Free Stepping Into Sunlight by Sharon Hinck

right way. I think. There was a barber for chickens. There it is.”
    “A barber for—? Oh, I gotcha. Cheep. For a minute there I was going to take you back to the mission for a little casting out of evil spirits.”
    I pulled my arm away from her.
    She grinned. “Kidding. So, seriously, are you feeling any better?”
    “I’m fine. Sorry. I’ve been getting over the flu or something. I hate to cause you so much trouble.”
    “Child, I get up each morning and ask God to give me someone to serve. You aren’t trouble. You’re my answer to prayer.”
    The peace in her voice made me ache. Like stretching on tiptoe for a high shelf, I could almost remember what it felt like to ask God for people to serve—instead of spending my day wishing the world would go away. Almost. “The least of these,” I murmured.
    “Hmm?”
    “ ‘Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ ”
    Lydia beamed. “Exactly. That’s what I’m talking about.”
    When we reached the corner of my block, I was breathing more evenly. “You must think I’m nuts. I . . . A few weeks ago, I was at a store that got robbed.” The restricting band around my lungs relaxed its grip by a centimeter, and I drew in a deep draught of air. Speaking the words hadn’t disintegrated me. “I’m still a little . . . I haven’t quite gotten over it yet.”
    “Well, if that don’t beat all.” Without breaking stride, Lydia reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a rubber-banded stack of assorted business cards. She pulled one out and handed it to me. “One of the women that comes to our Wednesday night worship is a crime victim. She’s been getting some good help at this place.”
    I pulled to a stop in front of my house and took the card. Victim Support Services. I swallowed a laugh. Was God trying to tell me something?
    “Yoo-hoo.” Laura-Beth shot from her lawn chair and scooted toward us. Her dog gave a halfhearted woof and resettled himself in his patch of dirt. My neighbor leaned on her chain-link fence and gave Lydia an assessing stare. “Howdy.”
    Lydia crossed her arms, gaze traveling over Laura-Beth’s frowzy hair and wrinkled blouse.
    “Lydia, this is Laura-Beth, my neighbor. Laura-Beth, Lydia works at the mission a few blocks from here.”
    Laura-Beth took a step back and held her hands up. “I gave at the office.”
    Lydia ignored that. “I better get back before Barney makes a mess of things. You come by and visit anytime.” She smiled at Laura-Beth. “You too.”
    “Thanks for your help.” I held up the card. “And for this. I’ll look into it.”
    Lydia smiled and marched back up the block, clearly ready to bring order and spiritual life to the neighborhood.
    Laura-Beth shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind a piece of advice—”
    “Oops, I think I hear the phone.” I had the ringer turned off, but Laura-Beth didn’t know that. I raced into the house and latched the door firmly. My greatest fear was happening. I was going completely insane. I couldn’t venture a few blocks from home without a disaster. Terrified by skateboarding teens? Getting lost? I tried to laugh at my misadventure. Tears began to escape, and soon I was laughing and sobbing at the same time. I sank to the floor and leaned against the door, hugging my shins.
    Oh, God. It’s getting worse. How am I going to take care of Bryan? I almost didn’t get home before his bus. And he’s counting on me to help with the school play. And Tom needs to know I’m doing fine, so he can concentrate on his work. He’s dreamed of this for years.
    My yellow notebook rested on the coffee table. Penny’s Project. This was one project I couldn’t fail. The stakes were too high. If I kept slipping away I’d lose everything.
    Like Alex had.
    Oh, God. Am I going to turn into my brother?
    Huddled on the floor, I pressed my forehead against my knees, shutting out that thought. How long could I play Hans Brinker and plug