Cross-cultural Effects
CROSS-CULTURAL EFFECTS / CH. 1:SCHOOL TRIP
MESSAGE TO THOMAS WHITE, MARS, SATURDAY, 15TH DECEMBER
Hey, Thomas? Any last minute advice? We're leaving for Atlantis on Monday.
Love, Elsie.
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MESSAGE TO ELSIE WHITE, JERSEY, MONSOL 15TH DECEMBER
Hi Elsie,
1. Don't question anyone's honour, or try to get anyone to break an oath.
2. Don't test anyone's knife (assuming you like your fingertips)
3. Do take loads of pictures.
4. Say 'Hi' to Sathie from me and Ursula.
5. Try some cucumber drink if offered, just don't watch it being prepared.
6. If anyone offers you a foul tasting drink called “potion” you're ultra-ultra fortunate, and you should accept it. Even if it will make you ill for a few hours. Ursula also says you can tell Sathie that the underground pool is finished, and that the transparent tower problem has been partially solved with wall-paper and rugs.
Thomas.
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MESSAGE TO THOMAS WHITE, MARS, SUNDAY, 16TH DECEMBER
Hi Thomas,
what's potion do that's worth being sick, then?
Elsie.
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MESSAGE TO ELSIE WHITE, JERSEY, TUESOL 16TH DECEMBER
Hi Elsie,
I shouldn't have mentioned it. It was a big no-no, and Ursula's really upset with me that I did. Please don't mention it to anyone.
Thomas.
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MESSAGE TO THOMAS WHITE, MARS, SUNDAY, 16TH DECEMBER
Thomas, how upset? I didn't tell anyone. Messages deleted.
Elsie
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MESSAGE TO ELSIE WHITE, JERSEY, TUESOL 16TH DECEMBER
By mentioning it to you, I broke a promise. That upset.
Thomas.
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EMBASSY OF ATLANTIS, TUESOL, 16TH DECEMBER
“Ursula,” Ruth said. “Talk to me, what was your row with Thomas about?”
“I'm an idiot,” Ursula said.
“He called you an idiot?”
“No. I called me an idiot. He's a land-man, a shark, you can't trust them.”
“Hey, I'm engaged to one, if you remember.”
“Maybe you got a good one. I hope you did, I didn't. I got a shark.”
“Ursula? What are you saying?”
“That I'm an idiot! No, worse. A shark or sharkfood.”
“Should I call for a doctor?”
“What?”
“Ursula, Martian law is not quite like Atlantis law, but if he attacked you...”
“No! No, not that. He broke no oath, but he made me into an oath-breaker.”
After Ursula had wept for a few more minutes, Ruth asked, “What oath, Ursula?”
“To protect the secrets of the deep. But I told him, because he'd promised not to tell, and then he told Elsie.”
More broken sobs wracked Ursula's body. “And then he tried to excuse himself, just like a shark.”
“I do not think you are shark, Ursula, or that God will hold you guilty if Thomas misled you so.”
“But it is worse than that.”
“Worse?”
“I'm an idiot.”
“How is it worse, Ursula?”
Between sobs, Ursula explained: “I've been t-trying to write to him, t-tell him what he's done, to never speak to me again. I c-can't. I still l-love him, I want to forgive him, but how can I forgive that?”
“Can I call my mother, Ursula?”
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MESSAGE TO THOMAS WHITE, MARS UNIVERSITY, WEDSOL 17TH DECEMBER,
Mr White,
What do you think you've done?
