Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The news that the head male cabin leader was in love with the head female cabin leader, and that he was going to ask her to marry him, was actually a well-guarded secret. It spread from Keith, Zeb and Peter to most of the male cabin staff, but it stopped there. None of the maintenance crew were told, as they could not be trusted to keep it from the kitchen girls, and all married men were definitely out of the question. Those entrusted with the information were sternly impressed with the importance of preventing any leaks to the female segment of the camp. After the boldness of that first morning, when whispers of it had spread through the dining hall and some could not keep their well-wishes to themselves, Michael’s plans were kept very hushed up. Encouragement was now given quietly, discreetly, and most often in private.
So it was with great difficulty, a talent for disappearing into the background, and much eavesdropping, that Jasmine came into this information. It took no extraordinary effort to see that despite a promising beginning, her latest attempt to keep Michael away from Jesse had failed. He was only more attentive, more affectionate, and more flirtatious than ever. But she didn’t know the whole truth of it until Sunday night, the first day of Intermediate II. By some manoeuvring she had caught the beginnings of a conversation between Mark and Peter at ‘intro chapel’ lineup that sounded interesting. When their talk was cut short by the call to enter the chapel building, she managed to seat herself across the aisle from the pair. Their attention was on the campers in the beginning, but when Bob began ‘introducing’ the rules and procedures of camp, which every staff member there could have recited by memory, they began passing a folded piece of paper back and forth behind the backs of two campers. Jasmine watched it travel between them, she saw Mark finally crumple it in his hand, and when they were finally dismissed, she saw him drop it in the garbage can at the back of the chapel. While her campers were eating snack that evening, she excused herself to retrieve the Bible she had ‘forgotten’ on her chair. The scrap of paper, smoothed out carefully in her hands, confirmed more than she had suspected. It began with Peter’s writing.

- Keith says Mike hasn’t asked her yet
- Did he say why?
- Just wasn’t the right time
- He does realize there is only one weekend and two weeks of camp left?
- He’ll do it, don’t worry.
- You think he’s scared?
- Probably. Wouldn’t you be?
- As if! Did you see me with Amy Laverly last week?
- Dude, you got her to give you an extra bowl of ice cream, you didn’t ask her to marry you. And she gives Zeb extra desserts all the time, so I wouldn’t let it go to your head.
- Dude, that’s harsh.
- Yeah, well you’re short. Life’s going to be harsh.

The world was conspiring against her. The universe hated her. Jesse McDougall had sold her soul to the devil and was now reaping the rewards. How else could this be happening? It didn’t make any sense! She was a hypocrite, a liar, a cheater, she was fat - and the most perfect guy in the world was about to propose to her: a guy so great he seemed to have come from another planet; a guy who had actually seemed to care about her, if only for a few seconds; the only guy who had ever looked at her as though she were a human being, as though she were worth something.
It was time she faced reality: guys like that didn’t fall in love with girls like her. She knew that now, she should have known it all along. There was only one way she could get a guy, and that way wasn’t going to work with Michael Brown.

Sunday night rounds were a killer. Jesse had to personally enforce quiet time in more than half the girls’ cabins, interrupt an unauthorized inter-cabin pillow fight, and almost sent two campers home for being outside after second bell. However, there were no late-night hospital runs, and for that she was grateful.
When she finally decided it was safe to leave the cabins on their own, she found Michael waiting for her on the field, standing in a patch of light. His hands were in his pockets, and his head looked down at his feet, which were shuffling and kicking at dust boyishly, but he lit up when he saw her. She met him there, let him take her hand, and he led her to their picnic table. They sat very close and talked of little, and when she grew cold she rested her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. They stayed that way for quite a while, harmlessly intimate. They were asleep in their respective cabins, however, when Jasmine crept out into the moonless night to meet Ray Jansen in the church basement.
Ray was no Michael. He wasn’t handsome, he wasn’t tall, and he didn’t listen to her when she talked. But he looked at her, and she could tell he liked what he saw. He was nineteen, and this was his second week as a cabin leader. He’d flirted with her last week, and she’d been depressed enough by seeing Michael and Jesse’s growing closeness to let him kiss her in the staff room. She’d played it safe, though, because despite everything she still held out hope. Now there was no reason to hold out. It was clear that she couldn’t have Michael, but she could have Ray.

