Part 40 (1/2)

Katie's phrase echoed in her mind: ”G.o.d is weird.”

”Time to go,” the van driver called as he started up the engine.

Forcing a smile, Christy waved to her old teammates and climbed into the van. ”Bye. I'll be praying for you guys. Pray for me!”

The van door slid shut, and Christy's seven friends all stood in a line, waving good-bye. Then at Katie's signal. just as the van pulled away, all seven of them a.s.sumed a weight-lifter pose and called out, ”You are missionary woman!”

She laughed aloud, and one of the guys in the van said. ”What was that?”

”A little joke,” Christy said, still wavering between smiling and crying.

The train ride to London seemed to go quickly. Christy sat beside Jakobs, the guy from Latvia Katie had introduced her to. Jakobs was several years younger than Christy, but in some ways he seemed more mature, as if he had lived more of life in his sixteen years than Christy would experience in a lifetime. Jakobs wore his very short hair brushed straight up in the front. He was a few inches shorter than Christy.

Several hours into their train ride, Jakobs bought Christy a cup of tea and shared some of his sack lunch with her. Mrs. Bates had handed each of the students a sack lunch and at the same time had promptly planted a kiss on every team member's right cheek. Christy had stuck her lunch into an open corner of her suitcase, which was now nearly impossible to get at. She gladly shared Jakobs's sandwich.

”Are you yet used to the idea of going to Spain?” Jakobs asked.

Something mechanical turned on inside Christy's head. and she said. ”Yes. I believe this is G.o.d's plan, and so I know He will work everything out. I'm learning to trust G.o.d in new ways.”

A slow grin crept up Jakobs's face. ”I think you are speaking to me through the flowers.”

Although Jakobs's English was very good, sometimes his accent made his words sound a little unclear to Christy. She asked what he meant by ”speaking through the flowers.”

Jakobs looked a bit embarra.s.sed. ”It's an expression from where I live in Riga. We use it to mean when a person is making a pretty covering for his words and not saying what he truly feels. You are then *speaking to me through the flowers.”'

Christy knew Jakobs was right. She was trying to sound brave and spiritual. What she really felt was terrified. Did she dare tell him? He seemed the sort of person she could trust.

”I'm really scared,” she said.

Jakobs gave her a look of compa.s.sion and said, ”Of what?”

”Of getting lost. Of missing my train connections.” ”Then you can take the next train.” Jakobs answered logically.

”But what if I can't find the right train? What if something happens, and I lose my luggage or my pa.s.sport?”

”You go to your Emba.s.sy, apply for another pa.s.sport, and wear your same clothes for two days in a row.”

Christy couldn't tell if Jakobs was teasing her or if he was trying to be helpful. Earlier that week Christy had overheard Jakobs talking with a Texan about how Americans were overly concerned about their clothes and hygiene. The girl from Texas had to wash and blow-dry her hair every morning, and she never went out in public without her makeup perfectly applied. Jakobs told her she should try wearing the same clothes for more than one day to practice being a good steward of what G.o.d had given her. The girl told Jakobs he was crazy.

Christy didn't think he was crazy, but she did think he had a rather simplistic approach to life. ”What if I get attacked, or what if I get killed?” Christy challenged him with a worst-possible scenario.

Jakobs's grin returned. ”Then you will die and be with the Lord, and perhaps I might envy you getting to heaven before me.”

Christy smiled back. Jakobs certainly had an eternal perspective on life. With such heaven-oriented thinking, it made it hard to see anything as bad. In Jakobs's vocabulary, the term tragedy didn't seem to exist.

Christy finished her last sip of lukewarm tea and said, ”In America we would probably call you a Pollyanna.' That means someone who finds the good in every situation.”

”In Riga, you would probably tell me to *find ducks.'” Jakobs said and then chuckled at his own apparent joke.

”Find ducks'?”

”It's our way of saying *go away.' Not everyone says it. Just some of my friends. If you go to Riga, you might not want to try that on just anyone. Especially someone like the officer who stamps your visa.”

Christy couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to visit a country like Latvia. Spain was exotic enough for her.

Spain. The sudden thought of Spain paralyzed her all over again. Her feelings must have shown on her face.

”Are you again worried about the trains?” Jakobs asked.

Christy knew better than to try ”speaking through the flowers” to him again. ”I guess a little.”

”What is your verse?” Jakobs asked.

”My verse?”

”You need a verse. Something from G.o.d's Word to plant in your heart for this trip.”

”To plant in the garden of my heart?” Christy said, thinking of Tracy's poem.

”Yes. You need a promise to...how do you say it?” Jakobs clenched his fist. ”Held on with?”

”You mean to hold on to,” Christy said. ”You think I need a special verse to hold on to.”

”Yes, I do.”

”Do you have a verse?” Christy asked.

Jakobs nodded, and he rattled off some words in his melodic Latvian tongue. ”It is Jeremiah 1:7-8. Sorry, but I do not yet know it in English. May I read it in your Bible?”

Christy dug to the bottom of her bag, pulled out her Bible, and turned to Jakobs's verse. She handed her Bible to him, and in his wonderful accent he read it to her. ”But the Lord said to me. ”Do not say, *I am only a child.' You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord.'”

”That's perfect!” Christy said. ”That's exactly how I feel.”

”This is my verse, ”Jakobs said in a teasing voice, holding Christy's Bible close to his chest. ”You need to search until you find your own verse.”

”Oh, go find ducks!” Christy said, teasing him right back. ”I can have the same verse if I want to. Now give me my Bible back!”

Jakobs laughed. ”You should do just fine in your new culture. I am not worried for you at all.”

Christy hoped Jakobs's words would come true. They seemed true enough when the group made its connection in London. Everything went as planned, nice and smooth. All Christy had to do was follow the other team members to the ticket window and buy her ticket to cross the English Channel. Then she waited in line with them again to buy her train ticket to Barcelona while the others bought their tickets to Amsterdam.

The envelope Dr. Benson had handed her that morning had a little money leftover after the purchase of her tickets. With the two pounds and some change, Christy bought herself a candy bar while they waited.

Fortunately, she decided against eating it right away. The ferry ride across the English Channel proved to be a little too rough for her stomach. The candy bar would have come right back up.

About twenty-five minutes into the trip. Christy knew she couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer. Leaving her seat next to Jakobs, she cautiously maneuvered her way to the bathroom. She barely made it into one of the bathroom stalls before she threw up. She hated throwing up. What made it worse was. right when she thought she might be okay, she could hear someone in the stall next to her throwing up, and that made her feel like doing it all over again.

It was a horrible experience. Christy slumped on the bathroom floor, feeling too weak to return to her seat.

This is awful; I'm never going to make it. I can't go on! This whole trip was a huge mistake. G.o.d, what are Tou trying to do to me?