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"Your Mummy likes laughing," Andrew whispered to Mandy timidly, "I

like her."
"I like her, too, and I'm glad she's my Mum," Mandy whispered back to
him.
"You look like her," was Helen's considered opinion, "and you talk like
her."
Halfway through the meal Helen walked up to Laura's bedside and asked
boldly, "Can I have a turn to feed you, too?"
James, Betty, and Emma had been taking turns helping Laura with her
meal. They all held their breath, waiting for Laura's reaction. She looked at
Carl, then at Emma, and both of them saw the laughter in her eyes, but she
kept a straight face as she then looked down at Helen. "Of course you may
have a turn, Helen," she said kindly, "I'd love you to help me eat my lunch.
But you'll have to go to the other side of the bed and climb up because
where you are you can't reach."
The little girl skipped over to the other side of the bed and Emma lifted
her up and sat her on the bed next to Laura. Then she handed her Laura's
dish and spoon.
"You ready?" Helen asked Laura.
"Yes, and I'm very hungry," Laura replied.
Helen scooped up some stew with the spoon and gently put it into
Laura's mouth. She gazed thoughtfully at Laura's face, then looked down at
her arms and hands. "Can't you move?" she asked Laura curiously.
Laura smiled. "No, Helen, I can't move at all, except for my head."
"Why not?" the child asked.
"I was very sick and the sickness stopped me being able to move," Laura
replied, "Have you ever seen a puppet with strings? You know, like a doll,
with strings on its arms and legs to make them move?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, it's as if I were a puppet that had all its strings cut off!" Laura
explained.
"Oh..." Helen thought this over. "Does it hurt?" she asked finally.
"No, it doesn't hurt at all," Laura replied.
"Oh, that's all right then," Helen decided, much to Laura's amusement.
The little girl was once again lost in thought for a moment.
"Helen—could I please have some more food?" Laura asked gently.
Helen started, looked down at the dish of stew and the spoon, and back
at Laura. "Sorry—I forgot," she said, and fed Laura another mouthful of
stew. She looked at the dish again. "Do you like it?" she asked.
Laura swallowed and nodded. "Yes, I do. Did you enjoy yours?"
"It was nice. I like the little green things in it. Do you want some more?"
"Yes, please."
After a few minutes Emma could see that Helen was tiring, and she went
over to her. "It's my turn, now," she said.
Helen handed her the dish and spoon. "My mummy will help you eat
now, Mrs. Winters," she said brightly. She knelt up on the bed and leaned
over to kiss Laura's cheek, then she slid down from the bed and skipped

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over to her brother, who was still sitting at the table. "Andrew, are you going
to have a turn, too?" she asked him.
Poor Andrew blushed and studied his dish and shook his head. "I'm still
eating..." he whispered.
Mandy, sitting next to him, put an arm around him and smiled. "You
don't have to, you know," she whispered to him, "Mum knows you like her
anyway. She's got plenty of helpers."
Helen laughed and hopped over to Carl. "Can I sit on your lap, Daddy?"
she piped.
For answer Carl pushed his chair back from the table, picked her up,
and sat her on his knee. She leant against him and gazed at Laura. Emma
was laughing at something Laura had said, and James, who had sat down
next to the bed, chuckled. Laura had a mischievous look on her face.
Helen wondered what had made them laugh. She looked up at her father,
and he smiled at her. "Looks like Mrs. Winters said something funny,
doesn't it?" he said.
"Laura is always cracking jokes," Betty, sitting next to him, said, "Hardly
a day goes by that she doesn't make me laugh at least once!"
"It's wonderful to be able to make people laugh," Carl said, "especially
when one is surrounded by a tense situation the way we are, here. We do
need to laugh, to be reminded that despite all the evil in the world we have
joy from the Lord."
"Daddy," Helen said suddenly, looking very serious, "Is Mummy pretty?"
Carl was taken aback by the question. He looked at Emma and tried to
see her objectively, but failed. To him, she had always been pretty—even
that first time she had been brought to his office in the Counselling Institute
he'd found himself thinking that if he had to be assigned a woman
counsellee, at least she was good-looking!
Well, he asked himself, is she? Do other people think her pretty? Does it
matter what other people think, anyway, as long as I find her attractive? He
looked down at Helen. "Why do you ask, Helen?"
"Because I wanna know!"
"What do you think?" he asked, "Do you think Mummy's pretty?"
"I asked first, Daddy," Helen answered.
Carl grinned at his daughter. "Helen," he said quietly, "I think that
Mummy is very pretty, especially when she's happy, which is most of the
time. And she's very, very beautiful on the inside."
Helen frowned. "How is she byoo-byoo— pretty on the inside, Daddy?"
she asked.
Carl hugged her. "She loves Jesus, Helen," he replied, "That makes her
beautiful. Do you understand what I mean?"
Helen thought this over. Her four-year-old mind was not used to
abstracts. She was puzzled. "Do you mean because Mummy is nice and she
makes people happy?"
"That's right," Carl replied.
Helen hopped off his knee and went back to Andrew at the table.
"Andrew, you know what? Daddy said Mummy is very pretty," she

