CHAPTER 2
Biting her lower lip, Kristen stared down at her feet. Without a word, she trudged out of the room, shoulders slumped. Her foot thuds faded as she went upstairs. Clearing her throat, Tess stood up. “I’ve got to get something out of the car.”
She left the room. Monica rose to her feet, approached Randy, and perched next to him on the couch, propping her fingers on her knees. Studiously avoiding her face, he stared down at the polished coffee table, whizzing the face of his watch up and down with his thumb and forefinger.
“Mr. Oates,” the soft-hearted angel said, gently, “your daughter is grieving, too, and not just for her mother. I sense that. Tell me, has she made friends yet at her new school?”
Randy shook his head. “No. Not to my knowledge. I know she wanted to stay with her old friends, but…” His voice trailed off. He continued to stare at the coffee table. Monica saw her own reflection, and his, in its surface.
She nodded. “Then she’s feeling lonely. She’s left her old friends, her school, everything that was dear and familiar to her. She has yet to make any friends here.” She laid a hand on Randy’s arm. “Your daughter desperately needs to make some. She needs something to occupy her. Give her pleasure.” Randy stiffened, but Monica kept her hand on his arm.
She looked at him beseechingly. “Why not let her go? There are other teenagers there, in that support group; some of them are going to be in the pageant. All of them go to her new school. It would do her a world of good. She’s all alone, staying at home day after day when she gets home from school.”
Raising his head, Randy shook it as he stared at her through narrowed eyes. At last, he sighed. “Monica, I can see you’re a persuasive woman.” He smiled wryly. “I might add that you certainly have a gentle way about you. And a lovely accent.”
He leaned back, sighing in surrender. “All right. She can go to the pageant. I certainly never wanted her to be lonely and unhappy.” He bit his lower lip. “I suppose you’d like her to have a part, too. Tess is in charge of it, you say?”
“Yes.“ Monica smiled broadly. “If she wishes to have one, it would please us to have her. Meanwhile, why don’t you let her come to the rehearsal tonight? It’ll give her a chance to make some friends. Tess and I will be leaving for the church shortly; we’d be glad to take Kristen with us.”
Randy rose to his feet. “OK.” A wry smile spread across his face. “You know, I get the feeling your friend Tess isn’t someone to fool with.”
At that moment, Tess re-entered the living room, carrying a brochure. “Mr. Oates, have we your permission to take Kristen with us to the church?” Randy nodded, reluctance etched on his face. Tess smiled. “Rest assured, you won’t regret it. It will be good for your daughter. And believe it or not, it’ll be good for you, too.”
She handed him the glossy brochure, then clasped her hands in front of her waist. “This is a brochure about our support group.” With a sigh, he laid it on the coffee table. He gazed down at the newspaper and the television’s remote control lying next to it.
Tess went to the foot of the stairway and called Kristen. The young girl came down; when she reached the floor, she slouched against the wall, gazing at Tess.
“Get your coat,” Tess ordered. “Your father has given you permission to go to the pageant on Sunday. Meanwhile, how would you like to come with us to the rehearsal, to meet some other kids?”
Kristen’s eyes lit up. She immediately straightened her back. “I’d love to! Thanks, Daddy.” Randy waved toward her, dismissing her, then picked up his newspaper and sat down. He paid no further attention to the two angels. Tess shook her head as she frowned at him.
Kristen rushed up the stairs; a few minutes later, she darted back down, wearing a bright red coat and a brown winter cap. She raced out the front door, followed by Tess and Monica. She climbed into the front seat of the bright-red Cadillac, next to Tess. The air felt frigid, so Tess raised the convertible’s top and turned on the heater.
As they pulled out, Kristen pulled a comb out of her coat pocket and ran it through her hair a few times. A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the church.
The group entered the sanctuary, where adults and teenagers milled around in costumes. Their shoes softly thudded on the carpet as they strode up the middle aisle. Tess smiled. “I’m back, everybody! And I’ve brought in someone to take Maria’s place.”
