Water Walker: Episodes 1-4 Part 31

"Okay."

A grin split his face and he slapped the edge of the hull. "Jika, jika, jawa! Now you're talking, dead man walking!" He thrust his hand out again. "Take my hand, and step on sand."

I couldn't help but grin with him. But looking at the water, I couldn't see that it was sand. We were in the middle of the lake-the water had to be a hundred feet deep out here. I was afraid.

"No need to be afraid, Eden," he said. "See no trouble. Have faith."

Now he could read my thoughts?

"No, I can't read your thoughts. But I read faces pretty good. Now step on out here before that hull goes up in smoke."

"Why would the hull go up in smoke?"

"Well . . . the boat's only an idea, right? A thought. All thoughts vanish. So waste no time. Walk with me."

I looked at the water, then back into his bright eyes, then at his hand. I reached for it and he held my fingers firmly but gently.

"Now you're talking."

Using my left hand on the hull and supported by his strength, I cautiously drew first my left leg, then my right over the side, so that I was seated on the edge. I kept my eyes on the water, struck by the fact that, even knowing that my mind was only making this all up, that wet, glossy surface rolling gently a few inches under my feet looked so real. So much like water.

And I knew that if I stepped on water I would sink. I just knew it.

My breathing came shallow and I frantically looked up at his smiling eyes.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "Why don't you close your eyes. Trust me, if you can't trust what I've told you."

I nodded, thinking that his hand was strong and if I did sink, he would hold me up.

So I closed my eyes, held my breath, and scooted-stepped-fell into the water, feet first.

But I didn't fall. The surface under my feet was firm. I was standing! I really was on solid ground and I was so stunned by this that I opened my eyes to see what had changed.

Nothing had. The moment I saw the glistening water, fear washed through me, and the moment I felt that fear, I became convinced that I was going to sink, and the moment I was sure I'd sink, I did.

Right up to my knees, gasping, squeezing my eyes shut.

He chuckled. "Keep your eyes closed."

I stopped sinking and he gently pulled me up. I was standing again. Once again relief flooded me.

"Walk," he said, guiding me.

I took a step, keeping my eyes closed.

"That's my girl. Look at you."

"No . . ."

"No, you're right, don't look."

I took another step. The water squished under my feet but I didn't sink.

"You see, Eden, it's not the water that changes. It's what you make of the water that changes. It's finding no offense in the water that keeps you safe, because there's nothing to be kept safe from when you're already safe. One step at a time. Walk."

I took another step, and then another, and another, and suddenly I could not stop grinning.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah, wow. Now we're talking; dead man walking."

"You keep saying that." Dead man walking. "I'm not a man and I'm not dead."

"Just an old saying I learned in the jungle where I grew up. But actually, you are dead. At least the old you is. A good thing, because it's the only way you can walk on water."

"To die?"

"To let the old self die. To let go of the known patterns of this world and be transformed by a renewed mind beyond those patterns."

"Hmm . . ."

But my mind was on the thrill of walking. So I just kept walking with my eyes closed, trusting that he was leading me to the sh.o.r.e.

Slap . . . Slap . . . Slap . . . I was walking on water, filled with courage and feeling so elated that I thought I should scream with joy.

Instead, I breathed out another thought that had entered my mind.

"I'm so glad this is a dream," I said.

"But in some ways, it's not," Stephen said. "Open your eyes, Eden."

I pulled short. "Now?"

No answer came. I suddenly realized that no one was holding my hand. Without thinking about it, I snapped my eyes wide and stared into the darkness.

It took me a couple seconds to recover my orientation and see that I was lying on my back, in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, covered in sweat.

The reality of my situation crashed in around me and I jerked my head up.

It was night again. White bandages bound my right leg, from my knee all the way down around my ankle. The bandages were wet.

I'd been on the lake. No . . . I had sweated through the bandages.

Kathryn had tried to break my leg. She'd actually injected me with a drug, climbed on the bed, and done her very best to break her own daughter's leg.

A terrible rage washed over me and I swung my legs off the bed, not caring if or how much it would hurt. I placed my feet on the ground and put some pressure on them.

Pain cut into my right ankle, but not enough to keep me from standing.

I hobbled around the bed, favoring my right leg. It was too sore to walk much, but that would change in a couple days.

I sat back down on my bed, clenched my jaw, and let a quiver work its way through my bones. I had courage now. If there was one thing my dream had shown me it was that I could face all my fears. I could march right out of this h.e.l.lhole, even if it meant walking right over Kathryn.

She was the troubled black water, but I was a water walker.

