A Searching Heart (9 page)

“She needs to catch her train, Mama.”

Belinda hurried into the kitchen to say good-bye to Jenny and wish her well. Virginia watched as she gave the girl a warm hug and remembered with a lump in her throat how her mother had filled in for Jenny's mother over the years.

“I'm going to walk with her to the station,” Virginia said to Belinda.

Virginia watched her mother dab at her cheek, a look of motherly concern shadowing her eyes. She knew that her mother's prayers would follow Jenny to the distant campus. It made her own heart ache just a little bit.

Virginia did not stop for a wrap since the late afternoon was warm, with only a slight wind blowing.

They were not even out the door before Jenny's excited chatter began. “And Pa said to go ahead and do my own shopping. So I did. Not here, of course. I took the train into the city and, boy, did I shop. You should see all the things I bought. I wanted to show them to you but there wasn't time. I was so anxious to get them packed when Pa agreed that I could go early—I never thought I'd ever be able to talk him into it—so I had to quickly throw things into the cases before he changed his mind. I might have to take a hotel for a couple of nights. The dormitories aren't even open yet. But that will be fun. I've never stayed in a hotel alone before. Have you?”

Before Virginia could even shake her head, Jenny was hurrying on. “I sure hope my roommate turns out to be fun. I'd hate to be stuck with some small-town prude who doesn't even know—”

“Like me?”

Jenny looked just a bit sheepish, then nodded and kept right on. “We were friends in a small town, Virginia. It worked here. I'm not sure it would work at college. I mean, things are different there. Things are moving. Here, everything is d-e-a-d. Dead!”

Virginia was shocked that Jenny could discard their years of friendship so casually.
And she used the past tense. We were friends. If this is how she feels
, Virginia found herself wondering,
why in the world did she come get me to walk her to the station?

But Jenny was still talking. “The skirt is the most gorgeous material. I'm sure if Pa saw it he'd think it on the short side, but skirts are getting shorter now. No more of this covering up the ankles. When I was in the city—wow—I couldn't believe how far behind we are in fashions.

“This one shirtwaist I bought. You should see it. It is the most gorgeous shade of green.”

Virginia wondered if everything Jenny had purchased was gorgeous.

“Really makes my hair look—well—frankly, like burnished copper. Gorgeous! It's fantastic. Even the saleslady said so. Then I got this evening dress for going out that's this gorgeous shade of blue, with a shaped bodice. I mean—really shaped.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “And the material is real clingy and you should see it. Even I feel daring—”

A car went by and honked the horn. Virginia recognized the driver as a new fellow in the area. He leaned on the horn again and honked long and loudly, then waved his hat in the air as he passed. Jenny squealed and waved back. Virginia frowned and fanned the dust from her face.

“I wish he would have stopped,” said Jenny. “I could have told him that I'm going today.”

“Have you said good-bye to your father, or do you need to stop by the paper?” Virginia asked, shaking her skirt to dislodge the settling dust.

Jenny looked at her as though she had lost her senses.

“He knows I'm going. He bought my ticket.”

“But have you . . . ?”

Jenny gave her a withering look. “We don't say good-byes, Virginia. That is sentimental tripe.”

Virginia could not imagine leaving home without a family good-bye.

“And this other dress,” Jenny rambled on, “is a cream color. You remember how good I look in cream? It's sleeveless, with a scooped neck and a slightly flared skirt.”

Sleeveless. Fitted. Shorter. Scooped. Clingy. Virginia could not believe her ears. What was the world of fashion coming to?

“Did you buy anything for classroom wear?” she asked, just a hint of sarcasm edging her voice.

“Oh, Virginia. You are such a prude. Of course I bought clothes for classroom wear, if you must know. But they really aren't very exciting to talk about, are they?”

And suddenly Virginia knew why she had been invited to accompany Jenny to the train. Jenny was about to explode with the excitement of her new purchases. Her new life. And she had no one to share it with. No one, that is, except for her old, now discarded, old-fashioned, prudish friend of her school days.

Virginia was tempted to turn around on the spot and go home.

She quickly pushed aside her disappointment and anger. In her own way, Jenny did need her. Maybe when Jenny got to her college, she would forget that they had ever been friends. That Virginia Simpson even existed. But Virginia had no intention of forgetting Jenny. She would pray for her every day.

———

Jenny even allowed a quick hug. Virginia was surprised at her brief moment of clinging. “Good-bye, Virginia. Thanks for standing by me all these years,” she whispered to Virginia's unbelieving ears. “I'm sorry you can't go to college. Really.”

There was no use for her to ask Jenny to write. Jenny had already made it quite clear that she expected to have no time for writing letters. “Take care,” Virginia said instead. “I'll miss you. And I'll pray for you.”

Jenny withdrew from the embrace and gave Virginia a half-teasing, half-reproachful look. “Don't waste your prayers, Virginia. I don't plan to spend my time in the local pews.”

And then she was gone in a flash of green skirt and bright red hair.

Virginia found herself crying. She wasn't sure why. Was it because Jenny was leaving? Because she, herself, was not? Or because Jenny had, with such firmness and finality, dismissed any interest in the faith she had tried to share for so many years? Maybe it was all those things.

Virginia turned away, wiping her eyes on the hankie she pulled from her pocket.

“Virginia.”

The call of her name spun her back around. She could not trust her ears, but it had sounded so much like Jamison.

And there he was. Standing on the platform, his arms held out to her. Dumbstruck, she could not move. Just stood and stared, fresh tears spilling unheeded down her cheeks.

He moved quickly toward her, speaking her name again. “How did you know I was coming?” he asked. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

It really was Jamison. Virginia blinked and gave her head a quick shake to clear away the confusion. “I . . . I didn't. I never thought—I mean, classes start in a few days. I never—”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I came to see Jenny off. She just left for college. On this train.”

