The Atonement Child Page 11
“Yes, I know.”
When Dean Abernathy said no more, Dynah searched his face. She saw something in his expression that filled her with confusion.
“NLC doesn’t condone abortion,” Dean Abernathy said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I understand why Ethan feels as he does. I imagine I would feel the same way under the circumstances. You and Ethan are both well aware of our stand on this issue, though the hard cases are seldom discussed.”
He leaned back, as though withdrawing from her as far as possible. “We can hope, however. Sometimes God and nature are merciful in these matters.” He hesitated and then continued, looking straight at her. “If you were to miscarry, no one would ever know what happened.”
Unless Ethan decided to tell them, came the unbidden thought.
“Should I pray I miscarry?” She wondered if Dean Abernathy was aware of the subtle pressures he was bringing to bear upon her. If she wasn’t pregnant, she could stay; if she was, she had to leave. And if she came to him and informed him the pregnancy was over, he wouldn’t ask how it happened. And no one need ever know what happened to her.
“God knows the desires of our heart.”
She frowned, confused and heartsick. Was he saying that abortion was the easier and most reasonable way, but if she chose it, he didn’t want to know about it? As long as she was unpregnant, she could continue as before?
Ethan. His concerns were focused on Ethan. He was worried about how all this affected Ethan’s schooling and Ethan’s career and Ethan’s service to the Lord. It was Ethan’s future that mattered. Not hers.
I’m expendable.
Lowering her head, she clasped her hands. She wasn’t being fair. It wasn’t that she didn’t matter at all; it was that she mattered less. She didn’t have the gifts Ethan did, gifts that might expand the Kingdom and bring people to the Lord. She was just an ordinary girl. Nothing special.
“Pray as your heart leads you, Dynah,” Dean Abernathy said. She met his gaze and saw sympathy there, but resignation as well. She understood. He felt he had no choice. He had to think of what was best for the majority. He had to think of NLC’s reputation. “And may God’s will be done.”
A platitude to salve her wounds. He couldn’t possibly know how much those words hurt her.
When Dean Abernathy stood, Dynah knew the interview was over. Gathering her book bag, she stood as well. He approached with all the appearance of a concerned father, but she felt his hand on her back, firmly guiding her to the door. “Let me know what you decide,” he said, opening it for her. “I’ll hold you in my daily prayers.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving the appropriate rote response.
She already knew what she was going to do.
Ethan was waiting for her in the student union, a theology book open in front of him, a cup of herbal tea beside his notes. He was so intent upon his studies that he didn’t notice her until she was standing beside the table. His eyes flickered, faint color stealing into his face as he stood and drew back a chair for her. “Do you want some tea?”
“No, thank you.”
“Why don’t you put your book bag down?”
“I’m not staying long.” Beneath the edge of the table, she worked at the ring on her finger. As soon as it slipped off, she set it on the table between them.
Ethan stared at it and then looked at her. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m breaking our engagement.” She hadn’t expected to see the shock or wounded look in his eyes, nor the relief mingled with hurt. He was as confused as she was, but she knew what she was doing was best for them both.
“Dynah, I’m sorry I told Dean Abernathy. I was upset. Can’t you try to understand and forgive me? When he told me what was at stake, I—”
“It’s not something you can hide forever, Ethan,” she said, absolving him yet again of guilt.
Everyone receives absolution but me, God.
Ethan covered the ring with his hand and tucked it quickly into his blazer pocket out of sight. “I’ll keep it until you’re ready to take it back.”
“I won’t take it back.”
“Can’t we work this out?”
“No, we can’t, Ethan. The only way things would work is if I was willing to do what you want me to do. And I’m not.” She shook her head, looking down at her bare hand. Her throat closed hot and tight. She hadn’t known him well enough, or maybe she had. Maybe she had just expected too much of him.
If she stayed any longer, she would make matters worse by crying and giving everyone around them something to wonder and talk about and him more cause for embarrassment. Shifting her book bag, she stepped back.
“Stay, Dynah. Please. Talk to me.”
It was too late for talk. “There’s no point. Nothing’s going to change.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“I’m going home.”
One phone call to Dean Abernathy and a few hours to pack her things was all the time it took to end her life at NLC. She knew she should call Joe and say good-bye, but she took the easy way out and wrote a note to him instead. She put it in an envelope and stamped it. She’d drop it in the mailbox on her way out of town.
“If my mom calls, don’t tell her anything. I’ll be home in a week, and they’ll know all about it then. Promise?”
“I promise,” Janet said grimly. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? Couldn’t you think about—?”
“No.”
“It would all be so much easier if you—”
“No, it wouldn’t. Jan, even if I do have an abortion, it’s not going to change my feelings. Ethan and I are through.”
“He loves you, Dynah. I know he does. It’d work out. It would.”
At what cost? “I love him, too, but it’s not enough. It’s just not.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him anymore. And if you can’t trust someone, you can’t build any kind of lasting relationship with them.” Like God, she thought, aching inside. She didn’t trust Him anymore either.
Closing her suitcase, she locked it and swung it off the bed onto the floor. “I’ve got to go.” She wanted to be as far away from NLC by nightfall as she could be.
