God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.
At one time, this passage would’ve filled me with warmth and encouragement. Now, it does nothing but put a bad taste in my mouth.
I climb out of bed, glancing down to find I’m clad in a green-and-white T-shirt with the words CAMP DAMASCUS printed across the front, along with a cartoonish image of several pine trees and yet another crucifix.
The light cascading across my ceiling is streaming through a set of barely opened blinds.
I approach the window and open them with a single swift movement, revealing a large field of well-maintained grass and an American flag waving valiantly from a pole in the middle. On the other side of the field is a row of stark white cabins, which I can only assume run parallel to my own and several others. Beyond that is a thick evergreen forest, but I can make out a second flag pole in the distance, likely marking another clearing.
Strangely, there are no other campers to be found.
I turn back and face the room, preparing to head outside and take a look around, when something bizarre stops me in my tracks. I freeze, gazing at the far wall to discover my shadow has disconnected from my body.
While I’ve moved to the left, the proud silhouette remains firmly planted, hands on its hips in a confident pose.
I hold my hand up in a cautious wave, watching as the shadow remains steadfast in its defiance.
“Come on,” I finally call out, growing frustrated. “We gotta go!”
My shadow shakes its head.
“Yes,” I demand. “I’m the one in charge here.”
I watch as my shadow pantomimes a state of exaggerated laughter, buckling over as it heaves and quakes. Moments later, the silhouette stands back up and shakes its head.
Growing frustrated, I march toward the wall in an attempt to reconnect this trick of light with my physical form. The shadow is too quick, however, leaping out of the way and jumping up onto one of the twin beds.
“Hey!” I yell, irritation bubbling up within me.
I rush to the shadow’s new location and it springs away for a second time.
“Get the heck back here!” I cry, flailing wildly as I attempt to grab the abstract form.
To my shock, it actually works, my grasp somehow causing the shadow to trip through my hands and go toppling into one of the other beds. The silhouette clambers to its feet as I charge toward it, making another dive. I grab again, only this time I manage to get a good hold of my shadow’s leg, yanking it to the ground and dragging it toward me as the outline struggles to pull away.
“You belong to me!” I shout, lost in the moment. “Not anyone else! You understand? You’re my shadow!”
Despite the silhouette’s best escape attempts, I eventually manage to reconnect the figure’s feet with my own. After a good bit of wrangling, my shadow calms down and falls in line, duplicating the movements of my body. It slips back into place like a fitted shoe.
Before I have a chance to enjoy this morsel of success, however, the cabin door flies open with a loud bang.
I glance over to find Saul standing in the doorway, light beaming through and illuminating him with its radiant presence. He’s immediately familiar, but the man who stands before me is quite different from the Saul I know today.
While his arms are still covered in tattoos, the piercings are nowhere to be found. His demeanor is more enthusiastic and bright-eyed than I’m used to, and he sports a tight yellow shirt with the words JESUS ROCKS emblazoned across the front. Depicted under this text is a large boulder that’s been rolled away from a cartoon cavern entrance.
An acoustic guitar is slung over Saul’s shoulder, and he gives it a powerful strum.
“Rise and shine!” Saul calls out. “Another beautiful day!”
“Oh … yeah,” I blurt, taking a minute to collect my bearings and fall in line. I stand up and try my best to act natural.
“You about ready to rejoin the group for today’s temptation talk?” Saul asks, flashing his brilliant smile.
I nod instinctively, playing along.
Saul is unconvinced, gazing at me with doting skepticism. It’s utterly bizarre seeing him like this, the same kind heart wrapped in a strangely alien package. I understand this reality isn’t a pure recollection, that I’m gazing through the funhouse mirror of my subconscious mind, but there’s still truth hidden deep within my brain.
I may not really be talking to an earlier manifestation of Saul, but this approximation certainly arrived from somewhere.
Saul takes off his guitar and gently rests it against the wall, then strolls over and sits directly across from me on one of the beds.
“You’ll probably have a lot to talk about then, huh?” Saul posits.
“Yeah,” I reply, not exactly sure what I’m agreeing with.
“You know why we don’t mix campers from the west cabins and the east cabins,” Saul continues. “You’re a smart girl, I don’t need to tell you this.”
I nod along.
“That’s the thing about temptation,” Saul continues. “It doesn’t care how smart you are. Sometimes being a deep thinker makes it worse.”
I take in his words, listening intently and offering up my best expression of humility. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” I gush.
“You’ve gotta understand, Willow’s trying to get through this process, too,” Saul continues. “If you make contact, you’re not just setting yourself back, you’re setting her back.”
“Understood,” I reply with a nod.
Saul hesitates a moment, his expression shifting into a bemused chuckle. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?” my friend asks.
The distinct change in his demeanor helps me relax a bit, and instead of following my previous strategy of lying low, I find myself pulled in the opposite direction.
I shake my head. “You’re right, that’s not why I’m here.”
“You’re looking for a way down below,” Saul continues.
I nod.
My friend laughs again. “How do you even know it’s underground? Because there’s stonework? You can find stonework anywhere.”
“So it’s not underground?” I press.
Saul shrugs. “I have no idea, I’m just the charming bad boy metal shop counselor who leads worship songs.”
“There’s shop class here?” I ask.
“Gotta teach the guys to be guys,” Saul replies, a twinge of sadness in his voice.
I sharpen my focus on the task at hand, driving home my direct line of questioning. “You really never noticed a suspicious room?” I ask. “A basement?”
“Nope, but you did,” he retorts.
My heart skips a beat as I realize I’m closing in on something important, the abstract nature of this strange world coalescing into coherent truth.
“What did I notice?” I implore.
“Everyone’s split into two groups, the west cabins and the east cabins,” Saul continues. “There’s a central gathering place between the two, with a mess hall, a rec center, and a church for worship.”
“I remember.”
“There are no south cabins,” Saul continues. “The lake is to the south. Which leaves one option.”