A Strange Kind of Strength

Scene 1

“We haven’t got much farther to go, Shade,” his mother said matter-of-factly.
“A hundred miles is quite a lot, isn’t it?”
“You don’t know anything about driving. Just shut up.”
There was a long silence as they drove down the road. She was looking straight ahead and he was tying a string in knot after knot.
Shade finally said “So what is Uncle Cren like? Does he like to play football?”
“I doubt it. He’s a scientist. I’m putting a lot on his shoulders by having you spend the summer with him. You better not cause him any trouble.”
“A scientist? Wow. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I didn’t think you would care. You don’t do well at science in school and--"
“Mom, I worked really hard last year. I can’t help it I got a D.”
“Please. You obviously could have worked harder…”
“That teacher hated me.”
“Nobody hates you--"
“Everybody hates me, Mom! Why do you think I’m going to my uncle’s house for the summer even though I haven't seen him since I was a baby and he lives eight hours away? It’s because I don’t have any friends!”
“Just stop it! I don’t want to hear another word from you until we get to my brother’s house.”
All fell silent aside from the car going along the highway. Shade resorted to tying knots while his mom just drove. He was too angry to look at her, but too afraid to say anything else. His anger was like a lava lamp- always moving and working inside, but never escaping to the world outside. And since it never made it out it seemed not so real.
“Here we are,” Shade’s mom stated at last as she pulled up a long bumpy driveway. Shade looked up. There were huge trees everywhere and tall thick grass. The yard was unkempt. They drove up to a gigantic brick house. Out of the door came an overweight man, wiping his hands with a rag. He wore overalls and an oily hat. His attire fit perfectly with his long hair and beard.
Shade’s mom got out of the car and Shade followed her to the man. He greeted and hugged her. Shade backed off a little, hoping not to have such a greeting himself from the strange man. But the man’s eyes turned to him.
“Cren,” said Shade’s mom, “meet my son, Shade.”
“Hello,” Uncle Cren told Shade, shaking his hand. “I didn’t know you were so handsome. Let’s see you must be nine or ten now?”
“Actually he’s fourteen,” Shade’s mom said, forgivingly. “He’s just kind of small.” She patted Shade’s shoulder as his face turned red with embarrassment. He felt like a lion being mistaken for a house cat or a wolf being mistaken for a Chihuahua. But this lion and this wolf are much too tame to do anything about it.
“Can you come in for lunch or tea or something?” Uncle Cren asked Shade's mother.
“Well, I would love to stay a while, but I’ve got to get to the airport. Come get your bags, Shade.” He followed her to the car obediently, but angrier than when he had left it, and took out his bags. “Now do whatever your uncle tells you,” his mom told him. “Cren, he can be some trouble sometimes. Do whatever you have to to keep him in line. Thank you for doing this. I’ll call you, Shade!”
“Bye, Carol!” shouted Uncle Cren. “Drive safely!”
Shade stood silently and watched his mother drive off. He was glad to see her go, but he feared spending the summer with the figure beside him. And yet he stood there helplessly, like the house cat he almost was.




Scene 2

Inside, Uncle Cren’s house was very large, but extremely cluttered and dirty. Uncle Cren’s voice seemed to change. It lost some of its original warmth as he said “Your room is the sixth door on the right upstairs. After you unpack you can come back down for dinner and we will get further acquainted.” Shade nodded and pulled his bags up the stairs. At the top he found a long hallway. There were many doors. He saw that even after the sixth one there were several more. The walls were blank and seemed to be begging for a new coat of paint.
Opening the sixth door on the left, Shade found a decent sized room, larger than his room at the apartment at home. It had a small bed, a dresser, and a mirror. Shade set his bags down and looked at himself in the mirror. He flexed his arm muscles. So, I’m a little small for my age. It’s not a big deal. He unzipped his suitcase and pulled out several shirts, refolded them, and set them neatly inside one of the dresser drawers. Well, I’ll run and lift weights and practice football hard this summer. And I’ll get on the team. It won’t matter that I’m short because I will be so strong and fast. I don’t know- maybe short guys are popular in high school. Yeah, he laughed at himself I’m sure short, stupid, dorky guys with glasses are popular in high school. How strange it is to wound oneself that way. It is like a soldier putting the sword to his own body. It does not ease the pain.
By now Shade was putting up the last of his clothes in the dresser. He began unpacking his backpack. It held a CD player and some CDs. But mostly there were little gadgets and tools and instruction books in it. He set these things in piles beside the window. He placed the CD player on the floor by his bed and set the CDs against it.
There was one more thing in the side pocket of his backpack. It was a picture of his family- himself at three months old with his mom and dad. His dad looked tall, dark and strong in the picture. He had blue eyes and dark hair like Shade. Shade’s mother hadn’t given much information about his dad except that he was a carpenter and they had never had a good marriage. He had died in a car crash when Shade was not even a year old. Placing the picture on the window seal, Shade thought about his mom now, driving to the airport. Deep inside Shade had to hope that she made it safely, but she had always been so harsh and impatient. If Shade wasn’t completely obedient she went to extreme measures immediately. Shade sighed over the picture of a family so separated by death, anger, and fear.
Turning, Shade switched off the light, went down the long hall and then down the staircase.




Scene 3

The inviting scent of food led Shade into the kitchen. Uncle Cren was searching about for a couple of bowls. Shade stood in the doorway hesitantly. Uncle Cren looked up. “Well, you can come on in and wash your hands.” Shade went over to the faucet and let the warm water roll over his hands. But it did not sooth the nervousness he felt. After applying soap, he put his hands under the faucet a second time. Then he dried them carefully.
He looked over to see his uncle already sitting at the table. “Come sit down,” Uncle Cren told him. The chair screeched against the floor as Shade slid it out and sat down. Shade and his uncle stared across the table at each other like two speechless interrogators. At last Shade gave up and dipped a spoon into the bowl already set out before him.
“So tell me about yourself,” Uncle Cren said, finally breaking the silence, as he shoved a spoonful of stew in his mouth.
“I like to play football. I like to make things and repair things,” responded Shade, looking straight into his uncle’s eyes.
But Uncle Cren’s eyes were everywhere but on Shade. They danced around the room, changing reflection like a disco ball. “Interesting.” Uncle Cren nodded and put another spoonful of stew in his mouth. “If you didn’t know, I am a scientist. I have a lab down in the basement. I make medicines.”
“That’s cool.”
“I have had numerous successes. In order to do this I have tried many formulas on myself. There is a new formula I have created which I suspect will be completely successful. If it is, it could do wonders for mankind. Someone could be healed with one injection. It would stay in their bloodstream for life. It would change many people’s lives for the better. What do you think about that?”
“What is it a cure for?”
“I cannot reveal too much information about it now. I haven’t had the chance to test it on anyone yet. It took me a long time to form and I think it would be a waste to test it on myself. I have injected myself with so many other things that I wouldn’t be able to tell how it is affecting me. I have too many other medicines in my bloodstream.
“However, I think you would be perfect to test it on, Shade. What do you think?”
“I’m not sick; I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to help you either.” Shade’s heart pounded heavier with each breath and each word.
A strange new light came across Uncle Cren’s face now. “How do you know you are not sick? Maybe you just do not know what it feels like to be well.” Under his smooth words a volcano seemed to suddenly erupt. The lava crashed down the mountain and teased every nerve in Shade’s body.
Shade jumped to his feet with a start, his chair screeching wildly. “No,” he said firmly “I can’t do that. You must be crazy.” Shade’s eyes were blazing now, sharp and blue. But he was met with silence and a mocking gaze from his uncle. Shade was unsure of what to do next. His heart raced. At last he turned and started walking out of the room, but his head began spinning. He reached out to the counter, but to no avail; everything went black.




