Devotion Apart Read online

  At breakfast, we ate omelets at the counter, Tyler, Janae, and myself. Craig wasn't out of bed yet, but neither butler nor housekeeper spoke ill of his late-night time spent in the wine cellar. Instead, they talked about getting a dog and replanting a tree that had died on the property line. It sounded like a casual family conversation, but I read a little deeper. They were avoiding what they believed they could not influence—society, crime, and pandemics. To an extent, they were just like Shay. That meant Tyler and Janae needed the gospel message as much as anyone else. Craig's household wasn't addicted to drugs; they were addicted to apathy, and I wasn't sure one was any better than the other.

  I told them I'd be home late, and headed for the city on the motorcycle. It was time to get better acquainted with the locals. Although there was spiritual work to do under Craig's roof, I believed that God moved through the quiet example of Christ in some venues, and outright preaching in others. Where hearts were stubborn and consciences were hardened, an indirect approach seemed more effective.

  Stopping at every intersection, I weaved my way to the city square. I parked on the street and walked toward La Paz Monument, a tall fountain and round pool in the middle of the square. To the north was the Pioneer Museum, and to the south was the courthouse and county jail. East and West were occupied by the county library and more county offices. All of these buildings were the same as I remembered. On Saturday, they were all closed, but pedestrians were about in droves, exercising, peddling wares, or panhandling.

  On the wall of the fountain, I found a perch where I took out my phone and practiced using the camera to identify people. The first person I captured on my lens was a man who laid carpeting during the week. His knees were bad, and his credit card debts were five figures heavy. He'd recently been shopping for handguns on the internet. He passed out of my sight, but I stored his profile in my phone to keep an eye on him.

  Next was a young woman who was in her late teens. Her profile identified her as a missing person, but she walked hand-in-hand with a man about her age. She didn't seem to be in much trouble or danger, so I didn't insert myself into her missing person status. But I did log her profile for a follow-up when my church contacts were established.

  Over the next hour, I studied twenty more people, sampling the city through a few of its citizens and their private needs. On the outside, everyone appeared to be happy, content, and healthy. But evidence of their secrets was revealed in the way they spent their money, time, and energy.

  "Excuse me?" A Chinese-American woman with two of her friends approached me from the side. "Could we get a photo with you?"

  "With me?" I was suddenly disappointed that I wasn't blending in as well as I'd intended. "I don't understand."

  "It's you. I recognize you from ReVo." She smiled at my attire. "You won the slap challenge. It's totally gone viral!"

  "Sure, I guess." I shrugged.

  All three ladies crowded around me on the fountain wall. Each one snapped a photo, laughing and speaking excitedly in Mandarin, then walked away. I was reminded that I wouldn't remain anonymous in the city.

  I dialed Sadona Escobar's phone.

  "This is Cord Dalton," I said when she answered. "I don't know if you remember me, but a few days ago, you gave me a ride from the airport."

  "You're joking, right?" She laughed. "You think I'm rescued every day? I didn't think I'd be hearing from you again."

  "I might be in Devotion longer than planned. I scattered your business cards across a few ad displays at Morliam Acres. Their management office doesn't look too visited, but I did what I could."

  "It's more than I could do, Cord. Thank you."

  "It was no problem. Listen, may I be direct with you? I'm sort of a guy who leaps while looking."

  "Uh. That's ambiguous, but go ahead."

  "Are you a born-again Christian?"

  "Okay." She laughed again. "You're right. That is direct, but I've been asked stranger questions. How did you know?"

  "You had the radio on a Christian station in the car."

  "A lot of people listen to positive and uplifting music in their cars."

  "I didn't hear you swear, you were wearing cross earrings, and you help travelers in peril."

  "In peril?" She scoffed. "You were the traveler and I was the one in peril, if you remember right. So, I take it you're a Christian, too?"

  "I am. Can you meet me at the La Paz Memorial right away?"

  "Uh. . ."

  "I need to speak to another Christian about a ministry idea."

