Love Speaks Through: Chapter 7

Aug 26, 2009 16:04



Allison had been totally up for digging the sidewalk trenches with the construction guys until she learned Joan and McKenna would be joining them. Why couldn’t Tyler be the one to help out here, instead of sanding the cement in the guesthouse or priming beams by herself? Joan and McKenna looked like they could use some solitary time. Though Allison wouldn’t admit to being scared of anyone, Joan scared the hell out of her. Plus, she’d been a total ass to Adam, refusing to even touch him at devotionals.

Setting to work right away, Allison was determined to make headway . She ignored it when dirt rained down on her from Southern Comfort’s total ineptitude with shovels. She ducked - grateful for her own agility - when Joan turned to ask a question and nearly took her head off, as she swung the shovel around, too.

Allison would have loved to stay and help more. She felt like she could do this way better than she could play with kids. But Joan and McKenna were totally hazardous, and one of the guys, Steve told the three of them to go give Tyler a hand at the guest house.

--

Tyler’s jeans were dirty and stained. Her gray tee shirt was sweaty and her fingers were sliced open in several places from carrying the beams. But Tyler couldn’t remember when she had felt happier. She absolutely loved being busy, and doing what needed to be done.

“Hey,” Allison said, stepping inside the guest house. “We got reassigned ‘cause they suck at digging,” she jerked a thumb behind her, where McKenna and Joan were lagging behind. “What do you need me to do?” she asked, slipping on the work gloves.

“I’m just staining and priming these. If you get bored or don’t want to, or whatever, sand the walls over here,” Tyler directed.

Allison and Tyler were hard at work, sanding and priming, respectively, when Joan and McKenna finally arrived. Alli figured it was better not to mention that their loud entrance had totally ruined the groove she and Tyler had gotten into - not to mention the wicked awesome rap they had come up with, inspired by the sound of the sandpaper.

“It stinks in here,” McKenna said. “And my arms already hurt.”

“Come sand with me,” Allison invited, not wanting to be stuck next to Joan.

Joan was asking a million questions, and McKenna was humming under her breath - a song that reminded Allison of one she was familiar with. Absently, still sanding, she started singing under her breath.

“There’s a somebody I’m longing to see. I hope that he turns out to be someone to watch over me.”

She reached over, turning McKenna’s sandpaper, so the sandy part was facing out.

“That doesn’t sound like a Christian song to me,” Joan accused, hefting one end of a beam while Tyler held the other.

“It’s not. It’s Frank Sinatra,” Allison answered, doing her best to keep working and not get the hell out of there.

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s pretty. You have a really nice voice,” McKenna complimented, enviously.

“Thanks,” Allison smiled. Maybe the apple fell farther from the tree than Allison thought.

“See?” Joan exploded loudly. “Kenna, this is why I don’t let you go to public school. Pretty soon you’re gonna want pink hair and a piss-poor attitude, too.”

“Okay!” Tyler interrupted, cutting off Joan’s tirade with a hand. “Joan and Allison switch. Now.”

“Fine with me,” Joan scoffed. “If it keeps the worldly influences away from my girl.”

Allison didn’t miss the hurt look McKenna cast at her mom, as Allison stepped over stuff to get to the beam Tyler was working on.

In two hours, Allison had worn holes in her gloves, and her muscles were aching, but she and Tyler had hit their stride. And in the same amount of time, Joan had re-sanded the same piece of wall Allison had left until it was ridiculously smooth, while McKenna worked her way down the wall. Away from Joan and closer to Allison.

--

There was something else about Costa Rica, Kris realized. It was beautiful, but it also rained every afternoon, like clockwork. Not just a sprinkle, but a good soaking rain.

Since the producers had already decided that they needed to film a segment with Adam and Kris singing to the kids, they decided that during the rain was the perfect time for a little concert.

Claudia and the other house moms gathered up both houses of children and gathered them in the living room. The older kids were back from school, so it was packed, which was just what they wanted to film. Though Kris knew this was supposed to only feature the two of them, there was no denying Allison was there, too, and a part of them, so when they set up for an acoustic Don’t Stop Believin’ both he and Adam lobbied hard for Allison to be included. They won.

Kris strummed his guitar and the three of them performed for the kids, mindful that the cameras were watching them, and that Joan had walked out to help with dinner in protest.

Tyler sat with McKenna and the kids, aware that while this was part of why they were there, it wasn’t the whole reason. And that became abundantly clear, after they were done, and the cameras shut off, as Kris and Allison put their heads together, after cluing Adam in, and Kris began playing Hillsong’s En La Cruz. Allison led them all, her voice caressing each word like it was something precious.

Adam had excused himself, though still not as fully as Joan, and sat with the children. He held Emilio in his lap, and hummed along. Despite the fact that this was a Christian song - it translated to At The Cross - Allison told him, there was no denying a pretty sound when he heard one.

Allison sang the verses by herself and Kris joined in the chorus, giving Adam chills all up and down his arms. Just the melody made tears come to Adam’s eyes. It was like a lullaby, and he was holding onto this kid. This precious little kid, who had been through so much hell that he wandered around, ate rotten fruit and latched onto the first person who came along. Adam held him a little tighter. He was sliming up Kris’ hat again, but Adam didn’t think Kris would mind.

By the time the song was over and twenty-five little voices were passionately singing along in their native tongue - and even Emilio sat quietly, his head resting on Adam’s shoulder - he was pretty sure the camera crew, and even Joan, had missed the whole point.

This was about hope. Bringing hope with you to leave behind with these kids. If religion was the vehicle used to do it, then great. He was behind anything that would help kids like Emilio. Kids like all of them.

And while Allison and Kris’ voices wrapped around each other, he knew that despite not knowing the language, the message was clear enough.

The kids were seen. And understood. And loved.


words: 50000+, kradison, author: ficdirectory, tyler, future, rating: pg, joan, title: love speaks through, allison

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