Scene 4

Shade woke up in a frenzy of panic. His right arm and hand were throbbing with pain. The past few hours seemed like a blur. The room was mostly dark, but a candle was casting shadows all over the walls of the large room. Shade could tell the room was crowded with objects, but it was too dark to make them out. “Augh!” he heard himself moan. He looked down at his wrist which seemed to be the source of all of the pain. It was punctured and scarred. Looking around the room helplessly, he groaned and breathed heavily. The pain seemed to pin him down on the bed he was lying on like a hammer drives a nail into the wood.
Shade heard footsteps and tried to lift up his head. The footsteps came closer until a large figure was standing directly above him. Shade kept laboring to breathe. The figure’s features stood out to him- the long grey beard, the heavy eyebrows, the magnificent grey eyes- and Shade began remembering everything.
“I see you are awake,” said the man over him, in a laid back tone.
“W-where am I? What did you do to me?” Shade stammered under his teeth in some kind of effort against the agony.
“Nothing you won’t be grateful for in time. You act like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“What did you do to me?”
“It sounds as if you want answers straight up. Alright then; I injected you with K2Q5X3. How do you feel?”
“I feel… like I’m dying.”
“Really? I applied a specially made medication afterward to ease the pain. Perhaps it responded negatively. Maybe a pain reliever would help.”
Shade watched his uncle walk into the shadows and emerge again with a glass of water and a small white pill. “You’re going to have to open your mouth, Shade,” Uncle Cren said calmly. Shade felt like he was tearing apart his jaws to open his mouth against the pain. He accepted the white tablet into his mouth and helped it down with the water Uncle Cren put to his lips. In only a moment relief came and boldly swept across Shade’s arm like an army against their enemies. It was all gone at once. The tenseness left. Shade’s jaws became loose again. He released his grip on the bed and breathed deeply.
Uncle Cren was sitting down beside the bed now, writing busily in a notebook. Anger swelled up inside of Shade against the man sitting there. But Uncle Cren spoke smooth and gently as though he had done nothing wrong. “You need to understand how serious all of this is. Pay close attention to the way you feel. I need to know everything that is going on. We will have to keep applying the medication to the wound… And there is one more thing, you can’t tell anyone about this.” Uncle Cren looked directly into Shade’s eyes for the first time. “All of this is for your safety.”
Shade shuddered under the thoughts and overwhelming feelings. If Uncle Cren actually cared about Shade, why would he have made him the guinea pig of this strange formula in the first place? It must have been the same formula Uncle Cren had spoken of at the dinner table. Shade had so many questions now, but not enough time to sort them all out. “What did you do to me?” he repeated.
“It isn’t safe to uncover that yet. Trust me, this is a good thing.” Uncle Cren helped Shade up and led him out of what Shade discovered was the basement. Uncle Cren brought him to his room. Shade rested against his bed and just breathed. I wish this were a dream he thought and I were just at home and life was all as it should be.




Scene 5

In the midst of darkness, he laid sighing and moaning under the weight of his emotions. The bed underneath him felt strange. It was nicer than his bed at home, but so unfamiliar. It did not comfort him. It was darker in this room than he was used to at night. City lights and noises did not stream in through the window. The silence and stillness of the country seemed to mock his heavy heart.
The thoughts rambling about in his head were new and terrifying. He felt so lonely deep inside. What is going to happen to me? What is my uncle really trying to do? Why will he not tell me? Am I going to die? Would anyone really care if I did? Questions pounded him like bricks. They were too much for him. The emptiness, the insecurity, and the restlessness all thudded down on him like stones. He could do nothing. And the night seemed like it would go on forever that way.
But suddenly Shade was overwhelmed with heat. He ripped the sheets off. It did not seem to help. He felt sweat running down his forehead. It was streaming down his chest. What is going on inside of me? He panicked as his mind went in circles. What should I do? He only felt warmer and warmer. Shade rolled over onto the floor, fighting the sheets to let him go completely. But the floor wasn’t cold enough to cool him off either. He grasped nervously for breath. If this gets any worse, I think I’ll die. I know I’m going to die.
Then it happened. He started shaking wildly and found himself in a state of half consciousness. It was the closest he got to sleep that night, but it didn’t feel like sleep at all.
He fell into a dream in which he was walking down the sidewalk, coming home from school. His backpack weighed him down, but he pressed on believing there was some hope ahead. It took all his strength to climb the stairs to get to his apartment. The door was locked and he did not have a key. He waited. Suddenly the door flew open and his mom stood before him. She was angry. “What happened to you?” she screamed. “What have you done?” Shade tried to speak up for himself and tell her that whatever it was, it was not his fault. But no words would come out of his mouth. She pulled him inside, still screaming, but Shade could not understand her words. She started hitting him and beating him. A cry arose in his chest, but for the longest time he could not get it out. Then…
“Mom, Stop!” Shade shouted and woke up instantly. He found himself in a frenzy of panic, lying on the floor, still shaking a little. His whole body was soaked and the floor was drenched in sweat and tears. The shaking faded and Shade finally made an attempt to collect his thoughts.
I don’t know what’s happening. I wish I could just know something for sure. I wish I could just… I wish I could just not be so alone in all of this. Shade wiped his forehead and sat up against the bed. I hate Uncle Cren. I can’t just stay here and let this mad scientist treat me this way. I’m afraid. There is no telling what he will do to me. How can I take two months of this? But I really don’t have anywhere else to go… He does know a lot more about what is happening to me than I do. Even though he is the one who did all of this to me, he is also the only one who can help me. I must be pretty safe with him; he doesn’t want me to die because he wants to learn about his new formula. Besides, what would he tell my mom if he kills me? Yes, I must be pretty safe with him, alive at least.
So, this is my only choice- I have to stay here, do what he says, and just bear through the pain a while longer.




Scene 6

At the top of the stairs, Shade tied his tennis shoes. He had told his uncle about the episode he had experienced the night before with the extreme heat and shaking, but left out the awkward dream. Uncle Cren had responded with disappointment and frustration. He had laid out a few rules and chores (very few since he did not pay attention to the degrading state of his house and yard). But having been given something to do (making breakfast and doing the breakfast dishes each day) reassured Shade that Uncle Cren thought that he would live.
Since Shade felt very normal now, he went down the stairs to the front door to run. He had decided that if he waited to see exactly how this formula affected his body he might wait all summer and he would not be in good enough shape to get on the football team. He breathed in the fresh air of midday. All of the summer’s heat had not come yet and there was a steady wind and plenty of shade from the trees to fight off the warmth. He laid his glasses down on the one dirty, broken table on the front porch. Everything became blurry, but it was a beautiful kind of blurriness, like a painting.
He ran slowly at first… What was the formula meant to do? He wondered, remembering his uncle’s words “How do you know you are not sick? Maybe you just do not know what it feels like to be well.” Shade remembered that before he got glasses he hadn’t realized how bad his vision had been, but then when he looked through the glasses everything looked so clear and perfect. Shade had a thought that made him shudder. What if I do have a problem or a defect that no one has ever told me about? No! That is foolishness. Surely I am just like everybody else. Then all of the mean things that people had ever said and done to him came abruptly into his mind like dust from the dirt road was flying up into his face. All of the memories were suddenly staring him in the eyes- memories of bullies punching and kicking him and shouting names that kids their age were not even supposed to know, memories of his failed attempts to fight and curse back enough to make them go away, memories of his mom hitting him and screaming at him through the years after a bad day at her job.
Shade quickened his pace… I am strange; I am different. Everyone really has always told me that. I just couldn’t believe them completely. They are right; I’m too small, too persistent, too shy, too self-conscious… The thoughts blazed on and on like a fire in his mind and he hoped it would somehow make things better. But instead it destructed. I mean, what other kid my age gets beat up by their mom? What other mom treats their fourteen-year-old like an eight-year-old. Maybe I am stupid. Maybe I’m not normal at all.
Shade had run about a mile now and his uncle’s long driveway was not too far off. His side was aching, but he had been too absorbed in his thoughts to notice or care.
Then suddenly he felt abnormally hot. It reminded him of the night before. He couldn’t go any further. He stopped immediately and got on the grass beside the road. Sweat poured down him. He took off his shirt, shoes, and socks with all of the energy he had left. Then he laid down on the ground, breathing heavily. Soon the shaking came again, but Shade was completely conscious. It went on and on. Shade didn’t think he would be able to bear the heat, but somehow he did. At last the fit died and Shade gasped for breath again. Perhaps it had only gone on for ten minutes, but it had felt like an hour. Shade lay in a pool of sweat beside the road.
“Are you okay?” a voice shouted, startling Shade. He sat up out of instinct.
“Yes. I’m fine.” Shade’s eyes met a tall boy who was approaching him. He couldn’t make out the figure well since he didn’t have his glasses on.
“Let me get you some water,” said the boy and he was gone up the driveway.
Shade shook his head. Great. He probably saw that whole episode. What am I going to do?
Soon the boy came back with a bottle of water that he offered to Shade. Shade took it and drank some. “Thank you.” He looked up at the boy who was now sitting down on the grass near him. The boy was well built, but Shade could hardly concentrate on anything aside from how kind he was acting. “What’s your name?” the boy asked.
“Shade.”
“I’m Jonathan… Are you sure you’re okay? You looked bad…”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
“Okay… How old are you?”
“Fourteen. How old are you?”
“I’m fifteen. So, I guess you’re going to into ninth grade?”
“Yes.” Shade looked down at his bare chest and then up again. It seemed so strange to actually be talking to someone who seemed to care about Shade. He didn’t even know him. Shade looked up at the mansion behind him. It was hard to make out with such bad vision, but Shade could tell it was huge. “Do you live there?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Where do you live?”
“I’m living with my uncle for the summer in the next house down.” Because the yards were so large, it seemed far away now.
“Are you from around here?”
“No. I live in Memphis, Tennessee.”
“Oh, yeah, I know where that is. There is a really big church there… Do you like Memphis?”
“Not really.”
“Then do you like it here?”
“Well, no… I mean, I don’t know. I just got here yesterday.” Shade paused and went on without thinking. “My mom dropped me off on the way to some long business trip.” Jonathan nodded his head, but Shade could tell he wanted to hear more, so he went on with his voice trailing off. “Yeah and the only person she could find who would take me was my uncle, even though they haven’t ever been on good terms and he lives way out here, because nobody in Memphis really cares about me and I don’t have a dad.” Jonathan was still listening intently. “I’m sorry,” Shade said at last. “I really shouldn’t have said all of that.”
“No. It’s okay, really.”
“Uh… I probably need to go.”
“Okay… You know, there’s a pretty cool stream behind our house. Do you want to go fishing sometime?”
“I really don’t know how to fish.”
“I could teach you. We could meet at my house tomorrow.”
Shade looked the stranger in the face. There truly wasn’t anything Shade wanted more than to have a friend. “Okay.”
“How is one o’clock?”
“Sure.” Shade stood up with his shoes and shirt. “Thank you.” He turned around and headed toward Uncle Cren’s house. His head was pounding. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. That guy really cares about me, he thought as he went up his uncle’s long driveway.