Oh, God, what are my parents going to say when they hear? What am I going to tell them?
She would have time enough to think about that on the long drive home to California.
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Joe said, wanting to shake Ethan out of his self-centered lethargy. “Gone where?”
“Home. Just leave me alone, would you please? I’m upset enough already without you coming at me about it.” And he had a presentation to prepare, the most important presentation of the year. He couldn’t afford to go on obsessing about Dynah and her problems.
“What about school? Spring break is in a few weeks. She can’t afford to leave—”
“She quit.”
“Quit?” Joe watched the color seep into Ethan’s face. Eyes narrowing, he frowned. “Why?”
“How should I know?”
“You know something!” Joe’s anger heated his blood. “What made her quit? Or should I ask who?”
Ethan glared, furious. “Don’t look at me! Nothing made Dynah do anything. She wouldn’t listen to reason. She wouldn’t listen to anybody. She decided this for herself, along with a few other choice things along the way. She gave my ring back. Did you know that? Just tossed it on the table in the student union in front of everybody, like it meant nothing to her. I called her this morning, and Janet said she left. Yesterday! Just packed up and split! That’s how much she cares.”
Joe’s hand clenched. The sheen of tears in Ethan’s eyes was the only thing that kept him from knocking him across the apartment kitchen.
Slamming out of the apartment, he drove to the dorm and called Janet from the lobby. Pacing, he raked his hand through his hair. He was going to have to get it cut again soon. NLC had rules about hair going past the collar. NLC had rules abou
t everything. He frowned, wondering if the rules had anything to do with what was going on. No way! They wouldn’t be that heartless. Not if they knew the whole story. He saw the elevator doors open and headed for Janet. “What happened?”
“Dean Abernathy spoke with her.”
“Great. What’d he say to her? Her grades were dropping and her scholarship’s at risk?”
“No. He was concerned about Ethan’s performance. Unfortunately, during the interview yesterday, Ethan told Dean Abernathy that Dynah’s pregnant.”
“Did he tell him the circumstances?”
“Yes, but it didn’t make much difference.”
“What do you mean it didn’t make much difference?”
She told him the rest.
Joe stood for a moment, the heat pouring through him, his heart pounding. They were heartless.
“I tried to talk her out of leaving, Joe, but she’d made up her mind.”
“How upset was she?” Was she going to stop somewhere along the highway and buy another bottle of pills?
“She seemed okay. She packed most of her stuff in boxes and labeled them. I’m supposed to ship them UPS in a week. She figured she would be home by then.”
“What route’s she taking?”
“Oh, Joe, you’d never catch up with her. Don’t be crazy. Besides, she didn’t say. I-80, I would guess. I hope that stupid car of hers makes it. She promised to call me every night and let me know that she’s safe.”
“Did she?”
“She made it to Des Moines last night. She called about ten fifteen. She’s probably halfway across Nebraska by now.”
“Call me the minute you hear from her again.” He strode across the lobby and punched the glass door handles with the heels of his hand and flung the doors open. Going down the steps, he headed across the campus. People moved out of his way and watched him pass.
He marched up the steps of the administration building, banged the door open, and strode down the corridor toward the deans’ offices.
“May I help you?”
“I want to see Dean Abernathy.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. Buzz him. Joe Guilierno. Tell him it’s important.”
“I beg your pardon,” she said with raised brows. “You’re being rather impudent.”
“Forget it. I’ll tell him myself.” He stepped around her desk and headed for the door.
“Just a minute!” she said, rising. “You can’t go in there!”
Joe banged the door open and strode into the dean’s office.
Dean Abernathy was sitting behind his desk going over some papers. Startled, he glanced up, annoyed at the interruption. He had a board meeting tonight and wanted to go over his request for more funds for the sociology department. And there was going to be a discussion on adding a psychology course. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Dean,” the secretary said, flustered. “He wouldn’t listen. He just—”
“Dynah,” Joe said. “Dynah Carey.”
Dean Abernathy’s heart sank. Removing his glasses, he stood. “It’s all right, Mrs. Halverson. You may go. Close the door behind you.” He dropped his glasses on the desk and looked at Joe wearily. “I know that you and Ethan are friends.”
“Dynah is a friend of mine, too.”
“All well and good,” the dean said, raising his hand in hopes of silencing the torrent he was sure Joe Guilierno wanted to get off his chest. These hot-blooded Italians. “But I have no intention of discussing Dynah Carey with you or anyone else.”
“Fine. I’ll just reenact what went on in here day before yesterday, and you tell if I’m right or not. I hope to God I’m wrong.”
“I said—”
“You summoned Ethan because you were concerned about his lack of concentration over the past few months. Right? He told you Dynah was raped. Then he spilled his guts and said she’s pregnant.”
“Now, see here—”
“So you summoned her and informed her of the rules and regulations about unwed pregnancies on NLC. People might get the wrong idea about how she got pregnant. Right?”
“How dare you talk to me in this manner!”
“She ought to go public to save Ethan’s reputation and hers. Right? Of course, if she was too ashamed and traumatized to do that, well, she’d have to leave.”
