Solutions: The Dilemma of Faith by James Gerard (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

Those who ate at the center were assigned to the center.  She knew that the old identification card would not only raise suspicion if anyone of them demanded that it be presented and discovered she was seeking an unauthorized admission, but it very well could alert the workers if the Council had issued an advisory to be on alert for her as a fleeing traitor.  But she contemplated that if the two officers could have seen her as one of the elite, then the workers may do so as well and avoid any sort of confrontation and be moved by fear rather than pity.

“Excuse me.”

Mary could see the young man examine her from head to toe and appeared perplexed.  “Can I help you?”

“When do you open?”

“About thirty-five minutes.”

Mary smiled while shivering.  “Would you mind if I came in now?  You can see I’m having a rough day.”

The young man looked her over again.  “Excuse me for saying this ma’am, but you don’t look like a maintenance worker.”

“Actually….”  Mary instantly stopped the fabricated explanation floating about in the mind and carefully considered the ramifications of lying to the young man.  She knew there could be no rational explanation to her presence in an area and a time where she was just did not belong, and without proper credentials she could not prove the status of an elite worker.  She reasoned the only hope to salvage the situation was to come forth with the truth, flash the identification card, and hope for the best.  “I’m a nurse.”

The young man took the card and stared at it.  “A nurse?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing here?”

 “Look, I’d really love to explain that, but do you think I could get out of this rain first.”

“You can’t come in unless you’re assigned.  You know that.”

“But….”

“I need to call security about this.”

As the young man turned away Mary bolted down the sidewalk.

“Hey, come back here,” she heard the young man shout.

Mary ignored the command and continued to sprint down the sidewalk.  Up ahead an alleyway came into view.  She came to the corner and veered to the left.  Halfway down the alley sat a large dumpster.  Mary ducked behind and crouched down low hoping to evade any that came out for a capture.

She listened intently for any sounds that indicated a hunt was on, but only the sounds of the rain splattering on the asphalt could be detected.

“Unbelievable,” she whispered.  Tears welled up and mixed in with the water streaming down the face.  The hope of help, of pity, had been dashed.  Not only that, but she soon realized the position had changed from bad to worse since the new hiding place could only evoke extreme suspicion from anyone who might have witnessed the mad run for freedom.

The unusual summer rain, feeling more like a winter storm, continued its relentless pursuit to pour misery upon the situation.  Mary could only sit quiet and hope for help.

 Huddled behind the dumpster for hours, Mary became numb sitting in a filthy puddle of water.  She endured the heavy drips of water falling on already drenched clothing, and put up with rats scurrying about feeding on the putrid waste scattered all about, but something had to give.  Trembling with cold and fear was bringing her to the breaking point.

The splattering of water off the eaves of the building was drowned out by the long awaited screaming of sirens, of tires screeching, of the buzzing blades of a helicopter scoping out the ground below.  Voices shouted out commands while ights went flashing on by.

Mary gasped at the sound of boots slapping the asphalt.  The footsteps stopped.  She began to whimper knowing it was the end.  The thought of an arrest leading to warmth had grown cold.  Having had been identified as a wanted woman, she knew a cold-hearted fate waited.  

“Mary,” the voice called.

Her body trembled violently.  Tears streamed out of the eyes.  She did not bother looking up knowing that hands would drag her to the sentence of death.

“Mary, look at me.”

In a last ditch effort thoughts of fleeing came in a flash, but the reality of a successful escape was that of futility.  Mary utterly surrendered.  She looked up to face the judge and executioner but once again saw that smile.  This time the rage that had accompanied the stare was displaced by relief.  She had no idea who he really was except for an officer of the state, and beyond that, a believer.   She stared into the warmth of his eyes and struggled with the notion how one man could obey both the law of men and the law of a god at the same time.   She did not know how he could place himself in a contrary position that brought with it the risk of detection by conspiring to shun the state, but there he was.

“You’re running out of time Mary.  Sooner than later they will capture you.  I can only do so much.”

“What do you want me to do?” she cried.

“You already know Mary.  You just have to do it.”

A shout rang out.  The officer quickly turned away.  “It’s okay.  Just a bunch of rats.”

Before Mary could find out what he was talking about, the officer disappeared.  The buzzing helicopter veered away from the scene and the sirens ceased, but for Mary, danger still lurked around every corner.