Scene 7

Shade winced against the searing pain. Uncle Cren had just applied the medication to the injected wound on Shade’s wrist. The sting penetrated deep. Tears fled to Shade’s eyes.
“Does it hurt again?” questioned Uncle Cren.
“Yya…” Shade couldn’t get much farther with an answer. Uncle Cren took out a small white tablet and gave it to Shade. Once Shade had swallowed it the pain left almost instantly.
“The experiment seems to be going all wrong so far,” Uncle Cren sighed. “But only time will tell.”
“Will you please tell me what this experiment is all about?” asked Shade, his speech like a window to the anger boiling inside of him.
“Well I didn’t want to get your hopes up too soon, but because of your undying persistence, I may.” Uncle Cren stood up and walked across the room. “I created this formula to make humans strong- that is what everyone seems to want. I wanted to create something which would make them stronger than any weight lifting or steroids could ever do. What can I say, it worked with rats- well, while they lived (they died soon after). I have always thought that we as humans are rather weak. Only time will tell, but I think the formula could use some work.”
Shade stood up. He was relieved from one burden while another was heaped readily on him. “So you made this formula not to fix people, but to improve them?”
“You could look at it that way. It’s all the same to me.”
“Then what is going to happen to me?”
“We have to wait and see.” The anger raged inside of Shade, but it was like a murder on a deserted island (no one knew or cared). Shade turned away in silence. Anger always made him want to be alone. He left for his own room and his own uninviting bed.




Scene 8
Shade walked up the long driveway, petting his clothes nervously. He wore his usual garb of shorts, a polo shirt, and tennis shoes. Now that he had his glasses on and the sun was shining brightly, he could see the neighbor’s yard and house well. It really was enormous. The yard was perfectly mowed and had no weeds. The gardens were lined meticulously with bright flowers and freshly trimmed bushes. The house was indescribably beautiful, contrasting greatly with the house next door. Feelings of nervousness went up Shade’s spine as he walked up the many steps to the porch and neared the door. I can’t understand why this guy would even want to be around me. Maybe it was all a dream I had in the seizure. But Shade pressed his finger against the doorbell and backed away from it.
Soon it opened. Jonathan stood there, holding a couple of fishing rods. “Hey, Shade, how are you?” he questioned as he made his way out of the door.
Shade was so overwhelmed that he almost forgot to speak. “Uh… I’m okay.”
“Here you go.” Jonathan handed Shade a fishing rod and led the way down the steps. “So are you starting to like living with your uncle yet?”
“Well, it’s kind of, I don’t know… boring.” “Boring” was not really the right word, but it sounded better than “terrifying” or “painful”.
“Do you have any siblings?”
“No. Do you?”
“Yeah; I have two older brothers and a younger sister.”
“Who all lives at your house?”
“My brothers are here for the summer. My parents, my sister, our maid, and our cook live here, too.”
Shade stopped in his tracks.
“What?” Jonathan questioned.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
There was a strange silence as Shade looked up at Jonathan. “You have a maid and a cook?”
Jonathan laughed. “Yeah, what’s the big deal?”
“Man, let’s be serious. I don’t think you understand. I live in a two bedroom apartment at home. I clean it myself and I make all of the meals. I go to a public school and I’m the biggest dork there…”
“So?”
“So, why do you act like you want to be my friend?”
“Shade, I’m not any better than you. None of that stuff really matters.” He paused and looked into Shade’s blue fiery eyes as if he were really thinking about what he should say next. “Before God we are all equal and messed up, but He loves us anyway.”
“I guess that’s true,” Shade said, looking down at the grass, “but you aren’t God.”
“Yeah, but I know Him. He looked beyond all of the things I have done wrong and also all of the things about me that I can’t help. He is perfect, but He loved me right where I was. I should love other people the same way.”
Shade nodded his head. “Wow.”
They started walking again. “No matter what you think of yourself, God made you and allowed you to be where you are right now. He cares about you.” Shade thought about himself lying, shaking, unconscious on the kitchen floor earlier that day. If what Jonathan was saying was true, had God allowed Him to be in that situation? Had God allowed every part of Shade’s life to come into play? Did God really care?
In the heat of the afternoon the two boys cast out lines into a seemingly empty stream. There were few bites and no catches and the talking went on above the water.
“So, do you play football?” Shade asked at last.
“Yeah, I love football.”
“I do too. I’m just afraid I won’t get on the team this year. I will be this little freshman among all of those gigantic juniors and seniors…”
“Come on, Shade… You don’t have much confidence, do you?”
“I really don’t have anything to be confident about.”
“That’s just what people say… Do you want to practice football together sometime?”
“Sure.” Shade looked down at his watch. “Oh, I need to go… Thanks.”
“Yeah, it’s been good. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.” Shade turned toward his uncle’s house and made his way back. Jonathan has a really strange view on life, Shade thought. If he is right then there really is hope for me.




