"You'll be forced to enlist in Star
Force and be ordered around by those Federalist worms you so despise!"
"Even your parents will side with
me!"
This was absurd! David hadn't become the
highest-ranking midshipman by doing things like hiding young civilian women in
his quarters. "You are answerable to the Honor Concept, Midshipman Pierce!"
"And if the truth is ever told, it'll
be too late for you!" Dan said.
Sara felt sick. David had always been so
scrupulous that none of the officers would ever believe he would do something
so outrageous. If he wanted to hold her prisoner in Bancroft Hall until the
shuttle to the Eden transport left Earth, he could do it, and no one who
mattered would ever know.
Off to the side Sara heard her mother say
with that familiar tone of command, "Put her down, David. None of us want
her to go, but this isn't the way."
"It's just going to have to be the
way, Teri, since your husband is too spineless to do what needs to be
done!"
A door opened on David's car. Certainly he
wouldn't really go through with it. Not David, who would rather die than ever
disobey an order or be anything but perfect. Still, Sara couldn't be sure. She
said in desperation, "I'll stay home and not go to Eden if you'll go home
to Kansas City."
All of a sudden David released his hold on
Sara and allowed her to slide off his shoulder and onto her feet. His hazel
eyes stared down at her in protest. "You know I can't do that."
Sara knew she had struck a nerve. "I
mean it, David. If you go home, I'll stay home." She had no doubt she
would be leaving for Eden the next day.
"I have a duty to my brigade and to my
country!"
David was scrupulous and exceptionally
driven by duty as it was. Sometimes Sara thought the Navy had turned him into a
monster. She rolled her eyes. "Well aren't you the perfect poster boy for
the Nationalists."
David grabbed Sara's shoulders and gave her
a shake. "I will do my duty to
my brigade."
Sara gave up a smile, finding it impossible
to stay angry with him. David might be uptight, but he was sincere. "Of
course you will. And I'll go to Eden."
David released Sara's shoulders. "You
don't have the commitment to the Eden Colony that I have to the Navy," he
said quietly. "You know that if I resign now, I could be sent anywhere. At
least here I'm near Teri and your father."
"Until they move to Kansas City."
Sara reached into the left pocket of his suit jacket, where he kept pieces of
chocolate for young women.
David glanced at Sara's parents
thoughtfully, then shook his head. "No. They'll have a house in Kensington
soon. Your father is tied to this area for some reason."
Sara longed to discuss all of the new
things she had learned about herself and her father with David but knew it was
not her place to divulge her father's secret. She popped a piece of chocolate
into her mouth, shrugging. "He's probably waiting to get a visit from his
long-lost brother, or something."
David looked at her strangely. "What
are you talking about? Your father has no family."
"That's what you think. They're just
so far away we've never met them. Why don't you ask him about it
sometime."
Sara thought about how easily her father
talked with all of the midshipmen David brought to their home and how
interested he always was in their classes, their cruises, their families, and
their traditions. She remembered how fascinated he had been when they had taken
a tour of the Naval Academy so many years ago and how David had ignored her
that day and had become her father's little shadow. No one in her mother's
family had ever understood why David felt so driven to be a naval officer, but
now she did. He had been inadvertently influenced in that direction by her
father. Sara thought David deserved to know.
David turned again to look at Sara's
parents, his curiosity piqued. "Hey, Teri," he called. "I'm
spending the night."
*
Sara walked past the flagpole at the
Washington, D.C. Stake Center in Kensington, Maryland as she approached the
door, buoyant with excitement. For the first time she would see the members of
the colony as a group and sustain Dr. Carroll as her new bishop. Most
satisfying of all, her parents and David were there to witness her triumph.
David's classmates had gone back to Annapolis.
As Sara stepped into the foyer, she turned
sharply to the left and saw Cameron Carroll standing at the chapel doors with
his mother, waiting to greet people as they entered. Sara was so shocked that
she couldn't move forward another step.
Cameron couldn't be there. He was in China.
What had he done to get sent home from his mission? Was he ill? The camel-brown
suit didn't fit him as immaculately as Sara remembered. It was loose, as if he
had lost weight. That didn't mean he was ill, though. He hadn't been in
training for two years at least, so perhaps it was inevitable that he would now
have the svelte body of a runner rather than the muscular body of a sprinter.
Sister Barbara Thomassen Carroll extended
her hand to Sara's parents, greeting them graciously. Sara's mind was too
distracted to assimilate what was being said, but after a moment, Cameron
abruptly turned his attention from them to her, his eyes immobile with
incredulity and his lips parted in horror.
Sara wasn't sure whether all of her dreams
were coming true, or all of her nightmares. The great Cameron Carroll recognized
her in a significant way, but on recognizing her was reacting with horror, not
happiness. Sara averted her gaze, feeling queasy. Why hadn't they come in on
the other side of the building? She had to move, but couldn't.
Cameron's golden-brown eyebrows drew
together, as if he were puzzled. He raised his hand toward her and moved his
finger slightly, as if he were motioning her to approach him. Her hand felt
like granite as she lifted it to her heart with a touch. She raised her
eyebrows and mouthed the word, "Me?" He nodded once at her, still
gazing at her over her mother's shoulder.
Sara slowly walked toward Cameron. As she
approached the chapel, she realized the hymn "If You Could Hie to
Kolob" was being played on the piano. Sister Carroll took her hand in
greeting, still speaking to her father. "So many preparations to make! And
my son chooses to hide out in the temple all week."
"I can't think of a better way to
prepare to go to Eden," her father observed.
"I think you've seen him more than I
have."
Any other time Sara would have been
concerned that her father would say something to embarrass her, but Cameron
Carroll consumed her attention. Sara couldn't move her eyes away from his.
"You . . . you know me?" she whispered. Those
long-lashed aqua eyes were even more beautiful than she remembered, especially
now that they were fixed on her.
Cameron's flushed face relaxed a little,
and he looked as though he were on the verge of smiling. "The queen is
puzzled her subject knows her?"
Before Sara could ask Cameron what he
meant, Sister Carroll said, squeezing her hand, "It's good to see you
again, Sara! We're pleased to welcome you into the Colony."
Sara reluctantly turned her attention to
Sister Carroll, aware that Cameron was still staring at her. She was both
uncomfortable and dying of curiosity. "I'm thrilled to be here."
Sister Carroll smiled knowingly and laid
Sara's hand in Cameron's. Only now did Sara notice Sister Carroll's perfectly
manicured hands, with their luxurious gold rings and nails painted creamy
apricot to match her blouse. Sara and Cameron shook hands as expected. "I
would introduce you to my son Cameron, but it appears you already know each
other."
Cameron's hand was hot and trembling.
"Actually, this is the first time we've ever met."
"That's interesting," David
observed in a tone that said, "I'd better know everything about this guy
before the day's over." Sara could almost see him look at her mother with
raised eyebrows.
The intensity of emotion Sara felt in
Cameron's touch confused her. For the time being he seemed as excited to touch
her as he had been horrified to see her only moments before. One thing was
certain--seeing her disturbed him. What did it mean? She had never felt so self-conscious.
She tried to withdraw her hand, but Cameron's grip tightened.
"I saw Cameron for the first time at a
regional dance," Sara said to Sister Carroll, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Sara was always the dance
queen," Cameron explained. "At every dance she would ask virtually
every guy there to dance at least once at some point in the evening."
"Then you have met," Sister
Carroll said, her lips touched with a smile. She glanced toward Sara's mother,
her golden-brown brows lifting briefly.
"No," Cameron said carefully,
watching Sara's face with curiosity. His voice sounded strained as he said,
"When I said virtually, I meant virtually."
"That is interesting," Sara's
father commented.
Of course, Sara had never asked anyone Cameron
was standing around with on any given evening to dance either, but apparently
she hadn't been subtle enough in her exclusion. Cameron had noticed that in
four years attending youth dances she had asked every boy in his stake to dance
but him.
Sara felt David's eyes burning a hole in
the side of her head. Thankfully he didn't say anything. Sara wanted to run and
hide in the car until the meeting was underway. She would slip in, sit at the
back, and sustain the new bishop unnoticed. Eventually, however, she knew she
would have to face Cameron Carroll. With this knowledge, she collected her wits
and determined to get into the chapel with as much dignity as possible.
"If I was the queen of dance, then
Cameron was the king of class," Sara explained to Sister Carroll. "If
I had had more class myself, perhaps I could have worked up the nerve to ask
him to dance."
"Since when did you become such a
coward?" David said in disbelief.
Sara shot a glare at David. Then to Sister
Carroll's amazement and Cameron's shock, she bowed her head to Cameron and kissed
his hand. "Forgive me, your majesty. I was concerned at the time that I'd
make a complete fool of myself. Obviously my concern was justified." As
she lifted her head she noticed the clip on his aqua tie displaying three
Chinese characters; she assumed that they, in some fashion, stood for
"CTR" or "Choose the Right."
When Sara looked at Cameron's face again,
she shrugged slightly and smiled tentatively, begging him with her eyes not to
think she was too much of an idiot. The flush in his cheeks deepened, bleeding
into the tips of his ears. Had he been anyone but Cameron Carroll, he would
have looked ridiculous.
Sara realized that Cameron wasn't as
polished and as sure of himself as she had always believed. His little-boy
uneasiness made him seem real and accessible, warming her all over. She
squeezed his hand and withdrew hers with a smile. "I'm glad to finally
meet you, Cameron."
Sister Carroll gazed keenly at Sara,
directing her words at Sara's mother. "You have a beautiful daughter,
Sister Alexander, and she has quite a bit more savoir-faire than she thinks she
does."
"I always thought so."
Sara felt her mother's hand on her back,
pushing her toward the chapel. She moved forward in relief. She heard her
father behind her say: "You're a good man, Cameron. I wish things could be
different for you."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Cameron
said, his voice an agonized whisper.
Sara finally awoke to the fact that her
father and Cameron had met in the temple the previous week. She didn't think it
was strange--her father was always meeting interesting people in the
temple--but it did make her uncomfortable. What had they talked about? Sara
wondered how her father would answer Cameron now. Why hadn't he told Cameron
that she was going to Eden too? Did her father still think she would change her
mind?
"I don't know. For some reason I just
couldn't."
"Perhaps it's better this way. Thank
you for everything, Brother Alexander."
As
Sara entered the chapel she observed, in surprise, that Tony Wright was the one
playing "If You Could Hie to Kolob" on the piano. He was wearing a
pale gray suit that he had jazzed up with a bright blue shirt, and he had
trimmed his light brown beard. The piano was located in an unusual position, at
the front of the platform and to her far left.
