VOLUME 9 |ISSUE 1 |2018
“You must never manipulate people,” Royce said, brushing long
golden curls out of her eyes. “Yet people do this every single day.
For example…,”—she stood up and pointed toward the window,
where a few of my friends could be seen—“Zalinah over there
makes a perfect Youth Coordinator. She has all the beautiful
qualities that we are looking for. Yet you want the position too,
don’t you?”
I shrug. “I guess.” Deep down, I know I’d be a terrible Youth
Coordinator.
“God told us that Zalinah is our chosen one. It is normal to feel
angry, jealous, and bitter, Miranda.”
Hands stuffed into my pockets, I mumble, “Yeah.”
I watch Zalinah as she sits on the grass and laughs with two
handsome musicians. She is so beautiful—exactly the right
person for the job. I only asked to be considered because I
wanted to be useful. But really, Zalinah’s the sweetest, kindest,
and most generous person I know. And oh, so beautiful.
“So you see, Miranda,” Royce continues, “God’s challenge to
you is to guard against your baser instincts right now. Do you
understand? You mustn’t allow yourself to be bitter or resentful
toward Zalinah, or try to hurt or humiliate her, or punish her
because God chose her over you. You mustn’t blame her for the
gifts she has been given. Can I trust you with that?” She gives me
a guarded, suspicious smile.
I squirm, but I nod and smile. Why does she think I’d hate
Zalinah? I must come across as a monster. Guiltily, I slink out of
the meditation hall and head back to my room.
~
Zalinah is unpacking some boxes from a van, with a few other
people around our age. She smiles at me.
“Hi!” I wave. “Looks heavy! Do you need any help?”
For a moment, a cloud passes over my face. Is that being
competitive? Will Zalinah feel like I’m intruding on her space?
Am I trying to put her down or gain some sense of superiority
over her? Will she think I’m calling her weak or implying that I’m
stronger?
“Oh, we’re nearly done. Thank you, though!” She moves away
with a big grin. Is the smile an act? Is she uncomfortable? Did I
upset her?
Deep down, I wonder, was I wrong to go up to her? I wasn’t
trying to put her down. I like to think I’m kind and generous, but
what if that isn’t true? What if I am a selfish, horrible monster, and
I’m the only one who can’t see it?
~
The doorbell rings.
“Miranda!” My husband shouts from the bathroom. “It’ll be the
delivery guys! Can you get it?”
I rush to the door of our apartment, trying to avoid the wet,
moss-green paint on the walls. I open the door to see a smiling
man in front of me, and a van behind him. “Hey!” he says.
“Delivery for Sulieman?”
“That’s us!” I smile as he hands out a console for me to sign.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“Sure is, pet. This is my last delivery for the day. Then back home
to the wife for me. It’s my son’s birthday.”
“Oh, fabulous! How old is he?” I drag the box inside the door,
bending over a little. He leans down and helps push it.
“Kieran’s 7. Lucy is 5, and Laura’s 3. It’s Kieran whose birthday
is today. Gonna go home now to a garden of 7-year-old boys
doped up on sugar!”
“Ha-ha! Sounds exhausting! Have a wonderful night!”
“You too, pet! Take care!”
I close the door behind him, smiling. Suddenly, I freeze.
My husband is standing at the other end of the dark hallway. He’s
staring at me with a face of thunder. “Well, you certainly made a
friend.” His voice is frozen knives.
1113
“You must never manipulate people,” Royce said, brushing long
golden curls out of her eyes. “Yet people do this every single day.
For example…,”—she stood up and pointed toward the window,
where a few of my friends could be seen—“Zalinah over there
makes a perfect Youth Coordinator. She has all the beautiful
qualities that we are looking for. Yet you want the position too,
don’t you?”
I shrug. “I guess.” Deep down, I know I’d be a terrible Youth
Coordinator.
“God told us that Zalinah is our chosen one. It is normal to feel
angry, jealous, and bitter, Miranda.”
Hands stuffed into my pockets, I mumble, “Yeah.”
I watch Zalinah as she sits on the grass and laughs with two
handsome musicians. She is so beautiful—exactly the right
person for the job. I only asked to be considered because I
wanted to be useful. But really, Zalinah’s the sweetest, kindest,
and most generous person I know. And oh, so beautiful.
“So you see, Miranda,” Royce continues, “God’s challenge to
you is to guard against your baser instincts right now. Do you
understand? You mustn’t allow yourself to be bitter or resentful
toward Zalinah, or try to hurt or humiliate her, or punish her
because God chose her over you. You mustn’t blame her for the
gifts she has been given. Can I trust you with that?” She gives me
a guarded, suspicious smile.
I squirm, but I nod and smile. Why does she think I’d hate
Zalinah? I must come across as a monster. Guiltily, I slink out of
the meditation hall and head back to my room.
~
Zalinah is unpacking some boxes from a van, with a few other
people around our age. She smiles at me.
“Hi!” I wave. “Looks heavy! Do you need any help?”
For a moment, a cloud passes over my face. Is that being
competitive? Will Zalinah feel like I’m intruding on her space?
Am I trying to put her down or gain some sense of superiority
over her? Will she think I’m calling her weak or implying that I’m
stronger?
“Oh, we’re nearly done. Thank you, though!” She moves away
with a big grin. Is the smile an act? Is she uncomfortable? Did I
upset her?
Deep down, I wonder, was I wrong to go up to her? I wasn’t
trying to put her down. I like to think I’m kind and generous, but
what if that isn’t true? What if I am a selfish, horrible monster, and
I’m the only one who can’t see it?
~
The doorbell rings.
“Miranda!” My husband shouts from the bathroom. “It’ll be the
delivery guys! Can you get it?”
I rush to the door of our apartment, trying to avoid the wet,
moss-green paint on the walls. I open the door to see a smiling
man in front of me, and a van behind him. “Hey!” he says.
“Delivery for Sulieman?”
“That’s us!” I smile as he hands out a console for me to sign.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“Sure is, pet. This is my last delivery for the day. Then back home
to the wife for me. It’s my son’s birthday.”
“Oh, fabulous! How old is he?” I drag the box inside the door,
bending over a little. He leans down and helps push it.
“Kieran’s 7. Lucy is 5, and Laura’s 3. It’s Kieran whose birthday
is today. Gonna go home now to a garden of 7-year-old boys
doped up on sugar!”
“Ha-ha! Sounds exhausting! Have a wonderful night!”
“You too, pet! Take care!”
I close the door behind him, smiling. Suddenly, I freeze.
My husband is standing at the other end of the dark hallway. He’s
staring at me with a face of thunder. “Well, you certainly made a
friend.” His voice is frozen knives.
1113