Jesse watched Jasmine push her lunch around her plate. At Samantha’s suggestion, Jesse was sitting at the dark-haired girl’s table, and she now saw what Sam had been so concerned about. A remarkably small amount of food was actually making its way to Jasmine’s mouth. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all last night. Her skin was paler than normal, she didn’t speak and rarely even looked up. Worse, when Jesse tried to talk to her, she received a look that she could only describe as that of pure hatred. It was an uncalculated look, devoid of meanness... as if the girl were simply too weary to hide the darkness in her soul behind a mask of civility. It scared her, but there was pain behind the hatred that was even more frightening.
Jesse was chastened by the fact that Samantha had noticed Jasmine’s despondency before she had. Even without taking care of a cabin this week, she felt distracted, and worried that she wasn’t doing her job properly. Her responsibility was to the female cabin staff, but more and more of her emotional energy was being drained elsewhere. The baby was keeping her up more at night, leaving her physically exhausted, and worrying about their future didn’t help matters any. Then there was Keith’s project. It made her glad, in a way, that he was doing it, but the memories that were brought up in helping him with it couldn’t help but hurt. To make it even worse, she could hardly ignore the fact that tomorrow was her birthday. And then there was Michael. There seemed to be little of her left over for her girls.
Nevertheless, most of them were doing fine. Many were tired and worn out from running on adrenaline all summer, and some had developed a cold that was going around, and needed extra time off once in a while. Yet none of them gave her any trouble, and she had great confidence in most of them; but she knew she had overlooked Jasmine.
If any of the other girls had suddenly appeared as wretched as Jasmine did that day, Jesse felt sure she would have noticed it right away and done something about it. She would have talked to her, found out what was wrong, and done what she could to help. Jasmine, however, intimidated her. She had met very few people who disliked her so completely, and never had anyone at Bible Camp been so openly mean to her. From the first she felt, quite correctly, that Jasmine would not want to talk to her, or to be helped by her, and she wasn’t sure what she could do, or how to go about doing it. So it was not surprising that she soon learned to let Jasmine alone, leaving her to her own devices. On the surface she treated her the same as anyone else, giving her regular evaluations, putting an encouraging note in her mailbox every week, and even inquiring personally after her health and well-being once in a while. But she never went beyond the superficial duties, never tried to be her friend, and because they weren’t friends she didn’t notice her moods and movements the way she did the rest of her staff. Now she realized where her neglect had led her. Here was a girl in need of support, and she was lost as to how to offer it, because there was no basis of trust, in either direction. Any overture she made was bound to be met with outright disdain. If only she had made more of an attempt earlier in the summer...but no, she couldn’t let her past mistakes ruin her chances now. There had to be something she could do. If only she could find out what was wrong.

Susannah was not lazy, exactly. She was a good assistant cabin leader, she liked her campers, and they liked her. She prayed for them and did her best to be a good Christian example. However, she also knew how great she looked with a tan, and could often be seen lying on the grass or on a picnic table during swim and free time. She was always happy to have her campers come and talk to her, and gladly yelled at kids if she happened to see them doing anything nefarious, but in her opinion they did not require her constant vigilance, nor her interference in their games. Her head cabin leader had no complaint to make against her, since she felt allowances should be made for differences of personality; so as long as she was visible and somewhat aware of her surroundings, she was free to do as she liked.
It was during such a time on Monday afternoon, as she was sunning herself on her cabin steps (she was on duty in the girls’ cabin area that day), that she opened her eyes and saw the now noticeably pregnant Jesse, sitting on the porch beside her. She hadn’t heard her approach, but she felt it when she sat down.
“Hi,” said Jesse.
Susannah squinted in the brightness that surrounded Jesse’s silhouette. “Oh, hi,” she said. “What’s up?”
Jesse leaned over to look in her eyes. “I need some help.”
Susannah was game and quickly agreed.
“It’s about Jasmine.”
Susannah’s face blanched, and she reluctantly sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. She felt a little bit like a traitor, being friends with Jasmine, and liking Jesse as much as she did. She couldn’t understand what Jasmine had against her.
