well?”
“My dad was a chef.”
“You’re teasing?”
“Nope. He owned his own restaurant for a while, and then he got hired away to California by a big-time director who hired him to be his personal chef.”
“So that’s how you came to know Oliver? Were he and the director your father works for friends?”
“Sort of.”
“Does your father know that you’re hiding away here?”
“Yes.”
“Does he understand your situation?”
“I don’t know. I think so.” I swam over to the side of the pool, climbed out, threw two rafts into the water, and jumped back in.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
We climbed onto our rafts, she more gracefully than me, and made ourselves comfortable, she on her stomach, me on my back.
“It’s like you said the other day. I’m trying to figure myself out,” I said.
“It will happen. You just have to want it.”
“Want what?”
“The truth.”
“That sounds painful,” I said as I turned onto my stomach and looked over at her. “So tell me what you think. I know you have an opinion.”
“How about a small sermon instead?”
“Oh no.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
She dunked her hands into the water and started to paddle away, but I grabbed the raft and held on so that she stayed within arm’s reach.
“Go on,” I urged.
“You’re certain?”
“Positive.”
“Fine. Do you know what you do if you get bitten by a venomous snake?”
“I’d rather not find out.”
“Come on. Play along.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay. You take an anti-venom?” I guessed.
“What if there isn’t any available?”
“You die?”
“Never mind. I’ll just tell you, or we could be here all day.”
I shrugged but kept my grasp on her raft.
“You get a knife and you cut a slit in the skin where the bite took place.”
“Why? Aren’t there already holes from the fangs?”
“Yes, but you want to get the venom out as fast as you can, so you make the wound larger in order to allow someone to get the venom out quickly.”
“I’m intrigued and disgusted. Go on.”
“In order to get the venom out, someone other than yourself sucks it out. Some people say you can taste the difference in the blood so you know when you’ve got it all.”
“And this is a sermon how?”
“You have some wounds. There’s some venom that’s causing you some doubt about who you really are and why you’re really here. To get the venom out, you’re going to have to trust someone enough to let them try to save you. In other words, you’re going to have to open those wounds up a little more so that all the venom can come out. There’s always more pain before the healing can begin.”
I let go of the raft long enough to clap a few times but then reached out and took the corners of the raft again.
“So well spoken for a mere twenty-year-old.”
“My father’s a preacher. I’ve heard thousands of sermons.”
“Do you believe them? His messages, I mean?”
“At first I just believed them because he told them. I trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t lie. Eventually, the more I experienced things, the more I came to believe it because I lived it, saw it with my own eyes, or felt it in my spirit. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with borrowing someone else’s faith to get you through until you get enough on your own. If it wouldn’t have been for the faith of my father, I wouldn’t have survived.”
“Survived what?”
She rolled off the raft and swam to the ladder. “Like you say, we all have our secrets.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked as she climbed out of the pool and started to wring out the t-shirt she wore in the pool. “Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. Stay out here with me.”
“I can’t. I’ve got the rest of the house to clean, and I’m a carrot top, remember? I burn easily.” She picked up a towel and wrapped it around her waist.
“Give me a second, and I’ll get out and help you
“My dad was a chef.”
“You’re teasing?”
“Nope. He owned his own restaurant for a while, and then he got hired away to California by a big-time director who hired him to be his personal chef.”
“So that’s how you came to know Oliver? Were he and the director your father works for friends?”
“Sort of.”
“Does your father know that you’re hiding away here?”
“Yes.”
“Does he understand your situation?”
“I don’t know. I think so.” I swam over to the side of the pool, climbed out, threw two rafts into the water, and jumped back in.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
We climbed onto our rafts, she more gracefully than me, and made ourselves comfortable, she on her stomach, me on my back.
“It’s like you said the other day. I’m trying to figure myself out,” I said.
“It will happen. You just have to want it.”
“Want what?”
“The truth.”
“That sounds painful,” I said as I turned onto my stomach and looked over at her. “So tell me what you think. I know you have an opinion.”
“How about a small sermon instead?”
“Oh no.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
She dunked her hands into the water and started to paddle away, but I grabbed the raft and held on so that she stayed within arm’s reach.
“Go on,” I urged.
“You’re certain?”
“Positive.”
“Fine. Do you know what you do if you get bitten by a venomous snake?”
“I’d rather not find out.”
“Come on. Play along.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay. You take an anti-venom?” I guessed.
“What if there isn’t any available?”
“You die?”
“Never mind. I’ll just tell you, or we could be here all day.”
I shrugged but kept my grasp on her raft.
“You get a knife and you cut a slit in the skin where the bite took place.”
“Why? Aren’t there already holes from the fangs?”
“Yes, but you want to get the venom out as fast as you can, so you make the wound larger in order to allow someone to get the venom out quickly.”
“I’m intrigued and disgusted. Go on.”
“In order to get the venom out, someone other than yourself sucks it out. Some people say you can taste the difference in the blood so you know when you’ve got it all.”
“And this is a sermon how?”
“You have some wounds. There’s some venom that’s causing you some doubt about who you really are and why you’re really here. To get the venom out, you’re going to have to trust someone enough to let them try to save you. In other words, you’re going to have to open those wounds up a little more so that all the venom can come out. There’s always more pain before the healing can begin.”
I let go of the raft long enough to clap a few times but then reached out and took the corners of the raft again.
“So well spoken for a mere twenty-year-old.”
“My father’s a preacher. I’ve heard thousands of sermons.”
“Do you believe them? His messages, I mean?”
“At first I just believed them because he told them. I trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t lie. Eventually, the more I experienced things, the more I came to believe it because I lived it, saw it with my own eyes, or felt it in my spirit. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with borrowing someone else’s faith to get you through until you get enough on your own. If it wouldn’t have been for the faith of my father, I wouldn’t have survived.”
“Survived what?”
She rolled off the raft and swam to the ladder. “Like you say, we all have our secrets.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked as she climbed out of the pool and started to wring out the t-shirt she wore in the pool. “Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. Stay out here with me.”
“I can’t. I’ve got the rest of the house to clean, and I’m a carrot top, remember? I burn easily.” She picked up a towel and wrapped it around her waist.
“Give me a second, and I’ll get out and help you
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