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announced in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "and
even more pretty on the inside!"
Carl and Emma both flushed crimson and everyone else laughed. Helen
and Andrew both looked confused. Emma handed the dish and spoon to
James and went over to Helen. She squatted down and whispered in her
daughter's ear. "You can tell Andrew that Daddy shines in the dark," she
said.
"He does?" Helen exclaimed, turning to stare at Carl in astonishment.
"What did Mummy say?" Andrew asked, "What did she say? I wanna
know!"
Helen was still staring at Carl, who was looking at Emma suspiciously.
Andrew got up and repeated his question.
"Daddy shines in the dark..." Helen said dubiously.
Carl looked bewildered. All eyes were on him now.
"How does he do it, Mummy?" Andrew asked Emma, tugging at her dress.
"He lives for Jesus, Andrew. He's a light in the darkness for Jesus,"
Emma answered, smiling, "Do you remember the song you learned,

"Jesus wants us to be lights for Him

In the darkness of this world.
He calls us to shine out for Him,
Raising His banner high, unfurled."

"Oh," Andrew mumbled, looking disappointed.

Carl went over to Andrew and picked him up. "Did you want Daddy to
really shine in the dark, Andrew?" he asked gently.
"Mmmmm," Andrew responded, "Can you, Daddy?"
Helen looked quite perplexed, and Betty scolded Emma jokingly. "Now
look what you've done, Emma!" she said, trying to look fierce and not
succeeding, her laughter being too close to the surface, "Your poor children
are thoroughly confused!"
Emma, smiling, picked Helen up and went to Carl and Andrew. She
kissed Andrew on the cheek and hugged Helen. "I'm sorry, children," she
said, "Mummy was trying to tease Daddy and it backfired!"
"Emma," Laura cautioned, laughing, "It might be safer if you just don't
say anything for a little while—you're getting yourself into hot water!"
At that point everyone burst out laughing except the twins, who looked
quite bewildered. Carl put an arm around Emma and Helen. Emma was
laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, and she buried her face on his
shoulder, which was shaking from his own mirth. The twins wriggled out of
their parents' arms and moved away to a stiller spot.
"Why they laughing?" Andrew asked his sister.
"I dunno, maybe they said a joke?" she replied uncertainly.
The laughter gradually died down and they all sat grinning at each other.
Mandy brushed tears from her eyes. "It's wonderful to be able to laugh,
really laugh, at something funny but clean," she said, smiling at her
parents. She got up to wipe her mother's face, and gave her a hug and kiss.