Paralyzed by fear, she desperately wanted it all to end.  “Enough already,” she sobbed.  “Just please stop.”  But the rain would not cease, the wind from howling, or the dripping water its torturous assault.

The pack of rats feeding off the putrid waste grew in number.  Individual rats squared off and postured for position then viciously assaulted one another in attempts to claim the lion’s share of the spoiled mess.  In the chaos rats scurried over her.  She screamed and began to flail away at them, but they were too numerous to fend off.

Mary jumped up and raced away from the melee.  Panic set in.  She found herself exposed.  Eyes scanned the surrounding area seeking witnesses that could alarm the officers as to her position.  She sprinted further down the alley to the last building and ducked into the rear entryway of the building that offered no better shelter from the tormenting elements.  Crouched again in the very back of the corner of the entryway, she focused on anyone shouting out or sirens wailing towards the alley, but only the splattering of water off the eaves could be heard.

She stood up.  While trembling uncontrollably, she managed to peak out and search for a place to escape the rain and the cold and suddenly gasped in response to a group of people that had spontaneously come into view. Eyes stared intently as the individuals walked towards the lighted face of a door that sprang open for them.

Mary thought it strange that they were not in a rush to escape the torrential downpour.   From what she could spot they appeared relatively dry and well-dressed as they entered the door in single file, and oddly, there was not a vehicle to be seen or even the sound of a humming engine that sat idling.  As far as she could tell, they arrived on foot.

Without notice the last in line turned around quickly and looked towards her position.  She ducked back quickly behind the wall fearing the person had seen her.  Slowly the head moved forward and the eyes took a peak at the doorway.

“Great,” she whispered while ducking behind the wall again.  “He saw me.”

An urgency to flee ran rampant in the thoughts, but compelled to take one more glance to see if the coast was clear for one more mad dash to another building, overruled an immediate escape.  She peaked one more time.  The door was closed; the people nowhere to be seen.  Mary raced into the open.  Eyes peered over the surroundings but all available hiding places came with a price—they all faced the street and would leave her once again exposed for anyone to see.

Bare feet splashed through the numerous puddles as she raced back to the entryway.  Eyes peaked around the wall and stared at the door.  Curiosity led to a renewed hope. 

Thoughts muddled over their sudden presence during a time of the day when only security personnel, delivery trucks, and maintenance workers should have been out and about the streets.  But maybe they do things differently in San Diego, she wondered.  Or, she contemplated, that the mind numbing cold along with the dark and stormy sky had hid the passage of time and it was much later than what she thought.

Another possibility that came about by rumors heard by the occasional act of eavesdropping popped up.  It was believed that believers, fearing that their secret would be uncovered, secured certain strategic sites that offered safe havens for those to meet and to offer a sanctuary for those that wished to escape the carnal world.  The thought of one of their havens having been revealed provided a hope for help, but at the same time, if they were not believers, then she knew she would be walking into an inescapable trap.

“They have to be believers,” she stuttered.

But just as she summoned up the courage to run across the street and knock on the door, the disturbing sound of whirling blades hovering nearby, of sirens wailing and screeching tires of cruisers turning tight corners filled the air. 

An escape was hopeless.  There was nothing left to do but cry, for she knew no one would come to the rescue.  The summer storm continued to pour down rain.  The wind would not yield its attack.  The sky grew darker amd hid the setting sun that had been relegated to sit above the thick mass of gray, saturated clouds the whole day long.

The rain and wind worsened by the minute.  Violent shivering was made worse with the addition of painful cramps.  The makeshift covering of plastic and cardboard dug out of the nearby dumpster, wrapped and lying atop and below her body stripped of the wet clothing was useless.

It no longer mattered that Mary was too scared to move; she no longer had the physical capacity to do it, let alone cry out.  In between strange and morbid imaginations, the reality of imminent death was realized.  Her consciousness, fed by the experience from the assigned position at the hospital, knew it was a matter of hours if not minutes before the core temperature fell far enough to a point where the body could no longer sustain itself.

She realized even if the strength was mustered up to shout out, there was no one around to hear the cry.  Pedestrians and workers were comfortably tucked away from the dark and stormy night.  Maintenance vehicles were parked in secured lots and security cruisers roamed the streets but not the alleys.  Even the rats