Before anything else could register, Sara
felt a hand on her elbow. She turned to face Cameron Carroll again. He smiled,
and Sara thought she would melt right there on the spot. "The king
requests a private audience with the queen."
Sara motioned her parents and David to go
on without her. They did so with interest as she allowed Cameron to guide her
through the overflow area behind the chapel and into the cultural hall.
Once they were standing alone amid rows of
empty chairs, Cameron gazed at Sara gravely. "Why are you here,
Sara?"
What an odd question! "To sustain a
bishop with the other colonists. Why did you think?"
"I don't understand why you're going
to Eden at all."
What was he asking? Did he doubt her
qualifications? "It's an incredible opportunity. I'm going to study
journalism with your mother. She interviewed me herself."
"It doesn't disturb you that the
prophet has counseled members of the Church to remain on Earth and have no
contact whatsoever with the Zarrists?"
Cameron's question dumbfounded her. He
could have been reciting a script written by her father or Bishop Lanham. She
tried to tear her eyes away from his but couldn't. He gazed at her probingly,
as if he were trying to analyze thoughts and feelings even she didn't realize
she possessed yet.
"Well?" Cameron persisted.
Sara surprised herself by saying,
"Yes. I guess it does. A little."
"Then why are you here?"
Sara loosened her muscles in an attempt to
relax and compose herself. She reminded herself that Nephi had been disturbed
when the Spirit had told him to kill Laban. Of course he had been disturbed.
But killing Laban had been the right thing to do. "Why are you?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"And you didn't answer mine."
The corner of Cameron's mouth lifted in a
wry little smile. "It seems my family needs me."
Sara still wondered why he wasn't in China.
"Is that why you came home?"
"Apparently so."
"Apparently?
Don't you know?"
"I didn't come home. I was called home."
Cameron was trying to tell her something,
and Sara knew she wasn't getting it. "I don't understand."
"You will. Why are you here?"
"Because I believe in your father's
vision of Zion."
"My father isn't a prophet."
"But he is a great leader and a
righteous man."
"How do you know he's righteous?"
"What an odd thing for you to
say!"
"No it isn't. How do you know what's
in my father's heart?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Things aren't always what they
seem."
"Your father is no hypocrite!"
"Perhaps not, but a well-meaning
person can be confused."
Sara didn't like Cameron's attitude. He
reminded her too much of her father. "Why don't you just come right out
and call your father an apostate? Perhaps our new ward should be called the
Eden Colony Ward of Apostates. While you're at it, why don't you go ahead and
put yourself at the top of the list of apostates, since, unless I've
misunderstood you, you're planning to go to Eden with the rest of us!"
Cameron stepped away from Sara as if
struck. "Don't do this, Sara. Don't go to Eden." Anguish saturated
his voice. "Please."
"Obviously you're the one who's the
hypocrite!" Sara spun around and strode back into the chapel and toward
the pew where her parents and David were sitting near the front of the chapel.
Tony looked her way as he finished "If You Could Hie to Kolob" and
made a face. He leaned back with his hands in the air, as if he wanted to say,
"Ouch! Who bit you? Don't you come near me!" Sara shook her head at
him and rolled her eyes. He grinned and began playing a perky "There Is
Sunshine in My Soul Today."
"What did Cameron want?" Sara's
mother whispered as Sara sat down.
"To tell me I should follow the
counsel of the prophet and stay on Earth." Of all the nerve! Cameron wasn't
her father. Or her bishop. She barely even knew him.
"And you, of course, berated
him," David whispered pleasantly.
"What else could I have done? What a
hypocrite!"
"Lower your voice!" her mother
said. "And what's wrong with you, anyway? Haven't you noticed? He's crazy
about you!"
"No, just crazy!" Cameron really
was the family lunatic!
Sara's father leaned forward and whispered,
"Cameron isn't a hypocrite, and he isn't crazy. He's a righteous young man
who knows that going to Eden is wrong."
Sara did not like her father's implication
that Cameron was righteous and she was not. "If he really feels that way,
then he should stay here. Obviously he's not only a hypocrite, but a coward who
doesn't have the backbone to stand up to his parents."
Sara's mother shook her head in
exasperation. "You're the one who's crazy, Sara!"
Sara's father turned and looked
thoughtfully at the back of the chapel. Sara followed the line of his vision
and saw Cameron in the cultural hall where she had left him, standing by
himself with an arm folded over his waist and his face bowed into his hand. Her
father said with feeling, "You're wrong about Cameron, Sara. You of all
people ought to know what that boy is made of; you've been studying him long
enough."
Sara instantly felt ashamed. Her father was
right; Cameron was as determined as anyone she had ever known and had never
been a coward. Her mother was right also; she really was crazy. She had wanted
to know Cameron for six years, and the first time she talked with him she had
practically yelled at him! His feelings about Eden surprised her, but they
changed nothing. She still loved him, and he liked her too, enough that her
criticism had hurt him. What was wrong with her?
Cameron seemed now to be struggling with an
enormous burden, and Sara perceived that he was going to Eden out of a sense of
duty, not desire. Her anger disappeared. She wondered what was going on inside
of his head. Before Sara knew what she was doing, she stood up and wound her
way to the cultural hall. When she was standing in front of Cameron, she held
out her hand to him and said lightly, "Would you like to dance?"
Cameron looked up at her abruptly, his eyes
wary, but he played along. He took her hand and drew her closer. "I was
hoping you would ask."
Sara couldn't restrain her curiosity.
"If you wanted to dance with me, why didn't you ask?"
Cameron shrugged, ever so slightly. "I
didn't think you wanted to dance with me."
His response astonished Sara. Was he really
so modest? Or was he naïve? "How could any girl not want to dance with
you?"
Cameron looked from one side to the other,
then turned slightly and looked over his shoulder. "I don't see any
monsters here. Nothing to frighten anyone."
"You're right, and I don't see any
now, but at the time you always seemed so . . ." Sara
paused, searching for the right word. "Urbane." She held out the side
of her denim skirt with the hand that wasn't holding Cameron's, painfully aware
of her bright pink knit shirt and black vinyl shoes purchased at a discount
store. She had attempted to buy a suit once but had known she would never wear
it when she saw her reflection in the mirror. "And I'm
so . . ."
"Beautiful," Cameron said softly,
taking her other hand in his.
Cameron's sweet-tempered sincerity charmed
Sara. She owed him the truth, as difficult as it was to admit. "I don't
think I was afraid of you personally. As far as I can tell, you've never been
unkind to anyone. It wasn't that."
She lowered her eyes and her voice. "I
think it was that I couldn't bear the thought that you, of all people, would
treat me like one of the guys." Talking about her inadequacies was even
more painful than she had thought it would be. "I . . . I
didn't know to dress . . . or act . . . to make
it otherwise."
Sara's eyes followed her hand as Cameron
lifted it to his lips. He gazed at her over her knuckles, his eyes earnest.
"A servant would treat his beautiful queen as one of the guys?
Unthinkable."
He was almost too nice, which made Sara
feel more ashamed than ever for the way she had spoken to him before. "Oh,
Cameron . . . I'm so sorry for calling you an apostate and a
hypocrite. You caught me off guard, but that was no excuse."
Cameron smiled, lowering her hand. "I
forgive you. Now will you stay?"
"No. I'm afraid you're stuck with
me."
"There's nothing I can say that will
persuade you."
"Not a thing. If you don't believe me,
ask my parents. You seem to know my father well enough." She looked at him
expectantly.
"Yes, I did meet your father last
week. And yes, I knew he was your father. And yes, he did know who I was. He
remembered me from all of the track meets and assumed you and I were friends.
And no, I'm not going to tell you any more about it. Not yet. He did tell me,
though, that you placed third in the 200 and seventh in the 100 at the NCAA
championships." He released her hands and gave her a thumbs-up. "You're
incredible! Congratulations!"
"Thanks! It was an incredible
opportunity. It felt strange your not being there too."
"It's enough for me that you were
there. I was where I wanted and needed to be. It was thrilling, Sara! China is
literally exploding with the Spirit right now! It was a glorious thing to be a
part of, and I wouldn't trade my experience for anything."
Sara smiled and nodded, shivering with
admiration. "I know." She knew the Beijing Temple had been dedicated
a mere month before; the Shanghai Temple would be dedicated that week.
"Did you get a chance to go to the temple there before you left?"
"I did. I was able to attend the
dedication and go through a session. I attended several sealings also, for
people I had baptized early in my mission." Cameron sat down in a folding
chair.
Sara automatically sat down next to him.
"How long have you been home?"
"I flew into Baltimore on
Monday." To Sara's amazement, Cameron took her hand in his again. Could it
be true? Was it possible Cameron Carroll wanted her to be more than just a
friend?
Cameron's fingers caressed the back of her
hand. "Do you mind?" He was so close that Sara could see the perfect
purity of the aqua in his eyes. Not one tiny fleck marred the clarity of the
color. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.
Sara smiled and shook her head. He smiled,
and she blushed, unable to restrain herself from whispering what was in her
heart, "I've missed you so much, Cameron."
"I've missed you too, Sara."
Tony began playing "Love One
Another" with embellishments and passion. Realizing that he had just
finished played "Love One Another" in the normal way, Sara abruptly
turned toward him. He looked right at her and grinned, or appeared to anyway.
He was far enough away that she couldn't be sure.
"The pianist seems to be amused that
we . . . uh . . . know each other so well,"
Cameron observed. "He must be a friend of yours."
Sara nodded. "His name is Tony
Wright."
"Tony Wright?" Cameron said
thoughtfully, looking toward the piano again. "How do you know him?"
Sara explained about the Don Pablo's group
and all the time she had spent online talking with the other colonists. "I
have a confession to make," she said cautiously. "I've read all of
your e-mails."
Cameron appeared puzzled. "E-mails?"
"The e-mails you sent to your family
while you were on your mission. They're on your family's web site. Didn't you
know?"
"I'd forgotten. I never had time to
look at the web site." Cameron gazed at Sara tenderly. "You read all
of them?"
Sara nodded. She wasn't ready yet to tell
him that she had practically memorized them.
"And you were surprised by my feelings
about Eden?"
"The e-mails I read said nothing about
Eden." Tony finished "Love One Another" and began playing
"I Stand All Amazed."
Cameron shook his head. "It figures my
father wouldn't have included those."
His fingers began trembling as he stroked her hand. "I'm thrilled you
would want to read my e-mails. I wish I had known you were interested. I would
have written to you directly."