  "What happened to you leaving right away?"

  "Long story." I checked my phone. It showed Sadona at her mother's house in the living room in Two Sheep Meadows. "I know it's Saturday, but can you spare a couple hours for me?"

  "I suppose it wouldn't be too odd to meet with you, seeing that we already have some history together."

  "Exactly, I'm just a Christian pilgrim asking his sister in Christ to come to his aid."

  "You said it was a ministry idea. What do you need a real estate agent for?"

  "Well first, we can start by getting to know one another."

  A moment passed. I watched a homeless woman study me. When she approached, I saw sores on her face and arms.

  "I'll be there in twenty minutes," Sadona finally said.

  "I'll be waiting."

  The homeless woman hustled up the last few feet as I stowed my phone in my satchel.

  "Can you transfer me a few dollars?" She held her phone out to me. A scab crossed two fingers where she'd cut herself on something in the last couple days. "I promise I'll spend it on food. The pandemic has been hard on me and my family."

  "Sit here beside me." I gestured to the fountain wall. "What's your name?"

  "Do you have anything for me or not?" She didn't sit down.

  "No, I don't have any food or money for you. Where's your family? You have children?"

  "No." She backed away from me. "Not anymore."

  "Please, don't go." I stood. "Stay a moment. I want to know your story."

  She shook her head, turned, and shuffled out of the square.

  Sadona strolled up twenty minutes later. Her hands were in the pockets of her jeans, and her hair was pulled back, her face glowing in the afternoon sun. It was a face that would've left me breathless, if I hadn't looked away. She walked past me, taking in the people and the two taco trucks parked against the curb nearby. Finally, she approached and hopped onto the wall beside me.

  "What was all that about?" I asked.

  "A girl can't be too careful these days." She didn't meet my eyes. "My friend Tina Leaf was kidnapped, and they still haven't found her. I know you're okay, but I grew up here. I like to know my surroundings. So, you asked me here?"

  "You're one of the only Christians I know in the city. I'd like to be introduced to others."

  "You want to—?" She frowned, now looking me in the eyes, her head low. "That's what you want from me?"

  "I want to meet more Christians. I'm new in town, remember?"

  "You look homeless, but you have rich friends. You appear like a nobody, but you're actually famous. Now you tell me you're new here, but you said a couple of days ago that you were born here."

  "Yes, but back then I wasn't a Christian. Since I came to Christ, I've learned how the body of Christ should operate together. That's who I want to connect with."

  "You could have asked me this over the phone." She rolled her eyes. "I thought this was personal. I thought—"

  "You thought?" I smiled. "What?"

  "That you were asking me out."

  "Asking you out?" I cleared my throat. "Oh, I probably wouldn't be that presumptuous about you. I mean, look at me. And look at you."

  "What's wrong with me?" The muscles in her jaw rippled.

  "Nothing. That's the point. You're way out of my league. I'm just asking for an introduction. I want to talk to some Christian leaders in the city. I'm guessing you know one or two?"

  "Yeah, but wait. Wh
at do you mean I'm way out of your league? You're saying I'm too perfect? Or stuck up?"

  "No, I find you very likable." I chuckled. "Do you not want me to meet your Christian friends?"

  She was silent, fiddling with the phone on her lap. I noticed she was wearing the same cross earrings.

  "I. . .don't like being teased."

  "You're right." I took a deep breath. "I wanted to see you again. Personally. Talking over the phone wouldn't do. I wanted to look you in the face and hear in your own words how you came to Christ. I have some ideas for things in this city, so I'm looking for believers willing to give their all for the cause of Christ. No compromise."

  "You think you're going to cause some sort of revival or something?"

  "In these last days, I just want to share the gospel and see a few people born again. Other people can worry about labeling it."

  "Isn't arrogance sort of counterproductive to the faith?"

  "This isn't arrogance." I threw up my hands, now the flustered one. "This is confidence. I don't know what kind of Christianity you're familiar with, but the God I serve gets His people active as soldiers against darkness."

