A Searching Heart Page 2

  It was pitch black outside before the whistle finally announced that someone, somewhere, had decided it was indeed time to move. Virginia heaved a sigh of relief and pressed her shoulders back against the worn maroon plush. But now there was absolutely nothing to see once they had moved beyond the lights of the small town. Here and there a dim light flickered, indicating a farmhouse cuddled in the darkness. Virginia had looked forward to seeing the sights between their hometown and the university city where they would find Rodney. Now—nothing but the inky darkness. Inky darkness and monotonous, jerky train-car travel. Like Francine said, it felt as though the train had a bad case of hiccups.

  And Danny still could not relax. His constant shifting irritated Virginia. She was inclined to reprimand him sharply, but she was sure she would get a stern glance from her father reminding her that she was not the parent.

  Francine soon—in boredom, Virginia was sure—leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder and drifted off to sleep. Virginia longed to join her. The miles would pass so much more quickly if only she could sleep them away. But there was no place for her to be comfortable enough to sleep.

  Even the other passengers provided no distraction. Virginia could see the backs of a few heads. Doing nothing. Making no sound—except for the man three seats down and across the aisle who was soon snoring loudly. If this is train travel, thought Virginia glumly, it certainly is nothing to get excited about. She had looked forward to her first train trip with such anticipation, expecting it to be filled with drama and intrigue. But it was just a dimly lit, unassuming car, rattling its way noisily and rather clumsily through darkness, with stiff, silent figures for traveling companions. Virginia sighed, sure that there would be more excitement sitting in her school classroom watching the somber teacher chalk a late-morning assignment up on the blackboard.

  She yawned and longed for sleep that would not come. She told herself that once they reached Rodney’s university, things would quickly change for the better.

  ———

  As expected, they were late arriving. Virginia knew her father had taken advantage of the delayed departure to phone Rodney about not trying to meet their train. The next morning he could join them at their hotel for a late breakfast. Anxious to see her older brother, Virginia was further frustrated at the call. But there was no use complaining. It didn’t make sense for Rodney to wait around, she knew. Once they arrived in the city, she was hopeful at least some of the excitement would return.

  But there was little to revive her when the huge, puffing locomotive pulled into the dark and dreary station. The wooden benches looked as worn and tired as the weary and stoical passengers following them from the train. The waiting room floors of dark parquet were horribly grimy, to Virginia’s thinking. She shuddered as she avoided areas that seemed to be stained by some slovenly man’s chewing tobacco.

  The few people lingering about looked like loiterers with nothing better to occupy their time. Virginia could feel their eyes surveying her and each family member, making her feel dreadfully uncomfortable. She was glad to hear her father announce that he had procured a cab waiting just outside the door.

  It did not take them long to gather their luggage that, to Virginia’s thinking, contained more treats for Rodney than actual items for their short stay. With Drew in the lead, they exited the dismal station and climbed into an equally dismal city cab smelling of stale cigars and odors of past occupants. Virginia cringed again and fervently hoped her feet were not planted in someone’s spewed-forth chewing tobacco.

  Her father gave the instructions to the cab driver, and they lurched forward with a grinding of gears and blaring of horn. Virginia noted that the driver’s hand was never far from the latter all of the way to the hotel, though he used it only intermittently.

  The hotel her father had booked was touted as one of the best in the city, but Virginia was unimpressed. There were no voluptuous chandeliers reflecting dancing prism-rainbows over vast, thick carpets. The lighting was quite plain and rather dim, the carpets rich in color, but worn. There were no elegantly dressed gentlemen rushing about, bowing to newcomers and reaching out for luggage and asking how they might be of service. One man sat behind a desk and looked reprimandingly at them over the rim of small round spectacles.

  “Simpson,” he muttered just loud enough to be heard when their father announced his name. “Yes. You were to be in over three hours ago.”

  “The train was late,” her father offered.

  “Mmmm,” the man murmured, looking up again over the glasses. His expression declared that late guests always had some excuse. The railroad seemed as good a scapegoat as any.

  “Rooms 315 and 318,” he finally said and slid some keys across the desk’s worn surface, tracing the path of many previous keys.

  Virginia heard her father politely thank the man, and then they moved as one little huddle of humanity toward the long stairway.

  It was well after midnight and they all were weary. There was little conversation and certainly no shared exclamations over exciting discoveries in Rodney’s city. Her father brought the little group to a halt when they reached room 315, opened the door, and reached inside to find a light. Hesitantly their mother followed. Virginia did not move, but from where she stood she could see two beds, their dark flowered spreads clashing with the equally colorful but worn floor covering.

  “This must be your room,” her father was saying. “It has the two beds.”

  Two beds? Virginia found herself wondering how three people were going to sleep on two beds. Then she knew. She was expected to share a bed with her sister. Inwardly she groaned. She would never get any sleep. Francine churned like a windmill in a gale. Arms and legs flung this way and that as she tossed and turned and sought new and better sleeping positions.

  “We’ll take this bed, Francine, and let Virginia have the one by the window,” her mother was saying. She moved forward to deposit her heavy load of carefully packed and tenderly carried baked goods on a table.

