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When James picked Emily up the next morning, she noticed two things: he smelled like cinnamonic heaven, and he looked annoyed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as he pulled out onto the main road.
“This is already getting out of hand.”
“What? The windmills? I thought you thought the air horns were hysterical.”
“Well, they were, kind of, unless they do it again. Or unless they do it in front of my house. Look.” He pointed to her right.
She looked. A giant cardboard sign read: SAY NO TO WIND.
“Oh dear,” Emily said.
A hundred yards beyond that: SAVE OUR ISLAND. And then: SAVE THE BIRDS.
She couldn’t help it. She started to giggle.
“I know. It’s kind of funny,” James admitted. “But I have a feeling we’re on the edge of something and if we go over the edge, it won’t be funny anymore.”
The next sign read only INFRASOUND but the word was circled in red paint and a red line was drawn diagonally down through the word. Then the sign was put up before it had completely dried, so the red slash was dripping down the sign, making it look eerily like blood. Emily wondered if this effect had been accidental.
“Yeah,” she said, “I see your point.” The signs were on both sides of the road, all the way into town. “People have been busy. Who has this much time?” she wondered aloud.
“Jane Crockett.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think that woman was just sitting around waiting for a cause.”
“So she was probably behind the air horn protest?”
“They’re calling it a ‘sound demonstration’ and yes, she was.”
“Who told you that?”
“I never reveal my sources,” he said with a half-smile that made her stomach flip. She thought back to the first time she had seen him, on the ferry, on her way to the island, how handsome she had thought he was. But now, it seemed every time she saw him, he grew more handsome. She wondered if he would keep growing handsome—would she wake up after twenty years of marriage and think he was even more handsome than the day before? That pleasant feeling in her stomach morphed into anxiety as she wondered why he hadn’t proposed yet, when he was going to propose, was he going to propose, had he changed his mind, and she silently prayed that God would take that anxiousness from her.
Abe and Lily’s basement, which Emily couldn’t help but think of as Noah’s basement, was crowded as usual. Their band of believers grew every week. The little congregation wasn’t so little anymore.
It seemed the windmill drama didn’t follow the islanders down the stairs—at first. Abe welcomed everyone and then prayed. He prayed for God to be mightily present for their worship, he prayed for Ellie Newman who had just been diagnosed with cancer, and then he asked God to interrupt the windmill plans.
Emily suppressed a gasp and then listened intently to try to ascertain if anyone else in the room was gasping. But the room remained silent. She resisted the urge to look up, but as soon as Abe said amen, she succumbed to her urge and looked around the room. And many a face looked disgusted. Abe, seemingly unaware of his bold provocation, began to invite someone up to give that morning’s message, but he was interrupted by Heather Ginn, MacKenzie’s mom.
“Just a second, Abe. I’m not sure we should be asking God to stop the windmills when most of us in here are for the windmills.” This brought several argumentative grunts. Maybe “most of us” was an exaggeration. Heather, either not hearing the grunts or choosing to ignore them, continued, “God made the wind, so shouldn’t we use it?”
The grunts evolved into groans. Someone said, “Spare us the hippie talk, Heather. This island has done just fine for centuries—”
“Wait!” Abe cried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start an argument. I apologize for my prayer. I was praying my own wants, forgetting that I was speaking for all of us—”
“Well, I think we should discuss it,” someone said.
“We can,” Abe said, “after the service. Right now, I ask you all to join me in prayer again.” Without giving anyone a chance to argue, Abe bowed his head, closed his eyes, and cleared his throat. “Father, forgive me. Forgive me for bringing my agenda into your meeting. Forgive me for making assumptions. I ask you to help us focus on you, on worshipping you. And I ask you to help us live and love like brothers and sisters, even when we disagree. In your precious son’s name, amen.” He looked up, nodded to the man who was to give the message, and then quickly sat down.
Emily looked at James wide-eyed, and James raised an eyebrow that said, “See? I told you.”
