Kicking Eternity

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter 23

For the second time in a month Raine scanned the inlet looking for Eddie. She’d texted him, I have something you want. Maybe she should have been more specific. Money. It was too late to tell him now since she had forgotten to bring her phone along.

She scrutinized the surfers on their boards, a couple of them up, riding a curl; most floating in the waves a hundred yards out like bobbers on a line. She’d been hyperaware of Eddie’s invisible presence days before he stole the cash. Now, she felt nothing. Maybe he wouldn’t show.

Cars with board racks baked in the sun. Two hoods sported mahogany-tanned surf babes in bikinis. She sunk down on a sand dune and watched the sandpipers hot-foot their three-pronged prints into the mounds.

Drew would call what she was doing enabling or some kind of twisted extortion. But it was partly her fault the money got stolen. If she wasn’t working at the camp, Eddie wouldn’t be hanging around. Wasn’t it her job to protect the camp if she had the power to do it? Five hundred dollars was a hefty chunk of her savings, but if it kept Eddie away from the camp for the rest of the summer, it would be worth it. If she was careful, she’d still have barely enough for her ticket.

She dug her toes down toward the cool sand. Where was Eddie? Anger bubbled up to the surface, and she realized how familiar the feeling was. This was who she’d become—a simmering volcano ready to spew at any provocation.

All her anger traced back to Eddie. She reached for a jagged piece of cowry shell. What exactly had Eddie done to make her mad? Where to start? She smoothed the sand in the valley in front of her and wrote, stabbed me with a meth needle, scarred me for life inside and out, stole my teen years. A half an hour later she still carved words into the sand, wringing every incident from her memory. Finally, she sat back and surveyed all the pain Eddie had inflicted—three dune’s worth, the last two dunes in her own shorthand.

What do I do now, Lord?

Forgive. The word swooped into her mind and squatted like a pelican coming in for a landing. Why? She didn’t want to forgive Eddie. He didn’t deserve it. Look! She flung her arm out toward all the words she’d written in the sand—as if God didn’t understand.

But the word sat there—a pelican on a piling settling in for the duration.

The tears started. I can’t. I’m not strong enough.

I am.

She wiped tears away with gritty hands, but more came, cresting like waves. It’s too hard. You’re asking too much. Eddie’s sins blurred through her tears. The sobs came one after another, wrenched from deep inside. She couldn’t stop them now. Oh, God. Her chest heaved. Help me.

The sobs backed off, a storm withdrawing out to sea.Her diaphragm shuddered like she was still crying on the inside. She knew what she had to do.

“I forgive you for scarring me.” She wiped the words away and took a ragged breath. “I forgive you lying to me about… stealing….”

At last, she sat in the dip in the dunes surrounded by smooth hills. She took a shaky breath, stood, and walked out of the dunes—free. As she moved down the beach, love for her brother poured into her soul. Now she had something better to give him than money.

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Raine stared at Drew’s laptop screen where it sat on the metal island in the camp kitchen. She rubbed her back and sat up straighter on her stool. Another mission agency that required its workers to raise their own salary from donations. Why was it so hard to lay down your life for others? Wasn’t teaching in a third world country enough?