Take Charge (19 page)

“I guess that’s what I mean.”

“You just do it, Amy.”

“How?”

“You pray. Do you want me to pray with you?”

Amy looked down at her lap. She wasn’t even sure what she was getting herself into, but she knew she had to take this next step. “Yes.”

“All right,” said An in a serious voice. “This is how they do it at my church. I’ll pray something and you repeat it, but imagine you’re talking to Jesus. Okay?”

“Okay.”

So An began to pray and Amy followed. And to her surprise it really wasn’t all that complicated. But even more surprising was how much better she felt when they were done.

“That’s it?” she said.

An laughed. “Good grief, Amy, you just invited the King of Kings into your heart. Don’t act too casual about it.”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Amy. “I’m just surprised it was that simple.”

“But did you mean it?” asked An. “Did you really mean those words you prayed, in your heart?”

“Of course.” Amy nodded. “I wouldn’t have prayed them if I didn’t mean it.”

“Good.” An stuck out her hand and shook Amy’s. “Welcome to the family of God. You are a Christian, Amy.”

Amy smiled. “Cool.”

“Yes, cool.” An glanced at her watch. “But I better get in there before Mom wigs out. Are you working tonight?”

“Do you guys need me?”

“No. Ly should be back by now.”

“And I have homework.” Amy grabbed her backpack. “I’ll just walk home.”

An grinned at Amy. “That really is cool, Amy. I mean, that you’re a Christian now.” She hugged her. “Now I have someone else in the family I can talk to about this stuff. Wanna go to church with me on Sunday?”

“Sure.”

Then they said good-bye and Amy started toward home. But as she walked, she noticed a definite lightness in her step. It felt as if some heavy load had been lifted from her. She couldn’t even totally understand it. At least not with her head. But like An had said, she thought she understood it in her heart. She couldn’t wait to tell Morgan and the others!

As she hurried home, she decided to try out the praying thing on her own. And since she was still feeling a little concerned about their park project, she decided to pray about that. First, she asked God to help them finish what they had started. Then she reminded him of how the little kids in town really did need a place like that to play in. And she promised God that she would do her best to see that it got finished too. Then she said, “Amen!”

“Hey, Amy!” called a girl’s voice, and Amy turned around to see Morgan, Carlie, and Emily hurrying toward her.

“We thought that was you,” said Emily as they jogged up and joined her at the entrance to the mobile-home court.

“How’d it go with the Dragon Lady?” asked Carlie.

“You look like you’re still in one piece,” said Morgan. “We prayed for you.”

“Thanks,” said Amy. “It went okay. She even wrote me a letter to prove that we really do have her permission.”

“Cool,” said Morgan.

“Except for one thing,” remembered Amy. “She made me promise her something.”

“Did she make you write it in blood?” teased Emily.

Amy laughed. “No, but it involves you guys. And Chelsea too.”

“What?” asked Carlie.

“The Dragon Lady wants us all to come to tea at her house on Sunday at four o’clock.”

“Cool,” said Emily, rubbing her hands together. “I can’t wait!”

“Really?” Amy was surprised.

“Yeah, me too,” said Morgan. “This will be interesting.”

“I’m in,” said Carlie. “And I know Chelsea will be too. She really wants to see that house.”

“Great!” Amy smiled. She had no idea it would be that easy to get her friends to go to the Dragon Lady’s. Hopefully they wouldn’t all end up locked in her basement.

“So, did you take the letter to the newspaper yet?” asked Emily. “For verification?”

“And to remind them that there are laws against slander?” added Morgan.

“Yeah, that Mr. Howard practically called you a liar,” said Carlie. “That’s not right.”

Amy slapped her forehead. “I totally forgot.”

“Well, it’s not five o’clock yet,” said Morgan. “They’ll still be open.”

Amy nodded. “I better head back to town right now.”

“I’ll walk back with you if you want,” offered Morgan.

“Me too,” said Emily.

“I would love to go too,” said Carlie, “but Mom wants me to watch the boys when I get home.”

So Amy, Morgan, and Emily told Carlie good-bye then turned back toward town.

“Thanks, you guys,” said Amy as they hurried along. “And this gives me the chance to tell you my big news …”

“About the Dragon Lady?” asked Emily with dramatic interest.