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Carl was suddenly serious. He had seen the time. "I'm sorry to say that
we have to go," he said to James and Laura, "but we promised George we'd
be back at Henry's by now and we're still here. Thank you so much for
inviting us to lunch here. If this had been a so-called 'normal' meal situation
I don't think we'd have had such a good time."
"By the way," Emma said, "We would like you and George to meet. Could
we bring him around sometime?"
"Yes, of course, please do," James said, "As you know, Laura's always
home, and I'm home in the evenings. I'm glad you pointed out the time, Carl,
I have to get back to work!"
"You have some explaining to do to those children, Emma," Laura smiled
as Emma kissed her goodbye.
"Don't worry, I'll do my best to sort them out, Laura," Emma grinned.
"I'll help if I can," Carl added, "I have a feeling I'm the one who started the
confusion!"
"Perhaps you'll just have to find a way to shine in the dark, Carl," James
said mischievously, "Shed some light on the matter!"

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 CHAPTER 20

"As I see it," George said to Henry, Carl, and Emma as they sat in Henry's
lounge later that afternoon, "there are two main problems here—the disunity
and muddleheadedness of the believers, and the scoundrels who want to
bring back a Protectorate. From what you told me on the bus, Carl, and
from what you explained to me about Mandy and her friends, I gather some
pretty odd and awful things have been going on."
"I have some ideas about some of the things that have happened," Henry
said, "but I want to finish checking them out before I tell you what I'm
thinking."
"Something that is quite clear is that Lancaster and his mob took full
advantage of the downslide in the churches here," George continued, "It
suggests that they were keeping an eye on the churches here and noticed
that this town would be especially vulnerable. Of course they've probably
been keeping an eye on churches all over the country, perhaps even before
the fall of the Protectorate."
"What I find puzzling me is that Lancaster got out of gaol so quickly..."
Carl commented.
"Oh, it's not the first time in history that a fellow like him has managed
to wangle his way out of gaol!" George pointed out, "The fact is that he isn't
in gaol, and he has a lot of influence in this town. That's what we're facing
and what we have to do something about! Never mind how he got out."
"Which reminds me that I got a phone call from our friend Philip," Henry
said, "That's Ron Velasquez, but I think we all know him better as Philip—
and he told me that he's sending a couple of his men down tomorrow, and
he's planning to come here himself on Monday."
George's eyes lit up. "Well!" he said, "It'll be good to see him again—my
Aramaic's getting rusty!"
"I have a feeling he's coming down for something other than to practice
his Aramaic, George," Carl laughed, "but I'm sure he won't mind chatting
with you in your old code language!"
"To get back to our topic," Emma interrupted, "Do any of you have any
idea what we should do about Lancaster and co?"
"First of all," Carl said, "We must pray. About every step we take—make
sure it's the right one. For guidance—and then to stay alert. For
discernment. For protection. We must be on our guard, especially if we come
in contact with any of them." He sighed. "Philip's coming here because of
some items Henry and I noticed as we went through his old newspapers.
They seem to fit in with something Philip's been investigating. I expect his
investigations to have certain results, but I can't be completely sure, so I
won't say more about it at present."
"We need to get the believers back into gear and working together, not
against each other," Henry said, "and that's mainly the job of the church
leaders and elders."

