Authors: Terri Blackstock
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Suspense, #ebook
Chapter Twenty-Four
T
he Louisiana sun was on stage the day of the preview, glowing hot and magnificent in a cobalt sky. Though Hands Across the Sea had not yet been rebuilt, most of the rides were operative after grueling weeks of around-the-clock work, and more than two hundred fifty press people had been flown in for a firsthand impression of the phenomenon that was Promised Land. From the lifelike performances of ancient Bible characters in the Hall of Faith to the whale rides that took people to the underwater city, the magic followed the visitors, enchanting and delighting them more with each step. Even the unfinished rides were toured so that the media could get some idea of the fantasies yet to be tapped. And Downtown, Planet Earth, the main strip of shops through the rides, captivated everyone with souvenirs and toys of the soon-to-be-famous cartoon characters who romped the park in costume, stopping to pose for snapshots between shenanigans especially choreographed and rehearsed to look spontaneous. Live music provided the transitions from one theme area to the next, and every three hours a parade with all the Promised Land characters and the special uniformed praise band danced down the winding maze of sidewalks.
Andi seemed to be everywhere at once, making certain that her trained employees had no problems and ironing out last-minute mini-catastrophes as they presented themselves. It was working, she thought with a slight shiver, though the midafternoon sun blazed onto her tanned skin. The press people were enthralled, and by tomorrow the whole world would be buzzing with talk about this special kingdom.
Leaning on the rail of the bridge that arched over the “ocean,” Andi watched the robotic whales disappear beneath her. A feeling of bursting delight rose within her as she anticipated that group’s reaction when they saw the aqua magic. There were few things more gratifying than taking an idea and turning it into something that other people could see. She would have given anything to have her father beside her to experience it. She thanked God she had Justin.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice said in her ear as two strong arms slipped around her waist. “Are you one of the clones of Andi Sherman that have been running around here, or the real thing?” Andi smiled and caught her breath as Justin dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. “Mmmm. Has to be the real thing,” he murmured in a lazy voice.
Andi leaned back against his chest. “Sounds like a good idea, though,” she sighed. “Maybe we could have a few robots made up of me to take care of some of the minor problems around here.”
Justin’s deep laughter vibrated through her. “You’d be bored stiff. Besides, there’s no way they could capture that spirit of yours in a bundle of machinery.”
It was Andi’s turn to laugh. “I don’t know how to take that.”
Justin stepped to her side and braced himself on the rail as he grinned wryly. “I wouldn’t take orders from a robot.”
Andi gave a dry laugh. “You don’t take orders from me.”
Justin shrugged. “But it’s a lot more fun saying no to you than it would be to a robot.” Tipping her chin up, he grinned down at her.
Andi reached up to trace his bottom lip with her fingertip.
Taking her hand in both of his, he fondled it, running his thumb along the palm, creating a stirring sensation that heated her blood. “I’ve always known you were something special,” he said in a husky voice as a gust of wind swept back her long curls. “But today, I’ve decided you’re a genius.”
Andi smiled and gave a slight shrug. “No genius,” she said. “I just have a lot of faith.”
Justin took in the view around him as he continued holding her hand. “But that kind of faith isn’t always easy.”
Andi was uncomfortable with such bold praise and shrugged it off again. “I had a lot of help.”
“But they were your dreams. God gave them to you, and you had the boldness to carry them out.”
“Mine and Dad’s.” Her limpid green eyes sparkled as they swept over the jutting, colorful buildings and listened to the delightful laughter of overworked journalists who were clearly enjoying themselves. A bell rang in the distance, warning that the FanTran was about to make its first test run of the day, though no passengers were aboard due to the unfinished tunnels it threaded through.
“I never understood that about you when we were together in college,” Justin went on softly, setting her hand on the rail and leaning next to her on his elbows. His voice drew her into a different dimension. “I used to think that your dreams and your striving to make them come true was just a characteristic of someone who’d always gotten everything she wanted. But it isn’t so.”
Andi dropped her eyes to her hands smoothing over the finely sanded wood. “No, it isn’t.”
“It took me all this time to realize that your dream is a measure of your potential. That sparkle in your eye means that big things are going to happen. That God has a special plan.”
Andi breathed out a long sigh and smiled over at him. “Is this a brand-new observation?”
“No,” he said softly. “It’s an exaltation. I’m going to marry a woman with dreams as big as I have.”