Ruth Mars-speaker
Ambassador of the Mer
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CLIFFTOP NEAR ST BRELADE, JERSEY, 11.00 A.M. MONDAY 17TH DECEMBER
It was almost the shortest day of the year, and it was a long way from the Western end of the English Channel to Atlantis. Also, there was said to be a big storm brewing. The youngsters were chatting excitedly about their big adventure, while the parents looked at the waves crashing in from the Atlantic and wondered aloud whether the Mer would really be able to take their children safely aboard from the little jetty at St Brelade's, according to the plan. The jetty was just round the corner from the promontory where they'd gathered, maybe twenty minute's walk away. But if the seas were too big, wouldn't it be better to use the real harbor at St Aubin, the other side of the bay? Another parent suggested they might need to just admit defeat, and use the big harbour at St Helier. In other words, said another would they be spending half the day chasing from one end of the island to the other, trying to find out where this strange vessel was docking, not to mention negotiating harbour fees?
“I thought I saw something. Do you see anything?” one mother asked for the umpteenth time.
“No. Oh! What's that?” A bright flash seemed to come from the water, around the headland, then another, longer one.
“A-N-Y-O-N-E W-A-N-T A S-W-I-M.” One of the fathers read the dots and dashes, “OK, so they've got a sense of humour and know Morse code. I assume they're joking about the swim, anyway.”
“Now I know why I was told to bring a powerful torch,” Elsie's teacher said. “I don't suppose you could signal some suitable reply, could you?”
“What like?” he asked.
“What about 'No thanks, enjoying the sun too much'?” The sky was slate grey.
“That'll take a while, my Morse is really rusty.”
“How about 'no' then?”
“Thank you,” he replied.
“Mrs De Gruchy?” Elise said, “I've just had a message saying that they've slowed down to forty knots now, but they expect they'll still be at the quay before us.”
“Slowed down to forty knots, eh?” the Morse code expert said, “What's their top speed, then?”
“I urm, think that's a secret,” Elsie said, “But I did get a message a couple of hours ago saying the water off the Canary Islands was lovely and warm.”
“Oh, well, I'm all in favour of a swim off the Canary Islands!” Elsie's classmate Tina said “That is a very different suggestion!”
“I hope you've all got your passports!” Mrs De Gruchy called. “Everyone down to the quay!”
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ST BRELADE'S JETTY, JERSEY, 11.30 A.M. MONDAY 17TH DECEMBER
The submarine, which was about as long as two buses, was floating in the water a little distance from the jetty when Elise first saw it, and she noticed immediately how steady it seemed, although it wasn't totally stable. She also noticed how the waves around the submarine looked distinctly odd.
She wasn't the only one to notice it. “What's up with the sea?” Tina asked.
“My guess is we're about to walk across a forcefield.”
“But... forcefields are more slippery than ice!” Tina protested.
“Not the sort the Mer use,” Elsie replied.
“I thought there was only one sort,” Tina said.
“Not according to my brother.” Then seeing a familiar mermaid leaping out of the water, Elsie waved and called out, “Zelda!”
“Hi!” Zelda came alongside the jetty, and said “Nice waves you've got here, shame about the water temperature!”
“Aren't you freezing?” Elsie asked.
“Naah. It's a bit chilly, but I'm basically wearing a wetsuit. Freezing is what you get off the coast of Greenland.”
“Urm, yes. Not to mention icebergs.”
“Yeah, they're fun to play with, too.” With that, Zelda, dived underwater, gave a few powerful strokes of her tail and leapt out of the water onto the forcefield surrounding the submarine. She landed on the slightly springy surface in a forward roll and then stood up.