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"From what they were telling me over lunch, Joel and Alice have been
busy over the last few days," George said, "Between the two of them they
contacted each of the churches via those whom they knew to be fair dinkum
believers in each one. They've organized a meeting—a prayer and worship
meeting—for Sunday afternoon, for those who want to turn back onto the
Right Road and re-commit themselves to abiding in Christ. And who want to
stand together in His name! Alice said they're going to ask you to preach,
Carl. I asked her if I was allowed to warn you about that, and she laughed."
"Did she say you could?" Emma asked.
"I assumed that's what she meant when she laughed," George smiled.
"I expect it was," Henry confirmed, "Who else could she ask but Carl,
after all? How do you feel about that, Carl?"
Carl looked thoughtful. "I'll have to pray about it," he said softly, "but I
have a feeling I will be preaching on Sunday. That's why I came to Goldridge
in the first place, after all. I just want to be sure it's what God wants me to
do, though."
"I have no doubts myself that you should preach at that meeting, Carl,"
Henry said, "but I agree that you should ask the Lord about it."
"To change the subject somewhat," George said, "Henry, you know that
Carl took me to that bookshop downtown this morning. With the twins'
disappearance, and then all of us going out for lunch, I haven't had a
chance to talk to you about it."
"What did you want to say?" Henry asked.
"Are you aware of the kind of books and CDs they sell there?" George
asked him.
"Yes..." Henry answered slowly.
"Is that what the believers in your church have been reading?"
"Yes, I'm sorry to have to admit it," Henry replied, "That's what we've
been studying, not just reading. And not just our church, either—all of the
churches. Until they all fell apart, that is."
"No wonder the Protectioners did what they wanted with you all..."
George said quietly, "You'd all been feeding on their kind of food!"
Henry was apparently studying the rug on the floor. He looked up at
George. "You're right, George," he said quietly, "And I not only let my flock
study those sorts of books, I even started using them in my sermon
preparations..."
"I would like to make some suggestions, if I may," George said tentatively.
"Please do so, George," Henry replied, "I need all the help I can get from
God-fearing people."
"One of the first things you should do is to get your people to read the
Bible—and only the Bible—as much as they can," George said, "Don't even
bring in the good books, the Scriptural ones, for some time. Concentrate on
the Bible. Start with Genesis and then Matthew's Gospel. And get back to
prayer—secret prayer especially, but also prayer as a group. Forget about
how-to books and self-help books—all of them! Jesus taught us how to pray.
We don't need to read about it more, we need to do it!"

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There was a knock at the door and Carl went to open it. Mandy Winters
stood on the front step. "Hello," she said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable
because it was Carl who had come to the door, "I told Mrs. Slade I'd come to
see her this afternoon..."
"Come in, Amanda," Carl said, "Emma's in here too."
She walked into the room and Emma came over to greet her. Mandy
pointed out to Henry that his door buzzer wasn't working. "Thanks, Mandy,"
he said, "I know. I disconnected it because the sound of it was getting to me
the other day, and then I decided that knocking is a more pleasant sound
for announcing one's presence at the front door, so I left it disconnected!"
"You said you'd like to talk to me, Amanda," Emma said, "Is that in
private?"
Mandy looked embarrassed. "Yes, please," she said, quietly.
"We can go out to the camper. The twins are asleep in there, but I don't
think we'll disturb them."
"They're out there by themselves?" Mandy asked in a frightened voice.
"Don't worry, Amanda," Carl said, "There's only one way into the camper,
and I've had my eye on it the whole time." He pointed through the window.
From where he sat, the door of the camper was clearly visible.
"Let's go out there," Emma said, leading the way. The two women went
out and walked over to the camper.
"Well, would you fellows like a cup of tea?" Henry asked Carl and George.
"I wouldn't mind one, thank you," George said, following Henry to the
kitchen.
"Good idea, yes please," Carl agreed, "We can continue our discussion
while you make it."

!!!

Emma and Mandy went into the camper and Mandy sat down on the end
of the double berth. Emma took a seat at the table and asked the girl what
she wanted to talk about. Mandy blushed and looked down. "Marriage," she
whispered.
"Oh," Emma said, "Do you mind if I ask you why you want to talk to me
about it? Why not your mother?"
"I've talked with Mum," Mandy answered, "and I also asked her if she
minded if I also talked to you. She said that was fine with her because she
was sure that you'd say much the same as her."
"Well, I hope she's right," Emma said, somewhat taken aback that Laura
should be so certain about her, "Okay, what do you want to ask about?"
Mandy decided to start with the question that was bothering her most,
although she had many other questions to ask. "Mrs. Slade," she asked
quietly, "Will I ever be able to marry after what I've done, d'you think?"
Emma considered the question for a few moments before answering.
"How old are you, Amanda?" she asked.
"Seventeen. Almost eighteen."