The thought was too wonderful to believe.
"Really?"
"You doubt?" Cameron squeezed
Sara's hand. "I guess, then, I'd better make my confession. I used to read
all of the Carroll County newspapers online, looking for information about
you." He reached into a pocket in his pants and brought out his wallet,
which required some awkward maneuvering since he didn't want to let go of her
while he did it. He opened it and pulled two laminated pictures out of the bill
holder and handed them to her.
Sara looked at the two pictures in shock.
Both were newspaper pictures of her that had been printed out on the computer.
One was her senior picture, and the other was of her after she had finished her
state championship run of the 100 as a junior. She handed the pictures back to
him, her eyes meeting his again in awe.
Cameron dropped the pictures into his shirt
pocket. "Do you still doubt?"
Sara shook her head, barely, feeling as if
her life had been turned inside out. A few minutes of unreserved conversation
had clarified the status of her relationship with Cameron. They were already
more than friends and had been for a long time.
"When I found out I was going to
Eden," Cameron said, "I knew I would never see you again. I thought
it would be better if I threw the pictures away, but I couldn't bring myself to
do it."
His feelings, so like hers, inspired her to
find her voice. "I finally told my mom. It was my way, I guess, of
throwing you out of my heart. It might have worked."
Cameron smiled. "I'm glad it didn't."
A family sat down in the overflow area not
far from where Sara and Cameron were sitting. Sara leaned toward Cameron and
said in a low voice, "It looks as though our privacy's being invaded. It
must be about time to go in."
Cameron glanced at his watch, then tugged
on her hand. "You're right," he said reluctantly. "It is
time." Once they were on their feet, he held out his arm to her.
"Please lead me to the dance floor, fair queen."
Sara took Cameron's arm in delight and
walked back into the chapel with him. Tony raised an eyebrow at Sara, cocking
his head at Cameron in interest while he finished played "I Stand All
Amazed." As Sara and Cameron sat down in her family's pew, Tony started
playing "Choose the Right." Cameron removed the Chinese CTR clip from
his tie and held it up for Tony to see, then clipped it onto the neckline of
Sara's shirt. Tony smiled, nodding his approval.
Sara wanted to laugh. "Don't tell me
you're one of those returned missionaries who supposedly proposes on the first
date."
The corner of Cameron's mouth lifted in a
mischievous way. "Perhaps we should take a walk to the temple. That way I
could do it properly."
A hand rested on Cameron's shoulder from
behind. Sara looked up and saw Dr. Carroll standing in the aisle, regarding
them curiously.
"Son, I can't tell you how intrigued I
am to see you on such friendly terms with one of the brightest of Eden's young
stars." Dr. Carroll moved into the pew in front of them, knelt forward,
and held his hand out to Sara.
Sara took Dr. Carroll's hand, leaning
forward a little. "Good evening, Dr. Carroll."
"Why didn't you tell me, Sara, that
you were so well acquainted with Cameron?" Tony finished playing a verse
of "Choose the Right" and began playing another.
Sara could scarcely contain her happiness.
"Cameron and I seem to have done the impossible. We've become quite well
acquainted without ever speaking to each other."
"You had never spoken to each other
before today?"
"I didn't think she liked me."
"I didn't think he knew I
existed."
Dr. Carroll patted Sara's hand. "You're
telling me that had my son not been so bashful, you and I would have had the
pleasure of getting to know each other years ago?"
Sara withdrew her hand and relaxed against
the pew. "Cameron was always so dazzling. He made me bashful."
Dr. Carroll laughed under his breath.
"You bashful, Sara? I don't believe it."
Sara turned so that she could face Cameron.
"When did you realize I existed,
Cameron?"
"My first youth dance. You were so
beautiful that you dazzled me,
Sara."
"Why didn't you ask her to
dance?"
Cameron turned to his father with a little
shrug. "I thought she was seventeen."
"Really?" Sara said in
astonishment.
"You were so . . .
well, you looked seventeen, and it
didn't occur to me that a girl barely fourteen would feel so comfortable asking
juniors and seniors to dance."
"Oh that was nothing! You have to
understand, I've spent my life hanging out with a guy three years older than I
am." Sara elbowed David.
Cameron laughed softly; Dr. Carroll
chuckled. Tony finished playing "Choose the Right" and searched for
another hymn.
"My uncle, Dr. Carroll, David
Pierce." Sara hoped she wouldn't have to introduce Dr. Carroll to her
parents. They were so disgusted with him that she wasn't sure they could speak
to him civilly.
David shook Dr. Carroll's hand, then
elbowed Sara. "I taught Sara everything she's knows, didn't I, Sara."
Sara grunted. "Hardly! I taught you
how to run."
"I taught you how to hit a baseball
and skate."
"I taught you how to shoot baskets and
dance."
Dr. Carroll watched their game with
interest. When Tony began playing "Love at Home," Cameron laughed. He
must have thought he was being too loud, because he quickly stopped himself.
"I didn't
teach her how to kiss."
Sara made a face. "Don't be
gross!"
David gave Sara a little shove in Cameron's
direction. "That honor obviously belongs to you, Cameron."
Sara felt a hand squeeze her shoulder, and
heard Dr. Carroll say with a chuckle as he walked away, "I think it's more
likely Little Cougar will be giving lessons to him."
Cameron tensed, his hand involuntarily
tightening on Sara's arm. Nobody said anything for many moments.
David finally broke the silence. "That
comment was completely disgusting. He flatters you, Sara, and in the same
breath humiliates his son. What kind of father does that?"
"Don't be absurd, David. It was a
joke!"
"Then why aren't any of us
laughing?"
"Dr. Carroll would never intentionally
humiliate anyone."
"You mark my words, moron. That man is
a tyrant, and he's going to grind your face into the dirt. I'm sorry, Cameron.
I know he's your father, and I'm sure it pains you to hear the truth spoken so
bluntly, but someone has to pound some sense into Sara."
Cameron moved closer to Sara to talk to
David. "I almost pity my father. I wouldn't want you to be my enemy."
The wonderful feel and smell of him so overwhelmed Sara that she thought she
might hyperventilate. She was surprised to find that Cameron's hair smelled
like plain old dandruff shampoo. His father always smelled expensive.
David leaned a little more toward Cameron,
lowering his voice. "Dr. Expert Psychologist obviously knows nothing about
how Sara interacts with men, Cameron, so don't let what he said disturb
you." Tony began playing a new hymn, and David softly sang along:
"Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom
fly . . ." David sat back against the pew. "Your
pianist friend is merciless, Sara. I like him."
Before Sara could reply, Cameron pulled her
to her feet as he stood. The rumble of voices in the chapel faded as President
William Grant of the First Presidency of the Church entered with Presidents
Rowe and Damazo of the Washington, D.C. Temple Community presidency. They took
their seats on the stand immediately instead of lingering in the aisles to
shake hands.
Sara was still amazed a member of the First
Presidency of the Church was there in person to organize their new ward. By the
time President Grant had come to the pulpit to start the meeting, everyone was
seated and silent.
President Grant announced that the opening
song would be "I Believe in Christ" and introduced Tony and the
chorister, a tall, light-haired guy named Brent Hall. Sara whispered to
Cameron, "I met Brent when I was at BYU."
"Where's he from?"
"Layton, Utah. He and Tony must have
been called into the elders quorum presidency or something. How else would
President Grant know them?" She removed a hymnbook from the holder on the
pew in front of her.
"Perhaps they're in the bishopric,"
Cameron whispered.
"Yeah, right! Tony's only twenty-four,
and Brent's twenty-one!" Sara began flipping through the hymnbook to find
the song.
"If the Lord can call young men to be
prophets, why not members of a bishopric?"
It should have been a joke, but Cameron's
tone was too serious. And he was right. The names of many young prophets came
immediately into Sara's mind. Enoch, Joseph, Samuel, and Daniel. Nephi, Jacob,
and Mormon. Joseph Smith. John the Baptist and the Lord himself, who had been
far more than a prophet. Sara leaned a little closer to Cameron. "You
really think it's possible Tony could have been called into the
bishopric?"
Cameron nodded a little, appearing as
disconcerted as she felt. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something,
then closed it again. He reached out to help Sara hold the hymnbook, a gesture
that ended up being nothing more than an excuse to maintain his hold on her
hand. The eagerness of his touch sent shivers through Sara and made her light-headed.
He certainly wasn't being bashful tonight! Her eyes followed the words and
music of the song, but Cameron's presence so consumed her that she couldn't
sing more than a few measures. Cameron didn't sing much either.
After the song, Russ Brodsky gave the
opening prayer. Sara didn't need to hear his name announced to know who he was.
He looked just like his video image, with rich olive skin, dark eyes, and curly
dark brown hair that fell loosely on his forehead. "Russ is your mother's
other protégé," Sara whispered to Cameron. "He's from Chicago."
"Do you know him?"
"I've never met him in person, but I've
communicated with him online often. Not as often as with Tony, though."
"Did you and Tony ever go out?"
"No. I'm not sure why, because we get
along amazingly well. I guess it never felt right to either one of us."
When President Grant came to the pulpit
again, he said, "Because we as the First Presidency are concerned that
nearly all of you have been deceived and truly do not comprehend the danger of
your course, we are organizing the Eden Colony Ward. The Eden Colony Ward will
not be affiliated with a stake or district but will be under the direct
authority of the First Presidency. The ward organization will give you both spiritual
and physical protection and will enable you to repent of your rebellion against
the Lord's authorized priesthood leaders."
Cameron's arm was still resting against
Sara's, his fingers intertwined with hers, so evidently he wasn't planning to
leave the meeting, despite his reservations about going to Eden. She glanced at
him. He appeared to be watching his parents, who were sitting with his sister
and two younger brothers to his left and forward a couple of rows.
President Grant's voice softened. "We
do realize that there are a few of you who would remain on Earth were your
spouses not determined to go to Eden. Those of you who are in that position
know who you are. We realize the difficulties you're facing and pray the Lord
will comfort you. Aside from you, there is only one adult member of the Eden
Colony who has not been deceived and who is not guilty of rebellion, a young
man who is blameless in every way. The Lord, in His infinite mercy, has
inspired our prophet to personally call this dedicated young man to be your
bishop."
President Grant startled Sara by looking
straight at her, or so it seemed. He held out his hand and said affectionately,
"Come on up here, Cameron. The time has arrived."
Stupefied, Sara turned to Cameron. He
regarded at her in a cautious, almost guilty way. He mouthed to her, "Wait
for me after the meeting."
