“Come on, June,”
Brian
heard Allie say. “Let’s go.” He
and Mahoney ran to the front
door.
Brian opened it a crack and peered through. The two
girls were walking away, back to the girls’ cabins.
“No!” Brian hissed. “I have to…oh, the heck with it!”
He threw the door open, pounded down the stairs and
followed them, dodging around other campers and
counselors, trying to keep them in sight.
As he drew near the girls cabins, he ducked behind a
large boulder and peeked around the side, just in time to
see Allie enter Cabin 24. The other girl sat down on the
front step with a gloomy look.
“Dude!” Mahoney ran up to him, looking alarmed.
“What are you doing?”
Brian peered at the cabin. “I have to see what she’s up
to.”
“You can’t go near the girls’ cabins!”
“Look,” Brian hissed, “If you don’t want to come along,
fine. Just be quiet!”
“All right, all right!” Mahoney whispered. “What now?”
Brian didn’t answer. A wild, reckless mood had taken
hold of him. He scanned the crowds, looking for some
cover. There! Two girls were carrying a large canoe
downhill…
“Now!” he whispered, and dashed out from behind the
boulder just as the two girls passed by. Under the cover of
the canoe, they darted into the alley between Cabin 24 and
Cabin 23.
“All right,” Mahoney whispered as they both hunched in
the alley. “You better know what you’re doing, because
we’re gonna get in big trouble if we get caught.”
Undercover PaPist
John Paul 2 High Book Four
Also from Chesterton Press:
The Fairy Tale Novels
Fairy tales retold by Regina Doman
www.fairytalenovels.com
The Shadow of the Bear
Black as Night
Waking Rose
The Midnight Dancers
Alex O’Donnell & the 40 CyberThieves
The John Paul 2 High Series
by Christian M. Frank
www.johnpaul2high.com
Book One: Catholic, Reluctantly
Book Two: Trespasses Against Us
Book Three: Summer of My Dissent
Book Four: Undercover Papist
Catholic Philosopher Chick
By Rebecca Bratten Weiss and Regina Doman
www.catholicphilosopherchick.com
Catholic Philosopher Chick Makes Her Début
Look for more upcoming titles at
www.ChestertonPress.com
Christian M. Frank
Undercover
Papist
John Paul 2 High
Book Four
CHESTERTON PRESS
FRONT ROYAL, VIRGINIA
To Dominic and Jack
Copyright © 2012 by Chesterton Press and John Doman
All Rights reserved
Cover design by Regina Doman. Photo from Spiering Photography.
Interior images from iStockphoto.com, Regina Doman, and Spiering
Photography.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of
the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in
a review.
Chesterton Press
P.O. Box 949
Front Royal, VA 22630
www.chestertonpress.com
Summary: Dispatched to Bible camp to rescue Allie Weaver from
Protestantism, Brian Burke tries to win his JP2HS classmate back to
the Catholic Church–but he and Allie both have much to learn about
God and faith.
ISBN: 978-0-9827677-5-7
Printed in the United States of America
www.johnpaul2high.com
TWO
Birthday & Beach … 14
THREE
Battle on the Bus … 24
FOUR
Bible Camp … 35
FIVE
Good Deed Overheard … 44
SIX
Dish Dog Dust-up … 61
CHAPTErs
ONE
Deep Waters … 4
SEVEN
Wake Up Call … 68
EIGHT
Ice Queen … 84
NINE
Officium pro Defunctis … 100
TEN
Dinner with Dad … 106
ELEVEN
The Weekend … 118
THIRTEEN
Growing … 138
FOURTEEN
Harvest … 157
FIFTEEN
Rachel … 163
SIXTEEN
Girl in the Camera … 171
SEVENTEEN
Not Alone … 176
EIGHTEEN
The Great Debate … 187
NINETEEN
Secrets … 208
TWENTY
Lunch with Mom … 217
TWENTY ONE
The Second Bishop … 234
TWENTY TWO
Caught … 247
CHAPTErs
TWELVE
Sowing … 129
All which I took from thee I did but
take,
Not for thy harms.
But just that thou might’st seek it in
my arms.
All which thy child’s mistake
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee
at home;
Rise, clasp My hand, and come!”
—Francis Thompson,
The Hound of Heaven
She’s beautiful.
The boy glanced around and surreptitiously looked through
the branches of the artificial plant. There she was, sitting in the
coffee shop with the other girl, talking. He wondered what they
were talking about; he was too far away to hear. But she was
doing most of the talking, and she was excited about it.
He took in every detail: how her white cheeks were flushed
slightly, how she would throw out her hands every now and
then to accentuate some point, how the silky curtain of her
blond hair would fall over her face every now and then…
It was mesmerizing. He glanced at the other girl, the annoying
one with the brown curly hair, and felt a small twitch of
irritation. She was so lucky, to be so close to this…vision, and
not appreciate it.
But annoying girl didn’t matter. None of them mattered,
except for her. Because this was all about her. He could see that
now.
He couldn’t risk looking more. With a final, regretful glance
back at her, he got out of the chair and walked away.
His one great advantage at this juncture was secrecy…the
complacency of the masses. They all thought it was over. They
thought they were safe.
He knew better.
1
One week later…
3
1
Deep Waters
Get rid of all bitterness,
rage and anger— Allie Weaver
mouthed the words silently,
following the text with one finger —
along with every form of malice. Be kind
and compassionate to one another—
A blast of warm air flooded into
the jeep, ruffling the pages of the
bible on her lap.
“Hey!” She looked up, slightly
irritated, holding her bible down with one hand and brushing
long blond hair out of her face with the other. Tara, the jeep’s
driver, had opened a window. “What’d you do that for?”
“Because we’re almost here!” Simone said, turning around to
face Allie. “Can’t you smell it? That sea air?”
“Yeah, don’t be cranky, Allie,” Tara said, her black hair
ruffling in the breeze. “You can’t be cranky at the beach.”
“I wasn’t being cranky—”
“I haven’t been in the beach in, like, forever!” Simone said,
pulling her sandy blond hair back in a ponytail. “Oooh, Tara,
remember junior year when Valerie was cranky the whole time
at the beach, and it turned out that it was because she had been
totally crushing on that guy who didn’t show up…”
“Oh yeah! And then she went and hooked up with some
other guy the same night! She was such a…”
Allie watched, disconcerted, as the two older girls in the front
seat chatted, just like they had in school. She felt out of place.
Do I really belong here…with these girls?
Yes. You do. You’ve made your decision… or it was made for you…
Something seemed to twist painfully inside of her. How could
things change so quickly? Only last week she and Celia Costain
4
had met at the mall for coffee, and she had tried to make Celia
understand—tried to bridge the gap between them, between
these two worlds…
Yeah, that didn’t work out too well. She let out an angry snort.
“What’s wrong?”
She glanced over at the fourth passenger in the jeep: Ginger
Josslyn, tall, slim and beautiful, with long blond hair like her.
