John and Martha
St. John Allerdyce was sitting at a table playing with his Zippo lighter when he saw Martha walk in. Not for the first time, he realized how completely beautiful she was. Amish or not, he was going to get to know this girl some way or another. There was just something about her, that made him smile whenever he thought of her. Whether she was speaking Dutch with her family, or quilting, or cleaning, or even just reading her Bible.
"Martha," he called quietly, "Come sit over here." Martha smiled at the invitation. She hadn't had much of a chance to meet many of the English.
"Hello, it's John, right?"
"Well, technically it's St. John, but I prefer John," he smiled.
"Oh, were your parents strongly religious?"
"Well, I think my mother was, but I don't really remember them."
"Oh, that's a pity, did they pass on?"
"No. My mother left when I was little, and my father kicked me out when he saw me playing with fire, I was 10."
"How old are you now?"
"17."
"Did you come straight to the school here, when you were ten?" Martha asked, very interested in this handsome boy's story. He had just a hint of an Australian accent, and he just seemed so exotic.
"No. I lived on the streets in Sydney until I was 15, and then the Professor found me with cerebro, and sent Scott and Warren to come and get me. I was pretty messed up." Martha looked shocked.
"You mean you didn't have a home? Where did you sleep? What did you eat? I've never heard of anybody living on streets before," she said, seriously.
"I slept a lot of places. Abandoned buildings, park benches, scrap yards. I found some friends, we became like a family. Throwaways and runaways. As for eating. We stole food, sometimes money. We begged, we rummaged through trash cans, anything to survive," and Martha's look, he gently touched her hand.
"Look, I'm not proud of any of it, but we had to survive. Like I said, I was really messed up. I got into drugs for a while, and drinking." John decided not to shock the Amish girl any more, and left out the other details of how he made money. "That's why Scott was able to reach me. He'd been where I was. Living on the street, abandoned, rummaging for foodand begging for money. It's taken me a long time to be able to be around people again, but I think I'm getting better at it all." John smiled at Martha.
"Would you mind if I prayed for you at nights?" she asked, hesitantly. John's eyes widened.
"I--I don't-- I mean-- yeas, please do. It's just, well, nobody's ever offered to pray for me before. Before I came here, nobody cared enough to even consider it.
"I care about you," Martha said honestly. "I care about everybody. I've always been taught to have compassion and love for those who are not as blessed as I am. Big family, good home, warm house, enough food. And we always help each other out, no matter what. I would like to be your friend, St. John." Jophn was flabberghasted.
"I would like that very much, Martha," he smiled.
"As would I." she looked at the clock. "But I must be going now, to see Ms. Ororo. I have lessons with her to control my power," She smiled at him. "Would you like to come to church with me on Sunday?" she asked. JOhn hesitated.
"I, I'll seriously think about it," he replied.