Sara could do nothing but nod as he strode
to the pulpit. Never in a million years would she have suspected Cameron Carroll
would be made the bishop of the Eden Colony Ward. He was far too young, for one
thing, and unmarried. Who had ever heard of a bishop who wasn't married?
Something inside of her said that if she
and Cameron let nature take its course, Cameron wouldn't remain unmarried for
long. She shoved that feeling aside in panic. She loved him to be sure, but
they were too young to get married, and they couldn't come back to be married
in the temple for two years at least. And what was wrong with Cameron, anyway?
Why hadn't he known she would be here? Hadn't he seen a ward list?
Sara felt David rest the side of his hand
against her head. His voice quavered as he whispered, "Your bishop can't
keep his eyes off of you."
Sara turned abruptly toward David, feeling
more anxious than ever. The situation was too outrageous. David's face twitched
as he struggled to hold back his laughter. Sara whispered defensively, "I'll
have you know that I've been waiting years
for Cameron to put his eyes on me!" She knew it was a dumb thing to say as
soon as she said it, but her mind was blank to everything else.
"I wouldn't have missed this for the
world!" David leaned his head into his hands between his knees, his
shoulders shaking.
Sara raised her hand with everyone else
when Cameron was presented to be ordained a high priest and then again when he
was sustained as bishop of the Eden Colony Ward. During the proceedings Cameron's
face looked haunted, as if he were being sentenced to life in prison.
Sara's heart pounded so frantically that
her entire body felt as if it were throbbing. Why had Cameron been made the
bishop? It didn't seem right. He didn't want to go to Eden. He thought the
colonists were apostates. He was essentially an outsider and could not possibly
be effective. Dr. Carroll was the natural leader of the colony. Why hadn't he
been made the bishop? Cameron wouldn't be any more than his father's puppet,
and the thought of Cameron in that intolerable position outraged Sara as much
as anything.
Sara realized she was gritting her teeth
and made a conscious effort to relax before she ended up with a headache. She
forced herself to look away from Cameron for a moment and observe his parents.
What in the galaxy did they think of this twist of circumstance? Sara could see
enough of their faces to determine that they were as shocked as she was. Wasn't
that odd. Cameron had received this unprecedented call from the prophet himself
and hadn't told his parents! Maybe she and her father were wrong. Maybe Cameron
really was spineless.
Sara shifted her focus to Cameron again and
saw that he was gazing pleadingly at her father. Sara couldn't help but glance
at her father. Sara knew that look. It was the look he gave her when she was
getting ready to perform or compete, the look that said, "You've worked
hard for this. You are awesome. You
will triumph!" Why did it have to
be Cameron now and not her?
As much as Sara wanted her father's
approval, when she saw how Cameron blossomed under her father's gaze, she
couldn't feel envious or even irritated. She wanted nothing more than for
Cameron to be happy and to step into his new position with dignity and
self-assurance.
When Cameron's eyes finally rested on Sara,
his expression, while not one of happiness, was one of warmth. Cameron's
experiences and callings as a missionary came to her mind, and she felt as if
light were being poured into her body. She knew the Lord wanted Cameron in this
position and had prepared him for it.
The feelings of astonishment and panic
melted, and Sara smiled at Cameron. He smiled back at her, tentatively at
first, but more tenderly as he came to realize she supported the call. His gaze
became more loving, more grateful, drawing her into his heart. She couldn't
have resisted him if she had wanted to. He didn't take his eyes away from hers
the remainder of the time he stood at the pulpit next to President Grant.
By the time it occurred to Sara to wonder
whether Tony really had been called into the bishopric, Cameron sat down on the
stand next to President Damazo, and President Grant presented Tony's name along
with Brent Hall, Russ Brodsky, and eight other young men to be high priests.
Tony stood next to the piano, his face pale and solemn. She had never seen him
so serious, but after she and everyone else raised their hands to sustain him
as Cameron's first counselor, he looked directly at her and winked, the corner
of his mouth rising slightly.
Of course Tony had known the moment he had
seen her talking with Cameron that she had fallen for her new bishop and didn't
know it. No wonder he had been so amused.
David could not sit still. Sara was afraid
he might laugh out loud. He whispered to Sara again, almost unable to speak,
"What an efficient counselor, providing romantic music for the bishop and
his girlfriend to cuddle to!"
"We were not cuddling!" David dropped his head between his knees again.
Sara leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "We weren't!"
The congregation sustained Brent Hall and
Russ Brodsky as members of the bishopric along with two other young men, then
an executive secretary and several clerks.
President Grant then asked for all of the
high priests of the colony to stand and sustain the six other young men made
high priests that evening to be the high priests group leader and his five
assistants. When all of the elders in the congregation stood, Sara prepared
herself for the unexpected and listened for old men to be sustained into that
presidency.
Sara thought she should be disappointed
when it became obvious that the elders quorum presidency of the Eden Colony
Ward, with its younger men, would look like every other elders quorum
presidency in the Church except for the unusual number of counselors. The
president, though, unlike all of the other ward leaders just sustained, was a
professional in his early thirties, the colony's general physician, a
smartly-dressed African American man named Sean Marshall. Sara was relieved
that Cameron would have one person to help him, at least, who possessed
maturity and had probably served in many Church callings. Dr. Marshall was the
one man whose appearance actually fit the position.
Sara glanced around and saw strained faces
on the older members of the colony. She couldn't believe the finesse in which
Dr. Carroll and the other leaders of the colony had been so effectively shut
out of all ward leadership. The situation really was absurd. How would this
ward function with mere students counseling and issuing callings to their
government leaders and professors? The First Presidency was putting these young
men in an impossible position. There was no way it would work.
After all of the sustainings had been
completed, President Grant announced that two members of their new bishopric,
Jeffrey Winter and Steven Sanchez, would sing "I Need Thee Every
Hour," and that following their number, Bishop Carroll would speak. The
two men sang with such feeling that Brother Sanchez was in tears by the end of
the song.
Brothers Winter and Sanchez sat down in the
choir seats near Tony, and Sara watched with anxiety as Cameron came to the
microphone. "Your song was beautiful, Brother Sanchez and Brother Winter.
Thank you." His hands gripped the pulpit, his eyes glossy with
desperation. He looked as if he were preparing to hurl himself off of a cliff
rather than address a few inspiring remarks to his new ward.
"There is no reason any of us should
be here. We all know the prophet's counsel. I'm begging you. Give up your plan
to go to Eden. It isn't too late, even for those of you who have just been
called into leadership positions. Please."
Brother Sanchez arose and moved toward
Cameron. "I can't do it. I'm sorry, Bishop." Cameron nodded that he
understood, stepping forward to shake Brother Sanchez's hand. "God bless
you. Take your family and go home."
Sara watched as Brother Sanchez walked down
the aisle toward his wife and infant daughter. His wife watched him in relief.
Sara didn't think she had ever seen a woman with a baby move so fast as she
headed to the back of the chapel and the exit.
Cameron didn't speak as his eyes rested on
every adult in the room. No one spoke; no one stirred.
Finally another young couple left with
their three children. Then another family left, and another, followed by
several unmarried students. The exodus took Jeffrey Winter, Cameron's second
counselor, two members of the elders quorum presidency, an assistant to the
high priests group leader, and a couple of others who had not been given
callings. Impatience toward the dropouts seized Sara's heart. Those people had
made a commitment! What specialists would the colony now lack?
When Cameron's gaze finally found Sara's,
it lingered there for so long that many other members of the colony turned to
look at her. If Cameron only knew what going to Eden meant to her, he would not
ask her to give it up. She shook her head slightly and mouthed the words,
"I can't."
A tear glistened on Cameron's cheek.
"Please," he begged in a whisper.
Many more moments passed, and Dr. Carroll
regally arose, his voice friendly but firm: "Son, I believe I speak for
the entire colony when I say that despite the gracious concern of our Church
leaders, we will move forward with our glorious goal to create Zion on the
planet Eden."
Sara didn't know what to think of Dr.
Carroll's words. He spoke for her, but he obviously didn't speak for everyone.
She didn't think it was right that Dr. Carroll had interrupted Cameron's talk
this way. She looked to President Grant to see if he would intervene. President
Grant didn't appear to acknowledge Dr. Carroll's interruption at all; his eyes
were riveted on Cameron.
As Dr. Carroll sat down, Cameron lifted his
hand and waved it in the direction of the temple. "If here in the light of
the temple you can still choose to follow my father into
hell . . ." Cameron stopped speaking and took a tissue from
the box on the pulpit. He touched it to his cheeks with shaking hands. "I'm
certain that once we get to Eden, most of you will think I'm a pretty poor
excuse for a bishop."
Sara watched Cameron in alarm. She wasn't
sure whether she should be offended by his impertinence or filled with
trepidation by his conviction that Eden was an evil place. In the end she
decided he was afraid of going to Eden and that his fear was making him
hysterical.
"That poor boy," Sara's mother
whispered. "His parents ought to be shot."
"Nevertheless," Cameron
continued, "I will do everything in my power to lead the colony in the
direction the Lord wants it to go." He squeezed the tissue he held in his
hand again and again. "In 3 Nephi, chapter 20, verse 13 it says, 'And then
shall the remnants, which shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the earth,
be gathered in from the east and from the west, and from the south and from the
north; and they shall be brought to the knowledge of the Lord their God, who
hath redeemed them.' I promise you, those of you who will live to recognize my
authority as the Lord's representative on Eden, that when the time is right, I
will lead you back to Zion."
Cameron closed his talk and sat down, and
President Grant came to the pulpit again. "The Eden Colony Ward will be
out of contact with the leadership of the Church for a long time. Be assured
that the Lord will not permit any of the men called to preside over you to lead
you astray."
Sara shuddered. What a terrible thing to
say! Would the Lord really kill Cameron if he messed up? One look at Cameron
told her that he believed it. Surely the situation would never arise. She
couldn't believe the Church really would abandon them so heartlessly.
"Bishop Carroll understands the
seriousness of his calling and has been directed by the prophet to lead the
ward to the New Jerusalem when the Lord commands. He will present you to the
First Presidency at that time, and he and your other priesthood leaders will
report on their stewardships.
"You must keep in mind that a bishop's
authority is limited. This being the case, you will never have a temple. You
will have opportunities to baptize nonmembers, but Eden has not been dedicated
for the preaching of the gospel and you will not be permitted to engage in
active missionary work. Your bishopric and other ward priesthood leadership
will never change. Your sons will not be permitted to receive the Melchizedek
priesthood, nor will any of your children be able to receive their patriarchal
blessings. It isn't too late to change your minds."