Ginger, who had gotten her into this mess, for better or worse.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Allie said lightly. “I was just thinking
about…” She glanced down at the brand new bible. There it
was: Ephesians, chapter four:
Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along
with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another,
forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
“Allie?” Ginger said. “Hello? Thinking about what?”
She glanced back at Ginger, who looked genuinely concerned.
This, too, was different: Ginger Josslyn being kind to her.
So many things had changed. It had all started when her best
friend was murdered.
Everyone had loved Nikki Miller, Allie’s closest friend since
childhood. She and Allie had gone through grade school
together. They had been freshmen together at Sparrow Hills
High School. And then a mysterious stranger had threatened
Allie, and her mom had yanked her from the public school and
enrolled her in a different high school: John Paul 2 High.
A very high different school. A real Catholic school where
people took being Catholic seriously. Allie had soon made a
new best friend: Celia Costain, the principal’s daughter and a
super gung-ho Catholic. Meanwhile, Allie and Nikki’s friendship
had just…faded.
And then the unthinkable had happened. Someone had
opened fire on a dance at Sparrow Hills. And Nikki had been
shot and killed instantly.
The weeks after that had been filled with unbearable darkness
for Allie. She had felt so alone, and her Catholic faith hadn’t
5
seemed to help her at all. Neither had her Catholic ‘friends’…
she scowled. No. Better not to think of that now.
The only person who had understood her was Ginger. Ginger
had sought her out and told her about Cross Bridge, and how she
had met Jesus there.
And the weirdest thing was that Allie wasn’t even close friends
with Ginger before then. Ginger had been one of the Ice
Queens—the popular, pretty girls atop the social ladder at
Sparrow Hills. Tara, Simone and Ginger were all part of the Ice
Queens, and Ginger had been the iciest of them all: cold,
haughty and with a cruel streak. Allie had always been a little
scared of her.
But Ginger was different now. She had changed, profoundly.
She was a Christian now—and so were Tara and Simone. And
so was Allie.
“I was just thinking about…Him,” she said softly. “You
know?”
“Oooh, hear that, Simone?” Tara said from the front seat.
“Allie’s taking after your big brother.”
“What?” Allie let out a shocked giggle. “No! I was—”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re wearing that bikini,” Simone said
with a grin.
Allie hesitated, and then pretended to laugh. “Ha ha, sure.”
Self-consciously, she fingered the shoulder strap of the red
bikini underneath her t-shirt.
Ginger glanced up at the others, then shifted closer to Allie.
“I know what you meant,” she said. “But seriously, is something
else wrong? Did you hear the news?”
“What news?”
“About your school. You know, John Paul 2 High.”
Ding Dong!
Brian Burke ran to the front hallway and threw open the
door, revealing his two best friends, Liz Simonelli and J.P.
Flynn.
6
“Birthday boy!” J.P. said in a squeaky voice, and lunged
forward, his blazing red hair standing on end. Brian staggered
back as J.P. threw his arms around his neck and pretended to
sob with joy. “Sixteen already! I remember when you were just a
sparkle in your daddy’s eye!”
“No, you don’t,” Brian said, grinning as he extracted himself
from J.P.’s loving embrace. “Thanks for coming early, guys.”
“No problem.” Liz shook her head in exasperation, tossing
her dirty blond hair as she stepped in. As usual, she was wearing
a large t-shirt and baggy shorts. “So let’s get started. Where can
we talk in private?”
“Liz, Liz,” J.P. said reproachfully. “It’s the man’s birthday! He
needs a break!”
Liz scowled. “Well, seeing that he’s starting a two-week
vacation tomorrow—”
“It’s okay,” Brian said. “Liz is right; we do need to talk. Let’s
go upstairs.”
The house was empty for now, but his parents and siblings
would be home any minute. And then, later, his classmates from
John Paul 2 High would arrive. And Mary Summers would be
with them.
He felt his stomach churn with nervous excitement as he
thought of her soft brown eyes, her long dark hair, the feeling
of her hand in his. She had replied to his email last night. She
and her sister Jacinta would come; they’d be getting a ride
over…Nervously he patted his short tightly-curled black hair. A
white girl, falling for a black guy. Obviously Mary didn’t have a
problem with that. He couldn’t wait to see her—he hadn’t seen
her since the school work camp had shut down—but of course,
that’s why they were having this meeting…
“Wow, what is this room for?” J.P. asked as they entered a
large square room with a blackboard and school desks. “It looks
like a classroom. Do you guys go to school at home?”
“Of course they do, doofus.” Liz rolled her eyes. “They
homeschool, remember?”
“This was my school.” Brian shrugged. “The only school I had
until I started going to JP2 High.”
7
“Well, this room is gonna be your school again,” Liz said,
sitting down behind one of the desks. “Unless we can stop
Bickerstaff.”
Brian’s brow wrinkled. “You’re still sure it’s him?”
“Yes. And I can prove it,” Liz said grimly. “Maybe then
they’ll let us into the building again.”
The building was condemned?” Allie gasped.
“That’s what I heard from Madison,” Ginger said in a low
voice. “Apparently there was a leak in the pipes or something,
and some kids almost got electrocuted. Don’t worry,” she added
quickly as Allie gasped. “Nobody got hurt. But the city locked
up the building.”
Allie didn't reply.
“Are you okay?” Ginger said quietly.
“Yeah,” Allie said after a moment. “I’m fine. I’m never going
back there again anyway.”
“We're here!” Tara sang out.
Allie looked up. They had just pulled into a parking lot, and
the beach was spread out in front of them. It was a sunny,
cloudless day, and the shores were crowded with people.
They jumped out of the jeep. Tara, Simone and Ginger
stripped down to their swimsuits. Allie hesitated. She felt weird
for some reason…
…this is a Catholic school. Your manner of dress is not Catholic. It’s
offensive, the way you’re carrying yourself. Would the Blessed Mother dress like
that? Would she approve of how you’re tempting the young men here to sin?
Mrs. Summers, one of the parents at John Paul 2 High, had said
that. She had yelled at Allie in front of the whole school, just for
wearing a skirt that was a little short…Anger and revulsion rose in
her throat, and she pushed the memory away.
Well, it’s a good thing I’m not Catholic anymore, she thought, and
pulled off her t-shirt and shorts. She felt a little better; the sun
and breeze were pleasant on her skin.
“You look great, Allie!” Tara said. “Hey, look who’s here.
Keenan!”
8
Allie looked up and felt a familiar quake in her stomach as
Simone’s older brother, Keenan Clearwater, jogged up to them,
wearing a tank top and long shorts. His arms and chest were
smooth and muscular, and he was wearing sunglasses. He looks like
Jesus even at the beach, Allie thought, and giggled nervously.
“Hey,” Keenan said, smiling. “Wow, Allie! You look...” he
lowered his sunglasses a bit and eyed her. “You look nice.”
“Really?” Allie said playfully, even though she still felt a bit
shy. I don't want to put him off with my leftover Catholic guilt.