“Bigger than that.”

“Bigger?” Morgan looked interested too.

“You’ll never guess what I did today.”

“Did you get skipped another grade?” asked Morgan.

“No.” Amy shook her head. “Bigger than that.”

“Did you win the lottery?”

“Bigger.”

“Bigger?”
said Morgan and Emily in unison. Then they looked at each other and back at Amy with bewildered expressions.

“What?” demanded Morgan. “What did you do?”

“I invited Jesus into my heart.”

“No way!” yelled Morgan, a huge smile breaking across her face.

“Way!” said Amy.

“Congratulations!” said Emily, squeezing her hand. “Welcome to the real club!”

Morgan hugged her. “Congratulations, Amy. That means we really are sisters now, you know?”

“We’re in the same family,” added Emily.

“I know.” Amy smiled. “And it’s so cool.”

She told them about her conversation with An and how she prayed with her and how much better she felt already. And suddenly they were at the newspaper office.

“I’m Amy Ngo,” said Amy as they stood in front of the reception desk. “I’m the chairperson of the Save Our Park project, and I’d like to speak to the editor, please.”

“The editor?” echoed the older woman with a slightly amused expression.

Amy nodded firmly. “Yes, this has to do with something in yesterday’s newspaper. Something that might be considered slanderous.”

“Slanderous?” The woman looked really curious now. “Why don’t you girls go have a seat, and I’ll see if Mr. Simpson is available.”

They went over to the chairs in the waiting area and sat down.

“Are you nervous?” asked Emily.

Amy considered this. “No, not really.”

Morgan grinned. “That’s because you have Jesus in your heart, Amy. He can help you through anything.”

“Mr. Simpson will see you, Miss Ngo.”

Amy looked at her friends. “Can they come too?”

The receptionist shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“I need witnesses,” Amy whispered to her friends as the receptionist led them to an office in the back. Emily giggled.

“Amy Ngo,” said Mr. Simpson as he stood and shook her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Then Amy introduced her friends and they all sat down.

“Mrs. Flynn said that you mentioned a concern about slander,” he continued. “Would you care to elaborate?”

So Amy calmly reminded him of the article in yesterday’s paper and how Mr. Howard said that Amy might be making up the story about speaking with Viola McPhearson.

He cleared his throat. “Well, you must admit that it sounds a bit far-fetched. I’m not suggesting that you actually lied. But no one in this town, including the mayor, who has made attempts, has spoken to Miss McPhearson for years. For all we know, the woman could’ve passed on by now. And it’s reasonable to assume that a young girl might
not have her story straight.”

Amy was beginning to fume now. She felt her face growing warm at what sounded like a fairly direct accusation.

“Amy is
not
a liar,” interjected Morgan.

Mr. Simpson held up his hands as if he wasn’t convinced.

“And
she has proof,” added Emily.

“That’s right,” said Amy. She stood up and removed the letter from her backpack and laid it on his desk.

He adjusted his glasses and slowly read the scrawled handwriting. Then he looked at Amy and smiled. “This is very interesting.”

Amy reached over and took the letter back. “I’d be happy to let you have a copy of this, but I will be holding on to the original.”

He chuckled. “You’re quite an impressive young lady.”

“So if you could print an article that will set the public straight,” continued Amy, “we would be most appreciative.”

He actually laughed now. “Please, accept my sincere apologies,” he told her. “I will do all I can to retract the impression of that other article.” He leaned forward. “Would you like to tell me a little about Miss Viola McPhearson? Why she has ignored the city attorney’s letter? Or why she isn’t involved in the restoration of her own park? Is she helping out financially?”

“Miss McPhearson is a very private person,” said Amy. “That’s all I can say about that.”

He nodded. “Fine. I can respect that.”

“I look forward to reading the newspaper on Saturday,” said Amy, standing.

“How about a copy of that letter?” asked Mr. Simpson.

“No problem,” said Amy.

“I’ll ask Mrs. Flynn to make one,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He smiled. “Thank
you
.”

The copy was made, and the girls left the newspaper office. After walking about a block and a half, all three of them burst into giggles.

“Amy Ngo!” exclaimed Morgan. “You were cooler than a cucumber in there.”