“I don’t know her very well,” said Jesse, “but I’m concerned about her. I know you and Hannah are her friends, and I thought you might know if there was something I should know about.”
Susannah wasn’t sure what she meant. “Like, what?” she hedged.
“Well, does she seem different to you? Today especially. I know she’s never the cheeriest person, but she isn’t eating or talking today, at least not around me. I know she doesn’t like me,” she said, precluding an objection from Susannah, “but I don’t care about that. I need to know if something’s happened since yesterday, whether it’s something I’ve done or not. I only want to help her.”
Susannah let out a sigh, either from relief or regret, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if anything’s happened. I haven’t talked to her today, and she seemed alright yesterday. She’s been kind of gloomy for a while, but she’s been eating and talking. I could ask Hannah,” she suggested, “I think she talks to her more.”
“It’s ok, I’ll talk to Hannah,” said Jesse. “But thanks.” She smiled and got up to leave, but Susannah stopped her.
“Do you think it’s anything really bad?” she asked, worry clouding her pretty face.
“I don’t know,” said Jesse. “I hope not, but it wouldn’t hurt if you prayed.”

Hannah did know more than Susannah. She was sharp-eyed, and knew before breakfast that something was amiss. She also had her suspicions as to the cause, but she wasn’t about to tell Jesse.
“I couldn’t say,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe she’s not hungry today, or she has cramps or something. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Jesse was surprised. It was obvious, even to her, that Jasmine’s behaviour indicated problems far beyond a stomach ache. “I think there’s more to it than that. She’s not talking....”
“You mean she’s not talking to you.” Hannah tried to ignore the pained expression on Jesse’s face. “I don’t want to be rude or anything, but has she ever talked to you, voluntarily?”
Jesse didn’t have an answer to that.
“She just doesn’t like you very much,” she said as gently as possible. “I understand if it hurts your feelings, but it’s nothing new. You haven’t concerned yourself with it before, why start now?”
She expected Jesse to get angry, or maybe to cry. She was sorry to have to do it, but it was the lesser of two evils. She couldn’t let Jesse do something stupid, like confront Jasmine. She could see only pain for both of them, and much worse than what she was inflicting now, if she did that. Jasmine would likely say some very nasty things, incriminating herself in the process, and get herself sent home. But when Jesse simply sat down, accepting the criticism as though it were a fair one, she almost took back all her harsh words.
“I know,” said Jesse, hanging her head in shame. “I’ve neglected her. I didn’t try hard enough to get to know her, and I didn’t love her like I should have. Maybe it’s too late, but I’m trying to make up for it now. I know there’s something wrong, and I really do want to help.”
Hannah had to harden her heart. “It is too late,” she said grimly. “I think you should leave Jasmine to her real friends.” Then she left her alone.

Jesse went to bed early that night, and prayed very earnestly. Though she’d failed to get any closer to Jasmine through her friends, she had become more sure of there being something wrong. She prayed that God would somehow help Jasmine to get through it, whatever it was, and she prayed also that he would give herself the strength and the wisdom for whatever part she might have to play in it. Mostly, though, she prayed for forgiveness. She asked God to forgive her for ignoring Jasmine, just as she’d ignored Jeremy.
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Some depths of evil go beyond what man is normally capable of - and he is capable of much. Bent toward wickedness even from birth, there is yet in him the knowledge of a Creator - whether he recognizes him or not - who will hold him to account. Satan knows this, and tempts only as far as he thinks he is likely to succeed, as far as a man’s ‘conscience’ will allow him. He uses lies, and disguises himself, making evil appear good, which is what he is best at. Yet the Devil is more wicked than any man, and he craves even more power. If he or his demons see an opening, they are swift to take it. Somewhere, every once in a while, a line is crossed, and demonic influence becomes demonic control. The darkness eclipses the light, and only then is the most awful depravity made possible.
Few have seen the full and unmasked face of the Devil; Jesse was one of them. Three times she faced him, in the blackness of a cellar, surrounded on all sides by concrete walls. There was nowhere to go, even if she could have twisted free of the ropes that held her, for the doors were locked and the windows, if there were any, were covered. She would face him, and she would never be the same girl she had once been. Her body was used, her mind altered, her soul overcome. There was a part of her, though, that did not die, because she was not alone in that cellar. There was a spirit within her that gave her strength when she had none, that held her bones and sinews together when they would have fallen apart. The spirit of God was with her even in that place, and it kept her alive, though she wanted to die.