Scene 9

Shade lifted the weights above his head over and over again as he reflected on his talk with his uncle. Uncle Cren had asked him “Where have you been today?”
“I was hanging out with Jonathan,” Shade had responded, “One of your next door neighbors.”
There had been a long pause over the dinner table. At last Uncle Cren had spoken carefully. “I would advise that you not mix in with my neighbors, the Haverts. They are rather strange people- Christians, they say. I have discovered that with Christians, if you let them, they will `cram their beliefs down your throat’. Trust me; I almost gave into that in my younger days.”
Lifting the weights up again, Shade thought about his uncle. Who is Uncle Cren to call someone else strange? Isn’t he the same man that spends all of his time in the basement, mixing formulas? Isn’t he the same man that writes all of his number in base twelve? Wasn’t he the same man who had injected his own nephew with a powerful and harmful medicine, by force?
But Shade had not been thinking these thoughts when he had talked to his uncle earlier. “What do Christians believe?” he had questioned.
“Do you not know?” answered Uncle Cren. “They reject the laws of science and turn to a book written thousands of years ago for their main direction and guide. It is a rather irrational way to live, if you ask me… I can’t believe I almost fell for it once.”
“So this book, the Bible I think you mean, rejects science?”
“Of course; how could people know as much about science two thousand years ago as we do now?”
“Well… What does the Bible say?”
“It says something about God (which an all-knowing, eternal being is a ridiculous idea in and of itself) creating the world, and not just that but also the universe and beyond, in the course of a week. But I don’t know much else about it. I haven’t devoted myself to study such foolish writings.”
Shade had decided to stop asking questions as his uncle had begun to seem a little passionate and irritated. Yet Uncle Cren had ended the conversation. “You can make your own choice, but if you associated with Christians you will very likely become one of them. In my opinion, Christianity is something for the weakest of people, who are too afraid to face up to the facts. Believing those things only makes a person weaker.”
Shade brought the weights down and lifted them up again. When Jonathan had come over the day after Shade’s discussion with his uncle, Shade had told him that he could not practice football with him and said that his uncle had told him that he would not be able to. Shade had felt especially bad since it was not the full truth, but he had supposed it was for a greater good. He was having second thoughts now as he brought the weights down again. Jonathan is the only person who has ever been so kind to me and I turned down his offer of friendship. Isn’t his Christianity something I want to believe anyway? If there is not a God in heaven who thinks I am worth something than no one does. If He is not real I might as well not be here. I can’t believe I turned Jonathan away. He really cares about me because of what he believes about God. I’m so stupid. I’m sure it is all too late now. I didn’t deserve a first chance. Surely he won’t give me a second one.



Scene 10

The world below was at his feet. It was present, but almost unreal. He was much greater, taller, and stronger than any of it. In fact, it seemed like a different person standing so high- so confident, mighty, happy, and not alone at all. There stood before him the sun. It was beautiful. It shined as bright as ever, illuminating the darkness around him. Yet he enjoyed it and loved it. There were still those who hated the sun, way down in the world below, but not here. It was wonderful here. He looked directly at it (it did not hurt his unprotected eyes) as if he could not live apart from it. When he looked down at his chest the same light was burning in his chest. It was burning in his arms, his legs, and his whole body. Instead of harming him, it made him strong. Indeed, it seemed that this sun had brought him up from that small, unimportant world at his feet. And he stood there, enjoying the sun. He had no fears, regrets, or hatred.
Shade woke up suddenly, shaking on a floor soaked in sweat. He didn’t remember a seizure starting. He didn’t remember getting on the floor. He was not sure whether he was shaking from the seizure that had passed or the intensity of the dream. Perhaps it was both. He got up slowly, grabbed for his glasses, and looked out of the window towards the sun of the new day. But he could not look directly at it. The warmth from the sun fell through the window on his already heated body. He turned away.




Scene 11

Shade came in the door one sunny afternoon after running. His heart had suddenly been filled with hope and excitement. He had been at his uncle’s house for a little over a month now, having a couple seizures each day, and having medication applied to his wrist each day. His step became slower (like a person slows their step as they walk up to a mad dog) when he descended the stairs of the basement. He hated that basement. It was dark, gloomy, and bore bad memories. Chills went up his spine as he stopped at the bottom step.
“Yes?” said a preoccupied uncle from the corner of the room.
“I am going to church with Jonathan tomorrow.”
“I warned you,” Uncle Cren stated without turning around. “I just don’t want to hear a word about his church or his God or his beliefs. I told you what the truth of the matter is, but I will not stop you. At least do not try to pull me down with you.” Uncle Cren’s tone remained even to the last syllable.
“Yes sir,” responded Shade. He was about to go back up the stairs when the phone rang.
Uncle Cren answered it. “Hello? Yes… here he is…” Uncle Cren handed the phone to Shade. “It’s your mom.”
Shade grabbed the grimy phone like an eager little boy. “Mom?”
“Hey, Shade. How are you?”
“I’m alright. How is Europe?”
“Well, we’re staying pretty busy. I haven’t gotten to do much shopping or anything. It’s been good to get away from life, though. I just thought I should check up on you. Are you and your uncle getting along well?”
“Pretty well.”
“And you have been good?”
“Yes ma’am.” Shade sighed.
“Oh- I have to get to a meeting. I’ll call you again soon.”
“Okay.”
“Good-bye.” Shade’s mom hung up and he held the grimy phone to his ear a minute longer. It is strange to love someone so much and yet hate them so much all at the same time. It is like a dog loving a cruel master. At last he placed the phone back in its place at the bottom of the stairs. His uncle had gone back to his work. Shade surveyed that gloomy room once more, dropped his head, and went up the stairs.




Scene 12

Shade looked around the small room at the other youth and the teacher. There were about ten youth in the circle including Shade, Jonathan, and Jonathan’s younger sister, Elizabeth, who was going into ninth grade like Shade. Everyone had a Bible in their lap. They seemed to feast over it like a thousand ants clamoring over a hamburger. They were reading from the beginning of the Bible and talking about the same thing that Uncle Cren had told Shade that Christians believe in- creation.
“‘In the beginning, when God created the universe, the earth was formless and desolate. The raging ocean that covered everything was engulfed in total darkness, and the power of God was moving over the water. Then God commanded “Let there be light”- and light appeared.’” read the teacher. “Creation is a foundational part of the Bible. So many people do not want to accept that God created everything and not just that but that He did it in six days without any evolution involved. Yet they do like what the Bible says about God and His love. But if you cannot totally trust that what God did at the beginning of time was real than you cannot totally trust God to do anything.” He held his Bible up. “You either have to believe it completely or not at all. This is all God’s Word. So, someone name some things that can keep people from believing in the Bible.”
“Fear,” said one girl.
“Fear of what?”
“Fear of being let down like everything else in life let’s you down.”
“That’s good,” the teacher said, writing the word down on a board. “Anyone else?”
“One thing that I think keeps a person from trusting in the Bible is that they don’t want to have to give up anything,” put in another girl.
“Sometimes it is hard to believe that God will actually accept you,” Jonathan said.
“I guess that would be called insecurity?” said the teacher.
“Well,” another boy said, “It can be hard for people to believe in creation because God was the only one there. There were no other witnesses. I guess that would be doubts.”
Shade opened his mouth. It was out of his character to speak in a group of people he did not know. But the words started coming. Perhaps they had just set in his mind for too long, like bleach can tear holes through a shirt if it sits long enough. “Why should we believe in the Bible?”
No one seemed to breathe. Perhaps everyone was expecting the teacher to answer, but it was not he who filled that desperate silence. “You know, Shade,” Jonathan began, “I believe in the Bible because everything else depends on it. There is so much evidence to back it up. It has never been proved wrong. There are so many prophesies in it. None of them have failed. God has made so many promises in the Bible and even in my own life I have found Him 100 percent faithful. If I didn’t believe in the Bible I would have no hope in my life. I would be afraid of death. I wouldn’t have any joy or peace. I’ve got those things and I’m not afraid to die. That’s what God and His Word have done to me. I have no reason not to believe.”
Shade nodded. “That makes sense.” The Sunday School Class, as it was called, went on. Everything seemed to be aimed right at Shade, whether anyone knew it or not. He felt a growing desire to have what these people had. He seemed to be starving while they were feasting.