She still had not moved. Her feet seemed bolted to the wooden platform.

He reached for her and looked deep into her eyes. “If we weren't out in public I'd . . .”

Virginia smiled through her tears but shook her head. Half of the town population seemed to hang around the railroad station. There would be no kiss in public. But she did move into his embrace for a warm hug.

“Why are you home?” she asked when she could speak.

He leaned back and looked at her. “Do you really need to ask? I just got a letter from my girl that she won't be joining me. I've waited all summer for you to come, and now . . . Well, I decided to take a few days and come home before classes start. I had to see you. I get really lonesome, my Virginia.”

Virginia closed her eyes and leaned against him. She felt his hand on her hair. “I get lonesome, too” was all she was able to say.

CHAPTER 7

V
irginia and Jamison sat on the Simpsons' back porch trying to catch up on all of the details of the summer that had not been shared through letters.

“I feel really good about our chances for the championship this year,” Jamison was saying. “A number of the fellows stayed close enough so we could keep on playing. 'Course there were those who had to go home for jobs, but those of us who could get jobs in the city spent almost every night practicing. A couple on defense had shift jobs, so they couldn't always join us, but we got in a lot of practice time anyway. Even came up with a few plays we think will impress our coach. Can't wait to show him.”

Virginia smiled. She still couldn't believe that he was actually home, beside her on her own porch swing.

“You'll do well, I just know you will,” she assured him.

He squeezed the small hand he was holding.

“You know,” he said. “I really could've used you in the stands. Your confidence would be a real boost.”

“I'll be cheering you on from here,” she promised. “Honest.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Well, that isn't what I would have preferred, but I guess it will have to do.”

“How is your church group? Any interesting discussions lately?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Well, I've missed a few Sundays because of work and practice and all, but . . . yeah. We've had some real interesting discussions. Wild debates at times.”

Virginia waited for him to go on.

“What do you think it means to be without sin?” he asked finally.

“Sinless?”

“Yeah. Sinless. Like in First John Three. ‘Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin,' and all those other verses. That kind of thing. How would you interpret that?”

“I don't know. I've never thought much about it. What possible ways can you interpret it—except just as it is? Without sin.”

“And how can a human be without sin? What is sin? What would you put on the list?”

Virginia shrugged. She was no theologian. “Well,” she began somewhat tentatively, “disobedience. I'd say that if you went against something that Scripture says—that God has commanded—you'd be sinning. Like lying, cheating, murder-ing—all those things.”

“That's what I've always thought.”

“So . . .” Virginia pressed, “does someone else think it means something different?”

He shifted slightly. “Yeah. Well, sort of. Several people. We had quite a discussion about it.”

Virginia turned to him. “How can they argue about that?”

“Some said that those actions are not wrong if they don't hurt someone else.”

“But sin always hurts someone else,” Virginia reasoned.

“Not always. Say, for instance, I lie. Not to cover up anything or put down someone else—just lie.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don't know. I was just using a ‘for instance.' ” He stood and walked to the edge of the porch and stared out over the yard.

Virginia shrugged again. “Okay,” she agreed.

“So . . .” “So some people think,” he said, turning to look at her, “that as long as you don't directly hurt someone with the lie, it's not wrong.”

“Directly?”

“Yeah.”

“How directly?”

“I don't know. It's just an example.”

“I'm not trying to be difficult,” Virginia said. “It's just that I don't see why anyone would lie if it didn't either protect or advance him in some way. And if it does, it's false. Wrong.”

“But what if you lie to protect someone else?”

This was getting tougher. Virginia thought for a moment.

“It would still be wrong,” she concluded.

“That's what I've always thought,” agreed Jamison.

“And others don't think so—in your group, I mean?”

“Some of them say that there's nothing wrong unless it was intended to hurt someone else. Build your own case, or something. They feel that way about cheating, too.” “Cheating?” “Yeah—on papers and tests and things. They say as long as it doesn't hurt the other guy, it's not sin.”

“But it does hurt the other guy. He has to compete against you for grades. If his grades are deserved, and yours aren't, he has had an unfair disadvantage.”

“But they argue that he has the freedom to cheat, as well, and if he doesn't do it, then it's his own choice.”

Virginia stared at Jamison in bewilderment. “And these people are in your church group?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded and then was silent for many minutes. Virginia wondered if her comment might have offended him. She was about to try to make amends when he spoke again.

“They really have dived in, so to speak. They discuss lots of things.”

“Like?”

“Like whether God really did create the world, and was it the way it's presented in the Genesis account?” Jamison rejoined her on the porch swing. “Is Jesus really God, a created being, a special prophet, or just a good man? Is it possible to have a triune God—three persons in one? After all, the Bible does not use the word
Trinity
. Is there a real heaven somewhere or do we make our own heaven or hell here on earth?”

“But the Bible is clear on all those things,” Virginia argued. “Do they honestly think they can pick and choose what to believe?”

“We all have free choice, Virginia.”

It was a sobering thought, but it was true. Jenny certainly had, to date, made her own choices.

“Does this disturb you?” he went on after a moment of silence.

“Well . . . yes . . . I guess it does. I mean, it wouldn't disturb me so much if this was . . . was just fellows talking in the dormitory. But a Christian church group. How can they call themselves Christians and not have settled those issues? I guess I just don't understand it.”

“I reacted the same way at first.”

“And now?”

He was slow in answering. “Now I think . . . I don't know. We do have to be open to other points of view. We have to be willing to explore other possibilities. Discuss things. If we don't know what our faith is all about, how can we ever be sure of what we believe?”