“Now,” Zelda said, addressing the school-children lining the quay, “will the young males among you please keep your thoughts under control, I heard that. Yes, I meant you, you cannot make those sorts of decisions about people and assume they won't be heard, and you're going to get in trouble if you do. My name is Zelda. We do not normally use surnames, so I am not Miss anything or Mrs anything, I'm Zelda. I got out of the water that way because the other way involves hauling myself out like some kind of long-armed seal, and that's just humiliating, if you ask me. I am not the owner of this submarine, but you may think of me as the captain. Like all Mer ships, it is classed as a military vessel. That means if anyone tries to take control of it away from me I am under oath to use deadly force if necessary to stop that. If I perceive that my best efforts will not be sufficient to stop a hijacking, then I am under oath to trigger the self-destruct, and I will do that. If the self destruct is triggered, that will be the equivalent of a small thermonuclear detonation. We'll all die. I tell you this as a warning, just in case any of you kids think that it might be fun to pull any stunts, or try to take my knife, or anything like that. Just, don't, OK? “Talking about my knife, the blade is sharper than most surgeon's scalpels. You probably won't feel it cutting your fingers to the bone if you test the blade, and medical facilities on Atlantis do not include anything like regrowth treatment or even plastic surgery. So, if you're stupid, expect scars. And that includes making stupid decisions near thought-hearers. Yes, you. Frankly, if that's going to be your attitude, then stay home. Those thoughts will get you labeled as a shark and I hope you've read what happens to sharks. Yes, to the parent who just decided I'm trying to make sure everyone behaves, that's exactly what I'm doing. Failure to behave will not get you a few hours of extra homework or sent to the head's office. Eighty percent of girls, maids and women your age and older carry a blow-pipe and three types of darts. Type one means you get temporarily paralysed, type two means you experience intense pain, about on a par with a sea-urchin sting, except worse and faster-acting. Type three darts have no antidote I'm aware of and will kill you. Threaten someone and you should expect to be darted or sliced open with a knife. Rob someone and you will be required to repay twice the value of what you steal, and have the word thief tattooed on you. Your parents have acknowledged that our laws are not your laws, and that if you act like a shark we will deal with you like a shark. You should not make a promise you cannot keep, you should not ask about things you know are secrets, you should not question anyone's word. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Zelda.” the group of children said.
“Good, in that case, I hope you'll have a wonderful time, or decide it's safer to stay on land. Now... before we go, does anyone have any allergies to fish or shell-fish? Good. Right, there is no schedule beyond getting to Atlantis before dinner time and eating lunch on the way, but there are consequences, so if someone has forgotten something, we can wait, but it means other things might not happen. Important things first, does everyone have a swimming costume and a towel with them? Wonderful! What about more boring things like passports, medicines, things like that? There was a hasty checking of rucksacks. No one admitted to missing anything. “OK, now we get to turn parents green with envy and make a decision which way we go to Atlantis. Option one is to go for a swim and a beach-barbecue on a nice little island I know in the Canaries. The water isn't going to be that warm, about twenty, which is a bit warmer than you get here in the summer, I think.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Option two, we could go via the Azores. The water's cooler, but there's a really beautiful deep water coral reef if we go that way.”
“Might there be sharks?” one of the girls asked.
“It's possible, but they're not very tasty, so probably not.”
“Urm, I meant trying to eat us.”
“Ah, well, that's why I'm not the only warrior on board.” she played a long, high-pitched whistle on her pipe. Shortly after, one red-haired mermaid stuck her head up out of the submarine, and Elsie saw a blonde mermaid swimming towards Zelda with a spear in her hand, and some kind of bag on her shoulder.
“Are we going already, Zel?” the blonde asked.
“Not yet Rosa, but I thought it was time to introduce you. Passengers, meet Bianca and Rosa. They're twins. Rosa has blonde hair and Bianca has red hair. Where's Sathzakara, Rosa?”
“Playing dangerous games. She's spotted a nice big electric ray.”
“Hmm. Tasty, but you'd better go give her back-up. Come to think of it, I'd better give you back-up too.” then, seeing Elsie's reaction, Zelda added, “Elsie, it's a different Sathie, in case you're wondering. Bianca, show them how to get on board, can you?”
“Pair of wired spears, Zel, Rosa?” Bianca asked.
“Please.” they both said.
Bianca threw a bundle to each of them, and then told the passengers, “While Rosa and the others catch lunch, please feel free to get on board. There's a forcefield almost all the way to the jetty, with a bit of a lip to stop water getting on top of it. If you're feeling brave you can just jump down, but that takes getting used to, otherwise, you'll need to go four steps down the ladder, so you're on the step above the lowest rung of the ladder that doesn't get wet, and step out onto it. You can probably see where it is from the waves.”