“Oh yeah,” Keenan said, laughing. “Well, come on, ladies. Let's
hit the beach.”
B
rian glanced at Liz. “So you still think Mr. Bickerstaff’s
behind this? You think he’s the poltergeist?”
“Yeah, Burke, I do. And I think I have proof now.”
Brian frowned. John Paul 2 High had been plagued by
mysterious accidents and vandalism for almost a year, but over
the summer, during a work camp to renovate the school, the
‘accidents’ had gotten worse. It was J.P. who first began
thinking that there might be one person behind them,
deliberately causing them—a ‘poltergeist.’
And for the last month, Liz had been obsessed with catching
the guy; mostly, Brian thought, because her dad had blamed her
for a fire that the poltergeist had started—a fire that Brian had
put out. At first she had thought it was Allie; but now she
blamed Mr. Bickerstaff, the county building inspector, who
often got in arguments with Liz’s dad.
“Well, I have something to show you guys first,” Brian said,
reaching behind the teacher’s desk and pulling out a thin, rusty
length of pipe. One end was jagged and broken.
“Here it is,” he pronounced. “The cause of the leak that
flooded the school and shorted out the electricity last week.
This pipe rusted out right here.” He pointed to the jagged metal
end. “My dad brought it home yesterday.”
“Okay,” Liz said after a cursory glance at the pipe. “What’s
your point?”
9
“The point,” Brian said, “is that maybe in this case—no, wait,
Liz!” Liz had jumped to her feet, scowling. “Think about it!
There’s no way Bickerstaff could have made this pipe rust out so
fast!”
“So what?” Liz snapped. “So now you don’t believe there is a
poltergeist? We’ve been over this, Burke. Somebody screwed a
penny into the fuse box to start that fire. And somebody
disconnected that thing on the boiler so it would break.”
“I….know,” Brian said after a moment. “But maybe this time
it was just a coincidence. You got a better explanation?”
She folded her arms. “Yeah. Guilt.”
“What?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow to go after Allie! You’re going to
that Bible camp with her, and you’re ditching us.” Liz snorted.
“You wish the flood was a coincidence. Well, I’m not buying it.
And neither is J.P. Right, J.P.?”
They both looked over at J.P., who was peering at the pipe
intently. “Huh?” He looked up. “What?”
“Do you think this was all a coincidence?”
“Coincidence?” J.P. repeated, dazed. “No. Definitely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because this pipe was cut.”
“What?” they said together.
“Check it out.” J.P. brought the pipe over to them. “See
here?” He pointed to the place with his finger. “Right at the
edge?”
Sure enough, there was a thin line cutting across one of the
jagged edges of the pipe. “The poltergeist took a hacksaw, and
cut it just a little, just enough to weaken it,” J.P. said. “So when
they turned the water on again—”
“It broke,” Liz finished grimly. “He must have planned it that
way. I can’t believe it!” she burst out, slamming her hand down
on the desk. “He did it again! We got to get him, Brian!”
“Yeah!” J.P. said, jumping up. “Let’s get him! You two can
hold him down, and I’ll get the earthworms!”
“Shut up!” Liz said furiously to the tall redhead. “Can’t you be
serious about anything?”
10
“I am being serious!”
“All right! Quiet, both of you!” Brian sat down, feeling
depressed. Liz was right—he had been hoping this problem
would go away. “Okay,” he said heavily. “I’ll show the cut to my
dad. In the meantime we have to think about—”
“Not thinking again!” Liz said bitterly. “You’re the best at
thinking, and you’re leaving!”
“I can’t help that,” Brian said, keeping his voice calm with an
effort. “I want to stay. And if is Bickerstaff, I want to thwart
him.”
J.P. looked up. “I like that word! Thwart. It’s fun to say.
Thwart. What does it mean?”
Brian smiled. “It means to block, to impede. To mess up welllaid plans.”
J.P.’s face lit up. “Now that I understand!” He rubbed his
hands together. “Okay, I got a hunch. We need to keep this guy
out of the building…so I’ll get my old poltergeist alarms out—”
“No need,” Liz said. “Dad had a burglar alarm system
installed last week.”
“Really?” Brian said, ignoring J.P.’s disappointed look.
“Why?”
Liz brightened. “Because…I showed him this.”
She pulled something out of her jeans pocket—a stubby blue
pencil, covered in teeth marks, inside a plastic sandwich bag.
She held it up. “See anything suspicious?”
“Um…” Brian peered at the chewed-up pencil. Then he saw
them—two narrow black marks, almost like—
“They’re burn marks!” Liz said eagerly. “Bickerstaff used this
pencil to poke the penny out.” She made a circle with her
thumb and forefinger and stuck the pencil in it. “See? It must
have touched the edge of the socket.”
“But…Liz, can you prove it’s his?”
“It is his!” Liz said. “Remember the day of the fire? He was
there earlier, for a building inspection! I remember he dropped
it! It must have been lying around forever, till Celia’s baby
brother John Mark found it. Now it’s safe—” She put the pencil
back in her pocket carefully. “So I can give it to the police.”
11
J.P. and Brian gave her impressed looks. “Wow,” J.P. said.
“Um…now what?”
“Now we got to talk about motive,” Liz said, nodding at
Brian. “Right, Burke?”
“Right. Motive,” Brian said, recovering himself. He thought
for a moment. “You know,” he said. “Mr. Costain went to some
hearing yesterday; the same day the pipe broke. I wonder what it
was for.”
“You don’t know?” Liz said. “Our building belongs to the
state. It used to be Woodhaven Elementary, until they built the
new place across town.”
“Really?” Brian said, interested. J.P. yawned.
“Yeah. The state was gonna tear it down, but Mr. Costain and
your dad came in and got a deal to lease it. And now the JP2HS
board of directors wants to buy the school, and the land. That’s
what these hearings are about.”
“So…Bickerstaff doesn’t want that.”
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
“I got it!” J.P. jumped up. “Check it out: Bickerstaff used to
be a student at this building, and…he killed somebody! He buried
the body inside the walls, and…”
“Who’d he kill?” Liz said dryly. “A relative of yours? I could
understand that.”
“That hurts, Liz.” J.P. tapped his chest. “Right here. Okay,
okay…gold! Maybe there’s a gold mine under the school—”
“There’s no gold around here.” Brian said, even though he knew
J.P. was kidding. “Only coal.” He held his head in his hands. The
whole thing was so mysterious…so dark. He remembered
something he had read in a Sherlock Holmes story. These are very
deep waters…
…the water on the hallway. The electric drill lying in a puddle. If
he hadn’t pulled Mary out of the way… the red flames bursting out
of the wall… He shuddered. A dark, malicious shadow seemed to
hang over the three of them, three teenagers huddled in a little
room, trying to puzzle things out, making feeble plans…
12
“We need more information,” he muttered. “We should do
research. About Bickerstaff, and about the school building.”
“I’ll look into Bickerstaff,” Liz said darkly. “I owe him. He got
me fired.”
