Rooms: A Novel (25 page)

Micah stared at the sand crystals at his feet and thought back to the times over the past four and a half months he had called out to God and how the answers had come. Could Rick be right? Angels? Micah couldn’t get his mind around it.

“So let’s pretend for a moment it was an angel,” Micah said. “Why did it only come after I called out to God? Why not act before?”

“Ah, you presume to know more than you do.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re only looking through the eyes of your own experience. Your mind couldn’t contain all the times God or His angels have acted on your behalf when you had no clue He was doing it and you didn’t call out.”

“You got an example?”

“I don’t need to come up with one, just point out a few you know yourself.” Rick laughed. “Wake up, boy!”

“Fine.” Micah glared at Rick. “How ’bout telling me what I already know.”

Rick’s smile faded. “Has life changed since coming to Cannon Beach? Do you have more freedom? Are you closer to Jesus? Had any powerful experiences? Who got you here in the first place? Did you just up and one day decide, ‘Hey! I think I’ll take a little road trip to Cannon Beach?’” Rick finished stretching and jogged lightly in place.

Micah’s relationship with God, the healings in his soul, the painting, Sarah, all flashed into his mind. And yes, he was freer than he’d ever imagined possible.

“Micah,” Rick said softly as he stopped warming up and stood still. “Who guided Archie to write the letters and have the house built? Who set up our friendship or led you to meet a girl in an ice cream shop?”

Rick sat back down on the log, and they sat for five minutes saying nothing as guys are able to do. Micah was grateful for the time to reflect. The man he’d been when he first set foot in Cannon Beach was gone. He was more alive now than he’d ever been. Yet in some ways it was so far from the world he’d come from, he still felt the foreigner. Not exactly true. Here felt like home, but at the same time the days in Cannon Beach often came at him like an out-of-control freight train, and he couldn’t figure out how to get off the tracks.

Rick broke the silence with words that went to the heart of Micah’s condition. “The King calls us to a life of risk, adventure, and a continual journey into the unknown. The Bible says the Word is a lamp unto our feet. Not a lamp unto our head or a set of running lights where we can land our aircraft. So take one step at a time. Right now you’re desperately trying to figure out how your journey ends. But you must have faith enough to let it go and let Him unveil it in His timing.”

“So what do I do while I’m waiting?”

“Know Him. Grow in intimacy. Follow His voice, and in every decision make the conscious choice to take the narrow path.” Rick got up and walked to the edge of the surf. “Want to do a little wading? We’d better head south unless we want the tide to wash our kneecaps.”

They made it around the south point of Crescent Beach with only minutes to spare—their feet only slightly moist as they jogged back toward Haystack Rock.

As they parted, Rick looked back and gave Micah a cryptic smile. “If I were betting, I’d lay pretty good odds your kayaking beach buddy was indeed an angel.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“In time I have no doubt you’ll figure it out for yourself.”

Rick jogged off, his back to Micah. But Micah could still feel the smile on Rick’s face.

||||||||

The next morning Micah chuckled as he read Archie’s letter because the whole thing was redundant.

October 13, 1991

Dear Micah,

I have prayed for six days over this letter. I am still not convinced it is the time to explain how I have known so much about your present from my vantage point, which from your perspective is the past. However, I will sally forth nonetheless.

Five years ago I met a genuine angel of heaven.

He revealed to me that someday you would lead many to freedom through the abilities the Father had bestowed on you, and I was to have a role in making certain those abilities were used for God’s glory and not buried.

Over the course of a year, this angel revealed to me specifics about your life and instructed me to write them down. I was to then write a series of letters, which of course you now have, and convey to you the things he revealed. Whether you believe in angels or not, hopefully you have found wisdom in these letters and can see they are written with the hand of the Father on them.

My greatest prayer is wherever you are in your journey, you will continue to trust that God has designed this rather odd relationship between you and me and His plans are never wrong.

Across time,

Archie

For the first time in months, Micah went to bed feeling like a mystery had been solved. Finally! An explanation of how Archie knew the things he did. Micah still wasn’t sure he believed angels were popping up in Cannon Beach and other parts of the world to buddy up with Earth’s mortals, but Rick had made a pretty decent case for their existence. It was the best reason he’d found so far to explain Archie’s letters.

Angels? If they were real, he’d need them in the morning. Something told him his conference call with Shannon and his RimSoft VPs would be just as rough as his kayak adventure had been.

CHAPTER 36

Micah woke Thursday morning with a severe case of RimSoft on the brain. He couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Probably nothing. Just feeling a bit rusty due to lack of day-to-day interaction with the company.

He made himself steroid-strength coffee and pounded down two cups in six minutes. Being wide awake was essential. His sabbatical had been in effect for three weeks, and today was the day for a phone conference with his VPs to plow through everything needing his immediate decisions. He needed the call to go smoothly. He needed assurance RimSoft was still booting up without bugs. He needed a few days of normal life, please.

Shannon answered before the second ring. “This is Shannon—”

“Hey, it’s me. Everyone ready?”

“Who is this?”

“In other words, no one’s ready?” Micah chuckled.