Andi touched his face and, looking up into eyes that could always embrace her heart, she smiled.
Justin slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer as the FanTran picked up speed on the curve over the Jonah ride. “So, when are you gonna marry me? I’ve waited patiently while we got ready for Press Day. But we should really make an announcement today. Just to top things off.”
Excitement filled her eyes. “All right. Why don’t we tell them we’re getting married on Opening Day? We’ll have the ceremony right here in the park.”
“I love it,” he said. “I love you …”
A deafening crash cut off his words, vibrating thunder with all the sound and fury of an earthquake, tearing their attention to the unfinished side of the park.
“The FanTran!” someone shouted, and Andi began to run blindly, like a mother running to move her child from the path of a speeding car, but when she reached the accident, she saw that it was too late. The train had jumped the track and crashed headfirst into one of the unfinished buildings below it, but its caboose and long center cars still inched along the rails, slowly promising a second crash that would destroy at least two other buildings.
“Get back!” Andi shouted as the spectators around her froze for a soundless eternity, bracing themselves for the second fall as if their very breath could be the catalyst that sent it hurling to the ground. When the caboose at last let go, it seemed to fall in a slow-motion dance, mocking the helplessness of those who cared, as the train crashed into crumbling roofs in ruinous defiance of the dreams beneath them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A
ndi sat curled on the corner of her bedroom windowsill, watching the progress of two robins constructing a nest with fluttering diligence in a tree below her window. From the doorway, Justin watched her, wondering why they absorbed her attention so completely. Did they provide a sort of mental anesthesia that prevented her from glancing beyond the tree to the sight of the cranes struggling to pull the FanTran from the wreckage? The press was having a field day, reporting “on-the-scene” coverage of the disaster that could have taken hundreds of lives had the park been open to the public. There was speculation that the problems with the FanTran had been the reason that Andi had not let the visitors ride it, but that her “gambling” nature had caused her to take the chance and let it run anyway.
But she wasn’t watching the wreckage. She was concentrating on watching the birds, as if seeing some other creature building something worthwhile would enable her to hold herself together for a while longer.
Justin went into her bedroom, a glass of water in one hand and two aspirin in the other. “Take these,” he ordered, dropping them into her hand. “It’ll help your headache.” She took the aspirin gratefully and drank by rote.
“Are you okay?” Justin asked, his deep, probing voice piercing her cocoon of irrelevant thoughts.
“Fine,” she said, slipping away before he could touch her. Guardedly, she folded her arms across her stomach as her psyche threatened to crumble.
Justin watched Andi bring the glass to her lips again, the water sloshing dangerously with the movement of her trembling hands. Her hair, though rumpled from her fingers pushing absently through it, was still curled and shining over her shoulders, and the light overhead gave it the dazzling effect of burnished golden threads that had never seen dark days. But her jade eyes were haunted and hiding, and her face was pale, reflecting the turmoil within her that he had no idea how to calm.
“It’ll be all right,” he said softly, helplessly. “It might delay the opening a couple of months, but—”
“There isn’t going to be an opening,” Andi said in a hopeless monotone. “Promised Land is going to be an enormous white elephant. Even if I had the money to rebuild, which I don’t, no one in his right mind would risk coming here now.”
Rolling up his cuffs to busy his hands, Justin tried again. “I know it seems bad right now. But you’ve got to fight back. You can’t let a thing like this get you down.”
His unconvincing pep talk struck her as funny, but her laughter did not hide the gravity beneath it. “A thing like this?” She leaned toward him as if the stance would help to make her point. “Justin, the earth might as well have crumbled underneath us and swallowed the whole park. It’s over. I should have seen it a long time ago. It’s not genius you’ve been seeing in me—it’s stupidity! None of this was God’s plan. I misread him. It was
my
plan.” Her eyes filled with angry tears and she struggled against them, covering her face with her hands.
Swallowing back his own emotion at her pain, Justin took her by the arms and forced her to look at him. Her face was raging red as she dropped her hands and clutched his forearms as if they could anchor her. “It was not stupid,” he said. “You saw those people out there today. They loved Promised Land, and you know it.”
“Sure,” Andi cried, glaring up at him, desperately in need of someone to bear the daggers of her anger. “They loved it! They’re still loving it! Look at them out there with their camera crews and microphones. Everybody loves a good horror! Too bad you can only give the show once!”
“No one was hurt, Andi!”