“No pun intended!” J.P. volunteered cheerfully.
Liz reddened. Brian knew she was still sore about how her dad
had dismissed her from his construction crew on the day of the
fire. “So what are you going to do?” she retorted, looking at J.P.
“I’ll look into the school,” J.P. said, nodding solemnly. “I have a
personal interest now.”
“Really?” Brian said. “Like what?”
“Well…” J.P. stroked his chin. “In 1973, my uncle Cornelius
mysteriously disappeared…he was last seen near a certain rundown crappy old school, in the company of one Herman
Bickerstaff…”
Brian rolled his eyes. “And I’ll give this pipe to Dad.”
There was a knock on the door. “Brian? We’re home!”
Brian leapt to his feet as his mother walked into the classroom,
her long blond braid of hair switching behind her as she pulled off
her sunglasses. “There you are!” she said. “And J.P. and Liz too!
George and Celia are downstairs…I’ll have dinner ready in half an
hour—”
“Anyone else?” Brian said eagerly. “Did anyone else come?”
“No, not yet. Oh, that reminds me...Rosemary Summers called
to say they can’t come. Jacinta’s got play rehearsal tonight, and
Mary went to encourage her.”
Brian felt as though a bowling ball had been dropped on his
chest. “Oh,” he said slowly. “Okay.”
“But everyone else came!” his mom said encouragingly. “Come
on, say hi to your guests!”
“Play rehearsal?” J.P. snickered after his mom left the room.
“Mary Summers ditched your party for play rehearsal?”
“Gee,” Liz said dryly. “What a good friend. She must really care
about you.”
Brian turned and walked out of the room, scowling. It doesn’t
matter. They don’t know… we held hands. And then I saved her…and
she called me a hero. That’s got to count for something.
13
2
Birthday and Beach
“Ah…” Tara stretched.
“Check out that sunset!”
The four girls sat on the
beach, enjoying the sound of
the waves and the cool evening
breeze.
Allie flopped down on the
soft sand and closed her eyes. It
had been a perfect day. Exactly
what she needed. And tomorrow
I’m leaving for Bible camp, she thought. Two weeks away from it all…two
weeks with Keenan…
“So Allie,” Simone said. “What were you doing with my
brother all day?”
Allie giggled. “Nothing! We just went on the boardwalk, got
some ice cream…all good clean fun.”
They all chuckled, except Simone. “Hmmph,” she said. “Just
don’t forget: he’s not Tyler.”
“Believe me, I know!” Allie smiled to herself. But he’s not
George either.
Tyler was her ex-boyfriend from Sparrow Hills: a hands-on
kind of guy. And George was her ex-boyfriend from John Paul
2 High: a hands-off kind of guy. Heck, she had to work hard to
just get George to kiss her. But Keenan…to tell the truth, it was
hard to tell what Keenan was. Of course, he was a Christian; and
he had told her flat out that he wasn’t interested in going all the
way. He didn’t seem to have a problem with anything else
though. She looked down at her red bikini. I look so good in this,
she thought with a touch of smugness. He totally wanted me.
“I don’t know why you’re worried, Simone,” Tara said.
“Keenan’s so perfect—bet he’s still a virgin.”
“Hey, watch it!” Simone said.
14
“Ladies,” Ginger said, suddenly serious. “We’re all Christians
now. Being a virgin is a good thing.”
“Yeah…” Simone said grudgingly. She gave Allie a mistrustful
glance. “Don’t you forget that.”
Allie lay back down, frowning slightly. Simone had been giving
her lots of looks like that lately; apparently Allie wasn’t good
enough for her perfect brother. But then again—she smirked—it
was nice that Simone actually thought she was a threat. That she
was experienced. It hadn’t been easy shaking off the virgin smear.
That had been one of the hazards of being Nikki Miller’s best
friend at Sparrow Hills. None of the Ice Queens claimed to be
virgins. Allie was, but she wasn’t stupid enough to admit it.
She glanced at Ginger in her one-piece bathing suit; Ginger, the
coldest of the Ice Queens, Ginger, who used to brag about her
exploits and sneer at Nikki for being a prude…
“Hey Ginger!” Roger, their small group leader from Cross
Bridge Bible Church, walked up to them. “I’m organizing dinner
over here. You want to help?”
“Sure Rog.” Ginger stood up and stretched, her long straight
blond hair gleaming gently in the twilight.
“So Ginger,” Tara said casually. “What’s up with you and
Roger?”
“Nothing. We’re just friends.”
The other girls made skeptical noises. “No, seriously,” Ginger
said. “I’m taking a break from relationships.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.” Ginger yawned. “I want to take it slow, you
know? It’s nice.”
“Wow,” Tara laughed incredulously. “You really have changed.”
Allie glanced at Ginger, suddenly remembering the story Ginger
had told her.
I had a little…thing over the summer.
Did this ‘thing’ have a name?
Michael…he was the love of my life. He stole my heart.
Michael…Ginger’s secret fling. The boy she had gone out
with in secret last year. Whoever this Michael guy was, it must
have been a pretty intense relationship, because Ginger had
15
ended it, and still regretted it. I wimped out, she had said. I killed the
thing. It was just too much.
Ginger laughed. “Yeah, I have. I’m looking for a lifetime
commitment now.”
Allie lay back down, shaking her head. Wow. She sure has changed.
And all because of that Michael guy. I’d like to meet him someday.
Presents!” Celia selected a red-wrapped package from the coffee
table and plopped it on Brian’s lap.
“That’s from me!” J.P. crowed. “Open it! Open it now!”
Brian tore the wrapping paper off, and four squat, heavy, leatherbound books fell onto his lap. They looked brand new, with
handsome leather binding and gold lettering on the covers.
“It’s the Liturgy of the Hours!” J.P. said excitedly. “Priests use them!”
“Um…thanks, J.P.” Brian flipped through one of the books. He
had expected something different (like high explosives or a can of
snakes) and definitely not something so lavish. “How much did
this cost you?”
“Nothing!” J.P. said breezily. “My mom got them for me last
year, but I never used them. Figured you’d like them more.”
Brian flipped through one of the books. “I’ve heard about these
books before,” he mused. “They call them breviaries. There’s
morning and evening prayers, and you say all 150 psalms in four
week—”
J.P. started snoring loudly, and everyone laughed. Brian grinned
and put the books aside. Actually, all the presents were awesome: a
complete set of wrestling gear from George, a new video game,
Crowns of the Seven Realms II, from Celia, and from Liz…
He glanced at the coffee table. There was only one present left: a
small thin box wrapped in green paper.
“Who’s this from?” he said, glancing at Liz with a grin.
To his surprise, she only shrugged. “Don’t know, Burke. Not me.”
“It’s from me!” Melissa picked up the present and tossed it to
him. “And don’t forget to read the card!”
“Oh…okay.” Giving Liz a puzzled look, Brian unfolded the
card attached to the box.