  "There are new laws in this city about trying to convert people from one faith to another. They say it's for our own protection, because of the kidnappings, but it's really just to shut us up and not to offend anyone about the sin they love."

  "Explain the laws to me." I frowned. "What are we up against legally?"

  "They're called ADX laws. You're not allowed to afflict people, disregard rights, or expose anyone else to anything the government calls dangerous."

  "Well, hell is dangerous. Satan and sin are dangerous. Maybe laws that harm these people aren't laws that we'll follow. The law of love is much more important, and sometimes the law of love afflicts sin, disregards people's opinions, and exposes the dangers of hell. I'll preach that on the steps of the courthouse if God wants me to."

  "Then you'd be arrested, Cord, even if you are ReVo's new viral star right now. They don't allow Christians to speak publicly anymore. We're considered too judgmental and discriminatory, haven't you heard?"

  "Yeah, I've heard it all." I touched her hand. "But what do you think we should do?"

  "You'll put all of us in danger, talking like this." She looked away, moving her hand away from me. "Tina was serious, like you are now, and they took her. She wanted to help Devotion heal from its physical and spiritual wounds. She stood up against the removal of Christian centers in the city. Now where is she?"

  "We can't live our lives based on what the world might do to us. I don't even think we need to fight for our rights to help people, not when we're told in the Bible that this is the direction the world is headed anyway. Fighting for rights is really just a fight for convenient religion. I'd rather fight for souls, even if it draws a little persecution."

  "I'm just telling you what you're up against. They'll take you, Cord, either by ADX criminal charges, or you'll disappear like Tina."

  "Let's step back for a moment." I took a deep breath. "Let's put aside the possibility of going to prison for evangelizing. I want to know about you. What's shaped you for Christ up to today? How's your relationship with God?"

  "This is serious," she said. "You're asking me about my faith."

  "That's exactly what I'm asking."

  "Okay, I was born here, and grew up in Two Sheep Meadows. My mom still owns the same house, and I live with her. Pretty boring, I know. I accepted Christ when I was in junior high."

  She described her life as awkward through her teenage years, wanting to live as a young woman for Christ in a high school that pressured her to sleep around and get high. Her small church didn't have a youth group, but she had found purpose serving beside her mother, baking for the homeless. Later, she'd gone to night school for business, and gotten her real estate license, then joined Artisan Real Estate. She had been discipled by a church elder and his wife, Tobias and Emma Sullivan. Tobias was a retired carpenter who made baby cribs for single mothers who had limited income.

  "I'm not daring or frontline material, as you put it," she assured. "I wouldn't be any good at anything that would put me in danger, and that's just what you're headed into if you want to do big things for God in this city. All of us are taking a good lesson from what happened to Tina."

  "As much as I wish I could've met her, I wasn't here for that." I bowed my head, realizing Tina Leaf's disappearance had discouraged people more than emboldened them. "But let me ask you about this Tobias Sullivan. Can you set up a meeting with him for tomorrow night?"

  Sadona wiped at her eyes.

  "You don't know how to take things slow, do you?"

  "Not when the way forward is clear."

  *~*~*

  The next morning, I dressed in one of the suits Craig had bought me, looked at myself in the mirror, then changed back into my Amazon clothes. Someday, I'd need to wear something besides my faded threads, but not yet.

  In the kitchen, I ate breakfast with Tyler and Janae, who ate in silence as they watched the morning news. Another virus outbreak was happening in Denver, and more food processing plants were laying off people in the Midwest. Race riots were raging in Florida, and Armenia was still at war with Turkey.

  For an hour, I read the Bible at the dining table, quietly communing with God as Tyler went about his chores and Janae busied herself in the kitchen. Neither asked what I was reading, and I didn't think I needed to explain. They already knew. My Bible was open before me, and my head was bowed.