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"You're still very young... It might be years before the question really
comes up, you know."
"But would any man want a wife who's done the things I did?" Mandy
asked in a small voice.
Emma gazed at the girl thoughtfully. She sat down at the foot of the
double berth beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "If a man
loved you so that he wanted you to be his wife, I should think that by God's
grace he would be able to forgive all that and marry you."
"But I wouldn't want to let him know about it unless I knew he really
loved me! How could I know for sure that he loved me?"
"Let me answer that in this way," Emma said, "How would you know that
you really loved him?"
Mandy thought about this. "I guess if I really loved a man," she said
presently, "I'd respect him; I'd want to make him happy; I'd want to share
everything with him..."
"Yes, those are some of the ways we show love, that's right," Emma
agreed, "Now, how about if the man you loved had done some awful things
before he met you, or even after he met you?"
Mandy found this more difficult to consider. "I guess," she said
hesitantly, "if I really loved him I would forgive him those things and love
him for who he is, not who he was?"
"Yes, you would, Mandy," Emma said, "That's what true love does. I can
tell you that from my own experience."
"Mrs. Slade," Mandy said sadly, "Blue was my boyfriend. He said he loved
me. But now he avoids me, but I still love him!"
Ah—that's the problem, Emma thought, and her heart ached for Mandy.
She gave her a hug. "Amanda, try to see it from Blue's point of view," she
said gently, "He's probably very confused. His girlfriend has been involved in
something pretty horrendous, and he probably doesn't know what he really
feels about it. Don't assume he doesn't love you any more—remember his
visit to you in hospital—but don't assume that he still does, either. From
what I've seen of Blue, he's a very sensitive boy who's suffered a great deal
already. Carl told me a bit about him. Give him time—plenty of it—to sort
out how he feels and what he's going to do about it. Pray for him. Be patient.
And ask God to work things out His way for both of you."
"You know, Mrs. Slade," Mandy said softly, "that's what Mum said, too..."
"Well, I'm glad! I guess she was right about me," Emma laughed quietly,
"I didn't contradict her!"
"I'm glad, too," Mandy smiled, and sighed. "And I guess that's what I'll
do," she added softly. She sighed again, and looked at Emma questioningly.
"Mrs. Slade, if you don't mind my asking, how did you meet and marry Mr.
Slade?" she asked.
The question was not one Emma had expected, and she wasn't
immediately able to answer it. Should she tell Mandy about Carl's past?
Then she remembered that Carl had already told Mandy's friends that he'd
been a Counsellor during the Protectorate, so Mandy would probably find
out anyway. "It wasn't very romantic, Amanda, I'm warning you," she said,