“Who . . is . . . this?” she snapped.

“What are you doing? It’s Micah.”

“Micah Taylor?”

“Yeah. Hello. Remember me?”

“Well, hi, Micah. Good to hear from you. How’s the long vacation going?”

“It’s called a sabbatical.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, when the president of the company calls your time away a vacation, it’s a vacation.”

“Exactly. And since I’m not calling it a vacation, it’s not a vacation.”

No answer. Micah started to ask if she was still there when Shannon responded with cool professionalism.

“I like that. Ambition is an excellent quality. And if you are the president of your own company someday, you can call it whatever you like. But for now we’ll call it a vacation.”

Micah sighed and poured a little more coffee to go with his French vanilla cream. “Listen, Shannon. I’m not in the mood for a lot of humor this morning. I just want to get this conference call done and get on with the rest of my day, okay? So let’s get to it.”

Her tone changed from polite professional to ice. “Listen very, very closely. I appreciate the hard work you’ve given this company. I also appreciate that you’re one of its rising stars, but you keep acting like you own the place, and I’ll rip the remaining rungs on this corporate ladder out of your hands and put them in the shredder. Got it?”

Micah’s whole body was instantly hot. She was dead serious. There’d been another shift, and this time it was major.

“Who’s the president of RimSoft?”

“You mean RimWare.”

Micah’s head sank to the oak coffee table.

Not even the same name! RimWare? Didn’t Rick call it that a couple of times? “And my position with the company?”

“Now or before this conversation started?”

“Before.”

“When it started, I had you slated for vice president in a few years. Maybe less. But this display you just put on is not winning you any elections. I don’t have time for these games and neither do you.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry about this.” Micah swallowed hard and dug his knuckles into his forehead. “Just testing out some new ideas I read about on social, uh, trying out ways to influence people and—”

“You’re a strong asset to this company, Micah. But you keep trying that kind of nonsense, and you’ll have more time to relax than you want. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine. No harm done, but lay off the Carnegie crap and enjoy your vacation, okay?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“You’re back when?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Micah heard keys being punched through the phone. “Looks like next Tuesday. Have a different attitude when I see you next.”

Micah’s head reeled. “Can I take one more minute?”

“One.”

“I was just curious about RimSof—uh, RimWare’s stock options.”

“Who have you talked to?”

“No one.”

“Then how do you know I’m taking the company public?” He heard her tapping a pen or pencil with a rapid beat.

He slid to the floor. “I have no stock,” he whispered to the waves outside his window.

“No one has stock. Yet. But if the Wall Street rumors are true, the IPO could rocket out of the gate. The board could easily vote up to five thousand shares for employees of your level, which means based on conservative early estimates, on paper you could be worth as much as $550,000 instantly. You probably wouldn’t vest for a year or two, but that’s relatively quick.”

Micah had a hard time breathing and said nothing.

“Are you there?”

“Um-hmm.” He didn’t trust his voice.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I have to go. See you next Tuesday.”

The phone went dead. Setting it back in its cradle was like putting an octagon peg into a square hole. He finally got it in place and just stared out over the ocean. But didn’t see anything.

||||||||

“Am I losing my mind, Rick?”

“No.”

Rick worked on a breakfast fit for a ranch hand, even though it was past 1:00 p.m. Micah only had coffee, which he hadn’t touched.

“Then what is going on? Some kind of twisted cosmic joke God is playing on me to entertain the angelic host? The ultimate
Candid Camera?
”

Rick shoved the last of his eggs smothered in Tabasco sauce into his mouth.

“Are you listening to me?” Micah said.

“Yep.” Rick went to work on his sourdough toast.

“Do you hear what I’m saying? Two weeks ago everything at RimSoft ran like a Swiss watch. As of today I’ve gone from seriously rich to having virtually nothing. Not only am I no longer president; I don’t own a single share of stock. What’ll I lose next? My life?”

“Uh, maybe, I don’t know,” Rick said as if Micah mentioned it might rain.

“Are you hearing what I’m saying?” Micah popped his hand down on the table hard enough to rattle all the silverware. A few surprised looks came their way, and the waitress who was about to fill their water glasses did a 180 on her heel and skittered back toward the kitchen.

“Knock it off.” Rick looked up, his eyes dark and intense. “You know exactly what is going on here. And you’ve made the choice to make it happen every step of the way.”

“What? I’m living in
The Twilight Zone,
and you’re saying it’s obvious what’s going on? What choices have I made? Enlighten me.”

Rick stood, took wrinkled ten- and five-dollar bills out of his wallet, dropped them next to his plate, and looked down at Micah. “If you need it spelled out for you, it’s in Matthew in black and white. Chapter 13, verses 44 through 46. For you it’s jumped off the page and turned into real life. An amazing gift. But you have to make a final decision on whether it’s worth the price.”

When he got home, Micah slammed the door and screamed at the top of his lungs, “Lord, where are You? Why are You doing this to me?” He hurled his keys at the kitchen counter and watched them crash into the coffeepot, shattering the glass.