When they thought she was dead, they packed her in the truck and threw her in a swamp. The fishes would soon have picked her bones clean; but she wasn’t dead. She was cut, torn, and bleeding, but the pain told her that she was alive. It wasn’t her time to die. So she crawled through the mud that sucked at her wounds, through the grass that cut like knives, and over torturous rocks, till she reached the side of a road. She lay there for an hour before a car drove by, and by that time she was unconscious. The vehicle screeched to a stop and backed up beside her, and while one of the men doubled over at the sight of her, the other used his cell phone to report the body of a young girl on rural route #1. The paramedics that came with the ambulance were the first to recognize that she was alive.
She had been gone only one night and a day, but she did not wake for eight days. The doctors performed tests that she was mercifully unaware of. No one even knew who she was until the third day, when her roommate reported her missing and her parents came to identify her. Until then the nurses were the only ones to cry over her.
She stayed in the hospital for three more weeks. She calmly answered the police officers’ questions, though they asked the same ones several times over. She said and felt nothing when she missed her first period. She stopped fighting almost completely, except that she refused to let the male doctor anywhere near her, even when her own parents sided with him. Eventually a female doctor took over, but she didn’t talk to her parents for a week, feeling betrayed by them. Still, her mother stayed, because Jesse wouldn’t sleep without her there beside her.
When she was well enough, she went home. She could not go back to school, because her mind needed time to recover as much as her body needed to heal. Her first, and likely her last year of university, went unfinished. She gave up the room in the seven-bedroom house that she would have shared with six of her closest friends the following year. She didn’t choose a major. She said goodbye to the little church she’d attended for eight months, and to the ambitions of higher education, and she went home.
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She woke up in a cold sweat from a horrible nightmare, which she remembered in great detail. In this one, she had been drowning in a swamp, face down. She saw the mud on the bottom, and then came hordes of tiny fish, taking little bites out of her. She saw them, and felt them, but she couldn’t move to stop them. Now awake, she rapidly pulled herself out of the suffocating sleeping bag and felt all over her body, arms, legs and neck. She felt the still unfamiliar scars, but was convinced that she was whole, with no bites taken out of her. She struggled to gain control of her breathing, to calm herself down, and to suppress the sobs that threatened in her chest. It was still the middle of the night, and she didn’t want to wake anyone, for surely they were all sleeping peacefully. But she was not the only one who had nightmares.

Jasmine dreamed that night, the same dream she’d had the night before. It came to her again - the little black baby. Not a sweet ebony-coloured infant that one could wrap in a blanket and love, but a twisted, mangled thing, a charred black monster, like a log that had been burned in a fire. It had no eyes, but it had a vile mouth that spewed horrible things at her, recounting all her sins and calling her filthy names.
Whore! Slut! Who could ever love you? Liar! Murderer! You should have never been born! You were rotten from the moment of your birth!
It screamed at her unrelentingly. It pointed a black finger at her, and spit in her face. She recoiled from the frightful image and covered her ears against its accusations, but she could not escape it.
She knew what this was, and why it came to her now. It was her baby, the one she had killed; the one she’d had ripped from her womb and thrown away so that no one would ever know what she was. But now it was back, because she’d done it again. It knew the first time, and it knew this time. It knew everything she had ever done, and it was there to remind her of it all. It was a foul, unholy thing - a corpse that would not stay buried, a stain that wouldn’t wash out; a dark spot on her stomach, and it was growing. It was coming! Everyone would know! She couldn’t let that happen. She had to stop it.

Jesse heard a scream. Panicking, she covered her own mouth with her hand to smother the sound...but it wasn’t coming from her. The noise was outside. She leaned forward to look out her window and saw the bushes and long grasses blowing wildly on the steep bank. The scream might have just been the wind...but then she heard it again. That wasn’t the wind, it was a person.