Sara still couldn't accept the possibility
that the Church would abandon the colony that way. President Grant believed it
at the moment to be sure, but it made no sense. Hearing movement behind her,
Sara turned to see others leave, a family and several more students, including
another assistant to the high priests group leader and one of Cameron's clerks.
"To those of you who insist on going
to Eden despite our warnings, I implore you to look to your new bishop for
spiritual leadership." He turned slightly and motioned Cameron to the
pulpit again. Cameron went to stand next to President Grant, appearing
uncomfortable. "Bishop Carroll has faith, maturity, and experience beyond
his years. He served for the past eight months as a branch president in the
city Xi'an, in China. During that time he and his companion baptized hundreds
of people and helped them make arrangements to relocate to the new temple
community in Beijing."
Sara had known that people were joining the
Church in China in droves, and although she knew that much of Cameron's
teaching and baptizing had been done in large groups out of doors, he had never
mentioned numbers in his e-mails. Hearing of his success this way astounded
her.
"During the course of his
mission," President Grant continued, "your bishop has been
instrumental in providing the equivalent of a third of a stake to the Beijing
Temple Community, which in less than a year, has grown to thirty-eight stakes.
He has done phenomenal work and will serve you well if you will let him."
Cameron gazed at the floor, more
uncomfortable than ever. Sara couldn't believe how modest and self-conscious he
was. She loved him all the more for it, yet still felt ashamed that she had
never asked him to dance. Rejecting him that way must have hurt him deeply. If
only she had known!
The tone of President Grant's voice
softened, "We love you and want you to be successful. May the Lord bless
you until we meet again in Zion."
Cameron said something in President Grant's
ear. President Grant nodded, then turned toward the Carroll family and smiled.
"Ashley Carroll? Will you please come up here and lead the closing song?
We'll sing Hymn 152, 'Till We Meet Again.' President Sean Marshall will give
the benediction."
After Cameron and President Grant sat down,
Ashley Carroll came to the platform. She lifted her arm to begin directing the
music, her eyes bright with excitement.
"She's exquisite," David
whispered.
Sara smiled. David had always liked classy
blondes, and Ashley, with her contoured coral-pink dress made of silk and
flawless makeup and hair, was as beautiful and as elegantly fashionable as
young LDS women came, even if she was a little young for David.
"If you're nice to me, I'll have
Cameron introduce you."
After the song and prayer were over, Sara
stood up and stretched. It had been the strangest church meeting she had ever
attended, the most troubling as well as the most thrilling. She watched Cameron
until he looked her way. He pointed to the south foyer, and she nodded in
reply.
Once Sara and her family were in the foyer,
her father asked, "Well, what do you think of your new bishop, Sara?"
His smile was a little too pleased.
"Other than the fact she's in love
with him?" David said.
Her mother smiled knowingly. "Other
than that."
Sara pursed her lips to keep herself from
grinning stupidly, shrugging. "The Lord prepared Cameron for this. I don't
doubt that, but it was still a shock."
"It looks like your boyfriend, Sara,
is the type of leader who has what it takes to get you insubordinate plebes
back into formation," David said.
"Get us insubordinate plebes back into
formation? Are you nuts?"
David softly began singing: "Onward,
Christian soldiers marching as to war--"
Sara shook her head at him. "You are
such a moron!"
"With the cross of Jesus going on before--"
Sara slugged David in the arm.
He didn't flinch, but gazed straight ahead,
his eyes "in the boat," and began bending his knees to the beat of
the song, as if he were marching. "Christ, the royal master, leads against
the foe! Forward into battle, see His banners go . . ."
Sara's parents laughed softly.
They were hopeless! Sara turned away from
them, toward the doors to the chapel. She saw Cameron pushing his way through
the crowd to get to her. Sara watched him eagerly.
When Cameron reached Sara and her family,
he moved as close to Sara as he dared, resting his hand briefly on her back.
"You and your family will stay for my ordinations, won't you?"
Sara smiled at him and nodded.
"I'm relieved you're not angry with me
for not telling you."
"How could I be? You didn't ask for
the call. And you did try to tell me."
David tilted his head toward Sara.
"You reprimanded your bishop."
"And now he's inviting me to his
ordination. I think he's forgiven me."
David chuckled. "That's fortunate for
you."
"Fortunate for me, you mean!"
Cameron said. He extended his arm toward Sara's parents.
Sara's mother shook Cameron's hand first.
"We're more pleased and relieved than we can express."
"Your call was inspired," her
father said. "Don't ever doubt it."
Cameron shook the hand of Sara's father
gratefully. "You have no idea how much your confidence means to me."
"Did you get to choose your
counselors?" David asked.
"Actually, I did. President Morley
gave me a list of names to pray about. There were thirty-five. From them, I
chose my counselors, clerks, and the elders quorum president and high priests
group leader. I didn't know anything about any of them until tonight."
"Unfortunately you lost a good portion
of your staff," Sara said.
Cameron shrugged. "I expected to lose
a few of them. My own opinion is that some of those men were having doubts
about going to Eden to begin with and needed the call to push them into making
the final decision to stay home."
"Seems backward, doesn't it?"
Sara said.
"Maybe not," her father said.
"Not if they were expecting Cameron's father to be made the bishop."
"And there's nothing like an
unexpected calling to make a person do some intense soul-searching," Sara's
mother added.
"Isn't that the truth," Cameron
said with a sigh. "But for me, anyway, the soul-searching phase is over
and the assuming-of-responsibilities phase must begin. I think it's time for me
to face my parents." He gave Sara's hand a squeeze. "I'll see you
later. The ordinations for members of the bishopric will be done in the Primary
room."
For some odd reason, Sara felt nervous for
Cameron as he went back into the chapel. What in the galaxy would his parents
think of his call? Would they be offended he hadn't told them?
David said, "I like Cameron, Sara. I
like him a lot. But I'll have to admit, I've never imagined you with the
sensitive, gentle type."
"He's perfect for her," her
father said.
David's words struck Sara as absurd now
that she comprehended her own feelings. She had no qualms about setting him
straight, especially now that she and Cameron had come to an understanding.
"There is no 'Sara's type.' There is only Cameron. There has never been
anybody but Cameron. I know it sounds crazy and maybe even abnormal. I don't
why; I only know what is."
"I may never forgive you for not
telling me about this other man in your life."
"If I had told you I liked Cameron,
you would have called him!"
David looked at her pointedly. "Well,
somebody certainly should have." He shook his head. "You sincerely
had never spoken to him before tonight?"
"Not once."
"I can't believe you only saw him at a
few dances a year. You know each other too well."
"Oh no, you're right. I've seen him
far more than that."
"They should know each other
better," her mother said.
"We assumed they did know each other
better," her father added.
Sara looked at her parents in warning.
"Don't tell him any more yet. You know he'll harass me forever."
Her mother drew her hands back. "I
wouldn't dare." Her father smiled and shook his head.
Sara looked at David. "I think I'll
just let you chew on it awhile." She took her mother's arm and led her
down the hall quickly to find a bathroom, leaving David with her father to
wonder.
"He's not quite what you thought he
was," her mother said as they walked.
"No, he's a hundred times more
wonderful."
"He really is sweet, Sara." Her
mother sounded amazed. "And a little shy. I didn't expect that either. I
can understand why he chose cross country and track and not football."
Sara murmured her agreement. Cameron could
never have played football, even though he was big enough to have played in
high school at least. He didn't have the personality for it. "I should
have asked him to dance."
"Yes you should have, but you didn't.
There's no sense beating yourself up about it. You know, though, that your
support now will mean everything to him."
"I know," Sara whispered.
A few minutes later Sara and her mother
joined her father and David in the Primary room. Sara didn't say much of
anything, needing time to think about everything that had happened. After many
minutes of silence Sara became aware of soft voices from the other side of the
room.
"That is him, Brandon. I know
it!"
"Who?" whispered a female voice.
"That dark-haired man in the gray
suit," the original voice answered.
"David Pierce!" whispered a third
voice. "Brigade commander, first baseman for the Navy, and returned
missionary!"
"Don't you know anything,
Ashley?"
"Something has definitely been lacking
in my education. He's gorgeous! Maybe I should be going to Annapolis instead of
Eden."
Sara was dying to turn and see the faces
behind the whispers but was afraid they would stop talking if she did. She
turned her head, ever so slightly to the right, and saw Cameron's sister and
two younger brothers huddled together just inside the door. Brandon was the
same height as Ashley and looked even more like his father than Cameron did,
with rich golden blond hair and sky-blue eyes. Adam was a head shorter than
Ashley and had his mother's features and pale blond hair, his eyes turquoise.
"What's he doing here? He doesn't have
to go to Eden," Adam said.
"He's with that girl Cameron sat
with," Brandon said. "The one he keeps staring at."
"Do you think David Pierce is her
boyfriend?" Adam asked.
"Are you blind, Adam?" said
Ashley. "Cameron's her boyfriend. Didn't you see how they were
cuddling?"
"No way!" Adam said.
"Cameron doesn't have girlfriends, and he doesn't cuddle!
David whispered in Sara's ear, "You
and your bishop were all over each other!"
"Oh, come on, David. We were only holding
hands!"
"They were cuddling," Brandon
said. "At least as much as a couple can cuddle in the chapel."
"How could they be cuddling when he
didn't have his arm around her?" Adam protested.
"He would have gotten around to
putting his arm around her had he not been called to the stand," Brandon
said. "Ashley's right. Cameron has a girlfriend."
Ashley laughed softly. "He's turned
into one of those marriage-hungry returned missionaries. You know, the kind
sane girls stay away from!"
David began humming softly: "Families
Can be Together Forever."
Sara glared at David sidelong. She was
going to kill Tony for putting David
in this harassing-with-hymns mode!
"Shut up, David!" Sara's mother
whispered. "I want to listen!"
"Snoop!"
"You really think he'll marry
her?" Adam asked.
"Well, he's certainly in love with
her," Ashley replied, "and he did
give her his CTR tie clip, and you know Cameron. It's not as if he's going to
do anything else with her!"
David whispered in Sara's ear, "Should
we tell them the bishop's bride-to-be likes to dress up as a Klingon Warrior
Woman for Halloween?"
"Hsssss . . ."
"She's beautiful, even if she is
insane," Brandon said.
"She can't be too insane if she's in
love with Cameron," Adam observed.
