He pointed to the water at his feet . . .

“I can guarantee you this water, which is only a foot deep and won’t even come above your rain boots, can’t hurt you. All you have to do is get out of the boat and step in it. You’ll see. Do that, and you will be more free than you have been in a very long time.”

“But . . .”

But suddenly the thought sounded quite appealing. Not stepping out of the boat. Being free.

And the water was only a foot deep.

I’m not sure what came over me in that moment, but I was flooded with a surge of courage and I found myself grabbing the edge of the boat, flinging one leg over, then the other, and dropping into the water.

My boots landed in mud and I came to a jarring halt.

“Jika jika jawa!” Stephen said, stepping back. “Look at you!”

I looked down at the brackish water around my boots, a foot up. And a balloon of giddiness rose through me so that I felt like I was on a cloud.

I gripped my hands together and squealed, knowing that I sounded like a little girl and not caring.

“Walk!” Stephen urged, backing out of the water. “Walk out of the water.”

So I did. And it was simple. I just put one foot in front of the other and I walked.

What would Mother say to this? In that moment, I didn’t care. I was eighteen and I was bold and I was free.

And then I was also out of the water, standing on the bank. Staring up at Stephen, who wore a grin as wide as my own.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you, Eden.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Know that you are loved, my dear,” he said in soft voice. “Know that you can and will rise above all of your fears. I now call you water walker.”

“Water walker?”

“You walked through the waters of fear, didn’t you?”

Yes. I had, hadn’t I? And that immediately brought to mind my other fears. Like being afraid to see Paul. What was wrong with seeing Paul?

“Do you think it’s wrong of me to have a boyfriend?” I asked.

He stared at me, and at first I thought he would think the idea absurd. Who did I think I was, asking a stranger what he thought about such things?

But he didn’t feel like a stranger, and when he answered, his voice was sincere.

“You’re eighteen. In this country that gives you the right to make that decision for yourself.”

“It does.”

“Only you will know if that helps you or hurts you. Always remember one thing: God isn’t a boat, or the water, or any boy for that matter. He’s in your heart. Let go of your fears of this world and find him there.”

His eyes seemed to be melting me. I suddenly felt like I was going to cry.

He lifted his hand and held my shoulder in his gentle grasp. “I wish I could save you from all of your troubles, my child. But you must walk the path before you and walk your own waters to the place where only love resides.”

He kissed my forehead, stepped passed me, and bounded into the boat, which glided deeper into the lake.

“You’re leaving?” I asked.

“So pleased to meet you, Eden. You give me courage. I have to go . . . Not to worry, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He grinned wide. “Go find yourself a boyfriend, you look like you could use some fun.”

And then he was rowing.

I watched him until he was around the corner, still glowing with courage at my accomplishment. It struck me that in just two days I had turned eighteen, I had been asked to be Paul’s girlfriend, I made my first visit into the city, I had become very wealthy, I had met a new friend, and I had walked on water. Kind of.

What would Mother say?

The question jarred me and my eyes snapped wide. The ceiling, not the lake, hung in my vision. It had been a dream. Yes, of course, a dream.

But that was just it: it hadn’t felt like a dream—not at all. And thinking about that, something else struck me: I was going to honor Paul’s request and meet him at the field the next day during my free hour, wasn’t I?

My heart was racing and my skin was wet with sweat. Yes, I was. I was eighteen, I could do that. I wanted to do that. In fact, I had to do that.

Mother will drown you if she founds out.

No . . . No, she couldn’t. I was a water walker.

How little I knew.

EPISODE THREE

16

HAVING MADE the decision to accept Paul’s invitation to meet him in the field, I could think of nothing else. Actually, as I thought about it, I hadn’t so much made a decision as given myself permission, because I could now. I was no longer a young child under the thumb of my mother’s every wish. I had become an adult, and with that came a new kind of freedom.

Mother would say that I was in a state of denial, that place she often accused me of being when I wasn’t readily aware of my sinful thoughts. That I wasn’t feeling guilty about my plan to see Paul because my desire had blinded me.

But I wasn’t blinded. In fact, I was seeing more clearly now than ever. I had faced my fears and I had walked on water so to speak, even if it was only in a dream. Well, I was going to walk some more, right down to the field at four o’clock during my free hour. I would see Paul because seeing Paul was what I wanted.

I must have looked at the clock a hundred times that morning and through the afternoon as I counted down the hours. Never before had my daily rituals or household chores seemed so tedious.

Mother was in an exceptionally good mood, which made perfect sense—she had just come into a small fortune, so when I asked if I could take Bobby to the field during my free hour she gave permission with only a small warning to be careful. I found Bobby playing in his room, and we were out the door before Mother could change her mind.

Bobby kicked rocks as we walked the gravel road toward the field. The day was still hot and the air thick, but I couldn’t have cared less. My heart felt light and for the first time in a while the world seemed new. Hopeful.

He ambled ahead of me and sang so loudly that he startled a flock of birds in a nearby tree. With a loud rush of wings they took flight and disappeared into the dense cover of the swamp.

I laughed, which only made him want to sing louder.

“Bobby Joe, he played three! He played knick-knack in a tree. Knick-knack patty smack, dig the dog a bone! He wants his treats so he’s swimmin’ home!”

He turned around, smiled, and swept his arms through the air with a flourish. “He wants his treat so he’s swim . . .ming . . .home!” He held the last note as long as he could, then beamed, toothy grin spread wide. “Wanna hear it again?”

I laughed. “On the way home, okay? After we’re done at the field.”

“Okay!” he said and pointed to the path just ahead on the left. I could see the field from where I stood and, there sitting in the middle of it, was Paul. “Race you!”

Bobby broke into a hobble-sprint, arms pumping, his clumsy feet kicking up dust as he went. I followed close behind and ran through the short patch of wild grass separating the field from the road.

“I won!” he said and lifted his arms high into the air as I pulled to a stop beside him.

“You’re fast,” I said, but my attention was on Paul who was waiting for me no more than fifty feet away. He was sitting on a checkered blanket he’d spread in the grass.

He stood and waved.

“Hi, Paul!” Bobby yelled and waved back.

“Bobby,” I said, “I’m going to talk to Paul, okay?”

I didn’t want to be rude to Bobby. Having him along was the only reason Mother gave me permission to come to the field. I couldn’t simply abandon him to play alone while I talked with Paul. Yet, I wanted nothing more than to sit on that blanket by Paul’s side. Alone.