She dashed outside without even grabbing a sweater and looked about frantically, searching for the source of the sound. There was a movement over on the beach, and she ran toward it. As she came closer she could see black hair being whipped crazily by the wind, and then a gaunt, upright figure outlined by paper-thin pyjamas blown against her skin. It looked like Jasmine from the back, but she didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. She was alone, anyway; but something about the scene gave Jesse an eerie feeling, and she slowed from a run to a walk, treading cautiously.
She reached the edge of the grassy bank, unsure if she should go further or call to Jasmine from where she stood. She didn’t want to startle her, especially if Jasmine were sleepwalking, though she had never seen a sleepwalker like this.
Jasmine stood at the edge of the water, and her hands seemed to be clutching her abdomen. The bottom buttons of her pyjama top were undone, the corners flapping behind her in the wind. Throwing her head back, she emitted another unearthly wail.
It sent shivers up Jesse’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Not knowing what else to do, she began to approach her, one step at a time. Her senses were heightened, and the sand was cold and unpleasant on her bare feet. Still, she moved slowly, and Jasmine didn’t seem to notice her. Soon she could see that the girl wasn’t holding her stomach; she was pounding it with her fists.
“Jasmine!” she gasped.
A deathly pale face turned toward her. In the faint glow of the moon she seemed to be some tormented spirit-ghost, with eyes that looked straight through her. Jesse had to push down a sudden jolt of fear, and fought to think rationally. Jasmine needed help. Her face was streaming with tears, and even as Jesse watched, her shoulders convulsed in a fit of sobs, and her fist continued to beat her own stomach in sickening rhythm. It seemed to be covered in something...marker, maybe, or scratches.
But then Jasmine turned away suddenly, as though she hadn’t really seen Jesse standing there. “Go away!” she screamed, but Jesse didn’t think she was talking to her. “You’re dead! Leave me alone!” she cried to some unseen thing over the water.
Jesse decided to try talking. “Who’s here? Jasmine?” Her voice sounded nervous and hollow to her own ears, but it was better than nothing. “Who do you want to go away?”
Jasmine clenched her teeth against a guttural moan, and only hit herself harder. But Jesse thought she had heard her.
“Who, Jasmine?” Jesse yelled at her now, taking a step towards the girl.
Dry sobs racked her thin frame. She shook her head fiercely, as if trying to shake Jesse’s voice out of her head. Jesse was obviously upsetting her, but this time she answered. “My ba-by,” she sobbed.
Jesse took a deep breath. “I didn’t know you had a baby,” she said loudly, but calmly, she hoped.
“I didn’t!” she cried defiantly into the wind, “I killed you! You’re supposed to be dead!”
Jesse took another step toward her, then stopped short, seeing a glint of metal.
“Jasmine! No!”
There was no time to think. She ran and leaped at the deranged girl, grasping for her wrist, but it was too late. Jasmine had already plunged the knife into her own flesh. Jesse covered her hands with her own, preventing her from drawing it back out.
“Jasmine, look at me.”
And for once, she really did. Jasmine looked at her, and saw her. She gasped quickly, as though she were surprised to see her there. Whether the pain or Jesse’s voice had finally broken in and shocked her out of her trance, she was now cogent. She wasn’t fighting anymore, but she still had a death-grip on the knife, which was lodged just below her belly button.
“You?” she said, and then her face contorted painfully, and she collapsed.
Jesse half-caught her, stumbling and landing in the sand herself, but managing to keep one hand on the knife. Jasmine’s head and shoulders ended up in her lap. “Oh God,” Jesse murmured, reeling at the sight of the red blood covering Jasmine’s middle. “God, how could she have done this?” Jasmine looked up at her for one brief moment, then closed her eyes.
Jesse couldn’t leave her, but she couldn’t carry her either, so she called for help. After the screams that had already been uttered that night, the whole camp should have been awake, but there was no sign of anyone. Somehow she knew, though, that he would come if she called him, because he was close and because she needed him.