16
Dear son, it said. Your sister convinced us to get this for you. We know
you’ll make good use of it. Love, Mom and Dad.
P.S. We loaded some apps already for your trip. Hope you don’t mind.
Confused but excited, Brian tore off the wrappings to reveal a
small, elegant black box. For a second they all stared at it…then
J.P. gasped.
“It’s a ThunderBolt!” he said, and promptly fell to his knees,
clasping his hands together. “Can I see it? Please?”
“Come on, J.P.!” Celia giggled. “Let him see it first!”
Brian opened the box and stared down at the ThunderBolt. He
picked up the gleaming black phone gingerly, as if afraid it would
evaporate.
“Don’t forget,” Melissa said, smiling mischievously. “It was my
idea. I’m the one who convinced Mom and Dad.”
Brian laughed. He suddenly felt more affection for his younger
sister than he had in months. “Thank you,” he said, and then
hesitated. “Melissa, if I’ve been mean to you lately—”
Melissa smiled. “Just say thank you, Mr. Spock.”
Brian grinned. “Thank you, Annoying Sister.” He stood up.
“I’m going to go thank Mom and Dad.”
Clutching his phone in one hand, he ran down the hallway, burst
into the main and ran to the kitchen door. “Dad? I got your—”
“Whoah! Easy there,” his dad said, holding out a hand to
prevent a collision. “So…you got your present, huh?”
“Yes! It’s awesome! Thank you!”
His dad chuckled. “You’re welcome. I figured you might need it
where you’re going. I installed a few apps on the phone to help
you; there’s ScriptureSearch, and Catechism Online, and…”
“Really? Cool!” Brian looked down at the phone, trying to
remember the name of that game Hank Berringer had shown him.
“So you had a good birthday?”
“Perfect! Except for…” He suddenly remembered Mary. “Well,
almost perfect.”
“Oh, that won’t do,” his dad said with a wry smile. “What
happened? More girl trouble?”
“Well…sort of,” Brian said awkwardly. “But I can handle it. I
better get back.” He turned to go.
17
“Brian?” His father touched his shoulder. “Hold on a sec.”
Brian turned around reluctantly.
“Tell me about this girl trouble. It might be important.”
“Um…that’s okay, dad.” He laughed nervously. “I got more
important things to worry about.”
“Like how you’re going to convince a girl to come back to the
Catholic Church?” His dad shook his head. “Brian, I meant what I
said before. Any time you have a question, I want you to ask me.
Especially about girls.”
“But…okay, fine.” Brian said resignedly. “How can I tell if a girl
likes me?”
“Hmm….” His dad gave him a shrewd look. “Some girl giving
you mixed signals?”
“Yes! Exactly! I thought she liked me…I was sure that she liked
me…but then she did something that made me think she doesn’t
like me.”
“Hmm…” His dad stroked his chin. “Could you be more
specific?”
“I’d rather not,” he said stubbornly. “It’s private.”
His dad’s forehead creased for a moment, and then he shrugged.
“Well, all I can do is give you some general information. First of
all—girls tend to assume that we understand them.”
“Don’t we? I mean…don’t you understand girls?”
“Oh, Lord, no,” His father shook his head decisively. “No.
Definitely not.” He chuckled. “Who would want to?”
“I would!” Brian said. “I like to figure out things! To get things
straight!”
“Women aren’t things, Brian.”
Brian shook his head impatiently. “Dad, I really have to get ready
for tomorrow. I haven’t finished packing yet, and I have to get my
notes in order, and—”
“All right, all right.” His dad hesitated. “One more thing, son.
Your mom and I are very proud of you for volunteering for this
unusual mission—”
“I know, Dad,” Brian said wearily.
“But—” his dad said pointedly. “This is a very difficult task.
Maybe a hopeless task. If you can’t do it, don’t beat yourself up.
18
Don’t forget to pray. And don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need
it. You can’t do everything on your own, Brian.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Brian said, feeling a little annoyed. “I
better…go…”
He walked down the hall, his brow furrowed in thought. As he
turned the corner, he almost ran into Celia. “Oh, there you are!”
she said, smiling brightly. “I wanted to make sure you remembered
everything—”
“Yes,” Brian said heavily. Celia had taken him aside the day
before and told him everything she knew about Allie, in a rambling,
rather disorganized way.
“And don’t forget this,” Celia said with a shake of her dark curly
hair as she handed him a thick heavy envelope. “You know, I
didn’t think I would finish it on time—”
“You finally tracked him down, huh?”
Celia grimaced. “It wasn’t easy. But what about you? Don’t you
want to add anything?”
“I am adding something,” Brian said testily, taking the envelope.
“I’m going, aren’t I?”
“Yeah. You are.” Celia hugged him. “Good luck.”
“I’m gonna need it.”
“There’s one more thing. If you do convince her—” Celia
hesitated, and then handed him a rosary made of glass beads. “This
is Allie’s,” she said, her voice suddenly breaking. “Along with
this…” she handed him a small miraculous medal on a silver chain.
“Maybe…she’ll want them back.”
Brian pursed his lips. One more thing to do… “Fine,” he said. “I got
to finish packing.”
Okay, okay!” Allie pushed Keenan’s face away with an awkward
laugh. “Break time!”
For a fraction of a second Keenan looked annoyed; then he sat
back down on the sand. “Okay.”
“Don’t worry,” she said coyly. “You’ll get more soon.”
Keenan shrugged. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
19
Allie’s smile faded away. What does that mean? She hesitated…and
then decided to let it go. This is what he needs. You know that.
Keenan put an arm around her shoulder, and they sat
together on the beach. The stars blazed above them in the
velvet sky. She glanced to her left. A couple hundred yards
away, the light from the Cross Bridge group’s campfire showed
up in a red glowing circle. As the breeze blew through her hair,
it carried the sound of singing voices:
Holiness, holiness is what I long for…
Holiness is what I need…
“Keenan?” she murmured.
“Yeah?”
“What does it mean? To be holy?”
“Oh…well…” Keenan hesitated. “It means…to be special.
Precious.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well…” he laughed. “You know the Ark of the Covenant?
You know, like in the movies?”
“Yeah…”
“That’s something that was holy. God made it holy. That’s
why it was so special. There’s a bunch of holy things in the Old
Testament…the tabernacle, and the gold vessels…you get the
idea. Don’t you Catholics have a lot of gold stuff? Holy water,
holy vessels…”
“I’m not Catholic anymore,” Allie murmured. “But…how can
we be holy? Like that song says?”
“You already are holy. You gave your life to Jesus, so that
makes you holy.”
“Hmmph…” Allie pulled her shirt on; it was getting cold. “I
don’t feel holy.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t feel holy to make out on the beach like
this!” Allie held her breath. There. I’ve said it.
Keenan looked surprised. “What’s the big deal? We’re not
doing anything bad…oh, hang on.” He nodded. “I know what’s
going on. This is some Catholic thing. Some guilt trip, right?”
“What?” Allie said, stung. “I told you, I’m not Catholic!”