“But what about next time?” she railed. “How many people will be killed in the next disaster? Even if the public could forget about all this,
I
never will!” She slammed the glass down and turned around, trying to find the words she needed. “I tried to watch everything. Make sure that nothing went wrong. I inspected everything over and over. But I can’t know everything, and I can’t be everywhere!”
Justin tucked her against him, though she struggled to pull away, and held her still until her racking, furious sobs calmed a few degrees. There were no answers. He had no great morsel of wisdom to offer, no burst of inspiration that would see her through this. The realization of his inadequacies left him furious at himself.
“You’ve been through a lot,” he whispered, rocking her back and forth as her body relaxed into him.
Andi nodded. “I should have given up when Dad had his accident. Everyone warned me to. I could have gotten out and no one would have blamed me. I should have known I couldn’t
be
him. This would never have happened if he’d been running things. But I just wanted him to be proud of me when he came to! So I hung on, faking my way through all of it, pretending, even to myself, that I could do anything.”
“You
can
do anything,” he said with deepest certainty, pulling her down to sit next to him on the small love seat against the wall. “But you couldn’t have stopped this. You’re one person. I’ve never seen a president of a company so involved on every level. Your father was proud of you and he knew you were as capable as he was, or he would never have left you in charge.”
His words seemed to relax her more, so he closed his arms more tightly around her and went on in his deep, comforting baritone, realizing she needed the truth, realizing she needed his love. “That’s probably why he fought our relationship so hard. He knew you were too good for me. He knew I was just a lousy bum who didn’t appreciate what a precious treasure you were. And at the time, he was right.”
The memory of her father’s love for her racked her even deeper, and she wept into his chest, clutching the edge of his shirt as she groped for some means of control.
“Tell me what your father would have done differently to prevent today’s accident,” Justin prodded.
“I don’t know,” she cried in a strained voice. “But he would have known. He knew so much more than I did. I overlooked something. I ignored something.”
“Wrong,” Justin said, pulling her back so that he could see her wild, red-rimmed eyes. “Even the engineers who designed the FanTran didn’t see it. You said yourself you have some of the best minds in the world working for you. It’ll be okay. You can rebuild these rides, perfect the FanTran … We’ll think of a way to clear our image.”
“There’s no time,” Andi said in a hoarse voice. “The country’s going to get tired of these conflicting signals. We’d have to suffer through months, maybe years, of no profits at all before people started to come. And I can’t rebuild these rides. There was too much damage. I’ve made a mockery out of the whole idea that this was a God-centered park.”
“You haven’t made it a mockery. You’re rebuilding Hands Across the Sea, aren’t you?”
Andi pulled out of his arms and stood up. “You don’t understand, Justin. I’m not talking about construction capabilities and the strength of a dream. I’m talking about money. I simply don’t have the money if the park isn’t going to open! I only have enough to get us through construction and the first year until we start seeing a profit. But no one will come now. There won’t be any profits, and there’s no more in the budget for rebuilding.”
“You can borrow it. Surely—”
“I can’t borrow any more,” she bit out, turning back to him. “I told you. I’ve used all my Sherman Enterprises stock as collateral for the loans I’ve already gotten. There’s very little left, and no bank in the world is going to loan me money after this. I won’t be able to pay it back. I’m going bankrupt, Justin. There’s no other alternative.”
“Yes, there is,” Justin demurred with a gentle shake of her arm. “You still have half of Pierce Productions. My company is worth a lot more now than it was. And if your fifty percent isn’t enough collateral, I could borrow on my half and help.”
“I’d never let you do that,” she whispered, turning away from him. “This is not your problem, it’s mine.”
“You’re going to be my wife.” He forced her to face him again. “That makes it my problem.”
Andi couldn’t stop the peal of laughter bursting through her sobs. “Your wife? I can’t marry you now!”
Not willing to accept a decision made during hysteria, Justin framed her face and tipped it up to his. “Yes, you can. This thing today has nothing to do with us or our future together.”
“It does,” she cried. “Don’t you see? I can’t marry you now. I have nothing left. Nothing!”
“You have me! And we both have Pierce Productions. I’ll help you through this.”
“You’re always helping me through catastrophes lately, Justin!” she shouted in a frazzled pitch. “I can’t go through life leaning on you!”
“I like for you to lean on me,” he said earnestly. “That’s why God wants us to have helpmeets. So we can help each other.”