"You think he met her on his
mission?" Brandon asked.
"No," Ashley replied. "He
knew her before. She looks familiar. I'll bet that magnificent midshipman is
her brother."
Members of the new bishopric and their
families trickled into the Primary room. Sara felt David reach into his left
pocket for a couple of caramels.
"Cameron's girlfriend is David Pierce's
sister? That's cool!"
A piece of candy flew across the room,
hitting Adam in the chest. David said softly out of the side of his mouth,
"Say 'Go Navy!'"
Adam hesitated, then said with excitement,
"Go Navy!"
Another piece of candy flew across the
room, tapping Brandon in the chest. "Say 'Beat Army!'"
"Beat Army!"
This time, David reached into his other pocket
and tossed a piece of chocolate, which Ashley caught in her hand. "Say you'll
go out with me Saturday night!"
"I'd rather stay in with you
tonight!"
David reached into his pockets, removed all
of the pieces of candy he had left and tossed them to Ashley. "It's a
date!"
Ashley, Brandon, and Adam collected the
candy from the floor and moved toward Sara and her family. David stood up as
they approached, pulling Sara up with him. Sara's parents followed. David
extended his hand to Adam. "I'm honored to meet such a spirited Navy fan,
but I'll have to say, it's not fair you know my name but I don't know
yours."
"Adam Carroll," the boy replied,
sounding awestruck. "This is my brother Brandon and my sister Ashley. She
doesn't know anything important."
Ashley's golden blond eyebrows flickered in
an amused way that reminded Sara of Cameron's mother.
David pointed at Sara with his thumb.
"She knows that Sara Alexander here isn't my girlfriend. That's
important."
Adam pondered. "You're right. That is
important. Who is Sara then?"
"I'm David's niece. My mother is his
sister."
Sara's mother extended her hand to Adam,
then Brandon, introducing herself and Sara's father. As she shook Ashley's
hand, she asked kindly, "How old are you, Ashley?"
"Almost eighteen. I graduated from
high school last June."
"I'm ten," Adam said. "And
Brandon's fourteen."
"Did you hear that, David?" Sara's
mother said sweetly. "Ashley's seventeen."
Sara also heard the words her mother didn't
say: And you're a grown man of
twenty-three.
David heard the silent words too, because
he responded with, "Ashley and I have a date tonight, and I thought she
and her brothers could come to the house for root beer and popcorn," in a
tone that said, Don't be such a witch,
Teri!
Ashley and her brothers looked at each
other in excitement. "Could we really?" Adam asked.
"Well, it will be
late . . ." Sara's mother pointed out in a tone that said, Don't be such a pervert, David.
Sara wanted to laugh. Who needed telepathy?
Her mother and uncle communicated perfectly well by inflecting their voices in
that way they had and making faces at each other. She looked at her father and
saw that he hovered on the verge of laughter also. He said, the corners of his
mouth twitching, "You can come, but only if you promise to watch the video
we have of David and Sara at our wedding reception, throwing cake at each
other!"
As Ashley and her brothers enthusiastically
agreed to the arrangement, Sara saw Tony come into the room with Marc and
Jordan. They were an incongruent sight as always--Tony big and hairy, Jordan
little and balding, and Marc covered with freckles and red-haired. Sara quickly
excused herself and went to meet them.
When Tony spotted Sara, he laughed.
Marc said, "So Bubble Babe's got it
bad for the bishop."
"Shall we tell him Bubble Babe's too
afraid of germs to ever kiss him?" Jordan said, grinning.
"I don't know," Tony said,
shaking his head. "With all the heat that was flowing between those two,
they're probably both completely disinfected!"
"Bubble Babe is in no danger of
contamination," Marc said in an authoritative tone. He was the medical
student after all. "Bishops don't have germs!"
Sara gave them all quick hugs. "This
babe would come out of her bubble any day for Cameron Carroll!"
"You know, Sara," Jordan said,
"given the fact that you seem to know Cameron extremely well, I'm
wondering why we never heard you mention him."
"She never did, did she," Marc
said in realization.
"Oh I knew she was secretly in love
with him," Tony said, his smile smug.
"That's easy enough for you to say
now, after you've seen us together!" Sara protested.
"You're hilarious, Sara!" Tony
said. "You try to be so covert, and in the process, you reveal yourself
completely. Don't look at me like that! What was I supposed to think? You and
Cameron grew up in the same part of the state. You're both track champions, and
on top of all that, you're members of the Church. You had to know each
other."
"This is true, Sara," Jordan
pointed out.
"The guy goes to China of all places
on his mission," Tony continued to Sara, "one of the most exotic
places imaginable, and you never once ask Dr. Carroll anything about him, no
friendly interest at all, and you've asked me often enough about my experiences
in France."
Sara punched Tony lightly in the arm.
"You're awfully cocky. How did you know I didn't think Cameron was a big
snob?"
"Your dislike of him would have soured
you on the whole family and you wouldn't be going to Eden at all."
"I'll bet she read all of Cameron's e-mails
online and didn't need to ask Dr. Carroll about him," Marc observed.
"You did, didn't you, Sara,"
Jordan teased. "Come on, admit it!"
"She doesn't need to," Tony said.
"Look at her face!"
Sara covered her face with her hand.
"You guys know me too well. It's not fair!"
Tony rested his hand on Sara's arm, his
smile fading. "You'll stay for my ordination too, won't you?"
Sara lowered her hand and nodded. "Of
course." She surveyed Tony tentatively. "Your parents didn't come,
did they."
Tony dropped his arm to his side, shaking
his head and lowering his eyes.
"I'm really sorry."
"I know." Tony lifted his eyes
again and gazed over her shoulder. "Your parents are here though. That has
to count for something. And I'm assuming the guy you were sitting next to in
the chapel is David. He has that midshipman look about him. You know, the short
hair and erect posture they all have."
Sara motioned the guys to follow her.
"Come on. I'll introduce you."
The members of Sara's family were still
conversing with Ashley and her brothers when Sara approached them. They all
stopped talking suddenly. Sara's parents appeared amused. The others looked as
if they had a secret. "What's going on?" Sara asked.
Adam grinned. "We've been arranging a
surprise for you."
Sara turned to David, skeptical. "A
surprise?"
David gazed at her conspiratorially.
"Yes, a surprise. For the bishop and his bride-to-be."
Sara moaned. Tony, Marc, and Jordan
laughed. Before Sara could introduce her Don Pablo's friends to her family,
Cameron arrived with his parents, his Uncle Trevor and Aunt Cyndi and their
three children, and President Grant. Trevor Carroll had the same golden blond
hair as his brother and the same lively blue eyes, but he wasn't as tall, or as
lean, and he wore a mustache.
Cyndi and Samantha, the college-aged
daughter, were as tall as Trevor was and very thin, with waist-length, wavy
hair, Cyndi's ash brown and Samantha's golden blond. Both wore casual knit
dresses and sandals with no hose, and their skin was pale and perfect,
untouched by makeup. Had they been wearing longer, more elaborate dresses, they
would have looked as if they had stepped out of a Shakespearean play, an
Arthurian legend, or a Renaissance fair.
As introductions were made, Sara's parents
were forced to shake hands with Dr. Carroll. Her father did an excellent job,
as always, keeping his face perfectly impassive, but her mother looked as if
she wanted to scream.
Cameron introduced Sara to President Grant
as his friend from high school, and President Grant shook her hand firmly,
surveying her in a kind, but captivated way. He wasn't tall, and Sara was able
to look directly into those sagacious brown eyes without moving her head up or
down. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sister Alexander. I understand
you did very well in the NCAA championships last spring. Congratulations."
Sara's eyes and mouth widened. It still
surprised her when people she had never met recognized her. "Thank you. I
did far better than I expected to do. I felt privileged to be there at
all."
President Grant patted Cameron's back.
"You have a good man here. If he tries to get away, you chase him
down!"
Sara grinned. "If he runs from me, I
might, for the first time in my life, actually be able to catch him!"
Cameron laughed.
When President Grant extended his hand to
Sara's father, he said in a heartfelt way, "I can't begin to express what
an honor it is to finally meet you, Brother Alexander."
Sara's father frowned slightly, as if he,
too, were surprised to be recognized. Sara understood the reason for the
recognition immediately. Sara could imagine her father and mother's first
bishop calling or writing a member of the First Presidency directly and saying
something along the lines of: "I have a young couple with a baby in my
ward who claim they're agents from another planet. What am I supposed to do
with them?"
Sara watched her father's face soften and
knew he understood also. "It's an honor to meet you too, President."
"On behalf of the entire Church, I'd
like to thank you for all of the service you've given over the years."
Her father was moved, there was no doubt
about it. "It's been my pleasure," he said quietly, with feeling.
"I'm sorry things had to end this way
for you."
Her father glanced at Cameron. "Things
haven't ended as badly as they could have. I'd like to thank you for that."
President Grant acknowledged with a nod.
"Have you told her?"
Trendaul nodded.
"That's good."
Sara turned her head to look at Cameron,
wondering what he thought of this unusual exchange. He watched the proceedings,
absorbed. Sara caught a glimpse of Dr. Carroll and saw that he was as intrigued
as Cameron was. She didn't dare look at David.
President Grant shook her mother's hand,
then David's. Eventually the rest of the introductions were made and the
business began. As Cameron seated himself to be ordained, David whispered to
Sara, "So Cameron's a sprinter too."
"You should see him run, David. He's
like a beam of light. He's so beautiful it almost hurts to watch him."
"How many state championships did he
win?"
"Six."
"Isn't that interesting! I'll bet he
ran cross country and played basketball too."
Sara pursed her lips to keep a straight
face. David sounded so pleased with himself for figuring it out--six years too
late. "Nothing gets past you, does it, David?"
Dr.
Carroll, his brother, and President Grant gathered around Cameron and laid
their hands on his head. Dr. Carroll, in a meek, beautiful voice, proceeded to
ordain him to be a high priest and gave him the most exquisite blessing Sara
had ever heard. Her heart rejoiced as Dr. Carroll detailed the burgeoning of
the Zion community on Eden.
"Cameron, because of the wondrous
righteousness of your spirit, you have been chosen to be born at this time to
fulfill a sacred mission on Eden. Your role will be to lay the foundation of
the work there and expand it.
