The Saint(35)
“I want you to be counted among the sheep. As part of your community service, you’ll start a food bank at the church. We have a massive kitchen that only seems to get used for wedding receptions or baptisms. You’ll also work at church camp and visit the homeless at the shelter on Sixth Street.”
“Visit the homeless shelter?” She couldn’t quite keep the fear out of her voice. She’d heard bad stories from that shelter. Most of them involving drug addicts or alcoholics. Fights would break out. People would end up in the hospital.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll make sure you’re safe. Do you babysit?”
“Sometimes. Kids like me.”
“I can’t imagine anyone not liking you.”
She tried not to smile. She failed.
“I’ve spoken several times with your mother. She’ll keep you on your schedule and monitor your grades.”
“You talked to my mom?”
“She loves you. We’re going to work together to keep you out of trouble.”
Eleanor grimaced.
“What was that expression for?” Søren demanded.
“Sorry.” She sighed. “I like trouble.”
They had made one complete loop around the park, a quarter mile according to the sign. Søren led her away from the path and back toward the church. He paused in a clearing about fifteen yards from the back of the church and picked a stick up off the ground. The stick was about two feet tall and two inches thick. Søren shoved it deep into the soft moist soil.
“Your first act of service is this …” Søren said as he stood back up. “Every day for the next six months come rain, shine, snow, sleet, hail or hurricane, you will water this stick.”
Eleanor stared at the dead stick jutting up from the ground.
“It’s a stick.”
“I know it is.”
“It’s dead.”
“I realize that.”
“Watering it isn’t going to bring it back to life.”
“I realize that, as well.”
“But I’m supposed to water it?”
“It’s an order.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It is.”
“Are you going to tell me why I’m watering this stick?”
“I told you why. It’s an order.”
“No other reason?”
Søren stroked his bottom lip with his thumb. She never wanted to be a thumb so much in her life.
“That list of questions you wish to ask me that I can’t answer yet …”
“Yeah, what about them?”
“If you water this stick every single day without fail for six months, I’ll answer your questions.”
“You will? All of them?”
“Any question you have for me, no matter how personal or intrusive, I will answer it in six months if you water the stick every single day.”
Every single question? She couldn’t believe it. If he’d offered her a million dollars or the answers to all her questions, she’d pick the answers, hands down.
“So six months is …”
“The day after Thanksgiving,” Søren said. “Rather fitting. I’m sure you’ll be thankful to have finished your task.”
“Forget the stick, I want answers.”
“You’ll have them if you earn them,” he said.
“How will you know if I watered it or not?”
“I’ll know.”
“When do you think you’ll, you know, want to hold up your end of the bargain?” Eleanor tried to keep the nervousness from her voice. In exchange for her eternal obedience, Søren had promised her “everything.” Two months had passed since she’d spoken to him that night at the police station. Did he remember what he’d promised her?
“We shall discuss that part of our agreement when you’re finished watering the stick.”
“Great. I’ll water it right now.”
“I meant when you’re finished watering it … in six months.”
Søren left her standing there staring at the stick as he walked back to the church.
“Hey!” she shouted after him. “Six months?”
“Do as you’re told and we’ll discuss it in six months.”
Eleanor stared down at the stick and looked back up at Søren’s retreating form.
“I hate you!” she yelled after him.
“That stick won’t water itself,” he called back.
She looked back down at the stick in the ground.
“I hate you, too,” she said to the stick. And for good measure, kicked it.
After replanting and watering the now slightly shorter stick, she returned to the church, where Søren put her to work in the fellowship hall annex scrubbing the kitchen and cleaning out the pantries. He’d told her he would inspect her work when she’d finished. She wanted to make him proud of her.