Heat flooded Dean Abernathy’s face. “That’s enough, Mr. Guilierno.”
“Besides,” Joe went on, temper at full steam, “even if the truth did come out, there’s always the chance students might choose to think she and Ethan made up some story to cover fornication.”
“Get out of here!”
“You sanctimonious, pharisaical—”
“If you continue with this attitude, I’ll have to take disciplinary action against you!”
“Do it! Go ahead! I’d like nothing better than to go before the board of directors and tell them what happened in here. I wonder if they’d all share your narrow-minded, self-righteous view of how to handle the situation.”
“Get out of my office! Now!”
“I’ll get out of your office. I’ll even get off your campus! But first, I want you to know what you did.” He walked to the edge of the desk and jabbed a finger at him. “You aborted her.”
“What are you talking about? I did no such thing.”
“No? Well, you think about it. Think long and hard, Dean Abernathy. God gave you the perfect opportunity to show Dynah compassion, and what did you do? You scraped her out of your neat, perfect little world and dumped her in the trash.”
Dean Abernathy’s eyes flickered, his face paling.
Joe saw the words had sunk deep. “Yeah,” he said, filled with sorrow, “that’s what you did, you and a lot of other people who ought to know better.” Turning, he headed for the door. Pausing, he looked back. “The purpose of NLC is to train up godly men and women so they can bring the light of Christ into every walk of life. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you tell me how we can do that, Dean. Tell me how on God’s green earth we can dare offer salvation to a dying world when we’re so busy shooting our own wounded.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Striding out of the building, Joe wondered what he could do to help Dynah now. He didn’t know where she was, and even if he did, he couldn’t get to her fast enough. Somewhere in the middle of Nebraska. Jesus, God, please watch over her. Put angels over and around her. Keep her safe. Give her Your peace in all this. Don’t let her lose hope. He closed his eyes, grief washing over him. Don’t let us lose hope, Lord. No matter how hopelessly we fail.
Janet called each evening right after she spoke with Dynah.
“She made it to Grand Island, Nebraska.”
“She’s in Cheyenne, Wyoming.”
“She’s staying at some little dump in Salt Lake City, Joe. I could hear noise coming through her walls.”
“She’s in Wells, Nevada. She was calling from a pay phone in a truck stop across the street.”
Joe kept praying. Lord, please keep her car running. Father, don’t let her break down someplace in the desert. Jesus, let her feel Your presence. Keep her safe.
“She’s in Reno. She sounded really tired, Joe. She said she should be home by tomorrow afternoon. She promised to call as soon as she gets there.”
“Let me know as soon as you hear anything.”
Janet paused. “How’s Ethan doing?”
Joe stared at the wall grimly. “He aced his presentation.”
Dynah pulled up in front of the house on Ocean Avenue at one thirty the following afternoon. She had been unable to sleep the night before and had departed Reno at seven. She had made two stops, one for gas in Sacramento and another for something to eat at a Denny’s in Vacaville.
Exhausted, she unlocked the front door and entered the house. Her parents were seldom home this time of day. Dad would be in his downtown office working, and Mom would most likely be grocery shopp
ing, reorganizing the clothing closet at the church, or visiting one of the parishioners shut into their homes by age or infirmity.
“Now that you’re off on your own, there’s no use in me sitting around doing nothing,” she’d said the last time Dynah came home.
Setting her suitcases down, Dynah picked up the phone and punched in a number. She counted the rings on the other end. One, two, three, four. The answering machine came on. “Hi! This is Janet. I’m sorry, but I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and your number at the sound of the beep, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!”
“I’m home, Jan. Everything’s fine. Thanks.” Placing the receiver back in its cradle, she picked up her suitcases and headed for the stairs.
Her room was exactly the way she left it. The full-size bed was covered with a sunflower-patterned comforter and white-and-yellow pillows with eyelet lace trims. Priscilla curtains covered the windows; a long pale-green cushion adorned the window seat. A high white shelf held a zoo of stuffed animals, which she had collected since she was a baby, while the bookshelves were filled with children’s classics and Precious Moments figurines her mother and father had given her for each birthday and Christmas. A picture of her and Ethan standing on the shore of Lake Michigan sat on top of the white French provincial dresser. It had been taken the day after he asked her to marry him. Joe had snapped the picture. He must have sent an enlargement to her parents.
Dynah set her suitcases down, then picked up the ornate brass frame and looked at Ethan. He was smiling, his arm around her shoulders, looking proud and confident and happy. Their entire relationship flashed before her mind like a film on fast-forward. The man of her dreams. Her knight in shining armor. Remembering the way Ethan had looked the last time she saw him, she closed her eyes. She had seen hurt and anger in his eyes in that unguarded moment. And she had seen something else, something that had torn her heart. Relief.
Oh, Lord, Lord, what have You done to me?
I HAVE TORN THAT I MIGHT HEAL.
Are You really so cruel and arbitrary? Inflicting wounds and then healing? For what? Why?
Opening her eyes, she stared at Ethan’s smiling face, his hand firm upon her shoulder as though she were some kind of trophy he had won. He seemed to mock her. As God was mocking her.