She didn’t didn’t see him running out to her in pyjamas and bare feet, or removing her hand from the handle of the knife to wrap his t-shirt around it. She only remembered him gently lifting Jasmine from her arms and carrying her toward the nurse’s cabin. She didn’t remember running to Bob and Kim’s house or banging on their door to wake them, but she remembered Kim’s anxious expression when she appeared, wrapped in a pink housecoat. She remembered telling the nurses at the hospital what had happened, but had no idea how she got there, or where they had taken Jasmine, or if she was even alive. She was aware that she woke up in the waiting room, with her head on Michael’s chest and his arm around her shoulders, but couldn’t remember falling asleep. She heard the doctor tell them that Jasmine was going to be ok, but he wouldn’t say anything else.
It was an unreal night, like a nightmare invading the earthly world. But for the very real human contact, Jesse would have thought herself asleep.
They left when Jasmine’s parents arrived. They looked cold and walked briskly, hardly acknowledging Bob and completely ignoring the rest of them. They had to know what had happened to their daughter, but their faces betrayed no worry. Jesse felt immediately that Jasmine would be made to feel how much her actions had humiliated and embarrassed her parents. After everything she had been through, she didn’t deserve this.
She wondered if they knew about their daughter’s abortion, if they had talked her into it, or if she had done it to hide her pregnancy from them. She wondered if they knew how the memory of it haunted her, and if Jasmine would ever be able to have a child after this. Most of all, she wondered what had driven her to the madness she had witnessed. Had she been dreaming, sleepwalking? Hallucinating? Did she know what she was doing, had she been in control of herself? As she walked out of the hospital, she doubted if she would ever know.

Jesse never divulged everything that had happened that night. She didn’t feel she had a right to. She would say, truthfully, that she had woken to Jasmine’s screams, and found her apparently sleepwalking on the beach. She’d tried to talk to her, but Jasmine had given no rational answer, and then stabbed herself in the stomach before Jesse could stop her. This is what she told Bob, and what he told the rest of the staff. It was shocking enough news, to come near the end of a summer already fraught with more shocking tales than anyone felt was necessary.
Only one person asked her if there was more to the story. Hannah boldly motioned her away from the evening campfire, and Jesse followed, sensing that it was something important. When they reached the dining hall stairs, Hannah asked Jesse to tell her exactly what had happened the night before.
“Bob told you what happened,” Jesse answered.
“But you’re the one who was there. You talked to her. What did she say?”
Jesse knew she couldn’t evade her anymore. “I can’t tell you that,” she confessed. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“So she did say something,” Hannah surmised.
“She was dreaming,” said Jesse. “She didn’t know what she was doing.”
Hannah looked her over warily. “What if I knew something about Jasmine that you didn’t know. Would you want me to tell you?”
Jesse set her jaw firmly. “I’m not negotiating, Hannah. If you know something that could help her, I need to know. She’s my responsibility, not yours.”
“She’s my friend!”
“Then tell me what you know,” said Jesse.
“Are you going to help her?” asked Hannah. Her face and voice were serious. “I need to know that you’re not going to get mad or make things worse for her.”
Jesse softened. “I won’t be mad at her. I’ll do whatever I can to help her, honestly. Just tell me.”
Hannah knew she could trust her, and she meant to tell her all along, but she’d needed Jesse’s word so that she’d remember not to get angry. Now she could tell her. “Jasmine slept with Ray Jansen.”
She was going to kill him. That slimy little...she couldn’t think of a word bad enough. She’d never trusted him. She’d known all along that he was no good, Jesse told herself. He was creepy, an obvious fraud. She marched straight towards him through the crowd thronging to the dining hall for their nighttime snack. An icy glare was on her face that frightened those who saw it.
Ray didn’t see her till she was a few feet away, and in his surprise he raised his hands defensively and had to take a step back or she would have plowed right into him. Jesse was just as tall as him, maybe a little taller, and she was as mad as she’d ever been in her life. For half a second he wondered if she was going to hit him, but she just took another step closer, standing close enough that she could whisper and only he would hear.
“Go back to your cabin and pack your bags,” she whispered in his ear with deceptive calmness. “Then bring them to the office. You’re going home.”
She gave him one final look of violence that dared him to disobey her, and Ray knew better than to take it. He took another step back, looking at her as though he had no idea what she was talking about, then turned and left for his cabin. Jesse watched him for a moment, then headed for the office, trying to think of something to tell Bob that would convince him to send Ray home. The truth would do it, but a part of her wanted to protect Jasmine. For some reason she felt that Ray was the more guilty party. Besides, Jasmine had suffered enough.