A man wearing a shepherd’s costume approached her. “Who?” He removed his glasses as he stared at Kristen.
“This young lady.” Tess laid a hand on Kristen’s shoulder. “She’s going to play the role of Mary.”
The others cheered; Kristen fought back a gulp, then rubbed her eyes. Nothing would please her more than to take part in a Christmas pageant--she missed the Christmas celebrations that had been so prevalent prior to the disappearances a year-and-a-half before. But she just knew her father would never approve!
Eyes wide with fear, she turned toward the heavy-set angel. “I--I’d love to take part, but--but--my dad…” Her voice trailed off. Clearing her throat, she added, “I want to, Tess. But my daddy will never let me. He hates Christmas.” Misery welled up, forming a heavy stone in her heart. “He didn’t used to, not while my mom was here. But now, he says we’re never going to celebrate it again!”
Monica laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Kristen,” she assured the young girl. “I’ll have a talk with him, myself, while you and the others rehearse. I’ll do what I can to persuade him.”
Kristen nodded, but fear created a rise of nausea in her throat. It’ll take more than Monica to persuade my dad, she thought.
Tess patted her arm. “You sit here right now, while we finish rehearsing the scene about the angels and shepherds. I’ll give you a costume when we’re done, and then we’ll start to rehearse your scene. You can make friends with the other kids here when rehearsal’s done--they’re going to play the angelic choir.”
She picked up a baton and marched toward the stage. “All right! Time to take your places. We’ll rehearse the shepherds’ scene first, then we’ll rehearse the angels’ song.”
Kristen removed her coat, her cap, and her gloves, and laid them on the front pew. She perched next to the pew‘s edge, and watched as Tess led the actors through their paces. At one point, a young woman with shoulder-length reddish-brown hair, whom Tess called Gloria, had a group of teenagers rehearse Christmas songs. All, she noticed, were dressed as angels.
Making a valiant effort to keep the longing out of her eyes, Kristen took a deep breath. There was no doubt in her mind that, as soon as her father found out, he would forbid not only her participation but her very attendance at the pageant. He had never allowed her mother to take her to church; he’d always been hostile toward the very idea.
I wish my mom could have taken me to church, Kristen thought, shifting her gaze to the wood-paneled wall next to her. These people are nice.
Old memories seeped into her mind. Kristen thought about how her mother used to sing her to sleep at night, after having her say her prayers…how she’d dress up for church, put on her favorite necklace and brooch, and dab her ears with some perfume…and how she would hug Kristen when she came home from school.
My mom sure looked pretty in those nice church dresses, she thought. And she always looked so happy when she came home. So peaceful! She ran her fingers through her hair as she reminisced.
“Kristen?” Tess’s voice jolted her. “Come here, Kristen; Gloria and I have a costume for you. It’s time for you to rehearse.”
Rubbing her eyes, Kristen leaped to her feet and raced toward the stage. Tess held out a dark-blue woolen robe. She helped the young girl drape it around her body and over her head, then led her to a makeshift reconstruction of a stable. A teenage boy, dressed in a Bible robe, stood there, waiting.
Meanwhile, Gloria led the other teenagers off the stage and told them to sit on the front right pew. Returning to the stage, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed her reddish-brown hair out of her eyes.
“Hi.” The boy smiled at Kristen. “I’m Travis Thompson. Nice to meet you. I’m playing Joseph.”
“Thanks.” Kristen plastered a smile on her face. “I’m Kristen. Kristen Oates. My dad and I just moved here a few weeks ago.”
Before rehearsal could continue, the front door slammed open. A man wearing a gray business suit strode into the sanctuary, followed by a couple of policemen.
“Where is Pastor Thomas?” he asked. His voice boomed all over the sanctuary.
“I’m Pastor Thomas.” A man wearing a clerical suit approached the visitor.
The other man stopped in front of the minister. “I am Allen Davidson, and I have come here to announce that church pageants in any form are forbidden. You are hereby ordered to cease and desist these preparations right now!” He scanned the actors and crew, a stern expression etching his face.
END OF CHAPTER 2