Free Luminary by Krista McGee

John prays at all times. I wait as he finishes. He opens his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. “It is James. The Designer is impressing upon me to pray for him. God is not through with my son.”
    I want to ask how he knows that, what he means, but John is looking at something else, something beyond me. I turn to see Berk limping toward us. “I think I’d better head back. I’ll see you later.”
    I am suddenly sick to my stomach. I don’t know what to say to Berk. I am afraid of what he will say. Afraid to hear he has developed feelings for Rhen. Truthfully, he and Rhen are better suited for each other than he and I. She is logical, careful. And now she seems to be developing abnormal feelings. But not completely abnormal, like mine. She doesn’t lose control and cry or question or get angry. She is just softer and kinder. Berk deserves someone like her. She is better than me in every way.
    John pauses to whisper something in Berk’s ear. Berk nods but he doesn’t smile. I cannot identify the look in his eyes, but I do not like it. It makes me uncomfortable. Nervous. He keeps walking toward me. I didn’t even notice when I stood and turned around. I cannot think clearly where Berk is concerned.
    “Thalli.” He is standing in front of me, his gaze locked on mine. “It is time to talk.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    I do not like the way he said that. His eyes weren’t soft. His voice wasn’t gentle. He seemed more like “Dr. Berk” than the Berk I have come to know.
    “Can we walk a little?” His voice is higher pitched than normal. It is not the smooth melody of a trombone, but the pinched tone of a French horn. He is still limping, his leg not completely healed from the attack.
    “Have you seen the healer yet?”
    “Not yet.” He looks ahead, the silence between us almost tangible. He seems to know where we are going. His legs are longer than mine, so even with his injury, I struggle to keep up.Now as I walk, I look everywhere. I need my mind to be occupied with something else—anything else.
    I walk past a faded blue pod with pieces of cut trees on parts of the top. The window fabric is pulled back, and I see a living area with a variety of furniture. I stop to look closer. I cannot help myself. The fabrics remind me of John’s room: colorful, patterned, aged. Learning pads appear to be everywhere, but that cannot be. There is no technology here. No electricity. These pads are still. Just pictures. But pictures of what I assume are families. I am still uncomfortable with that thought. John told me about families, about marriage and children, but that is so different from the world of my experience.
    Berk has not stopped, and when I look for him, I see he is far ahead. I jog to keep up with him. He doesn’t look back at me. I look beyond him and see a hill. It is similar to the hill we walked over to arrive here, but this one has blue flowers all over it and the grass is thicker.
    Berk is at the top of the hill. He finally looks back and watches me as I climb to meet him.
    “Where are we?” I am breathing heavily. The hill is steeper than I expected.
    “Look.” Berk motions below. “A lake.”
    I see water. A lot of water. “A lake.” It is beautiful. The sun reflects off the ripples created by the wind. Leaves drift onto the surface and float along. Birds are flying overhead and cows are drinking at its banks. I have never seen anything like it. It is so much bigger than the pond John swam in when we first arrived.
    “Sit.”
    I sink into the grass, enjoying the feel of it between my fingers.
    “We haven’t spoken much lately.” Berk is still looking at the lake.
    “You have been busy.” I shrug. “And hurt.”
    “I am recovering well.” Berk states the obvious. Will our entire conversation be this uncomfortable?
    We are silent. Again. I know what he wants to say. And I know why he cannot bring himself to say it. “Berk, it’s all right. You and Rhen. I understand.” I don’t know how I got