"Just as nature flourishes on Eden, so
will the gospel. The initial Zion community you aid in establishing will
influence the other fourteen Eden colonies in a miraculous way. Thousands of
people will join the Church through your influence, and all fifteen Eden
colonies will unite under one government that functions on the firm foundation
provided by The Equality of Zion. The Church will organize many stakes, and you
will be privileged to see a temple built on that hallowed Eden soil. A peace
will reign on Eden unlike anything that has existed on Earth since the Nephites
created Zion after the Savior's ministry as a resurrected being, a peace that
will continue to blossom as Eden follows Earth into terrestrial glory."
Dr. Carroll continued the blessing by
bestowing many spiritual gifts on Cameron and detailing their use and the
responsibilities that would go with them as Cameron sought to fulfill his
responsibilities.
When the blessing was over, Sara opened her
eyes to see Cameron's eyes still closed. Of course he needed a few moments to
contemplate everything his father had said. The blessing had been spectacular.
President Grant immediately laid his hands on Cameron's head to ordain him to the
office of bishop. President Grant's blessing was so short and to the point that
it seemed abrupt.
Nevertheless, when the blessing was over,
Cameron embraced the member of the First Presidency first. They didn't exchange
words, but their eyes met with understanding and affection. After Cameron
embraced his mother and father and other family members, he shook the hands of
Sara's mother and David. His countenance was grave and brittle. Sara watched
him, puzzled. Why wasn't he happy? Hadn't his doubts about going to Eden been
resolved with that beautiful blessing from his father?
Cameron's eyes rested on her father's face,
which was paler than normal and just as grave as Cameron's was. Cameron's jaw
twitched, as if he had almost let slip a gasp. Her father squeezed Cameron's
arm in a gesture of compassion and opened his mouth to say something, but
couldn't. Then, most surprising of all, Cameron and her father embraced as if
they had known each other their whole lives. It was all very strange. Sara wondered
more than ever what had happened between them in the temple the week before.
When Cameron finally took Sara's hand, he
smiled. Then, to her delight, he pressed the back of her hand to his lips.
"It's been a pleasure, your highness."
As Cameron released Sara's hand, she
replied in her best queenly tone, "The pleasure has all been mine."
Then she added with a grin, "Congratulations!" She threw her arms
around him and embraced him vigorously. She whispered in his ear, "Please
be happy, Cameron."
Cameron wrapped his arms around Sara and
squeezed tightly, as if he never wanted to let go of her. "You can't
imagine how happy I am at this moment."
"I think I can."
"May I call you tonight?"
Sara replied with the number of her cell
phone. She would have been thrilled to remain in Cameron's arms all evening,
but the time wasn't right. Everyone was staring at them, and she didn't doubt
Cameron had many other things to do before he could leave. In the end, they
withdrew from the embrace at the same time.
Cameron's face was brighter and more
confident than it had been as he turned to Tony and motioned him into the
chair. Tony gazed at Cameron reverently. "Would you perform my ordination,
Bishop?"
Cameron looked at Tony in surprise. Sara
wanted to hug Tony. She had expected him to ask Dr. Carroll, who appeared just
as surprised by Tony's request as Cameron was. This was more fitting, however.
"I would be honored," Cameron said softly.
Cameron moved to stand behind Tony, and
President Grant and both Drs. Carroll gathered around him. David whispered to
Sara, "Tony's a downright decent guy. Why haven't you introduced him to me
before tonight?"
"Because my Eden friends are
evil," she whispered in an exaggerated tone.
Cameron laid his hands on Tony's head and,
after ordaining him to be a high priest, gave him a blessing as personal as his
own had been public. Cameron, as spokesperson for the Lord, said nothing about
future events on Eden other than that Tony would soon find a woman to marry and
would yearn to take her to the temple. ". . . By living the
commandments and serving your bishop faithfully in your new calling, you will,
in due time, be privileged to be sealed to your wife and children in the temple.
Your parents and your brothers and sisters will be present at this event and
will rejoice with you . . ."
All of the promises made to Tony about an
imminent marriage made Sara feel keenly the fact that her relationship with
Cameron had the potential to end in marriage. The thought of it overwhelmed
her. It was too much too soon. She needed time to ponder everything. Perhaps
she shouldn't have agreed to let Cameron call her.
After Cameron had finished the blessing and
President Grant had set Tony apart as first counselor in the Eden Colony Ward
bishopric, Tony stood up and embraced Cameron first, energetically, and Sara
knew that Tony would not only be an excellent counselor to Cameron, but a close
friend as well.
A few moments later, Cameron turned toward
Sara and looked at her in a solemn, unsure way. He was thinking of the blessing
too. Was he as overwhelmed by the prospect of marriage as she was, or was he
concerned that all of this talk of marriage would scare her away?
Sara didn't think anything could keep her
from Cameron now, even premature talk of marriage, and she couldn't help but
smile at Cameron in a reassuring way. She mouthed the words: "I'll talk to
you later." He had better call her now!
Cameron smiled and nodded. Ashley took his
arm and whispered something in his ear. He pulled away from her abruptly and
regarded her in surprise. Ashley raised her eyebrows at him, waiting. He
hesitated, then nodded. He glanced at Sara again, his eyes charged with
excitement.
Ashley motioned to Brandon and Adam, and
they left the room with Sara and her family. Once the door shut behind them,
Ashley burst out, "I remember you now, Sara! You're Cameron's sprinter
friend, the one who always asked every guy to dance except him!"
Sara stopped in front of the cultural hall
door and turned abruptly to face Ashley, mortified. "You knew?"
"Of course I knew. Everyone
knew."
"Why didn't you guys push them out on
the floor together?" David asked.
"Oh, that would have been
horrible!" Sara said. "I wanted to dance with Cameron, but not like
that!"
"No one would have dared do that to
you, Sara," Ashley assured. "Once one of the guys asked Cameron why
he didn't ask you to dance. The guy said, 'You afraid she's going to beat you
up, Carroll?'" Ashley spoke in the deepest, manliest voice she could
manage. "'Have you seen the muscles on that girl? She could beat me up!'"
Sara followed Ashley into the empty
cultural hall, feeling shaken. "What did Cameron say?"
Ashley held the door for Sara, then strolled
along next to her. "Cameron glared at him with the strangest glow in his
eyes, as if he were a destroying angel. Let me tell you, even I had never seen
him look like that, and it was frightening. Everything got really silent all of
a sudden, and I had a feeling everyone else was noticing what I was at that
moment--Cameron is pretty muscular himself, or was, and he's a guy, and it wasn't
likely he was worried about being beat up by you, Sara. And then he said in a
voice that was quiet but resolute, 'Do you have a problem with that?'"
"He really is a champion!" Sara's
mother burst out in delight.
"Isn't he though?" Sara's father
said in satisfaction.
Ashley continued to Sara, "The guy
looked like a bug that had been squished, and he said, 'No, Cameron, of course
not.' And no one ever said anything to Cameron about you again."
"So the servant was defending his
queen's honor even then," David said, impressed.
Ashley slipped her arm through David's.
"What a romantic way to put it!"
David gladly moved closer to Ashley.
"Cameron was the one who said he was the servant and Sara was his
queen."
Ashley slid her other arm through Sara's
and squeezed enthusiastically. "I knew
you looked familiar! Oh this does explain a great deal!"
Sara's embarrassment gave way to
exhilaration. She had never felt like such a lady.
"She's Cameron's mystery love, isn't
she!" Brandon said in delight.
"I don't think there's much doubt of
that, no," Ashley said.
"Wow, that's cool," Adam said.
"We finally get to meet Cameron's mystery love."
"I'm such a moron," Ashley said.
"I should have guessed."
"We're all morons," David agreed.
Sara felt giddy. "Why did everyone
know Cameron was interested in me but me?"
"We didn't know it was you,"
Brandon said. "Which was why it was a mystery."
"We just knew there was someone,"
Ashley explained, "because Cameron never took girls out for fun."
What an odd comment. "What do you
mean?" Sara asked.
"Well, he did go to enough important
dances with beautiful girls to satisfy Mother and Father that he didn't have
some kind of social phobia or personality disorder, but that was it."
Sara's mother stifled a giggle. David
laughed and patted Ashley's hand. Sara knew she would get teased about this
night forever.
"And when we asked him for the name of
his mystery love and pictures of her, he got really mad and made us do extra
work around the house," Brandon said.
Sara smiled. So Cameron, too, had taken his
turn as the family babysitter.
"I think Cameron should have let
Mother and Father think he didn't like girls," Adam said with a decisive
air, jogging forward to open the door into the north foyer for everyone.
"Maybe they would have stayed home more, then."
"No," Brandon lamented as he
passed Adam, "they would have just put him in therapy and we still wouldn't
have been able to harass him about his mystery love."
"No, you're both wrong," Ashley
said. "Mother and Father have thrived professionally because their work
has just the right dash of liberal thinking. They would have told everyone
about their difficult family situation, delicately of course, and educated
America about tolerance. They would have had more speaking engagements than
ever."
Ashley's cynicism shocked Sara. "I
think you guys are awful. I hope Cameron made you do the bathrooms."
"Why didn't you ever ask Cameron to
dance?" Ashley asked.
"Because he was my mystery love and I
was a coward."
"You weren't much of a coward back
there. I thought you were going to kiss him," Brandon pointed out.
Sara felt mischievous. "I didn't think
it would be proper to kiss the
bishop."
Instead of laughing, the Carroll kids
seemed to lose all desire for light-heartedness. They looked at each other with
expressions of pain. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Adam
complained, moving away from the door to the cultural hall, "Why didn't
Cameron tell us he was going to be the bishop?"
"He probably didn't know how,"
Ashley said.
"I understand why he didn't say anything to Mother and Father, but
why didn't he tell us?" Adam persisted.
"Because he's gone crazy,"
Brandon said.
"Do you really think so?" Adam
said, more troubled than ever.
"You heard his talk. What was that all
about? He's never been disrespectful or disobedient to Father in his
life."
"I don't think this is the proper time
to talk about this," Ashley warned.
"Why not?" Brandon said.
"Only Sara is here, and she's almost part of the family!"
"Hardly!" Sara exploded in panic.
"Your brother hasn't even taken me out, much less proposed to me!"
"Well when he does," her father
interjected, "don't be an idiot--say yes!"
"Oh, Dad . . ."
Why did he have to pick now, of all times, to make one of his off-centered
comments?
Ashley stopped, and Brandon and Adam
simultaneously turned to look at Sara's father. "You're that certain
Cameron isn't crazy," Brandon asked earnestly.
"I am," her father said with
equal earnestness. "I have a great deal of admiration for Cameron."
"I know everyone thought Father would
be the bishop," Adam said, "but I think Cameron is a better choice,
don't you? He doesn't have so much on his mind."