Scene 13

After eating that night, Shade sat at the table with the medication soaking into his wrist. Recently it had stopped hurting and instead it felt soothing. “I think I am getting addicted to this stuff,” Shade told his uncle, who was sitting across the table, soaking in a world of fiery thoughts.
“You see,” his uncle said nodding, “many people go through life surviving as well as they can, living according to rules and ideas other people have discovered in the past. Then there are people like me, who step out of their comfort zone, out of the tight boxes of old discoveries, and find out new things to greater better humanity. I believe that we are here to improve our race, no matter the personal cost.”
Shade thought about that for several moments and finally browsed a question “Who do you think put us here?”
A strange fire seized Uncle Cren’s eyes and turned to melt Shade’s courage. Shade looked away with all that was left as the coldness of his fear. Uncle Cren responded gruffly. “I told you that I do not want to hear about that. Do you understand me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You know, you cannot ride the fence for long. You have to make your own decision.” Shade looked up and tried to grasp his uncle’s meaning. “If you don’t get off the fence, you will fall down the other side.” Shade assumed his uncle was referring to Jonathan’s influence. If Uncle Cren really doesn’t want me to be with him, why does he not tell me to stay away from him? Uncle Cren went on. “People cannot always make decisions for you, because then you will break out of that tight box we have all put you in and it could hurt a lot of people. No, you have this decision to make and then it is you who must suffer the consequences.”




Scene 14
Shade had an unsettling feeling as he went up the long driveway that day. True, he had been up it several times and rang the doorbell, but this time was different. He had stepped in Jonathan’s house briefly before, but this time he intended to spend the night. It was a scary thought. What if Jonathan’s family doesn’t like me when they see what I am like? I will do my best, but I cannot completely mask who I am. He rang the doorbell and stepped back. It was opened soon by the maid. “Hello! Come on in, Shade,” she ushered. Shade stopped on the rug and gazed around at the overwhelming house. Though he tried, he could not take it in all at once. The entry hall had several hallways branching from it, along with the living room and a magnificent stairway. Beautiful pictures accented every wall. The maid went up the stairs and Jonathan came down. “Hey,” Jonathan greeted in his usual relaxed tone. “How are you?” “Alright. How are you?” “Good. I’ve been cleaning my room pretty much all day. I haven’t cleaned it in a long time.” "I never clean my room... but it's never really dirty." Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, that's just the way you are, isn't it? Let's go put your stuff in my room. Dinner will be ready soon." They made their way up the stairway and into the large bedroom which did not look so clean to Shade. He set his back pack down on the floor. Glancing around the room he laid his eyes on the Bible by the night table and could not keep his eyes off of it. Jonathan lay across his bed. Shade sat in a chair, his eyes still fixed on the book. "I'm sick of this," Shade said at last. "Sick of what?" responded Jonathan, his eyes on the ceiling. "You are the person that I wish I was. Spiritually, you have everything. You say it comes from God- your peace, joy, and security. I wish that would happen to me, but I cannot seem to get from point nothing to point A. Maybe it is because I am not as good as you, but I cannot seem to change. I don't know how to get right with God. Or maybe I know how, but I just can't. I can't be as good as you. You keep telling me there is hope for me, but you have to be wrong about that. I can't do it." Jonathan was sitting up by now, listening intently. "Whoa, Shade, have I lost you somewhere? I'm not any better than you. If you are just trying to be good enough for God to accept you, you might as well just give up. I agree, you can't do it." "Then what is the point of everything that you have told me? What is the point of all of this talk about God and His love? It does not mean anything for me since I have failed so miserably that I can't even reach Him." Jonathan nodded. "That's where the most important factor comes in, that everybody seems to miss." A bell rang downstairs. "I'm sorry. I guess we'll have to talk about it after dinner." "Alright." Shade was overwhelmed with the friction and wonder of the spiritual discussion now and he could think of nothing else. Nothing else seemed to matter at the moment. He was like a baby dropping his toys when the milk bottle was brought into the room.




Scene 15
Shade glanced around the table at the six other faces that lined it. Most of them were relaxed, but one seemed rather tense, like Shade felt. Shade sat back as the food was brought in. Everyone started joining hands. "We hold hands when we pray before meals," Jonathan whispered to Shade. "It's just one of those weird things we do." Shade nodded and joined hands with Jonathan on the left and his brother, Samuel, on the right. Jonathan's father, Mr. Havert, began to pray. It was a surprisingly relaxed and honest sounding prayer. It was evident that this God that the Haverts loved was not some far off God that they had to struggle and beg with just to keep Him from cursing them. He was near to them, like a best friend. Then the prayer was over. Everyone looked up and began to eat. A conversation arose about Mr. Havert's work as a doctor. Then the conversation switched to Samuel's summer job and several other subjects branched off from there. Though someone would turn to clue Shade in on occasion, he was beginning to gain the hope that the conversation would not turn to him. That was a false hope though. "So, you two have been practicing football together?" Mr. Havert asked Jonathan and Shade, after a pause in the talking. "Yeah, a little," responded Jonathan. "Shade's really good." "How old are you, Shade?" questioned Mrs. Havert, as thought she had heard before, but couldn't quite remember. "Fourteen," responded Shade. Mrs. Havert glanced over at her daughter, Elizabeth. Shade looked over at Elizabeth, but turned away when he saw her cheeks had turned red like two ripe apples. It hit him deep inside like apples falling in a pond and resounded across the table. Everyone seemed to be feeling completely awkward in an instant. Mrs. Havert realized, at last, the mistake she had made. Everyone begged with their silence for a change of subject. "When I opened the front door this morning I saw the huggest toad ever!" exclaimed David, Jonathan's other brother. "It must have been half a foot long." "Oh, come on!" Jonathan said. "I've seen bigger frogs than that at the zoo." "No, this was a toad." "It's the same thing." "It's completely different. What are they teaching you in high school anyway?" Smiles and a renewed calm spread over the table now. Shade sat back, more at ease than ever.




Scene 16 Shade looked at the can of Mountain Dew on the night stand. "Are you ever going to get to sleep tonight?" he said, tossing down a few pillows. "Yeah, I'll be able to sleep in a few hours," responded Jonathan, unmaking the bed. "Okay, by the time you leave this fall I am going to get you to drink Mountain Dew." "No, you could never force one of those down my throat," smiled Shade. "Well, what about a can of Sprite or something?" "No way." "Aren't you ever going to try anything new?" "Not like that. Carbonated drinks are gross. You might as well give it up." "Come on. Can't I be the guy who got Shade Caemon to drink a soft drink?" Shade sat down on the floor and petted the carpet. His mind was far from the present conversation. He assumed Jonathan's was also. "You know, you and your family are different from anyone I have ever known. I don't think it has to do with money or anything like that either. How does it work? How do you have that relationship with God if you are not able to earn it by the good things you do?" "Well, you know, it's because of God's justice that no one can get to heaven or have a relationship with Him, due to the good things they do. No one is good enough. Instead, He has to punish our sin. But because of God's love He wants us to be with Him in Heaven and He wants to be our Friend. Because of this, He made the way for us through Jesus Christ. Do you know who Jesus is, Shade?" "Um... He was a teacher and a prophet. He healed people. He died on a cross. But you believe He was God, don't you?" "Yeah, He is completely God and completely man. I don't understand it, but that's what the Bible teaches. He is perfect. And you're right. He did die on a cross. He was murdered. Do you know why?" "No, not really." "He died, not for anything He had done wrong, but for all of our sins. That's the way that God made for us to have a relationship with Him. The punishment that we deserved, He placed on His Son, Jesus Christ. The Bible says 'All of us were like sheep that were lost, each of us going his own way. But the Lord made the punishment fall on Him, the punishment all of us deserved.' He died to forgive us for our sins. After being in the tomb for three days, Jesus was raised back to life by God. See, Jesus has already made the way for your sins to be forgiven. If you really want a relationship with God all you have to do is trust in Jesus. I did that five years ago. My friendship with God started there. The Bible says 'Believe (or trust) in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved.' It also says 'Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.' If you truly put your faith in Jesus, you won't need to worry about whether or not He has saved you. He will. Does all of this make sense?" "Yes, it makes sense." "Do you want to put your trust in Him tonight, Shade?" Shade glanced around. His heart was pounding like he never thought it would at such a time. He wanted to do this, but at the same time, his whole being seemed to rave and struggle with ideas like a cut responds to a healing medication. "Even though it is simple," Jonathan said, seeing the battle inside of his friend, "it may not be easy. When you trust in Jesus you are also surrendering yourself to Him and giving yourself to him. Up to this point, you have been living life in an effort to please yourself, like everyone else. But when you put your trust in Jesus you are also saying 'Be my Lord and Master'. It's a good thing, but it's hard. A lot of people probably won't agree with what you believe either. They'll think you're weird. They might make fun of you or hurt you. This is a commitment and it's good that you don't take it lightly." "I want to do that," Shade said, his heart pounding harder with every word. "I want to put my faith in Jesus." "Okay, I could lead us in a prayer so that you can express what you are doing before God, but why don't you talk to Him yourself? You know how to pray. Talk to Him like you would talk to someone who cares about you. Ask Him to save you, okay?" "Alright..." "You don't have to pray out loud. You can pray silently if you want, just as long as you are talking to God, not to me or to yourself." "Okay... God, I need your help. I've messed up so much, but I believe that you can forgive me because of what Jesus did for me... I don't know what to say... But please, I really want to have a relationship with You and I want to go to heaven when I die. Please save me. Be my Lord and Master..."




