What Faith Can Do [Christian Fiction]

Chapter Eight

A/N banner on the side is Faith, her five brothers (what they would look like), and Joshua.

Chapter Eight

It was the day before the Assembly. I had been working for weeks, getting prepared. My favorite event was going to be music; it was the best of them all. Joshua was away with Mr. Crowley, and though it was to be only for a short while, I did miss him.

I was sitting in the living room, reading one of Mr. Clarkson’s old books, when he entered carrying a big flat box.

“This is for tomorrow,” he said, putting the box on the table in front of me. “When you are called up onto that platform, this is what you will wear.”

I was almost afraid to open the box, because it looked like it was from somewhere expensive. However, the eager look in Mr. Clarkson’s eye made me curious. Underneath the light pink paper was a purple prom dress, and a pair of fishnet gloves, with the fingers cut off.

“Wow,” I said as I held up the dress. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“Did I pick the right style?” he asked. “Do you like this shade of purple? I can send Grace to exchange it, and bring it to us tomorrow.”

“It’s perfect,” I replied in shock. “I love it!”

“I have spoken with the school board. All student participants will have the option to refrain from socializing with anyone from their group. This way, Miss Bertrum shall not be given a chance to speak to you, without your consent. Furthermore, you will be with the masked guard at all times.”

I nodded and set the dress aside, so that I could hug Mr. Clarkson. In a way, he reminded me of how Lukan used to be. Gentle, kind, and caring, and I felt comfort when I was around him. Most of all, I felt as if he were my father.

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Clarkson,” I said, putting the dress back in the box.

“No Faith,” he said softly. “Thank you, for helping me to see myself again.”

I smiled and looked at my hands. What he meant was I reminded him of his son, whom I would meet at the end of the Assembly. Mr. Clarkson had become reacquainted with his son a few years prior.

“Faith,” he went on, “when the Assembly has come to an end, I will do everything in my power to put your family back together. You will be reunited with your brother, and even if I must adopt you as my own daughter, I will do so.”

I hugged him again and started thanking God for bringing me to this point in life. I thanked God for protecting my life. He had a plan for me; obviously, living was definitely part of it.

That evening I sat at the grand piano in the big ballroom, practicing a little bit for the next few days of events. I had three songs for the musical evaluations: What Faith Can Do by Kutless, This is Home by Switchfoot and Healer by Kari Jobe. Mr. Clarkson chose each of these songs. He had told me they were his grandmother’s favorites when she was my age. I understood why. Each song had a specific meaning in many circumstances.

“Your playing is lovely,” Grace said; she was dusting one of the chandeliers. “It has been many years since that piano was played.”

“Really, why?” I asked, ending the song.

“Mr. Clarkson’s wife loved the sound of the piano,” she replied, putting her duster down. “He would play for her for hours. After she left, the piano forgotten. Nevertheless, I have kept it in good condition, getting it tuned when needed, hoping to hear the wonderful sound again.”