That's what I was going to do. As soon as my ankle could support a good walk, I was going to go, and this time, I was going to go all the way.

25.

LIFE CAME in cycles. Some days were hard, others a blessing; some brought death, others life. For every sin, a lash was dealt, and for every moment of holy courage, a jewel stored up. Spare the rod, spoil the child. And they were all G.o.d's children.

Kathryn had lived her life by many principles, but none rang so true as the ageless law of compensation: you reap what you sow.

Although she hadn't found Abraham's courage to break Eden's leg, she'd faced terrible fears and done the next best thing by spraining it. Even doing that had been horrifying, followed by hours filled with terrible pain and heartache. How Abraham had found the courage to put his own son on the altar she could hardly fathom, but then he was the father of nations.

Perhaps in her failure to fully obey Zeke she would miss out on a blessing as great as Abraham's, but even for her small act of obedience, Kathryn was reaping the fruit of her faithful sowing.

Three days had pa.s.sed since that dreadful morning-the first of which had been dreadful, the second, peaceful, and the third, today, quite beautiful.

She'd tenderly wrapped Eden's swollen ankle and leg with a splint to make it look like a break. Every hour thereafter, she'd gone to check on her daughter, making no attempt to hold back her tears of empathy while Eden slept in peace.

Looking upon the wounding she'd administered to her daughter was hard, but since when had being righteous not been? Didn't punishment hurt G.o.d even more than it hurt his beloved children? Was it G.o.d's fault that he had to level vengeance upon those who'd strayed from his love? She was only following his example, both in vengeance and in love. Her precious lamb was in a time of correction-hurting for her was appropriate even if it was best done in secret, just like G.o.d hurt in secret.

Zeke came by that first afternoon, took one look at Eden's heavily bandaged leg, and, clearly satisfied, walked to the front door where he'd turned and offered his gratefulness.

"Your obedience doesn't go unnoticed, Kathryn. When the time comes you will see that."

"Thank you, Zeke."

He nodded once. "I've cut the phone line."

"Of course."

He withdrew a small black cell phone from his pocket and gave it to her. "It's programmed to call only my cell. Just press send. Keep it in your dresser and use it only if you find yourself out of your depth."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Zeke."

"I want you to hide the truck keys in the shed. Somewhere neither Bobby nor Eden would think to look."

"Why? Eden can't drive."

He drilled her with a dark stare that had filled her with shame. For a moment she wondered if he already knew she hadn't broken Eden's leg and was only toying with her.

"Forgive me, Zeke. I didn't mean-"

"She won't be able to walk without a cast, but that doesn't mean she won't try driving out again. I would appreciate a little trust from you."

"Yes, of course."

"Hide the keys."

"Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you, Zeke. You're very . . ."

He'd turned before she could finish and was gone without another word. It was just as well, because really she was just stumbling all over herself and that wasn't a pretty sight, even for someone as understanding as Zeke.

Eden hadn't awakened that first day, which was a small blessing. Kathryn wasn't up to facing her daughter yet. When she'd gone in to check on her the next morning, she'd been filled with trepidation, afraid to see hatred and anger in those soft brown eyes.

She'd found Eden lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, fully awake and seemingly at peace. When Eden had turned to face Kathryn, her eyes showed none of the bitterness she'd feared. Her daughter hadn't smiled or said anything that might show her repentance, but neither had she voiced any frustration at waking to find her leg in bandages. It was a very good sign.

Kathryn had approached her bed and studied her daughter lovingly.

"Are you okay, darling?"

Eden had slowly nodded.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, Mother."

She smiled at Eden and, although Eden didn't return her smile, there seemed to be a light in her eyes.

"I think that you'll be glad to know that I've decided to lift my restriction on food. Your body needs to mend. Would you like some chicken soup?"

"That would be nice, Mother. Thank you."

"You're most welcome."

Kathryn left the room flooded with peace, quickly heated up some soup, and took it to her daughter on a wooden tray so she could eat it in bed.

Eden had spent the rest of the day in bed except to use the toilet, which Kathryn had also allowed. Watching her hobble to the bathroom had filled her with sorrow. It would have been easy to question her act of punishment, but Kathryn did her best to ignore the tempting whispers of the accuser.

Weren't they both already seeing the fruit of repentance? Eden seemed to have finally found some inner peace. The resurrection always followed the crucifixion.

By the third day, Eden was getting around better, though still limping noticeably. More importantly, she'd found her pure self, taking time to kneel beside her bed in prayer unbidden by Kathryn. A gentleness and kindness had come to her eyes-a look that had always melted Kathryn's heart.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Mother."