He knew he should pray but was exhausted. Tired of no concrete answers. Tired of trying to figure out which life was real and which one he wanted. Most of all tired of seeing his life disappear out from under him.

He glanced at his coffee table in front of his picture windows. Archie’s remaining envelopes sat there, mocking him. He glanced at the calendar on his refrigerator. Six days early. He didn’t care. Micah snatched up letter number fifteen and ripped open the envelope. With the fourteen previous letters, he’d shot up at least a quick prayer for wisdom and understanding. Not this time.

November 4, 1991

Dear Micah,

I have prayed before each letter written in an attempt to write only the words the Lord God would have me write through His guidance and the guidance of the angel I told you about in my last letter. However, in the end I am just a man, and it is only in Him and in His strength I can approach perfection.

That is a lengthy introduction to say I have most assuredly made mistakes in the letters you have read so far, and for that I offer my apologies and ask for your forgiveness. My prayer is that you are taking every scene, decision, and circumstance these letters stir up in you to deep prayer, that my mistakes might be filtered out, and the only remnant that remains would be pure truth.

In the end only one voice matters. Only one.

Micah set down the letter. Of course. In the end only one voice mattered. His own. And he hadn’t been listening.

The end of your journey is coming soon.

Seek Him.

For eternity’s sake,

Archie

Micah folded the letter, then slid it back into its envelope. A sliver of hesitation and apprehension had grown toward the voice, but he pushed through the emotion and strode down the hall. Archie was right. One voice mattered.

Micah pushed open the door and eased inside. “Hey, you awake?”

“If you’re awake, I’m awake.” The voice laughed.

“Yeah, okay. You’re me. I’m you, etcetera.”

Micah sat with the voice in silence.

“My life has disintegrated. Our life. But I’m going to figure this thing out. I refuse to let it beat me. I think the way—”

“The time for thinking and talking is over,” the voice said. “We have to act. Now. You know it. Look what’s happened since we hesitated.”

Micah ran his teeth over his bottom lip and paced.

“Talk to me, Micah.”

“What do you want me to say? Okay. I admit it. I was wrong. I should have listened to you. Archie’s letter spelled it out in black and white. There is only one voice I can trust. Myself.”

“Yes.”

“But if I’m really supposed to go back to Seattle like you say, two things make no sense.”

“What?”

“Those verses in Matthew. You’d have to be spiritually blind not to know what Rick was driving at.”

“What is that?” the voice said.

“Oh, c’mon. I’ll assume that question is rhetorical.”

“Let’s talk it out to be sure.”

“Hello? The pearl of great price? I have to give it all up. All of it. Everything I had, and have, in Seattle for the relationship I have with the Lord down here. That is the choice.”

“Do you want to give it all up?” the voice whispered.

Micah was silent.

“We must be careful not to take any verse out of context. The Christian life is a journey. We’re not instantly at the point of perfection the moment we start out—are we?”

Micah didn’t respond.

“I don’t think that’s what Archie was driving at or what those verses show us.”

“Your theory?” Micah said.

“Don’t misunderstand.” Light laughter floated out of the darkness. “I’m not saying we don’t need to be willing to give everything up and that we shouldn’t be working toward that attitude. We do, but we certainly don’t have to literally give up everything.”

“Maybe I do. This life or Seattle. Not both.”

“Look to the Scriptures, Micah. Zacchaeus, for example. He gave up half, not all,
half
of what he owned, and salvation came to his household. The question was whether he’d given up everything in his heart, not the amount of physical wealth he turned over.

“We cannot just sit back and let God’s blessings come to us. We must take part. We must take action. That is how to show we truly believe. Without action how can we pretend we have faith?”

“And going back to Seattle is a step of faith.” Micah coughed and settled to the carpet, his back against the wall next to the door.

“Yes. We don’t know what we’re going to find there. To leave all that is going on here, to see if what we’ve lost in Seattle can be salvaged, with no promise of any of it coming back? Yes, that is a step of faith.”

“Rick would say the step of faith would be to let all of Seattle go and trust God is in it.”

“Rick is an excellent friend. Wonderful and wise. But with all he is, Rick isn’t you, isn’t us. Don’t you realize how difficult it is to give someone advice when your opinion is skewed by your own life experiences and attitudes? Rick’s experiences taint his advice. It’s why we need each other more than ever. We have the same experiences, the same joys, the same hurts. We know what is right for us because we’re one and the same. What a gift to be able to plan the best course together.”

“And the best course?”

“Don’t you think those in Seattle need to see this new Micah as much as the people down here? The Micah deeply committed to his God again, who can now be an example to all at RimSoft? It just isn’t true that we have to choose one world or the other. I believe with every ounce of who I am that we can have both.”

“Stay involved in both worlds.”

“Cannon Beach is our spiritual escape, a place for renewal and relationship with Rick and Sarah and others. Seattle is for career, fulfillment of your dreams, and the godly influence you can have on so many more people than you can down here.”

Micah’s head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton candy. It sounded so right.

“We need to take action before—”

“Shut up and let me think.” Micah threw his head back and closed his eyes. “I can’t give up what I’ve found here,” he finally said.