“How far from the ladder is it?” Mrs De Gruchy asked.
“About ten centimetres. Hold on, I'll come and stand at the edge.”
Elsie was a little surprised to see that Bianca wasn't wearing scales, but a skirt that seemed to be made of a deep red velvet. She tentatively decided she'd like to know why she wasn't in scales if that wasn't rude.
Bianca smiled brightly as she walked above the water on the invisible forcefield, “Very politely thought! The reason I'm not wearing scale is that I knew I'd be staying on board, and I'd much rather change than sit around in damp scale all day long.” She stopped beside the foot of the ladder and said, “OK, my toes are now just touching the lip of the forcefield. Which isn't slippery, but is a bit flexible. It's not as bad as a bouncy castle though. Oh, in case anyone's wondering, the submarine has three small shower-rooms, four toilets, a kitchen area quite big enough to feed us all, and lots of cold-storage for fish.”
“And we can really just jump down?” one of the boys asked.
“If you'd normally jump down more than half a metre onto an invisible totally non-slip surface, feel free. Just bear in mind that if you land badly and need to go to hospital, you don't go to Atlantis.”
Elsie noticed that no one decided to jump.
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Your Excellency,
Over the weekend, my beloved Ursula told me a certain secret which causes nausea. I promised I wouldn't tell, and fully meant to keep that promise. On Monsol, my sister wrote, asking for last minute advice for her trip to Atlantis. I wrote a number of points, and added that if anyone offered her this thing, which I unthinkingly named, it was not something to be refused, as it would be a wondrous gift, well worth being ill for a few hours. I did not describe its properties except the illness and the foul taste. I did not think, when I wrote that, that I was breaking my promise, but I now realise I probably did, and Ursula is rightly upset with me. I would whole-heartedly like to beg her forgiveness (and also yours for repaying your welcome so poorly), but Ursula is not answering my calls.
I cast myself on your mercy for what I've unthinkingly done, and hope you will not judge me too harshly, and pray you might intervene to bring reconciliation.
If I have caused any trouble for Ursula, I beg that you hold her innocent and me guilty. I accept full responsibility not only for my telling Elsie, but for also for Ursula telling me the secret, as she spoke of a secret she'd tell me sometime and rather than accepting that, I urged her to be open with me, promising I'd not pass it on.
Thomas White
P.S. Elsie has deleted the offending message and did not pass on its content.
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SMALL ISLAND IN THE CANARIES, MONDAY, 17TH DECEMBER, 5PM
“Right, as you see, we've surfaced near some islands. They're called the Canaries.” Zelda said. “And for whoever's just muttered 'finally', I'd like to point out that we've just come more than a thousand nautical miles, and most of your ships would take more than twenty-four hours to get here. We have a treaty with the government here that as long as people on our submarines stay below the high tide line, then we don't need to show anyone a passport. So, since Mer always keep to their treaties, and the guy you'll need to show a passport to is about two hour's walk away, assuming you don't get lost, everyone stays on the submarine or well below the high tide line, OK? Otherwise you're going to walk to the other side of the island, interrupt the customs guy's evening with his girlfriend, and get your passport stamped. At that point it'll be quite late so you'd better book yourself into a hotel for the night, and someone will meet you back here in the morning, check you've got the stamp and take you to Atlantis.”
“Urm, what happens if we're playing frisbee and it crosses the line?” a boy asked.
“What's more important to you?” Bianca asked “Taking your frisbee home, or getting to Atlantis tonight? If you step over the high tide line you will not be getting back on this submarine today.”
“You do not ask a Mer to break an oath or a treaty, Sean,” Elsie told the boy, “or you'll make yourself a dangerous shark.”
“Yes, Sean.” Mrs De Gruchy said, “we studied this, remember? If you throw a frisbee over the line it stays there. Except of course that'd be littering. So how about we do what we came here to do: swim and enjoy barbecued catch of the day, and don't play frisbee?”