Scene 17 It was that time again. The medication was settling into Shade's wrist where a light scar marked the place where he had had the injection. Uncle Cren was reading across the dinner table, now that the meal was over. His grey eyes were looking peaceful at the moment. But to Shade everything seemed different because he was different. He could not hold it in any longer- the peace that filled him now. That day, he had read the whole book of John in the Bible Jonathan had given him. It was interesting, encouraging, and gripping. Shade did not understand a lot of it, but the essentials rang in his heart. It seemed to line up with what Jonathan had told him and what people had said at church. Shade knew he needed to tell his uncle about what he had done the night before, but at the same time, he was afraid. Uncle Cren had told him not to mention anything more about Christianity. But the thoughts raged in Shades mind. Jesus suffered and died so that I could have a relationship with God. I have to do this for Him. Jesus, please give me the strength. "Something has happened to me," Shade heard himself say. "I think it's the greatest thing that has ever happened to me." "What?" responded Uncle Cren, looking up from the book, half mechanically, half curiously. Shade dug for words. "God became my Friend." Uncle Cren sat straight up. His once peaceful eyes had changed in a moment. They now looked like swords ready to kill. He spoke in an irritated tone. "I told you that I did not want to hear about that." The fire of blue in Shade's eyes ignited with fear and urgency. He tried to speak calmly, but his words came out in a blur. "I thought you should know; Jesus is changing me." Uncle Cren stood up. The table squealed. Shade's heart pounded hard against his chest. He could see his uncle's anger. The swords of grey launched out into the fire of blue. "Get up," Uncle Cren said. Shade stood up, his legs wobbly and uncertain beneath him. "Come with me," said his uncle. Shade obeyed, but his uncle was leading him to the most dreaded place in the house. Uncle Cren opened the door at the top of the stairs that went down to the basement. "Go down the staircase," he said firmly. His eyes seemed much louder than his voice. Shade went down, shaking, his mind fighting each step. What is going on? The question circled his mind again and again. "I hate that it has to be this way, but you brought it on yourself," Uncle Cren told him. Shade could not see his unce's eyes anymore. They were lost somewhere between the darkness of the basement and the light coming from the doorway. "Goodnight," Uncle Cren said evenly and shut the door. All was dark. Shade scrambled up the stairs and shook the door handle. It was locked. The light switch was usually safety locked, but Shade tried it anyway. It was to no avail. He listened as Uncle Cren's footsteps became too distant to make out. Shade sank down on the top of the stairs. The blue fire turned to liquid. He heard creaking noises from down below. It is only the natural noises of night he told himself. But that thought only disturbed him more. Why is this happening? Why did he leave me here alone? Then a thought struck him like rain strikes a desert. He was not alone. Things were different now. That was why he was there, after all. Dear God, I'm afraid. I need you right now. I am here for You. I am here with You. Won't You protect me? Won't you comfort me? Shade leaned his head back against the wall, grappling for thoughts of security, and things he had read about in the Bible that day filled his mind. God will take care of me, he thought. Uncle Cren is only trying to scare me. Thank you, Lord, that he did not hurt me. Thank you for being here. It was a long night. The fear never left all together, but neither did the peace that overwhelmed it. A seizure came and made Shade fall down the stairs. But once it had ended he went back up. He couldn't stand it down there. It was dark and open and it bore those bad memories.




Scene 18 The light of morning crept through the basement door. Shade could not remember whether or not he had slept at all that night, but perhaps the worries of darkness were past. It was a new day. He was tired now, but, in a way, he felt renewed and stronger. Thank you for getting me through last night he told God. Fear of darkness seems like such a silly thing in the morning, when everything that was caught up in the dark and not able to be made out is revealed and shown to be the thing it truly is and always was. The door started making sounds. Shade stepped back as it creaked open. Uncle Cren stood there. He looked like such a mess. His hair was tangled and his eyes were underlined with large rings. It appeared he had not slept well that night either. Shade tried to speak. "I-" "Don't talk to me," Uncle Cren sighed. "Just get out." His eyes were like rain clouds this morning- like dutiful, somber rain clouds. Shade stepped through the door. His uncle went in and slammed the door abruptly behind him. Shade wandered into the kitchen in an effort to fix breakfast. He stumbled upon some eggs and bread and made the breakfast from there. He was not hungry. Uncle Cren might not be hungry either, but Shade continued on out of routine.

Scene 19
The afternoon heat was not too much for Shade. The steps of the front porch were his new domain. It was too painful to be inside the house. Shade had gone running and now he sat, reading the book of Acts in the Bible. What a long, lingering day it had been! Uncle Cren only talked to Shade when it was absolutely essential and would not let Shade talk to him at all. Have I done something wrong? Shade had been asking himself all day. Why does he make such a big deal of Christianity if he does not even believe in it? Deep down, does he know the truth and just not want to admit it? Shade had thought of the day in Sunday School when the class was discussing reasons that people do not believe: fear, greed, insecurity, doubts... But in reality, in the short time that Shade had known Jesus personally, these were some of the things that seemed to begin leaving his life and being replaced with trust, generosity, confidence in Jesus, and belief. If only Uncle Cren could understand. As Shade sat on the steps now, he saw that Jonathan was coming up the rocky driveway. Shade closed the book in his lap as Jonathan neared him. "Hello," Shade greeted. "Hey, what's up?" "I was just reading the Bible." "Really, in John?" "No, I finished John, so I went on to the next book." "Wow!" Jonathan laughed. He sat down beside Shade. "That's awesome. Have you been reading nonstop or something?" "Pretty much." Shade smiled, but it did not last long. His eyes darkened. "Is something wrong?" questioned Jonathan. Shade looked up. It took a few moments for him to gather the strength to answer. "It's just that my uncle had told me not to talk to him about Christianity, but last night I told him that God had become my friend. Since then he has closed off to me. He won't talk to me or let me talk to him." "Will he stay this way very long?" "Probably. He's good about sticking to his decisions." "I hate that for you..." A long silence followed, but Jonathan finally spoke again. "Let me see your Bible." Shade handed it to him and Jonathan thumbed through it. "It says 'And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.' You are one of the people who have been called according to His purpose, Shade. God has a reason for letting you go through this. I'm not trying to mock your distress and tell you it's simple. I know it's not. I'll be praying for you and I'll be here for you. God is going to use this in your life."