  Virginia felt a moment of guilt even as she felt relief. Her mother would have to put up with the windmill. “Francine can sleep with me,” she heard herself saying. “I don’t mind sharing a bed.”

  “I’ve a better idea,” spoke up Francine, who had been teased and tormented over the years about her sleeping habits. “Why don’t the two of you share a bed and let me have one to myself? Then we will all get some sleep.”

  Virginia looked with some astonishment at her twelveyear-old sister, then found herself laughing. She heard her mother’s soft chuckle join her. Soon Francine was laughing, as well. It felt good. Virginia felt the tension and exasperation of the whole tiresome trip drain away and saw her mother’s sagging shoulders lift a little. Perhaps a good laugh was what they all needed. They should have tried it earlier. The trip might not have been so difficult.

  Virginia saw her mother reach out a hand to brush a stray curl back from Francine’s face. “You’re right,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “We’ll do it your way and get a good sleep. And in the morning we’ll see Rodney. He is to be here at the hotel for a nine o’clock breakfast.” The lilt in Belinda’s voice indicated she could hardly wait.

  “I wonder what he’s like now,” mused Francine as she removed her small hat and traveling coat.

  “What do you mean?” Virginia responded.

  “I wonder what he’s like now? How much he’s changed?”

  “He’s only been gone a little over two months.”

  “I know. But he’ll be different. I just know it. University does that to people.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Virginia chided, but a strange little fear twisted somewhere inside. Was it true? Did one really change that quickly when off to university? Had Rodney changed? And if Rodney had changed—might Jamison change, as well? A little shiver passed through her. She didn’t want Rodney to change. She liked him just the way he was. And she certainly didn’t want Jamison to change. He was almost perfect, so any cha
nge would not be for the better, she was sure.

  CHAPTER 2

  Actually, I like the chemistry classes best. I mean, just to study how things are constructed, what holds them together— it’s amazing. I think it has strengthened my faith in God, though our professor certainly doesn’t put God in the picture. But there has to be a God. Such . . . such spectacular things couldn’t just happen.”

  They were in the hotel dining room having their breakfast together. Virginia had witnessed her mother’s relief that Rodney had not lost weight since leaving her table, and her father’s consolation that his firstborn still stood without a slouch and had a decent haircut. Danny, totally unaware of his parents’ unspoken observations, openly admired his older brother and groused over the delay in being shown around the campus. He was convinced Rodney had the whole place under his full control. Francine, in between bites of French toast with peach syrup, was still studying him carefully. Virginia was sure she was looking for those subtle but inevitable changes that happened to university students.

  Virginia found herself watching for changes, as well. Little things now caught her attention, and she found herself puzzling over whether they had been there before or had developed since his university admittance. Did he always part his hair on that side—or was it the other? Is he wearing his tie looser? That brushing of his hand over his cheek—did he do that before?

  The truth was, she wasn’t sure. She had never paid that much attention to Rodney before.

  But Danny had quickly wolfed down his plate of hot cakes and sausage and was fidgeting in impatience to be off for their tour.

  “More coffee, ma’am? Sir?” the waiter was asking. Virginia saw Danny grimace when Drew nodded and moved both cups forward.

  “Tell me more about this church you’re attending,” Belinda encouraged.

  “It’s great. It really is. They have a nice bunch of kids my age. They really want to make an impact on other university students. I’m the only one from the U at this point. But I’m working on my roommate and the fellow just down the hall. They come from Christian homes, and I know they feel they should be going to church somewhere. They just haven’t settled on one yet. Then there is this fellow from my physics class. He tries to act like a tough guy, but he’s not been feeling well, and the doctors can’t find out why. I think his bravado is just a bluff. That under it all he’s scared. I’ve been trying to befriend him, but I’m not getting much encouragement yet. I’d appreciate your prayers. His name is Austin.”

  Virginia watched her father push back his coffee cup. “Let’s take a moment to pray for Austin,” he suggested.

  Right here? Right now? Virginia wished to question her father, but she knew exactly what he intended. Right there, in the middle of the busy hotel dining room, they would all bow their heads as their father led them in a sincere prayer for Rodney’s needy new friend. Virginia wanted to hide under the table.

  The prayer was made quietly in a few short, earnest words. Virginia did not know whether to open her eyes when it ended or to just stay as she was so she couldn’t see the astonishment— or amused smirks—of other diners. When she did manage to find the courage to peek around the room, she was surprised to discover that the other diners seemingly had paid no attention to them at all.

  “I say it’s time to be getting out there,” Danny blurted. “We are going to be missing half a day if we don’t get started.”

  Rodney smiled and reached over to give his younger brother a playful punch on the arm. “Let’s go. I’m looking forward to showing you around. Things are always a bit quiet on Saturday, but you can still get a good feel for the place. Who knows?” he added with a grin. “We might even catch one or two in the library studying.”

  As they left the hotel, Rodney fell into step beside Virginia. “So are you still hearing from Jamison?”

  Virginia was surprised. “Of course,” she answered.

  Rodney nodded.