“Why have you got a frisbee, anyway?” Tina asked Sean.
“I haven't, I was just asking.” Sean said, red-faced, “I thought someone might.”
There were groans throughout the submarine.
“Does anyone have any genuine questions?”
“Do we need to swim?” one girl with long hair asked.
“No,” Bianca said, “But if I remember rightly you'll be to wading up to your waist to get to the beach.”
“I expect Sean would be only too happy to carry you, Mia,” Tina suggested. It was common knowledge in the class that he'd been persistently trying to summon up the courage to ask her out for most of the last term, and that Mia had carefully avoided giving him any opportunities to speak to her alone.
Sean turned bright red, while Mia looked annoyed and said “I'll swim.”
“Tina, that wasn't nice,” Elise chided quietly.
“She won't even let him ask her out,” Tina whispered back.
“He could go knock on her front door, or something,” Elsie pointed out.
“Have you seen her dog?” Tina asked, “Not to mention her big brother?”
“Neither give me any trouble.”
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SMALL ISLAND IN THE CANARIES, MONDAY, 17TH DECEMBER, 5.30PM
“Ow!” Mia said, lifting her right foot to examine it. “Was that glass or a shell?” They'd been standing with the waves tickling their toes, enjoying the warmth of the sun, and the tasty fish.
“Might be neither,” Sean said, who'd been nearby, hoping against hope that he'd finally be able to talk to her some time. But since that was so unlikely, he'd also been following a shrimp as it made its way through the water. He'd noticed a small fish swim away from her direction, just as she said 'ow'. “Is it getting worse?”
“It's just a scratch.” she said, annoyed.
“That's good, I thought that might have been a weever.”
She waved him away, and went back to talking to her friend.
A couple of minutes later, she called Sean. “OK, Sean, what is a weever? And if what I felt was one, does that explain why my foot's starting to hurt more?”
“Weever fish, hides in the sand, with venom spines on its back. It gives you a scratch which turns into pain worse than a wasp sting. You need to put your foot in really really hot water, as hot as you can stand,” he babbled. Renata, Mia's friend, went pale, and ran towards the adults to get help. They were by fire, maybe three hundred meters away.
Sean called at the top of his voice, “Mrs De Gruchy! I think Mia's had a sting from a weever. I saw what might have been one.”
“Hot water!” Mrs De Gruchy called back, pointing past them towards the submarine.
“I know!” Sean shouted back.
“It really hurts!” Mia said, going pale.
“Mia, can you walk back to the sub?” Sean asked, “There's hot water in the showers. We need to get your foot hot.”
She tried a step and whimpered at the pain.
“Will you let me carry you?” Sean said.
Holding back the tears, she nodded.
On the way to the submarine, Sean grimaced, and hoped the scratch he'd just felt wasn't what he thought it might be. Mia didn't notice.
“Can you sit onto the forcefield?” he asked as they got there.
“Yes,” she said, letting go of his neck and lying back on the supportive but inanimate and unfeeling surface. It felt safer, less threatening. It wasn't about to declare its love for her. Why had it had to be Sean of all people to be there? Why couldn't Renata have stayed to help herself?
“Come on, Mia, let's hurry,” Sean urged, helping her to stand, and picking her up again, despite the protests from his increasingly painful foot.
“Ladder?” she asked. They had to get up the ladder of the submarine.
“We'll manage.” He promised, wondering how.
By the time they'd got there, he'd worked it out. He just hoped his foot would still be working. “OK, Mia. Can you put your good foot on this rung here, so you take some of the weight? I think between us, with your good foot and my getting worse foot we can make it.”
“Your foot?” she asked, still trying hard not to sob in agony and self-pity.
“One got me on the way here, so, yeah, faster is better.”
It wasn't easy, for either of them. She had to help lift her weight with one hand and her good leg, while still holding on to him, and he had to hold her weight and his own as she adjusted that good leg. Then she helped support him as he tried to put as little weight on his sore foot as he could.
