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Caitlyn
Mya, of all people, liked Roland. Beautiful, bubbly, blonde Mya Taylor just had to like Roland West. Caitlyn couldn’t stop thinking about it as she stood out in the backyard. It so distracted her that she only heard half of what Zoe said over the cordless phone from the kitchen, and she only pushed her little sister on the swing with half of her regular enthusiasm, and she only kept half an eye on Stacey and David in the sand box. It was a good thing Mom had little Andy in the house. He would probably have rolled off into the neighbor’s yard unnoticed.
“So, is there? Should I bring them? Please say yes,” Zoe said over the phone.
“I’m sorry. What’d you say? Is there what?”
“You’re not even—”
Priscilla lurched back in the swing, burst into song, and rammed Caitlyn with her head. The phone slipped. The screen door opened and David, covered in sand, stepped a foot up into the house.
“Wait, David. Stop!” Mom would kill her. Caitlyn dropped the phone into her skirt pocket and dashed for David.
“I go potty,” David said, desperation in his tone.
“Just . . .” Gripping his wrist, Caitlyn slapped sand from his shins. “. . . one . . .” She brushed sand off his hands and arms. “. . . second.” She ruffled his hair, finding it relatively sand-free. “There. You can go in the house.”
She turned to find Stacey and Priscilla digging in the landscaping.
Caitlyn sunk her hands in her hair, turned heavenward, and groaned. Then she remembered the phone in the pocket of her skirt. And Zoe.
She dug the phone out and pressed it to her ear. “Hello? Zoe?”
“Oh my word,” Zoe said. “Do you live in a zoo? It sounds crazy over there.”
Caitlyn made threatening gestures to get the girls back into the sandbox where they were allowed to dig. They ignored her. “It is crazy. It’ll calm down after dinner. What were we talking about?”
“I was talking about my blow dryer and flat iron, wondering if your campground has electricity. You, however, were distracted, and I doubt it had anything to do with your siblings.”
Determined to get Stacey out of the landscaping, Caitlyn stomped over, grabbed her ponytail and tugged. Stacey whined but got up and slunk to the sandbox. Priscilla made a mean face, propped muddy hands on her hips, and followed Stacey.
“Why do you think I’m distracted?” Caitlyn said to Zoe.
“I don’t think, I know. It’s Mya. Just when you get a crush on someone, she zeroes in on him. I know I’m right.”
Caitlyn hated to admit it. Was she that transparent? Did Roland know she liked him? He probably liked Mya. Mya was going camping, too. Why had she invited her? “Do you think it’s wrong to un-invite someone to something?”
Zoe laughed. “You don’t have to worry about Mya.”
“I don’t?”
“No. Roland already knows you. He’s your friend, right? Maybe he even likes you the way you like him. You just need to find out. But you should probably find out before Mya finds out how he feels about her.”
Caitlyn groaned. If Roland had the slightest interest in Mya, Caitlyn didn’t stand a chance.
“Cait-lyn,” Mom sang through the back screen door. “There’s someone at the front door.”
“I’m watching the kids,” Caitlyn shouted, feeling defeated. “Can’t you get it?”
Mom opened the screen door, a dishtowel in her hand and Andy on her hip. “David’s in the house. Your sisters will be fine. Besides, it’s for you. It’s Peter and one of his friends.”
“One of his—” Caitlyn’s eyes popped. Her heart skipped a beat. She pressed the phone to her ear. “Zoe, I have to go. I think Roland’s at the door.”
“Well, get to work, girl.”
Caitlyn handed Mom the phone as she stumbled into the house. Then she saw them. Sure enough, Peter and Roland stood on the other side of the front screen door. On the way to the door, she smoothed her dress and hair. Something gritty . . . Oh! She still had sand on her hands. She took a second to shake her hair out then pushed open the front screen door.
“Hi,” she said in a strange whispery voice that she’d never used before.
Peter gave her the once-over and smirked. Something on her was out of place, but he probably wouldn’t tell her what until later.
Roland looked only at her eyes. “Hi.” He spoke in an equally whispery voice.
They smiled at each other for a full second, Caitlyn’s heart going wild.
“What took you so long?” Peter plopped down in one of the two lawn chairs on the porch. “Sit down, Roland. She’s not gonna invite us in. It’s chaos in there.”
Roland blushed and sat on the top step of the porch. His hand shot to his side, a sudden look of agony crossing his face.
“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked, concerned.
“Me?” Roland glanced from Caitlyn to Peter, giving Peter a look she couldn’t interpret. “I’m fine.”
Peter laughed. “He just got sucker punched by—” Eyes on Roland, he shut his mouth and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Caitlyn hopped up to sit on the porch rail. She wished she’d been watching Roland so she could’ve seen what look or sign he gave to make Peter shut up.
“Who punched you?” she asked Roland. “Do you hurt? Do you want some ice?”
He shook his head. “I’m all right. It was nothing.” He averted his gaze, which Caitlyn took as his way of saying he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Are you thirsty? Can I get you something to drink?”
“We’re not staying long,” Peter said, still smirking as if he were up to something. “We’re resting up.”
“Resting up? For what?”
“Hey . . .” Peter’s expression turned serious. “Did you know the Finns were building a house?”
“The Finns? From church?”
“Yeah. We’re going over there. We’re gonna help.”
“You are?” A wave of jealousy struck her. Peter planned to help Roland with a project. “Can I help? What are you going to do?”
Peter and Roland exchanged glances.
Roland shrugged. “He never said.”
“Who never said?” Caitlyn asked Roland.
“Jarret,” Peter answered. “Jarret’s over there. Helping. Weird, huh?”
“Why is that weird?” She looked from one to the other.
“You don’t know Jarret,” they said together.
“Hey, did you talk him into going camping?” Peter asked Roland.
Roland shook his head. “He says he has too much to do.” His gray eyes flickered as if something occurred to him. “Do you think he meant working on the house?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, that’s where he’s been going in his grungy clothes, right? He’s working on their house all this time, and here we’re thinking he’s up to no good. Kinda makes you feel like a judgmental scab, don’t it?” He grinned.
Roland shifted his position but still held his aching side. “Yeah. Maybe if we help get the work done, he’ll go camping with us. I know he misses Keefe.” He gazed out at the road.
Caitlyn’s heart melted. “Can I help, too?” She slid off the porch railing and dropped down by Roland. “If we all help, it’ll get done that much sooner.”
She immediately thought of a whole bunch of people who would love to help. The Catholic youth group!
They had recently taken the name Fire Starters which, understood in light of Luke 12:49, was the perfect name for their group. I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!
A few weeks ago, they had only eight regular members. Since last week, they had over twenty, not even counting their non-Catholic friends who sometimes joined them. This all happened after Dominic Miato, a friend of Peter, was miraculously healed through the intercession of Saint Conrad. Caitlyn had witnessed the miracle herself, had even been a part of it, and she still couldn’t get over it. Dominic had lost the use of his legs in a car crash and had been in a wheelchair for years, until just last week. Roland and Peter got the idea of praying for him using a relic of the saint. Caitlyn had joined them, and before their very eyes, Dominic had stood up and walked. Actually walked! Every time Caitlyn thought about it, her heart skipped. She couldn’t stop telling people. Not that she had to. Everyone knew Dominic. He always drew attention, racing down the school halls in his wheelchair. So when he walked into school last week, everyone was amazed.
The youth group had been on fire ever since, growing in members, praying more, praising more, and helping with more projects. They believed God had set a fire in their hearts and their job was to pass it on, thus the name Fire Starters. Would Mr. Finn mind a group with that name helping on his house?