  But Virginia could not dismiss his question so lightly. “Why do you ask? Like that?”

  Rodney half turned to her, his shoulders giving a careless shrug. “Like what?”

  “Like . . . I don’t know. Like you thought that just because Jamison is away that we’d . . . well . . . stop caring or something.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No . . . but you sort of hinted at it or something.”

  “No. No, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Then what way did you mean it?”

  Rodney placed a lanky arm over her shoulders. “Look, I didn’t mean anything. I was just making conversation, that’s all. So how’s the guy doing?”

  Virginia’s eyes lit up. She loved to talk about Jamison, and here was a fresh, uninformed listener to whom she could boast freely. “You know he’s the quarterback,” she enthused. “And they’ve been doing very well in their games. Think they might even be able to win the championship this year. They have never won it before. So far, their record is seven and one. And Jamison says—”

  “And his studies,” Rodney interrupted. “How’re they going?”

  “Oh, Rodney,” said Virginia, shrugging off his arm with a mock frown. “You’re always thinking of studies. Jamison thinks he might even be able to make a professional team if things continue to go well. They do make good money. More than he would ever make as a lab technician—or whatever—like you plan to be.”

  Rodney nodded. “True” was all he said. Then he added with a bit more enthusiasm, “He always did like sports and was especially good at football.”

  Virginia nodded, appreciating Rodney’s acknowledgment of the things Jamison was good at.

  “He had a hard time deciding between football and baseball,” she continued. “But he picked football. Next year he hopes to receive a scholarship.”

  “That’s great. Has he found a good church group?”

  “He meets with a small interdenominational group just off campus. He likes the young minister, and he says they’ve a good group of young people. They have some real fiery discussions. Coming from many church backgrounds, they find they have different opinions—on many things. Jamison says it’s good for him. Makes him think through issues that he has just blindly accepted as truth in the past.”

  “Such as?” Rodney wondered.

  “Not . . . not basic things like who God is or if Jesus is really divine or anything like that. Just . . . small things. Baptism or communion.”

  “They’re not small things.”

  “I didn’t mean like that. But different churches do treat them in . . . in various ways.”

  Rodney nodded.

  “Jamison says that it is good to understand why other churches take different views. It opens one up to thinking through things and making Bible-based decisions.”

  “Bible-based decisions are good,” agreed Rodney.

  Rodney sounded sincere, and Virginia was about to continue on concerning Jamison’s church and spiritual journey, but Danny dropped back beside them and broke into the conversation. “You know that fox kit that I had last summer?”

  Rodney nodded.

  “I was out in Grandpa’s field a couple weeks back and I saw him. I’m sure it was him. He stopped and looked right at me like he couldn’t decide whether to come to me or run off. Then he trotted away and looked back twice before he disappeared. I’m sure it was him.”

  “Really?”

  “He had that funny little crimp in his left ear. Remember? Well, this one had it. Right up top.” Danny indicated where the crimp had been located.

  “And he didn’t bolt?”

  “No. Just stood there and studied me. I . . .”

  Virginia hastened her step. She knew she had lost her audience. She might as well walk up beside Francine.

  ———

  The university campus was interesting, and Virginia thought about her own college experience less than a year away. But in spite of being used to walking, she found that she was tiring as the day wore on. There were ju
st too many walkways. Too many buildings. Too much to see and too great a distance separating them all.

  Francine complained first. “My feet are whining. Besides, all these buildings look the same. Can’t I just sit down somewhere and wait for you?”

  “Not alone . . .” began their mother.

  Virginia saw her opportunity. “I’ll stay with her,” she was quick to offer.

  “There’s a little shop with a soda fountain just up ahead,” Rodney informed them. “You can get yourselves a cool pop and wait for us there.”

  Rodney ushered them in and indicated an empty seat. He even ordered frosty Cokes and saw them settled before moving off with Danny and their parents. Virginia stretched out her legs under the table and even slipped off her shoes. Like Francine, her feet were aching.

  It was fun to just sit and sip, watching the young and chattery university students. Virginia envisioned herself as one of them and could hardly wait for her upcoming graduation so she might join the friendly, laughing crowd. But she would not be attending this university. No, her plans were already made to be with Jamison. What fun it would be to be in college together. How wonderful it would be to watch him play football. Already she saw him as the star of the game. People would be cheering, “Yeah, Jamison,” and she would be cheering more loudly than all the rest. She could hardly wait.

  And she would go with him to his little church and share in the discussions on faith and how to live it in a world that showed indifference. She would listen to the various ideas presented and be free to express her own thoughts on subjects. Jamison said that anyone was welcome into the discussions.

  Another little cluster of students entered the shop and took seats not too distant from Virginia and Francine. Virginia tried not to stare, but it was hard not to watch them. They were rowdier than other groups had been. Loud laughter punctuated most of their remarks, and Virginia heard speech peppered with words that her friend Jenny Woods might use. Words that Virginia often had not understood but knew were not appropriate for a Christian to use. Inwardly she cringed and diverted her attention back to her Coke. She would focus her thoughts back on her future days at college with Jamison. Jamison would . . .