20
Keenan shrugged. “Whatever. You’re still thinking like one.
Go to Mass, or you’ll go to Hell. Don’t you dare talk to God; go
to a priest. Go to confession to get your sins forgiven. Don’t get
divorced. All so legalistic. All so guilt-driven. I don’t think that’s
what Jesus would want.”
“And not what you’d want either, right?” Allie retorted. She
stood up.
Keenan’s face fell. “No! That’s not what I meant—Allie?
What’s wrong? Why are you mad?”
Allie looked down at him uncertainly. The anger had flared up
suddenly, and now it was gone. She just felt confused.
“I…I don’t know.” She sat back down.
Keenan looked anxiously at her for a moment. “You know I
really care about you, right?”
She let out a harsh laugh. “Quit with the sweet talk. You’re
not getting any more tonight.”
“Maybe I don’t want any more.”
Sudden panic rose up inside of her. “You don’t?” she said.
“Really?”
“Well…not if it bothers you.”
Whew. She felt relieved. He still likes me.
“No,” she said, trying to sound coy. “Not that much…as long
as you don’t mind dealing with my issues.”
He grinned. “I’ll survive.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I bet you will. Come on…”
Brian trudged down the stairs with two heavy duffel bags and
stopped short. Liz was standing by the doorway. “Hey,” she
said. “Need help with those?”
“That’s okay,” Brian said, surprised. “What are you still doing
here? I thought everyone had left by now.”
“Oh, I’m leaving, don’t worry. George is giving me a ride, and
he’s waiting outside for me. But I wanted to see you first.”
Brian heaved the bags onto the floor. “What for?” he
muttered. He was still annoyed and confused that she hadn’t
21
gotten him a present. “Do you want to yell at me again for
leaving?”
Liz chuckled. “No. Actually, I wanted to ask if you had a
good birthday. Did you?”
He blinked. “Um…yes. The presents were good. I just
wish…well…”
“That Mary had come?”
“Yes,” Brian said, irritated by the hint of scorn in Liz’s voice. “I
admit it. Okay?”
“Don’t get mad at me, Burke. I showed up for you, didn’t I?” Liz
tossed her head. “Mary’s bad news anyway. She’s out of your
league. She’s an eight and you’re—”
“A three,” Brian muttered. “So?”
“So Eights don’t go out with Threes. It’s not a good match.”
Brian sat down on the steps. “I wish I wasn’t going to this stupid
camp,” he mumbled. “I’d rather stay here and help you and J.P.
catch the poltergeist.”
Liz gave him an odd look. “Yeah…” she said quietly. “I wish
you were staying too. But hey, don’t worry about it.” She shrugged.
“You’ll do fine.”
Brian laughed bitterly. “Think so?”
“Well, I still think it’s impossible. But if anyone can do it, you
can.” She punched him in the arm. “So cheer up, stud! Go get
’em!”
“Thanks,” Brian said sourly, rubbing his arm. Liz punched hard.
You killed me.
Yes.
Why?
Allie’s eyes snapped open. Her heart hammered against her
chest. For a moment Nikki’s pale, lifeless face floated in front of
her, her brunette hair, the bloodstained dress…then it faded into
the yellow lines of the highway.
Must have fallen asleep. She looked to her left. Ginger was
glancing at her as she drove, frowning. In the back, Tara and
Simone were both still asleep.
22
“I’m fine,” she said automatically, even though Ginger hadn’t
asked. “Are we almost home?”
“Yeah,” Ginger said. She was silent for a few seconds, and
then said, “Allie, you were—”
“I know,” she muttered. “I was crying, right? Or moaning?”
Ginger nodded. “You sounded like you were having a
nightmare.”
Allie laughed bitterly. “Figured that out on your own, huh?”
She rubbed her forehead wearily. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve had
the same dream a million times.”
But not lately. She stared out into the night, her stomach
churning. Not since you met Jesus.
“You’re probably dehydrated,” Ginger said. “You’ve been in
the sun all day.”
“Yeah,” Allie said dully. “Maybe.” Or maybe guilt. Catholic guilt.
23
3
Battle on the Bus
Allie heaved her last
bag into the van and turned
back to Keenan. “That’s it!”
“Five bags.” Keenan shook
his head in amazement “Why
do girls need so much stuff?”
Allie giggled. “Well, you
know, clothes, makeup…it
takes a lot of work to look so
good.”
Keenan put his arms
around her and kissed her on
the forehead. “You do look
good, babe.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said sharply, pushing him away.
“Why not?”
“Just don’t, okay? I got to sign in,” Allie said irritably. She left
Keenan with the church van and walked to the main entrance of
Cross Bridge Community Church, where two buses were parked,
their engines chugging.
A crowd of campers, counselors and parents were gathered there.
Near the bus, two young men sat behind a card table covered in
papers: one short with spiky black hair, and the other tall with a pale
face and lank brown hair. Allie had met them before: Derek Adams
and Martin Layman, two college kids who volunteered at Cross
Bridge. Derek was dating Tara’s older sister, and Martin was Tara’s
cousin. The two of them were always arguing about theology or
something, like they were now.
“I still say verbal confession is necessary for salvation!” Martin
Layman said as she walked up.
“And I say your view doesn’t fit with divine mercy!” Derek
shot back, his hair looking even more bristly than normal.
24
“Divine mercy? That sounds Romanist. Where’s your Scripture
citation?”
“Allie! Over here!” Ginger waved to her from near the bus
doors.
“I’ll be right over!” Allie said, and turned to the table. “Um,
excuse me, guys, but…”
Derek looked up. “Oh, hello, Allison.” He wrote something
on a clipboard, then handed her a slip of paper. “You’re on Bus
1, over there, and your cabin assignment is here on this paper.
Divine mercy is implied in several verses!” he said hotly, turning
back to Martin. “What do you think the point of the Crucifixion
was?”
“It was to expedite the sins of the elect. See Ephesians 1, verse
five…”
Rolling her eyes, Allie walked over to Ginger.
“So,” Ginger said. “What cabin did you get?”
Allie looked down at her slip of paper. “Twenty-four.”
“Awesome! Me too!” Ginger leaned over and whispered,
“Tara got Jenn to assign all of us to the same cabin. Jenn’s our
counselor. It’s a good thing, too, ‘cause…”
Allie wasn’t listening; she was distracted by a voice she heard
behind her. It sounded vaguely familiar.
“Excuse me. Is this where you register?”
“Yes. Name, please?”
“Brian Burke.”
Allie spun around. No way.
Standing in front of the registration table was a thin black
teenager with glasses, two big duffel bags piled at his feet and an
uncomfortable look on his face.
“I can’t believe it,” Allie whispered.
“Allie?” Ginger looked curiously at Brian. “You know that
kid?”
“Hold on.” Allie marched up to Brian. “Hey! Brian!”
Brian looked up. “Allie!” he said. “Um…hello.”
“Hi. Can we talk? Alone?” Without waiting for a reply she
walked away. She heard Brian follow her, still fumbling with his
bags.