  Around ten, I climbed into Craig's Jeep Cherokee and drove into the city. I vaguely remembered a church building in the west part of town where Craig said Cora had attended, but the structure had been rebuilt and upgraded in size. Now, the church complex filled an entire city block, not counting the parking structure. From the outside, the roof alone appeared to have been designed for opera level acoustics.

  In the parking lot, I was met by suited church greeters, but on their heels were several of the city's panhandlers. The greeter who met me welcomed me with a smile, a fist bump, and a brochure. Then, he was off to meet other arrivals. When the panhandlers sneaked past him a moment later and approached me, I told them I didn't have any food or money to give them, so they wandered off—after a few curse words aimed at my lack of Christian love.

  At the front of the church, parishioners passed through a gauntlet of additional homeless people, each with outstretched hands and phones. People in front of me gave canned food to several of the transients, or paused long enough to transfer a few dollars into their accounts. At the door, a security officer with a taser on his belt, and a wand in his hand checked my appearance.

  "No panhandling inside," he warned, "or we'll escort you out. But if you want to listen to the service, that's okay."

  "I understand." I smiled, thankful for the opportunity to be counted among the poor. "I won't do any begging inside unless it's to God."

  He waved me forward. When I looked back, I noticed the homeless didn't bother to approach the entrance. Their appearance wasn't restricting them from entering since I'd been allowed inside, but they had no interest. They were being given everything they wanted in donations on the outside.

  In the foyer, I was welcomed by additional greeters much older than those in the parking lot. They wished me a good day and hoped I enjoyed the service, then they handed me a business card with a system of payment to donate to the ministry. The card read, "Sow a seed to have a more prosperous life!" With a picture of dollar signs and a beach in Hawaii.

  The sanctuary was really an auditorium, and sweet music poured out of the speakers which were lined along the walls and ceiling. I found a seat in a comfortable chair to the left of the stage. A full choir sang and a lively band played what sounded like a modern love ballad. The audience was upbeat and friendly, so friendly, in fact, that several offered me small financial donations to assist with a new wardrobe. I politely declined, pleased to be recognized as someone besides a ReVo star.
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br />   The service started with the band rocking out with drums and an electric guitar that tested my ears' tolerance, but the audience loved it. Then came the R&B and rappers. I couldn't make out the words hollered by the lead shouters, but I hoped someone could understand a Christian message of some sort. After all, this was supposed to be a church service.

  A softer song followed, and the audience swayed to the music, many of them raising their hands in apparent rapture. The lyrics were about a man in search of water, but instead found a reservoir in the desert. And he became king in the wasteland, where people honored him for his greatness. However, I couldn't figure out who the man represented spiritually—although the music itself was very pleasant to the ears.

  An announcer welcomed newcomers, and directed us to a church app through which anyone could order name brand wine, and most of the proceeds would go toward re-carpeting something referred to as the activities room, and a new sound system for the gymnasium next door.

  The announcer went on about a low-rider car show and bikini car wash the following month to fund several youth functions coming up. After I realized he was not joking, I looked around to see parishioners making donations and scheduling the events on their phones.

  The next twenty minutes was a cringe-fest for me as a hip-hop concert fired up the crowd. Men with weighty gold chains, sagging pants, and sunglasses mumbled back and forth into the microphones, occasionally shouting, "Amen" or "Jesus." Again, I couldn't catch the message.

  Finally, a young preacher in an expensive looking suit took the podium. His image on a screen was enlarged twenty times, so that his gold watch and platinum tie clip couldn't be missed.

  He started his message with a joke about a rabbit in the Garden of Eden saying, "Lettuce eat." After that, he encouraged the listeners to keep looking past the challenges of life or they'd never achieve their dreams. Their own Garden of Eden was within their grasp, but we needed to unite and work hard. Although my Bible was poised for opening, Scripture was not referenced, only alluded to out of context, in regard to some promise God supposedly made about succeeding in life where others had failed. People all around me nodded their heads. and said Amen. Fifteen minutes later, the service was over. Only then did I notice that I was the only oddball at the event who had brought an actual Bible.