Scene 20 As he entered the kitchen that night, Shade slowed his pace. He looked up at his troubled uncle. Every day it just got harder to be around him. Now Shade had been living with him for two months and finally tomorrow morning he would go back home. The change, in a way, seemed so sweet now, dangling over his head. The next moment it would turn with the fullness of its responsibility and hardship. He filled his plate and started out of the kitchen to his room upstairs, as he had lately made his practice. But Uncle Cren stopped him now. "Wait." Shade turned around to meet his uncle's unchanged eyes of turmoil. They were a frightening thing to look at. "Remember to keep applying this everyday, after you leave," Uncle Cren instructed, handing Shade the bottle of medication for the injection. "Contact me if you need anything or if something out of the ordinary happens. Remember, I know more about this than you. I can help you." Shade nodded. "And also," Uncle Cren said firmly, "do not tell anyone about this. Even though you won't be living with me anymore, I will find out if word gets out about this." Uncle Cren turned away, so Shade did also. He went up to his room and put on some music in his CD player in an effort to drown out his thoughts and frustrations. He sat against his bed. Jesus, I'm so sick of this. The only thing that scares me is that home will not be any better. I'm afraid of what they will do to me. I know that You are with me and You can do what I cannot do. I know whatever happens is in Your plan. I know You will work it out for my good, but honestly, from here, all of life looks like a mess of pain. I need You... Can you turn pain into joy? After eating, Shade resorted to carefully taking apart a structure he had been building out of various objects in his room. Suddenly, even over his music, he heard and felt footsteps rushing up the stairs. The door flew open to reveal his infuriated uncle. Uncle Cren turned off the music. Shade had never seen him quite this way. Shade backed away, trembling. Uncle Cren's eyes were flashing and shooting around the room like a machete. He shouted "Do you know why your mom and I have had such a bad relationship all of these years?" He paused, but the only response he received was the echoing of his own voice as it bounced off of every wall. "It was because fourteen years ago she was pregnant and she did not want the baby. Besides that she did not love the man she had gotten pregnant with. She wanted an abortion. But I, valuing life and breath and being amazed with its awesome design, pleaded with her to have the baby. We got into several drawn out fights. Eventually I wore her down and made her feel guilty enough to have the baby. The man she did not love even talked her into marrying him." Shade had erupted in tears. The tale shot at his confidence and left it dying on the ground. And his body was on the ground now, overwhelmed and unable to take in the whole tale at once. "Why are you telling me this?" he sobbed. "Your mom called. She won't be here for another week." Uncle Cren kicked the CD player so that it hit hard against the bed frame. He went out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Shade lay down on the floor and cried. Oh, Jesus, is this stuff just a good idea- this stuff about You having a plan for my life? How could it be right? I think I'm just cursed. I'm just cursed. Surely You didn't choose me. Surely this is all a mistake. I should have died on that day instead of being born. I'm a freak of nature, a mistake. And the sobs went on and on for a kind of time unable to measure. But when Shade got up at last he found his Bible nearby and flipped it open randomly to a page that read "Now remember what you were, my brothers, when God called you. From the human point of view few of you were wise or powerful or of high social standing. God purposely chose what the world considers nonsense in order to shame the wise, and he chose what the world considers weak in order to shame the powerful. He chose what the world looks down and despises and thinks is nothing, in order to destroy what the world thinks is important. This means that no one can boast in God's presence." (1 Corinthians 2:26-29)




Scene 21
And at last the day came. Shade had given his last good-byes to Jonathan; he had packed up everything; he was ready to go home. Finally the doorbell rang. Shade opened it to find his mom standing there, tall, weary, and much like before. She hugged Shade, but he felt certain it had to be a cold, fake kind of embrace. It hurt him more than anything. They might as well have stood at opposite sides of the door, staring at each other like perfect strangers. He knew he should forgive her for her past mistakes and even the things she still clung to, but seeing her here had brought back every bad memory, and made the thought of forgiveness a harder thing than he had ever imagined it would be. It horrified him- the thought that if she had had her way, he would not be alive. What hurt more was that perhaps even now she would prefer him to be dead. "It's good to see you, Shade," she said. The words fell like knives on his ears. They were only a speech to fill the silence. "Well," Uncle Cren said, standing back a little. "Why don't you come into the kitchen and have some lunch or tea or something, Carol?" "Really, I would love to," she replied, looking around at the disgusting house, "but we better get home. Thank you so much for letting Shade stay here all this time." "He was no trouble. It's been good, Shade." Shade looked down at the ground. What are all of these lies for? Are they simply to paint a pretty picture over all of the conflict and grudges? His mom nudged Shade. "Thank you," he told Uncle Cren. Then Shade, with his bags, turned and walked out of the door after his mom. After putting his bags in the car, he sat down at last in the seat. "I'm sorry I had to be gone an extra week," his mom said, starting the car. "I didn't want to. I'm exhausted. I'm so ready to get home." "Me too," responded Shade. He leaned back as the car went down the dusty road. "A lot of things have changed in my life this summer... mostly for the better." "Like what?" "God has become my friend, Mom." She laughed. "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means Jesus has forgiven everything I have done wrong and allowed me to have a relationship with God. It means He is changing me." She only laughed again. "We'll see how long this lasts," she muttered. Shade looked over at her. Dear God, help me to forgive her. Help me to love her more. Help me not to stray from Your will, from Your commands. His mom looked down at Shade's wrist. "What's that?" "Um... I guess I got at Uncle Cren's house. You know, he is always up to something. It's kind of easy to get hurt around there." "Hmm." The highway went on and on until Shade suddenly felt a burst of heat come over him. "Mom, turn into the rest stop! Please! Quick!" "Okay, okay. Calm down." It seemed like an eternity before they were finally able to park. Shade made it to the restroom just in time for the seizure to start. When he came out fifteen minutes later, he went to the car, half afraid of what she might think. "Sorry," he said. "You look like you're burning up, Shade!" his mom exclaimed, turning the air conditioner on higher. They went on.




Scene 22
The blaring of the static shook Shade awake. Oh my gosh, I can't believe school starts today. He hit the alarm clock. When he closed his eyes for a second more it felt so good and they fought him as he pulled them apart. He opened the window to find that it was still dark outside. He turned on his lamp and picked up the Bible. It felt that, in doing these things, he would wake up the dawn. It was dark still as he read the Bible, but his room was all light. After reading he stopped to pray for his mom, Uncle Cren, Jonathan, and himself. He had that tingly feeling of remembering that something new and unknown lay directly ahead of him. He could barely think straight. He had a seizure that morning, which came at the right time- before his shower. In the end he was running way behind. He found a box of granola bars on the counter. He could not be sure where they had come from or how long they had been there. But searching the box and finding no expiration date, he ate one. Then, dashing out the door with his backpack, the uneasiness came tingling upon him again. He hurried down the stairs and the sidewalk to the bus stop. Five kids were already gathered there. Three of them appeared to be freshmen as well. They spoke to each other in hushed tones like men about to be executed. The other two seemed more relaxed. They were playing tic-tac-toe on one another's shoes. Shade whispered "hello" to one of the freshmen who looked in his direction and sat down on the curb. He looked out at the sunrise which was now coming over the trees and apartments. The bus came soon and the teenagers got on. The bus was almost empty now as this was only the first stop. But it got fuller and fuller as it made its rounds and the noise crowded in around Shade. At last the bus reached its destination. Teenagers crowded the middle aisle and climbed down the steps. Shade joined in with curiosity mingled with insecurity heavy on him. He finally reached the steps and gazed out at the high school. He had seen it many times in passing, but it seemed so different now. It stood overwhelmingly huge and he seemed to shrink down to the size of an ant before it. The flag, on its high pole which graced the building, seemed to mock Shade in his weakness. Suddenly he felt a push on his back that made him come back to reality. He looked back at the large boy behind him. "Move!" the boy said. Shade went down onto the concrete to approach the building cautiously. But its doors swallowed him up sooner than he was prepared for and he found himself in a great mess of students. People bumped against him on every side. He could not see over the crowd. Reaching into his pocket, he felt around and found a paper which held his locker number, the numbers to his classrooms, and his assigned seat numbers. He fought his way through the crowd and found the wall where he began the search for his locker. Once he had finally located it and stored his things away he found his homeroom. His assigned seat was number seven, near the front. He sat down and looked around. Abstract paintings filled the walls. Some students were sitting down. Others were mingling around like balls on a pool table- they spread quickly, bounced off the sides and went slowly back to somewhere. Presently, a well-built boy approached Shade. "That's my seat," said the boy. Shade stood up. "Your seat’s back there," the boy told him. Shade went and sat down in the other seat. He sighed like a turtle that is thought to be a stone and has just been stepped on, but only sighed, instead of snapping and showing that it is a turtle. He looked up to see that the well-built boy now had his arm around the girl in the seat next to him. The motive behind his seat changing was obvious. Shade shuddered. At last, when the teacher got up, she said a long series of uneventful words. Then she called the roll and checked the seating. "Shade Caemon! Barret Matthis! We don't have these seating arrangements for nothing! That's not funny. Switch back." Shade got up quickly. Barret, as his name turned out to be, got up slowly, pretending it was no big deal. Shade attempted to stay clear of him as they passed. But Barret bumped into him in a warning kind of way. Shade sat down in the original seat again with the awful feeling that all eyes were on him. The day drug on- class after class and lecture after lecture. He was like an ant still, an ant climbing up a mountain. At length there was a level place, a potential resting time, which came in the form of a lunch break at 12:30. The halls were full again. Shade found his locker, got out his lunch money, and closed the locker door. Out of all of the people that could have walked by at that moment, Barret Matthis was coming toward him. When their eyes met it was an awful, terrifying moment. "Hey, give me your lunch money!" demanded Barret. He acted no different than the bullies in elementary school. Perhaps he thought he could get to Shade that way due to his size and age. Shade tried to hold out this time. "No, I have to have it, man." "I don't care." Barret glanced around- his brown eyes hard and cold. Shade looked about and stood his ground. It happened quickly. Barret slammed Shade against the locker. Shade glanced around again. Some people saw what was happening, but no one did anything. They all passed by to their next class. So Shade, frightened, but still calm and steady, acted on a natural instinct. He caught Barret by surprise and thrust him, somehow, on the ground. The victory did not last long. Barret was up again soon and struggling with Shade. Now a strong, piercing voice was coming toward them. Detention was ahead. In all, the whole day was like a nightmare. But at last it was all over. At last Shade was all alone. He was on the coach at home. His head lay down over his arms. If he had ever felt like anything, he was nothing now. It seemed as if his confidence had been crushed between two rocks. What reason is there to be confident after all? I have really messed up. I feel so corrupted inside. Dear Jesus, I don't care what people say; I know I have done something wrong. Things like this have happened before, but I did not know You before. I have never felt so awful about it. Was it wrong for me to fight? A passage of scripture came into Shade's mind. He looked it up and found it in Luke 6:27-31. It read "But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks and if someone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you." The scripture did not leave much room for arguing. Is that really what you want me to do, Jesus? I guess if it were not, You would not have said so. If it is Your command it must be Your desire. Please forgive me for how I handled everything today. I really took it into my own hands and tried to do it on my own. I need You. I know I cannot do it by myself- I don't have the strength to love despite what people do. I don't have the strength not to fight. I will do this if You will give me the strength. I know You love me. A peace came and overflowed the turmoil and hurt. It had made the whole mess- which was before a large mess of strings, chords, and attachments- turn into something simple and clear. Shade got up and went into the kitchen. There was a note on the counter. It read:
Shade, I have to work late tonight. Please go to the store and buy enough food to last until I get off work tomorrow. Thank you. -Mom
Shade took the note in his hand, crumpled it up, and threw it in the trash can. He put on his tennis shoes, emptied out his backpack, and took it with him out the door.