“I thought you’d turned, like, thirty years old when you were talking to him,” gasped Emily between giggles.

Amy laughed. “I just wanted to be sure he took me seriously.”

“I think he did,” said Morgan.

“You don’t think he was laughing at me?” asked Amy.

“Not at all. I think he was totally impressed,” said Emily. “I know I was.”

Amy felt like she had wings on her feet as they walked home. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so happy.

Amy got up early on Saturday morning. It was the day of their big fund-raising events. She had spent the past two afternoons making cookies for the bake sale, and now they were neatly sealed in plastic bags, stacked in a cardboard box, and ready to be sold. She hurried to dress, then went outside to get the newspaper, dodging between raindrops as she hurried back into the house. She opened the slightly damp paper, hoping to see the article promised to her by the editor, but it wasn’t on the front page. And, as she searched through the whole thing, it wasn’t on any page. So she went to the editorial section, looking for Carlie’s letter, the one Emily helped her to write last week. But it wasn’t there either. However, there were a couple of letters in support of the parking lot and “continued development in Boscoe Bay.” She closed the newspaper and growled. Mr. Simpson had tricked her!

She was still angry when she met her friends at Morgan’s house. The girls hovered together under Morgan’s carport, watching as rain poured so hard that it overflowed the gutters and splashed onto the ground all around them.

“Not a very good day for a car wash,” said Carlie with a frown.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” said Amy sadly. “Did you guys see today’s paper?”

“I did,” said Morgan. “No article about Miss McPhearson’s letter.”

“I know.” Amy scowled. “And I didn’t see any announcement about our fund-raising events in the What’s Happening section.”

“Me neither.”

“This is totally unfair,” said Carlie. “How can we do these things if the newspaper won’t even cooperate?”

Morgan pointed to the rain. “Even the weather’s not cooperating.”

“I thought God was supposed to listen to our prayers,” said Amy.

“He listens,” said Morgan. “But his answers don’t always come just as we’d like them to.”

“Sometimes we have to wait,” said Emily.

“Like my mom says,” offered Carlie, “when God closes a door, sometimes he opens a window.”

“Who needs an open window on a day like this?” said Amy.

They laughed.

“So what should we do?” asked Morgan. “My grandma is still willing to drive us to town. My youth pastor
will bring the car wash stuff for us.”

“Chelsea already put up the flyers,” said Carlie. “They looked really good too.”

“They’re probably soggy by now,” said Emily.

“I think we should go for it,” said Amy suddenly.

“Okay,” said Morgan.

So Morgan’s grandma drove them through the rain to town. “You sure you girls will be okay?” she asked as she pulled into the back of McDonald’s where some hoses and things were already set up and ready to go.

“We’ve got our raincoats,” said Morgan.

“And umbrellas,” said Amy.

“Well, be sure and call if you need a ride home,” she told them as they all climbed out of the car.

Because of the weather, they decided to keep their fund-raising efforts together in one place. They would wash whatever cars happened to show up and sell cookies and the few beaded bracelets they’d had time to make. But as they stood behind McDonald’s, out there in the drenching rain, Amy felt more and more humiliated. The other girls were in good spirits as they joked and laughed at how ridiculous they must appear.

But as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, it seemed that hardly anyone was coming — why would they? The rain kept falling, and Amy felt certain their entire day was just a big waste of time. By noon the girls were
soaked to the skin, and even the free cocoa from McDonald’s wasn’t helping. They had washed two cars and sold a couple of packets of cookies and one beaded bracelet for a grand total of $17.25.

“This is crazy,” said Chelsea as she shook the water off her raincoat. “I’m ready to call it a day.”

“Me too,” admitted Morgan. “Washing cars on a rainy day is nuts.”

“And my cookies are starting to get soggy,” admitted Amy. “I think we should pack it up.”

“Maybe we can try again next week,” said Carlie.

“Yeah,” said Amy, but she was thinking that if they had to wait until next week to raise money, they would only have one weekend left to do the remaining work on the park. Still, they couldn’t very well work on the park without money to purchase the things they needed. She didn’t want to admit it, but everything about this project was looking too big and too impossible. As they loaded their stuff back into Morgan’s grandma’s car, she was on the verge of tears, but being the chairperson of this group, she knew she had to hold it in. And so she silently prayed.