Eventually, they managed to get to the submarine's hatch, and they'd actually got into a good rhythm by the end.
“This is one of those teamwork things,” Mia said as they helped each other hobble down the stairs to the inner door, “only with more pain.”
“Yeah. Not such a bad team though, are we? We need a bucket or a big bowl.”
“So, check the kitchen?”
“I guess so.”
“How long is it going to take?” Mia asked.
“We put our feet in really hot water, as hot as we can stand, then it should be all better by the time the water's got chilly. It was last time, anyway.”
“Last time?”
“One got me a couple of years ago. The heat breaks down the venom, otherwise we'll get all sorts of bad effects, swelling, and stuff like that.”
“I hope the water's hot enough.”
“Me too, but there's always the cooker.”
“Any idea how it works?” she said, looking at the unfamiliar controls.
“No, but let's just try the shower. Ha! One big bowl.” There didn't seem to be another one. They hobbled to the shower turned it to fairly hot, and put their wounded feet in the bowl.
“Mia and Sean, caught hugging each other. And in a shower, no less,” Mia said, but she didn't pull away from him as they slid their backs down the wall to a sitting position. Knowing that he'd kept on helping her when he'd been in the same pain had snapped her out of her self pity. It wasn't that she disliked Sean, after all.
They heard footsteps on the ladder, and soon afterwards Bianca arrived. Seeing Mia's foot was in a bowl of hot water she said, “Well done, looks like you know what to do. Keep the water as hot as you can bear. Is this some kind of solidarity thing, or did one get you too, Sean?”
“One got me too, on the way here.”
“Well, company when you're in misery is said to help. I'll warn the others though, there must be lots about if you both got stung. It might be best people swim rather than walk.”
“Unless you've got a lot more bowls somewhere,” Mia said.
“No, that's the biggest as far as I know. Are you two OK if I go off and raise the alert?”
“Yes,” Mia said, “We're fine.”
“Yes,” Sean agreed.
After Bianca had left, Sean said “Mia, this isn't really the best time to ask...”
“No? You've got a captive audience.” Mia said.
“I would really like to go out with you.”
“I know,” she said, “thank you for being a hero, Sean.” Then to his shock she rested her head on his shoulder. “I'm not the heroine type. I'm amazed I haven't fainted; I know I do at the dentist's. But you kept on going, kept on carrying me, not letting me go or giving up. Thank you. But fifteen is too young for serious romance. That's what they say at Church, and I agree. Better not to get involved.”
“I didn't know you go to Church,” he said.
“Do you?” Mia asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Why?” Mia asked.
“Why do I go, or why only sometimes? I go because God's good, I don't because I'm bad, and the sermons are just so boring.”
“Do you go to a youth group?”
“I hear some churches have one. Ours doesn't.”
“Mine does,” Mia said.
“Is that... an invitation?”
“It's a compromise.”
“I don't understand.”
“I'm not going to go out with you Sean. If by that you mean ice-creams and cinemas and dances. But I wouldn't mind you walking me there and home again.”
“And sitting together?”
“That would sort of be normal if we walk there hand in hand.”
“And we would be?”
“Depends. Should this water be hotter?”
“Probably. I can bear hotter.”
He adjusted the shower temperature. And then she put her head back on his shoulder. “I'm just doing this in case I faint, you understand,” Mia said.
“Oh. Not because you like me then.”
“There isn't going to be romance, or hand holding, until I know more about what you think of God. I'm not a very good Christian, but I am one.”
“I used to go to Sunday school. Asked Jesus into my life when I was eleven. But the Sunday school there isn't for high-schoolers. I got too old, and.... I back-slid, I guess. When I'm right with God, I think things like I'd love to go to a youth group, but don't know which was a good one.”
“And you wanted to go out with me even without knowing if I'm a Christian?”
“I hoped you were. I know Elsie is, and you seemed to spend a lot of time with her.”