25
She stopped by the front doors of the church and turned
around. “What are you doing here, Brian? Are you coming to
Bible Camp?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Why?”
Brian shrugged his shoulders resignedly. “Well…I’m here to
convince you to come back to the Catholic Church.”
For a long moment Allie just stared at him, anger and astonishment
on her face. “Oh…really?” she finally said. “You think so?”
Feeling helpless, Brian only nodded.
“Good luck with that,” she snapped, and walked away.
Brian watched her go. Well, what did I expect? He bent down to
pick up his bags.
“Excuse me.”
He spun around, startled. A man in a polo shirt and jeans, with
straight black hair and an open, friendly face, was standing by the
front doors of the church.
“I’m sorry to pry,” the man said. “It’s just that I overheard
you speaking with that young lady. My name’s Mark Holtz. I’m
the pastor here at Cross Bridge.”
Brian just stared at him. A half-panicky, half-hopeful thought
went through his mind: Will he not let me come?
“Did you mean it?” the man said pleasantly. “What you said
to her?”
Brian hesitated. Liz would have thought of a plausible cover
story…but I’m not Liz. I’m just not. “Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, I did,
sir, with all due respect.” He took a deep breath. “I’m a Catholic, sir,
and I believe the Catholic Church is the only true Church. I think
Allie was led astray by your church, and I’m going to make every
effort to bring her back.”
He looked down at his sneakers, his face reddening.
“Hm-mm.” The man looked thoughtful. “What was your name
again?”
“Brian Burke, sir.”
26
“No need for the ‘sir.’ Well, Brian, thank you for your honesty;
although I doubt you were so frank on your registration form. I tell
you what: I’m going to respect your privacy. No one else needs to
know about your…er…purpose here.”
“Thank you, sir,” Brian said gratefully.
“However,” Pastor Holtz said in a firmer voice. “We need to
make some things clear.”
“Okay, sir.”
Pastor Holtz’s lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “This camp is
supposed to be a retreat; a time of prayer and reflection. You
understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Then you’ll understand how destructive distractions can
be; like debates, arguments, and proselytizing. If you make a
nuisance of yourself, you’ll be sent home. Do you understand?”
“I do, sir.”
“One more thing. You’re a camper here now, and under my
authority. Scripture instructs us to respect authority—”
“Yes, sir. In Romans 13.”
“Good!” Pastor Holtz looked pleased. “So you’ll have no
problem with participating in all our events. That includes our
praise and worship times, our Bible Studies, and fellowship events.
You will attend and participate. Okay?”
Brian felt his heart sink. “Okay.”
“Good!” Pastor Holtz clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you
at camp, Brian.” He walked back into the building.
Ruefully, Brian shouldered his bags and turned to the bus. I have
to participate in Protestant Bible studies…but I can’t argue with anybody.
Great.
S
cripture is full of references to tokens!” Derek said. “The mark of
Cain, the dew on Gideon’s fleece, the rituals surrounding the
tabernacle—”
“All your examples are from the Old Testament,” Martin said
stubbornly, crossing his arms. “Show me one instance of ritual
in the Pauline letters!”
27
“Will you guys shut up?” Tara said. “We’re trying to have a
conversation!” She turned back to Allie. “So, Allie, who’s that
friend of yours?”
Allie glanced up at Brian, sitting alone near the front of the
bus. “Oh, him?” she said lightly. “I barely know him.”
“Hang on,” Ginger said. “I thought I saw him before! He was on
the wrestling squad last year! He’s from your school!”
“Um…yeah,” Allie said. “I guess so.”
Ginger looked puzzled. “Why would you pretend you didn’t
know him? He’s probably lonely.”
Then he shouldn’t have come, Allie thought.
“Hey guys.” Keenan walked down the bus aisle and sat next to
Allie. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” Allie glared out the window as the bus engines roared
to life.
Are you still mad at me?”
Allie turned around, startled. “Huh?”
“You’ve been staring out the window for half an hour,” Keenan
said. “You haven’t said a word. What are you thinking? Are you
still mad at me about that ‘babe’ thing? Cause—”
“What? No, it’s…” Allie stood up. “That’s it. I’m going to get to
the bottom of this. Hang on.”
She stood up, elbowed her way past Keenan, and walked up to
Brian, who was still sitting alone, praying on a rosary made of glass
beads. She recognized it immediately.
She sat down next to him, startling him out of his prayer.
“Where’d you get that rosary?”
“From Celia. She said it was yours. Do you want it back? I have
another one.”
“Did Celia send you?” she said, ignoring the rosary Brian was
dangling in front of her.
Brian shrugged and put the rosary in his pocket. “Well…it was
Celia’s idea to send someone.”
Allie let out a bitter laugh.
28
“Why are you so angry at her?”
She ignored the question. “This is pointless, Brian. I’m not coming
back. I made my decision.”
“Maybe you didn’t have all the facts.” Brian pulled out a thick
spiral notebook. “I made some notes—”
“I don’t care. I’m not interested.”
Brian blinked. He scowled and tossed the notebook down. “Well,
I’m kind of stuck here,” he said irritably.
“Yeah. You kinda are.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Allie glanced at Brian again. Why
pick him, Celia? She hardly knew the guy. She never really understood
Brian – he was such a little weirdo.
“There’s also this.” Brian pulled a large, thick envelope out of his
pocket. “You should read it. It’s really impor—”
“I got it.” She snatched it from him irritably. Why can’t Celia just
leave me alone? Why can’t all of them?
“Allie,” Brian said. “Can you just tell me what happened? How did
you end up here?”
“Well, I don’t know…” Allie smiled, remembering. “I think God
made me come here.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up. “God made you come here?”
Allie chuckled and leaned back in her seat. “Well…um, let me tell
you what happened…”
She told him everything…more than she had even told Celia. She
told him how Ginger had kept pestering her…how she had felt so
lost, so alone in the dark…how she had tried to take refuge in anger
and hate, but ended up feeling even emptier than before…how she
had finally gone to Cross Bridge…how she had opened her heart to
Jesus…and how His love had broken her heart…how she had wept
and felt like she was safe again…how her heart had suddenly opened
and she had felt free for the first time in her life.
She told him about Keenan, and the night she gave her life to
Christ…and how ever since then, she had felt so close to Christ, like
He was watching over her, protecting her, guiding her steps…
“Because He loves me,” she finished, a rush of warmth going
to her cheeks.
29
“Because I was lost, and He found me, Brian. And you know
what? I think I love Him too. Isn’t that amaz—”
She looked up, and the words died on her lips. Brian was shaking
his head, a skeptical expression on his face.
Allie scowled and crossed her arms. “You don’t believe me, do
you? Why doesn’t anybody believe me?”
There she goes, flying off the handle again, Brian thought. Well, it’s not
surprising. Girls and emotions…it’s like chickens and feathers.