Scene 23 Shade came through the door, sweaty and panting after a run. "Shade," said a very familiar voice, coming toward him. His mom stood before him now with an angered expression on her face. "Why did you not tell me you got sent to detention three days ago?" "Oh, I should have told you..." His heart throbbed and his mind raced. "A teacher had to give me a ride home and you weren't here, so... I'm sorry." "Why did you get sent to detention?" Why does she only care about me when I do something wrong? Oh, God, I'm sorry. Help me to love her. Help me to take this right. "There was a guy who was trying to take my lunch money. And I got in a fight with him." "Yeah right... you wouldn't fight. Shade, be honest with me. What did you do?" Her tone was rising with each word. "I am being honest. I fought him and then a teacher saw and we both had to go to detention after school. Did the office not tell you that when they called?" "No, Shade. What did you do?" She was almost to the point of yelling now. "I'm telling you the truth." Shade looked down. His heart was pounding wildly now. There was nothing more to do or say. "Come here," his mom said.

Scene 24
Dear Shade, How is life? How is school and everything? I started school today. It was boring- as first days usually are at my high school. At least in public school you get to wear more "everyday clothes" everyday. It will be hard for me to get back into the habit of wearing a tie everyday. But as I sat there today at my Baptist school and the teacher talked about Jesus, I had to think about you and all that you face each day. I had to think about all of the lies and criticism that have been thrown at you for your entire life and how difficult it must be to refute those things in your mind now. How difficult it must be for you to strive to be like Jesus now. I pray for you all of the time. I know you are strong with the strength that Christ has given you. Your friend (and brother in Christ), Jonathan Havert
P.S. I will be excited to hear about the church that you find.

Scene 25
Dear Jonathan, I am afraid that if I had the choice between wearing a tie everyday and going to this school, I would go for the tie in a split second, but I am confident that I am right in the center of God's will here. That is not because I am such a great witness with my words. If I am a witness right now it is through my actions- through my strength that looks more like a weakness. I cannot wait to find the right church. Until then I feel basically alone here. The only people that I know well at all are those who hate me, or just enjoy messing with me. It is very hard. But through these things God is working in my life and changing me. My physical life and my spiritual are so intertwined that I cannot tell the difference between them. I have begun to see people in a whole new light- in the light of God's love that is becoming mine. Football try-outs are coming up soon. That is exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. Oh, and I drank some Sprite today. (It was on accident of course; it really looked like water.) So now all of your prayers for me to drink a carbonated drink have been answered! It tasted really bad. On a more serious note, thank you so much for all of your prayers for me and for your persistence with me. I have never had a better friend aside from Jesus. I want to care about people as much as you do. I only wish to be as good a friend to others as you are to me. Thank you for sharing Jesus with me, and in doing so, showing me what confidence is and what life is all about.
Your brother in Christ, Shade Caemon



Scene 26
There was the radiant sun before his eyes, flowing through his very veins. It gave him strength and courage and joy. His feet were on the ground to be sure, only this time the world was not below him; it was not distant; it was all around him. Here was his school and there was his home and his apartment complex and there was the grocery store and the library and the bank- all darkness. He felt responsibility, not to hide, but to shine. Shade woke up in a frenzy of shaking and heat which was beginning to fade. It was strange that what Uncle Cren had meant to make Shade stronger had really made him weaker. The Christianity that Uncle Cren had said would make Shade weaker had really made incredibly strong. He looked all around him at the tile in the restroom at school. He glanced down at his watch. It was 12:36 pm. His lunch shift had already started. After getting up and splashing his face with water, he made his way out of the door toward the lunch room cautiously. "Hey!" Barret's voice shook Shade, though he had been half expecting it. Shade turned toward the boy who continued on with the orders. "Just give me your money." Shade looked up at him. "I don't have any." Barret laughed. Shade revealed the bag he held. "I brought my lunch today." No amusement or surprise showed on Barret's face. He was like a dirty, decaying wall, painted over with red. And at that moment, Shade felt a piercing feeling like nothing he had experienced before. He thought he saw himself- or himself a few months ago- in the eyes of the large boy before him. They were partially different, but very much the same. Barret snatched the lunch bag from Shade's hand and threw it in the trash. He drug Shade to a quieter, lonelier place nearby. He beat him unmercifully there. But Shade had been given the strange kind of strength which allowed him- not to fight back- but to take the blows, harmful words and searing pain. It was a strength that he had never known before. As for Barret, who was he fighting? Mentally, perhaps it was his family, his friends, or even himself, which he fought. He was not fighting Shade. Only, Shade felt the pain. Barret walked away at last. Shade sat up against the wall- his hand bleeding, his back stinging, his chest throbbing. His thoughts were blurred so that he could not remember why he sat there or what his next class was. But there he sat for a kind of time he could not measure, and he did not speak in words to God, but He was there with him. Footsteps were coming toward him once again. Barret sat down across from Shade. It was shocking, but still Shade remained in his daze. "Why did you let me do that to you?" questioned Barret. Shade looked at him, amused. "What?" "For the past week you have done nothing but take it." Shade starred at Barret. "I know Jesus and that is what He wants me to do. He gives me the strength to take it, so I do." "How did you come to know Jesus?" Barret persisted. Shade proceeded on with his story.
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven." –Matthew 5:14-16