Michael caught up with her at the office steps. She had no intention of stopping, so he had to more or less throw himself between her and the office door to get her to answer him.
“Whoa, there,” he said nervously, as if he was afraid she was going to walk right through him. “Just a quick question, and I’ll be out of your way,” he promised. “Did you just send Ray Jansen home?”
“Yes,” said Jesse.
He waited, but she offered no explanation. “Do you want to tell me why?”
“No.” He had a right to know. Ray was his responsibility, just as Jasmine was hers. If he asked her to tell him, she would have to, but until then she was going to keep it to herself.
Michael looked at her warily, then made a decision. “Alright then,” he said. “Do you want me to tell Bob?”
She breathed a sigh of relief: he trusted her. “Yes,” she said, “I’d appreciate that.”
“Ok, I will.” That was it. She left, and he went inside.

The next morning at flag raising, Ray was gone, and Michael stood with the cabin that had lost a counsellor. He didn’t seem to mind it at all, and the boys didn’t seem to miss Ray too much, either. Jesse had moved one of her girls from a cabin that had three leaders to take Jasmine’s place, rather than fill it herself. It didn’t make sense for both her and Michael to take on extra work if they didn’t have to, and as much as she loved being in a cabin, she wasn’t sure she could handle it right then.
For the next few days she barely went through the motions of her job, and found no joy in it. The torment she had witnessed in Jasmine stayed with her, plaguing her thoughts. She had tried to expel the evil of that night by banishing Ray, but it lingered still, casting a shadow over everything that had once seemed good. Her bubble had been broken again, and this time she couldn’t put it back together.
Jesse’s near-depression did not go unnoticed. The entire camp was affected by what had happened, but to them it was a tragic and freak accident, nothing more, so Jesse’s despondency was unusual. Phil sought her out, but when her friend didn’t talk, she settled for giving her more hugs than usual, which always produced a smile, if only briefly. Kim Owen had her over to the house on two evenings, giving her tea and cookies and ‘grown-up’ company. Those evenings did seem to lift her spirits, but Jesse never revealed what was troubling her. Finally, Bob told her to take Saturday morning off, and sent her home on Friday night.
Her aunt Sandra picked her up on her way in from the city, and she had to stop at the hospital before heading out to camp. She surprised Jesse by saying that her friend Jasmine was still a patient, but her parents had left, and suggested she visit with her while they were there.
Jesse entered the room with some reservation, but also with a deep longing to see the girl who’d caused her days and nights of worry, and to talk with her if she could. Jasmine lay on a bed with her head to the side, looking at the window on the far wall. She was startled by Jesse’s entrance.
“Hi,” she said simply.
“Hi,” said Jesse. “Mind if I come in?”
They exchanged a few words about camp and hospitals, with long awkward silences in between, until Jasmine dared to ask what Jesse had told the others about that night on the beach. She was greatly relieved at the answer.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. She knew she didn’t deserve Jesse’s kindness, but she had allowed herself to hope for it. “And thank you, for being there. I might have...killed myself.”
“You didn’t want to kill yourself, did you?” Jesse couldn’t help asking. There was so much about this girl that was still a mystery. “Do you remember?”
Jasmine nodded, and tears slipped out the corners of her eyes as she lifted them to look into Jesse’s face. “What happened to me?” she asked desperately. “I don’t...I don’t want to die. I don’t want to hurt myself...but it was so awful...it’s like there’s this dark spot inside of me that won’t go away, and I can’t live with it.”
Jesse grasped Jasmine’s hand impulsively. “I know,” she said.
“But you don’t know!” she said, pulling her hand out of Jesse’s. “You’re perfect! You’ve never done anything bad, not like me. How could you know?”
“You’re right,” agreed Jesse. “I don’t understand what it’s like, but not because I’ve never done anything bad. I don’t have that dark spot because I know I’ve been forgiven. You know this - you’ve been teaching it to kids all summer, I’ve heard you do it! Your own words - Jesus Christ died to pay for the sins of the whole world, no matter how big. That includes yours.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done!”