He felt a little better now. It was pretty obvious what had really
happened to Allie. All he needed to do now was explain it to her
(clearing up any heretical ideas she had picked up from these
Protestants) and it would be settled. Maybe, if he was lucky, he
could go home tomorrow.
Smiling inwardly at the thought, he cleared his throat. “Allie, I
believe you.”
Allie felt a sudden onrush of relief. “Finally!”
“Wait, wait.” Brian held up one hand. “Let me finish,” he said
pompously. “I believe that you’re sincere. But I just don’t know
about the other stuff.”
“The other stuff?” Allie said blankly. “Wait…do you mean the
stuff about Jesus?”
“Exactly,” Brian said. “The stuff about Jesus. Look, Allie… have
you had trouble eating lately?”
Allie’s mouth dropped open. “Um…yeah! How did you know?”
Brian smiled slightly. “Nightmares?”
“Yes! Terrible nightmares! But how—”
“And you said yourself that you’ve been rather depressed.”
“Of course I’ve been depressed!” Allie said, her patience wearing
thin. “What’s your point?”
“Allie, have you ever heard of post-traumatic stress disorder?”
“Um…” Allie bit her lip. “Isn’t that what, like, soldiers get?”
“Yes,” Brian said. “But it can happen after any violent event.
Allie, I think you have it.”
30
“Why?”
“Because you have the symptoms. You have flashback dreams.
You’re depressed. You’ve had trouble eating. It’s not surprising,
Allie. I was there. I remember how crazy it was.”
Allie looked down at her hands, pondering his words. “That
makes sense,” she said softly. “Thanks, Brian. That explains a lot.”
“It explains everything,” Brian said impatiently. “Don’t you see
that?”
“What do you mean?”
Brian gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, Allie,” he said, sounding
like he was explaining something to a particularly stupid person.
“This friend of yours, Ginger…she tells you that Nikki went to this
Cross Bridge place, so naturally you want to go too. You missed
Nikki. You wanted to be where she was. Right?”
“Well…” Allie hesitated. “I guess so, but—”
“So you went to Cross Bridge. You listened to some nice music.
You heard a nice sermon. Right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“And then you say that Jesus spoke to you. Let me ask you
something, Allie. What if the music hadn’t been nice? Would Jesus
not speak to you then? If you take out just one of these things—the
music, the good sermon, the connection to Nikki—would Jesus
not have come to you?”
“I…” Allie stammered. “Um…”
“Allie, Allie,” Brian said. “You’re a girl. You have strong
emotions. I understand that. Isn’t it possible that all your emotions
just got wound up so tight that you just felt like you had a religious
experience? Isn’t that what happened?”
Brian felt a little thrill of relief as he watched Allie’s mouth drop
open. Thank goodness. She gets it.
“Allie,” he said earnestly. “Is this any reason to leave the Catholic
Church? For the sake of an emotional experience?” It’s going to
happen now…she’s going to see the error of her ways, and this whole mess will
be cleared up.
31
“The truth,” he finished, “is that your emotions aren’t that
important, Allie. Faith and reason are important. Emotions are
just…well, unreliable.”
He sat back and waited, unable to restrain a smile. Allie wasn’t
looking at him. Clearly she was pondering what he had said.
She turned back to him, smiling pleasantly. “All right, Brian,” she
said. “Let’s see if I understand. Be patient with me, okay?”
“No problem,” he said, returning her smile.
“You think that everything I felt about Jesus is just because my
best friend got shot. Right?”
“Well…” he hesitated. “I know it sounds kind of harsh, but—”
“No, no! We care about the truth here, right? I’ve just been
fooling myself, and all this stuff about God and Jesus is just a big
pipe dream, right?”
“Well…” Brian suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t go that
far—”
“Don’t worry about it, Brian!” Allie said brightly. “I agree!”
Brian gulped. “You do?”
“No, I don’t. I think you’re full of crap.” Allie stood up. “Brian
Burke, do you know what you are?”
He gaped at her. “Uh…?”
“You’re an arrogant little twerp, and you don’t know anything
about girls.” Allie’s smile was gone now, and her face was dark with
anger. “And you know what?” she added. “You might be right
about some things. Maybe I am emotional. So what? Just because
something’s emotional doesn’t mean it’s fake. I know Jesus saved
me. I know He healed me. And He didn’t do it in the Catholic
Church.”
“But…but…” Brian stammered. “I know it may have felt like
that, Allie, but it doesn’t mean anything! It’s not a sacrament—”
“Blah blah blah!” Allie shot back. “Whatever. I only go by what
the Bible says. Are all your sacraments in the Bible? Are they?”
“Yes!” Brian stood up. “I can show you if you—”
“Bye, Brian.” She walked away.
32
Move over,” she snarled, shoving Keenan aside and throwing
herself down on the seat. “The nerve of him!” she muttered.
“The…nerve! Who does he think he is?”
The others all stared at her. “Allie?” Ginger said cautiously.
“Are you okay? Did you get in a fight with your Catholic
friend?”
“Catholic?” Martin looked up. “Is there a Catholic here?”
Allie smiled coldly. “Yeah. See that kid up there? He’s
Catholic. Believes in rosaries and statues and everything. You
should try to convert him.”
Derek jumped to his feet, Bible in hand. “A Papist! Come
on!” he said to Martin, and they both started towards the front
of the bus.
Brian slumped back into his seat, red-faced and humiliated. What
was I thinking? he thought bitterly. She wouldn’t comprehend…it’s too much
to expect… He looked down at his notebook, full of notes on
scripture and apologetics, and a cold fury took hold of him. The truth,
he thought savagely, is that Allie’s not that bright. That’s all there is to it.
“Hi there!”
Two guys were looking down at him. One was short, with spiky
black hair and a broad grin. The other was tall and skinny with lank
brown hair and pale, intense face. He stared at Brian curiously, as if
he were a particularly interesting insect.
“I’m Derek!” Spiky Hair said. “And this is Martin! What’s your
name?”
“Brian,” Brian said, suddenly wary. “Brian Burke.”
“I hear you’re a Catholic.” Skinny Guy’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“Is that true?”
“Yes,” Brian said. “I am.”
“Really,” Skinny Guy said, sitting down on the seat opposite him.
“So, I’ve always wondered…what’s it like, being a follower of the
Whore of Babylon?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Brian said, startled. “Look, I’m not really
interested in—”
33
“I see you got a rosary there,” Spiky Hair said, sitting down
next to Martin. “Do you know the Bible warns us against vain
repetitions?”
“Look, guys,” Brian said desperately. “I’m not supposed to
get in arguments with other campers! Pastor Holtz said so!”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Skinny Guy said with an unpleasant smile.
“We’re counselors.”
“Yep!” Spiky Hair said brightly. “We can do whatever we
want! So, Brian,” he said, opening up his Bible. “Can you tell me
why Catholics worship statues, in clear violation of the Biblical
injunction against idolatry?”
Brian glanced back at Allie. She was smirking.
I’ll get her for this. He reached for his notebook.
34