“But I can’t, Justin!” Her face burned hot with conviction. “That’s why we never made it before. I had money, big ideas, and big dreams. I had energy and drive, and it made you crazy. If I had been poor and ordinary we might have stayed together. It’s no wonder that you want me now. You’ve got me right where you’ve always wanted me!”
Justin turned to the dresser, leaning on his hands, and forced his eyes on the forgotten glass of water. “I never said I wanted you to be those things,” he bit out in a tremulous voice, trying to keep her condition in mind. “I asked you to marry me
before
the FanTran crashed. I told you that I understood my mistakes. I love you just the way you are, Andi. Don’t ruin it.”
Andi’s fingernails bit into her palms as she brought her fists to her temples. “You can’t love me the way I am when I don’t even
know
who I am anymore. I just know I can’t start off a marriage trying to find myself, trying to pick up the pieces and patch things back together.” She stopped and looked at him, his back to her, his muscles coiled and poised for the coming blow. “It won’t work, Justin,” she said, trying to keep the despair from her voice. “I’m not going to marry you.”
The glass beside his hand went flying across the room. It crashed on the wall and splintered to the floor, leaving behind it only a dripping wet stain on the wallpaper. “Give it up, then!” he blared as Andi turned her back to him and muffled her sob with her fists. “It’s you who has to have everything perfect, Andi. You’re fine as long as you’re in control, as long as you’re the one with the money and the strings and the ideas. But lose a few notches on that pedestal of yours, and everybody else had better look out. You’d rather go under than accept my help, wouldn’t you? You’d rather live alone the rest of your life than marry someone who wants to protect you.” His voice softened with emotion as he stepped up behind her, the warmth of his body radiating into her, though he refrained from touching her. “That first day I came to your office to hear your proposal, you told me that it was always easier to settle for something instead of fighting and trying to make it work. You were right.” His hands touched the backs of her shoulders and he dropped his forehead into her hair. “Marry me, Andi,” he pleaded in a tremulous voice. “We can make it. If we throw it out this time, we’ll never get it back. It’ll be lost to us forever.”
“It’s already lost,” she whispered.
Justin dropped his hands and stepped back, and she forced herself to stand still and not look at him. “As long as I’ve known you,” he said in a flat, bland voice, “you’ve fought through every crisis in your life. But you won’t fight for me. Well, maybe you don’t consider losing me a crisis.”
Silent, she stayed where she was, her back to him.
“That’s right, Andi,” Justin bit out. “Don’t say anything. Let me just keep thinking that you still love me in your way. It’ll help at night when I’m racking my brain trying to figure this insanity out.” He started out of the room, his heart shattering like broken glass. “I love you anyway, Andi,” he said in a strange, thick voice.
And then he was gone, leaving behind only a sick, throbbing void where hope had been.
I
t was two hours before Andi felt she had no more tears to shed, and then she forced herself to pull together and consider the steps that had to be taken. Like the preparations for a funeral, arrangements had to be made to put an end to Promised Land. Padding barefoot into her kitchen, Andi poured herself a drink, then reached into her freezer for a handful of ice cubes. Breathing a deep, cleansing sigh, she dropped all but two into her glass and pressed the two remaining ones against her swollen eyes. The park was gone, she thought, trying to get her priorities in order. There was no sense in mourning it anymore. She would do what had to be done and get it behind her as soon as possible.
The way she had done with Justin.
She thought of his offer to help her financially. The ironies of life would never cease to amaze her. They had completely switched positions. Now he was the one succeeding and executing dreams, and she would soon be penniless.
For the first time in her life she understood why he had been so resisting of her help before. It hurt to ask someone you loved for help. But it also hurt to want to help someone you loved and be denied that privilege. There was no winning between them. They were too much alike.
Berating herself for being as proud and stubborn as he had once been, she walked back to her bedroom window and saw the sun beginning to set in the west. The crowd of reporters still circled around the wreckage like vultures, waiting for any morsel of information they could glean. They were so fickle, she thought with misery. This morning they had been her hailing followers, and tonight they would do her in.
What are you trying to teach me, Lord?
her mind cried out.
What is it that I’m not learning?
Something about pride, she told herself. She had confessed it time and time again, had pleaded with God to change her, but here it was, still driving her. The memory of Justin’s voice when he’d left her today, letting her know that she could still change her mind, rang through her heart. He did love her, and God knew she loved him. But was her pride really going to cost her everything? Wasn’t she strong enough to keep from emotionally dragging him down if they stayed together?