Page 35 of Born to be Wilder

“Because it’s important.” My hand instinctively went to the rosary under my shirt. Ever since Alice had given us her terrible diagnosis, I had been praying my rosary anytime I had a quiet moment. Like it was my only tether in this terrible storm. With how often I reached up and touched it anytime I suppressed my tears and fears, it would likely be worn to nothing by the time Alice started treatment.

“Doris.” Alice sighed a long, weary sound. “Cancer is already trying to kill me. Please don’t bore me to death before it gets the chance.”

It was a joke. I knew it was a joke. Alice used humor the way I used prayer—to get through the things that were too big to face directly.

But the word death landed in my chest like a mule kick, and before I could stop it, the tears came. Just a few, fast and hot, before I could blink them away.

Dang it, Doris. No tears!

“Oh, Doris—” Sylvie was beside me immediately, her hand on my arm.

“I’m fine.” I pressed my lips together. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—” Sylvie spun toward Alice and Marge and gave them a look that could have curdled milk. “You need to apologize. Both of you. You’re both being thoughtless to Doris today.”

Alice pressed her mouth flat, looking briefly at the sky like she needed a moment to summon patience. Then she turned to me. “I’m sorry. That was unkind. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry,” Marge muttered, looking at her boots. “I didn’t mean it was boring. I just... I like ziplines.”

Alice stepped over and slung an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go see this Ark you’re so excited to show us. We’ll go in the boat. We’ll see the animals two by two. We’ll have fun.”

“You really want to see it?” I sniffled, wiping my eyes with the hem of my cardigan.

“We do,” Sylvie answered for them. “It does sound incredible. Why don’t you lead the way?”

“Okay.” I straightened my Viking helmet, lifting my chin as I sniffled away the last of my tears. “Follow me.”

As I led them toward the Ark, I closed my eyes and prayed.

Please, Lord. Let them see it. Let them feel something. Let them emerge from the Ark as believers.

I wasn’t afraid of death. I knew where I was going. But the thought of Alice—vibrant, stubborn, beautiful Alice—dying...

I closed my eyes against the image.

And dying without being a believer. Dying without being able to step through Heaven’s pearly gates…

It was more than I could bear.

Please, Lord, I whispered as we stepped into the shadows of the Ark. Just fill her up the way you fill me. She’s going to need you in the battle ahead. But until then, I’ll keep praying for the both of us.

I looked at the other widows walking beside her, the other nonbelievers.

I’ll pray hard enough for us all.

Chapter Eight

The moment we crossed the threshold into the Ark, I held my breath, waiting for the miracle. I expected a rush of wind, or perhaps a sudden, holy hush to fall over my three delinquent best friends. I wanted them to be struck by the Spirit the way a lightning bolt hits a copper rod.

“Wow,” Sylvie whispered, her head tilted back as she looked up toward the sky.

I practically squealed with excitement.

This is it, I thought, squeezing the rosary dangling from my neck. It was happening to her. One step inside the Ark and the Lord was already granting my wish… to fill them with his Spirit the way He’d filled me since I was a little girl kneeling beside my bed in my nightgown.

Come on, Lord. Do your thing.

“Look at the massive timber columns. This is actually a lot cooler than I expected. The engineering alone is mind-boggling.”