“But you didn't ask Elsie about youth groups?”
“No. Too scary.”
“Elsie's scary?”
“Talking to girls is scary.”
“You're talking to me.”
“After a year and three months of not having the courage to.”
“A year and three months?”
“Yes.” He blushed.
“Wait... since that trust game?” They'd been on the same team, and he'd had to carry her while he was blind-folded, with her giving directions. They'd won the race, and he hadn't hit his shins on any of the obstacles.
“Yes. And when I got the frisbee.”
“Is that why you asked about the frisbee?”
“Urm, yeah.”
“What's your favourite Christian song?”
“You really want to know?”
“Go on.”
“I don't know if it's my favourite one, but for some reason, when I see you, I start thinking of a Sunday School song.”
“Which one?”
“The first verse is 'You can be happy, and I can be happy and that's the way it should be.'”
“Doesn't it starts with the chorus?” Mia asked, “God loves you and...” She caught herself.
“'and I love you and that's the way it should be.' I know. And I know why you stopped. It means something different now to what it used to mean, doesn't it? Mia, can we pray? About our feet, I mean? And that I'll be able to stop the whole backsliding cycle thing, and not just because of finding out you are a Christian?”
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BELOW THE ATLANTIC, 6.30PM
“How's the foot, Mia?” Bianca asked.
“Not hurting any more, praise God. But I'm worried about Sean's. I think he's got a spine in his toe.”
“I'll get some tweezers then.”
“I tried with my finger nails,” Mia admitted.
“No good?”
“I think I might have pushed it deeper.”
“I don't think you did, Mia,” Sean objected.
“I'll get a magnifying glass too.” Bianca said “Mia, you're not going to be breaking any dress code or anything, but if your foot's OK, I wonder if you'd like to get changed before we arrive in Atlantis.”
“Oh, are we nearly there?”
“About fifteen minutes before it comes in sight.”
“Thanks, I'll get changed.”
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BELOW THE ATLANTIC, 6.40PM
“Mia?” Elsie asked, “Are you OK? Have a seat.”
“Yes, thanks. Sean knew just what to do. He's going to come to youth group.”
“Oh? Is that what you've been talking about? Telling him the gospel?”
“He's a Christian, just there's nothing at his church for our age, you know? Not good for his walk with God, and he was too scared to ask you about youth groups. He didn't know I was a Christan either, which is sad.”
Sean came along the gangway at that point, dressed, but limping a bit.
“How's your toe?” Mia asked.
“Numb. Bianca put some anesthetic on it because she had to cut out the spine.”
“I'm sorry!”
“It's not your fault, Mia. It was quite deep. Bianca and me think you got part of it out, but the tip had broken off from my walking on it. How's your foot?”
“My foot is fine,” Mia said.
“Is there another problem?”
“Yes. Shuffle along a bit, can you, Elsie? I've got a bad conscience. Sean, sit.”
“Urm, OK.”
“Now, you know how I've been avoiding you the last term?”
“Yes.”
“Just to urm... set the record straight, it wasn't because I didn't like you. It was because I did but thought you weren't a Christian,” Mia said. Then she was quiet, but Sean sensed she wasn't finished. He was right. “I thought it would be much easier to avoid temptation if you didn't ask me out.”
“You did fairly well when I did,” Sean said.
“I think I'll give myself four out of ten. I mean, right from the start I didn't think of praying until you suggested it.”
“I'm really sorry about your foot, Mia,” Sean said.
“It's not your fault.”
“It might be. I prayed that I'd have a chance to talk to you this trip, especially if you were a Christian.”
“And even if I wasn't?”
“Yeah, well, I was sort of hoping that I'd at least find out, and if you weren't I'd sort of hoped I'd be able to convince you.”
“That's the wrong way round.”
“Yeah, I know. I think I only get one out of ten,” Sean saw something out of the window, and exclaimed “Oh wow! Look! We're here.”