"Oh I don't know," Ashley said,
leading them all to the foyer doors. "He certainly seems to have Sara on
his mind."
"I can't believe you live in Parkridge,
Sara," Ashley said as she stepped into the parking lot. "That can't
be more than twenty minutes from where we used to live, in Greenwood. We were
practically neighbors."
"I know," Sara admitted. "I
saw Cameron whenever we had a game or a meet against Greenwood."
"What high school did you go to?"
Brandon asked in surprise.
"Parkridge. If I lived on the other
side of the interstate, I would have gone to school with Cameron."
Ashley rolled her eyes. "I can't
believe you two."
Trendaul couldn't believe it either. Sara's
feelings for Cameron must have been incredibly intense to have invoked such
reticence in her. How different things might have been! He felt like an idiot
for not suspecting Sara's passion for Cameron long ago.
"Would that have been a local phone call, Sara?" David
teased.
Sara nodded sheepishly.
"Probably."
Trendaul shared David's amusement, if not
his exasperation. Sara's adoration for Cameron had turned her into such a
jellyfish that she deserved a little playful harassment. "Cameron was
written up on the sports pages of the Parkridge
Gazette as often as Sara was. That's how local he was."
David's eyebrows shot up. "I'll bet
Sara saved every one of those pictures of Cameron from the newspaper."
"She couldn't have cut pictures out of
the paper without someone figuring it out," Teri said.
"Oh no," David persisted. "I
know Sara. She's determined. I'll bet she carried scissors in her backpack and
cut the pictures out of the paper at the grocery store."
"Actually, you're right," Sara
admitted.
Ashley shrieked with ecstasy. "No
way!" Everyone exploded with laughter, and even Sara couldn't restrain a
smile. "Cameron must have
pictures of her hidden somewhere!"
"We looked everywhere for them,"
Brandon admitted, still laughing.
"They're in his wallet," Sara
admitted. "Hidden in the bill holder. He showed them to me."
David turned to Sara. "You're both
pathetic, you know that."
"I told you you'd harass me
forever!"
"You deserve it!"
"Well, I say it's about time we got a
look at Cameron's mystery love!" Adam chirped. "They'll be engaged
before you know it!"
Sara groaned and got into the van, slamming
the door. Sara appeared surprised when David opened the door right back up and
motioned Ashley, Brandon, and Adam into the van after her. "If you come
with us, how will you get home?" she asked.
"Cameron will drive to your house to
pick us up," Brandon explained.
Sara gasped. "Really?"
An expression of such delight and anxiety
came over Sara's face that Trendaul couldn't restrain himself from suggesting,
"I suppose David could take Ashley and her brothers home instead."
"No . . . no, no. I'm
just in shock."
Adam slid into the seat next to Sara.
"I told you we had arranged a surprise for you."
"He'll call you when he's done,"
Ashley said, "and you can give him the directions."
David chuckled as he pulled the side doors
of the van shut behind him. "I'll bet he already knows where Sara
lives."
Ashley and her brothers chatted excitedly
with David and Sara during the forty-five minutes it took to drive to
Parkridge. Ashley and her brothers seemed abnormally eager to be spending the
evening with Trendaul's family. Trendaul had a feeling they were lonely and
bored. They really were nice kids. None of them had the snobbish attitude that
could have so easily gone with the famous parents, designer clothes, and
Greenwood estate home. Obviously the parents had done a few things right.
No, as difficult as it was to admit to
himself, the parents had done many things right, which made Trendaul wonder how
they could have ended up in a situation so wrong. He believed Dr. Carroll's
commitment to the gospel, at least, had once been strong.
His wife, on the other hand, seemed nothing
more than a sophisticated parrot. Her writing on family issues combined generic
Mormon values with a politically correct philosophy that had appealed to both
Marylanders and members of the Church for nearly a decade. Trendaul had never
perceived any passion in her work or depth of understanding, only trite ideas
dressed up in tantalizing facts and witty language. Who knew what she thought
about anything?
Benjamin and Barbara Carroll had loved each
other in the beginning of their marriage, Trendaul was certain of it. Trendaul
had spent most of the evening studying Benjamin Carroll and was equally certain
that he now believed himself in love with Sara. He had watched her a good part
of the evening, sometimes in a disturbed way, but usually with fondness, often
trying to catch her eye. Sara had been so engrossed with Cameron, however, that
she hadn't noticed.
As revolted as Trendaul was by Benjamin
Carroll's desire for his daughter, he had to concede that he wasn't the kind of
man who had spent his life preying on girls. It didn't look as if he had
designs on any of the other young women in the colony yet. Trendaul didn't
think, moreover, that he was a man who had been chronically unfaithful to his
wife, although Trendaul couldn't believe that he would be pursuing a chaste
young woman like Sara now had he not already made adultery a habit.
Of all the women in the Eden Colony, why
was Sara the one he had singled out? Trendaul could understand a physical
attraction easily enough. Sara was beautiful and vibrant, with a racial
reproductive capacity and energy a man like Benjamin Carroll might be able to
sense, even if he didn't have the knowledge to correctly identify it.
The emotional attraction Trendaul
perceived, however, was more of a mystery. Twenty-six years' difference existed
between their ages, and aside from their mutual desire to colonize Eden, they
didn't appear to have much in common either in interests or in their basic
perspective on life. The only thing that made sense to Trendaul was that
Cameron and his father were far more alike in essence than it initially seemed
and that both had personalities which were compatible with Sara's.
Could it be that Cameron had inherited more
than his appearance from his father? That he was the gentle, deeply spiritual
young man he was because his father had been that way not so long ago and had
influenced him in that direction? Such a situation would explain how a young
man of Cameron's profundity had come from such a family. It would also explain,
along with the mother's attitude of graciousness, why Cameron's brothers and
sister were so pleasant and lacking in arrogance. Trendaul came to the
conclusion that Cameron and his father were, indeed, very much alike and that
Sara had probably encouraged Benjamin Carroll unconsciously, responding to him
as she would have to Cameron. Perhaps the man's feelings for Sara weren't
difficult to understand at all.
Trendaul debated whether he should tell
Cameron about his father's behavior toward Sara but eventually decided against
it. Perhaps the man would put his feelings for Sara in perspective and leave
her alone now that Cameron was in love with her. Not only that, but surely the
First Presidency of the Church suspected Benjamin Carroll's problems ran deeper
than rebellion. They would have told Cameron what they thought he needed to
know. Trendaul had no doubt that learning such a thing about his father would
shock and outrage him. If the knowledge came too soon, it might paralyze him
also.
If his father's desire for Sara didn't
cool, Cameron would discern soon enough what was going on, and Sara would be
more likely to believe it herself if what Cameron told her was gleaned from his
own observations. Whatever the case, the Brethren had turned Benjamin Carroll
over to Cameron to deal with, and they had done it because the Lord knew that
Cameron would handle the situation well. Cameron, in fact, might be the only
person who had a chance of turning his father around.
How did Ashley and the two younger Carroll
boys feel about going to Eden? Perhaps they didn't want to go at all. Ashley
could probably choose to remain on Earth, but her younger brothers could not.
Trendaul's confusion about why the prophet would authorize the organization of
the Eden Colony Ward melted, replaced by gratitude. He now had hope for the
Carroll children and all of the other innocents, hope for the colony in
general, and especially hope for Sara.
Once Trendaul and crew arrived home, Ashley
took one look at Josh and hurled a horrified scream at him: "It's the
Dance Clown!"
Josh screamed back at her: "It's the
Fancy Fashion Doll!"
"Fancy Fashion Doll!" Ashley
exclaimed in outrage as laughter erupted. She whipped her pale gold head around
to face Sara. "The Dance Clown is your brother?"
Sara nodded and extended her arm toward
Josh as if she were introducing him on stage. "The one and only Josh
Alexander."
Josh bowed to Ashley theatrically.
"The Amazing Josh Alexander is
pleased to finally meet the girl with the most intelligent, discerning eyes of
any fashion doll he's ever seen."
Ashley involuntarily widened her eyes, her
lips parting slightly in surprise. After a moment she smiled, extending her
hand to Josh. "I'm Ashley Carroll. My brother Cameron is in love with your
sister."
Josh turned knowingly to Sara, cupping his
hand around his mouth and speaking to her in a stage whisper, "I guess
that means it's okay now to admit you're in love with him too." Josh shook
his head at Ashley. "You would not believe all of the abuse I've suffered
over the years because of my knowledge of my sister's deep and meaningful crush
on Cameron Carroll."
Ashley laughed. Sara glared. "If you
had your own love life, Josh, you wouldn't be so concerned about mine!"
Josh threw up his arms in hopelessness.
"See what I mean? 'Wherefore the guilty taketh the truth to be hard, for
it cutteth them to the very center.'" That comment sent Ashley and her
brothers into hysterics.
Trendaul's mind worked quickly. "1
Nephi 16:2."
"Ah ha!" Josh cried, turning
toward Trendaul with his arm outstretched and pointing. "It took you three
seconds! You're getting slow, old man!"
"Touché!" said David.
Trendaul backed away, clutching his chest
as if stabbed. "'Thou hast declared unto us hard things, more than we are
able to bear!'"
"1 Nephi 16:1," Josh shot back.
Then to Sara he said, "Does Mr. Preppie Pretty Boy know his new girlfriend
likes to dress up as a Klingon warrior woman on Halloween?"
"No way!" Ashley gasped.
Sara nodded, grinning. "It's great
fun. Josh still dresses up as the Phantom of the Opera and skates around the
neighborhood, singing songs from the musical and throwing candy at the
kids."
"Cameron likes to dress up as Cal
Ripkin," Adam volunteered.
"Good man!" David said in
approval.
"Dad does door duty," Josh said.
"He used to dress up as a bug-eyed alien until we talked him into being
Mr. Spock."
Brandon leaned on Ashley's shoulder, nearly
breathless with laughter. "I love you guys," he said in Trendaul and
Sara's direction. "You're so weird and cool!"
"We're from Mars," Teri said with a smile.
David waved his hands in an effort to calm
everyone, his face solemn. "A question of eternal magnitude is begging to
be answered." When David had everyone's attention, he continued, "I
don't know about the rest of you, but my evening won't be complete until we've
decided which bizarre and disturbing image is the most hilarious:
a Klingon warrior woman with a bishop, a preppie pretty boy, or the clean-cut
Orioles Hall of Famer."
Everyone laughed themselves into gasps and
tears, Sara most of all.
*