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"Do you know anything about the Protectorate? For example, have you
heard about the Police Counselling Institute?"
"Yes—I've read about it some. Pastor Henry was taken there, my Dad told
me. I know the Counsellors tortured Christians."
"Mostly it was the Institute guards who did that. The Counsellors did the
talking to and they handed counsellees over to the Carers for beating up."
"But that doesn't make the Counsellors any better, does it?" Mandy
remarked, "In some ways that's even worse!"
"Perhaps. I won't discuss that right now. What I was going to tell you was
that about a year before the end of the Protectorate I was taken to the
Counselling Institute."
Mandy stared at Emma, horrified. "You were?" she exclaimed, "Was that
because you were a Christian?"
"Yes. The point in telling you all this is that the Counsellor they assigned
me to was Carl Slade. That's how I met him."
Mandy looked confused. "You mean—Mr. Slade, your husband?" she
said, "He was a Counsellor? Your Counsellor?"
"That's right, that is, until he met Christ some two weeks later."
"But-but— He made the guards beat you up?" the girl asked
incredulously.
"No," Emma replied softly, feeling as if she were speaking about someone
else's experiences, "He did it himself. He had an incredibly short temper."
"Mr. Slade did? I can't believe it!"
"He did. He was terribly confused, and his confusion made him very
frustrated and angry. Until he met Jesus Christ and turned to Him. He was
transformed overnight. When I was brought in for my counselling session
the next morning I had quite a shock. The first thing he did was ask me to
forgive him. And then he told me he'd become a Christian. He was so
different that I found myself wondering if it really was the same man!"
"But if he'd treated you like that, how could you marry him?" Mandy
exclaimed.
"Mandy, until just now, what was your opinion of Mr. Slade?"
"I thought he was a very nice man, very patient, very kind to everyone,"
Mandy answered uncertainly, "When he came to talk to my friends and me
that time, we weren't nice to him at all, but he was very friendly to us and
treated us as if we were, too. But I didn't stay. And then he was so kind even
after what I did to him..."
"Are you really surprised that I could come to love him? Despite what
happened in the Institute?"
Mandy considered this a moment. "N-No, I guess not..." she said at last.
"It was God who arranged it, of that I'm sure, Amanda," Emma said, "We
got married six weeks after his conversion—it's a miracle, really. I'm amazed
when I look back on these past five years and on how happy we've been
together despite some of the very hard times we've been through."
Mandy considered her thoughtfully for some moments. Never before had
she heard anything like Emma's story. And Emma had just said that her

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marriage was happy, as well. Perhaps there was hope for her future after all.
"How do you make a marriage happy, Mrs. Slade?" she asked.
"If you look at your own parents' marriage you can probably answer that
yourself," Emma replied, "To start with, you have to love God—both of you—
and God has to be first, He has to be most important, in your life, more
important than your husband, more important than anyone. Having that as
your foundation, then each spouse must live for the happiness of the other.
Your husband must be, after God, more important to you than yourself,
your children, your friends."
"That's pretty difficult, isn't it?" Mandy said pensively, "But you're right,
that is the way Mum and Dad are. And even though Mum can't move, she
can't do anything, Dad loves her just as much as ever." She lowered her
voice. "You know, he writes poems about her!"
"Your father? He writes poems about your mother?" Emma asked in
delighted surprise, "Does he let her read them?"
"No—he reads them to her. I've heard some of them. They make me cry..."
"What makes you cry?" a small voice sang out from one of the berths.
Helen was leaning out of bed grinning at her mother and Mandy.
Mandy got up and went over to her. "My daddy's poems, Helen," she said,
"Do you know what a poem is?"
"No," Helen answered, climbing out of bed, "What you doing here?"
"I came to visit your mum," Mandy said, taking Helen in her arms.
Andrew also woke up, got out of bed, and went to sit on his mother's lap.
Emma gave him a hug, then Mandy and she got the twins dressed. That
done, she picked Andrew up again and sat him on her hip, and suggested
they all go over to the house.
"Thanks for talking with me, Mrs. Slade," Mandy said quietly, "I'm glad
Mum let me talk to you."
"Your mother is an amazing woman, Amanda," Emma said, "I don't think
I could cope with creeping paralysis gracefully the way she has."
Mandy, holding Helen by the hand, stopped on the footpath and grinned
at Emma. "Do you know what Mum says to people who say things like that
to her?" she asked.
"What?" Emma said, shaking her head.
"She says, 'Of course you couldn't! I couldn't either! It's God who enables
me to cope with it. And He didn't enable me to cope with it until it actually
happened, either!' That's what she says."
"And that's the secret to coping with anything, isn't it?" Emma smiled,
"even what's happened to you. Look to God to enable you."
Mandy smiled back. "Yeah, that's right," she agreed, "It sure is."
They went back into the house and Henry offered them a cup of tea,
which they gladly accepted.
The twins went over to George and asked if he'd play a game with them.
"I could read you a story," he suggested.
"No, not a story," Helen said, "Daddy reads stories to us. He reads them
good!"
"A game, please, Uncle George," Andrew pleaded, "Play a game."

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