“Yes, I do,” said Jesse.
Jasmine’s eyes widened. “What do you know?” she asked fearfully.
Jesse didn’t answer.
“Tell me what you know!”
So Jesse told her. “I know you had an abortion, and I know about Ray.”
Jasmine smirked. “And you still think your precious Jesus wants to forgive a whore like me? A murderer? I should have never been born! I’m useless!”
She was still talking when Jesse gathered both her hands in her own and closed her eyes, leaning over her.
“I’m going to hell, and that’s where I belong! There’s nothing I can do. No man dying on a cross can pay for my sins - I’m paying for them myself! God hates me, and he’s going to punish me!” Her angry, despairing words failed to move Jesse, and she eventually stopped, out of breath. “What are you doing?” she asked, finally.
Jesse’s eyes remained closed, and she still grasped Jasmine’s hands. “I’m praying,” she said, in a quivering voice.
Jasmine wavered. “Why are you praying?”
“Because I don’t know what else to do,” she answered truthfully.
“What are you praying for?”
“That you’ll stop believing these lies.” Even as she spoke, she felt Jasmine stiffen beneath her.
“I know more than you’ll ever know,” she said spitefully. “You still believe children’s stories.”
“And you believe the devil’s lies.”
“The devil owns me!” she declared.
Jesse clung to her hands, and tears and drops of sweat fell on them. God, help her see, she prayed. Open her eyes, show her that you’ve freed her. Let her see the truth and believe it.
“The devil has no right to you,” she said out loud. “God paid for you. He gave his own son for you.”
“Why would he want me?”
“Because he loves you.” God, please! She’s heard this so many times, she knows it! Why won’t she believe it?
“Do you love me?” Jasmine whispered.
Jesse opened her eyes and looked at her. “Yes, I love you.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s the truth!” Jesse said.
“I don’t deserve anyone’s love.”
God, I don’t know what to say. “No one deserves love. God doesn’t love us because we deserve it, he loves us because he’s God, because he is love.”
“No,” said Jasmine.
“He loves you, Jasmine.” Oh God, show her your love.
“No,” Jasmine said again, weaker.
Jesse’s voice was haggard, but clear. “Jasmine, God loves you.”
Jasmine closed her eyes, and Jesse did likewise.
“God loves you.”
Again, there was no answer.
God, please! I can’t do this. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her, she won’t listen to me. Make her hear. Tell her yourself. God, break into her heart. She’s hurting so much. She doesn’t even know what love is. Show her.
I love you.
“No,” said Jasmine.
Jesse opened her eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said no!”
“No what?” Jesse pressed her. “I didn’t say anything.”
Jasmine looked at her intently. “Yes you did.”
God, what’s happening? “What did I say?” Jesse asked.
“You said you loved me.”
“What exactly?” Jesse insisted.
Jasmine frowned. “You said ‘I love you’. Just like that.”
Jesse shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well someone said it! I’m not going crazy! I heard it, and you’re the only one in the room.”
Jasmine, I love you.
“There, you said it again!”
“I didn’t say anything!” Jesse protested. “I’m right here, in front of you! Did you see my lips move? It wasn’t me! You know it wasn’t me!”
I love you, Jasmine.
“Oh God,” Jasmine gasped, a look of terror on her face.
“God’s speaking to you, Jasmine,” said Jesse excitedly. “Listen to him! If you can’t believe me, believe him!”
I love you.
“He can’t.” She was shaking.
I love you.
She broke. “Alright!” cried Jasmine, “I believe you! I believe you, God!” She clung to Jesse’s hands now, and her fierce resistance melted away. “Oh God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Forgive me, please forgive me. Oh God, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.”
Thank you, Jesse prayed. Thank you. Thank you. Waves of relief washed over her, then joy. She was safe. She waited there until Jasmine’s breathing slowed.
Someone knocked on the door. Jesse turned around to see her aunt in the doorway. “Ready to go?” she asked.
“Just a minute,” said Jesse, surprised at the steadiness of her own voice. Aunt Sandra walked down the hall, and Jesse looked again at Jasmine. She was sleeping soundly. Jesse left her that way, not knowing what to think, but knowing that the burden on her heart was lifted.