Slipping behind a huge trash dumpster, Sarah landed as teenage boy. With a baseball cap pulled low, white t-shirt, denim jacket hanging open, and jeans worn low on the hips, she sauntered into the store. Good—a man and not a female stood behind the counter. Surely this old gent wouldn’t try to flirt with her—those things had happened on past trips.
“Hello, young fella. What can I do for you?”
“I need directions.” Using her boyish voice, Sarah pulled out her scroll, unrolled it, and pointed to a street. “Can you tell me where this is?”
“Well, I’ll be. Harold, come look at this map. Have ya ever seen anything like this before?”
Sarah inwardly churned—great! Just great! She’d forgotten to change the ornate scroll into an ordinary-looking chart. The one she’d handed the man, attached to elaborate golden rods, displayed fancy inlaid pearl finials. Now what?
Harold ambled over. “Nah, never seen anything like that ’fore.” With eyebrows coming together in a deep frown, he roamed his eyes over Sarah.
“My father is an artist. He drew it for me.” That was certainly true—sort of. The Commander wasn’t her heavenly father, but he remained close to the Almighty.
Harold whistled. “Your dad sure goes to a lot of trouble. Lookee, Amos, this here thing resembles one of them Biblical parchments.” Taking the document in both hands, he rolled it up and down.
Gulping, Sarah nodded. “My father is remarkable.”
With eyes wide and full of appreciation, Harold nodded. “Sure is.”
“Can you give me directions?” Sarah held out her hand to retrieve the map.
Harold handed the scroll to Sarah. “Yeah, I can. Ya want me to write it down for ya? Might be easier than this fancy gadget.”
After reaching for a notepad, Harold scribbled out directions and then read them back to Sarah.
“You’re about ten miles from where ya wanna be.” Amos glanced out the window. “Don’t see no car. How ya plan on gettin’ there?”
“My bike is out back. I’ll pedal my way over.” Sarah pocketed the instructions in her jeans.
Amos and Harold exchanged puzzled glances.
“Pedal your way? You sure talk funny.” Amos scratched his chin. “Where’d ya grow up?”
“North of here.” Sarah pointed heavenward with an index finger and turned to walk away. Best to get out of here as quickly as possible. At the door, she turned. “Thanks guys.” Sauntering outside, she peeked through the plate-glass openings and realized Harold and Amos continued to scrutinize her movements intently.
She called forth a bicycle then straddled the machine and hoped to make the thing go. Bicycles existed in The Heavenlies. Children without an opportunity to ride while on earth enjoyed them, but Sarah had never tried one before.
Placing one foot on the pedal she pushed off with the other foot. After wobbling about for a bit, she fell off the apparatus. Picking up the bike, she glanced back at the window. Harold and Amos were staring with their mouths agape.