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In His Timing
Category:
Historical Fiction
Publisher: iUniverse
ISBN-10: 0595667449
Type: Fiction
Pages: 196
Copyright: 2004
Eighteen-year-old, Emily Harding has a problem.
The year is 1961, and she learns that her best friend, Lorena, is dying from an incurable disease. She cries out to God, asking Him to allow her to help save her friend's life. Staring into the flames of the fireplace, Emily sees soldiers, blue and gray, and hears the lilting refrain of Dixie from a harmonica. She feels faint and passes out.
When she awakens, the year is 1861, and she is in the embodiment of her great-aunt Emily Ann. Surrounded by people whom she does not know, but who know her, she struggles to find God's will for her in this time and place. A Union major who wants to marry her, a Confederate Captain who wants to seduce her, involvement in the Underground Railroad, and the intrigue of espionage, keep Emily too busy to wallow in despair.
She knows God is always in control and trusts Him to show her His plan, in His timing, not hers.
Returning to the house after her visit to the prison, Emily was actually shaking in anticipation. She hurried upstairs to her bedroom, eager to examine the book Don Fleming had given her. "You'll want to read this one yourself, Miss Emily Ann," he had said, looking at the book strangely, then back at her. What was he trying to tell her?
She looked at the cover, but nothing looked unusual. Madame Bovary. Could that mean something? Emily couldn't imagine what, so she opened it up to the flyleaf. Nothing there.
Although she knew he was trying to tell her something, she couldn't discover what it was. Thumbing through, she noticed a small scrap of paper wedged between two of the pages. It had some numbers written on it in an unusual pattern. They were grouped together in threes: 218-7-1; 280-4-7; 90-12-6; 168-8-4; and 216-38-2.
Her heart beat wildly. Emily knew she'd stumbled onto something special. Is this some kind of code? She couldn't help herself. Even though she was in her room and alone, she looked around furtively, making certain no one was watching.
Putting the paper back and closing the book, Emily placed it on her nightstand. Then she walked across the room and sat in the big chair. Lowering her hands to her lap, she stared at the book, trying to calm herself, but inside she was dancing. Excitement had begun to build because she felt certain she was on the verge of a great discovery. At the same time, she was feeling the thrill of danger.
Emily walked back to the nightstand and picked up the book. Hopping onto the bed, she examined it again. Once more, she pulled out the paper. What could these numbers mean? Suddenly, she had an idea. Could they be page numbers? She turned to page 218. The word are was lightly underlined. She noticed, too, that it was the first word on the seventh line.
Quickly she turned to page 280. Yes, on the fourth line, the seventh word was lightly underlined--you.
Are you. A message was beginning to form. She could barely contain her excitement. This must have been the way her great-aunt began her spy activities. Emily's hand shook so badly she could hardly turn the pages as she searched for page 90.
"Twelfth line, sixth word," she whispered. Counting down the lines, she saw that willing was the next underlined word. The thrill of it continued to build, so she turned to page 168. Line eight, fourth word--to. On page 216, the thirty-eighth line and second word was help.
Are you willing to help? She slowly raised her head, taking in a deep breath. Yes, she was willing to help but wasn't sure how.
Emily didnt know exactly what to do next. If she kept bringing Madame Bovary back, someone would get suspicious. If they looked at the book and found all the underlined words, they would know something was up.
She decided they had only been showing her the principle of the code. Any book could be used, and the need to underline words shouldn't be necessary. She merely had to let them know the code.
She jumped from the bed, racing downstairs to the library. She brushed her fingertips across the first row of books and stopped with Oliver Twist. Thumbing through the pages, she found the word she was looking for. Yes, there it was. Page 170, line five, and word one--how.
She was undecided where to put the code. Too afraid of being caught by writing it on a piece of paper, she penciled it lightly on the back of the title page, hoping they would notice.
Knowing another visit today would be too obvious, the new spy determined to go to the prison again tomorrow. She hugged herself in anticipation, hoping she would be able to sleep the night through. It would be difficult, though, because of the many thoughts running through her mind. At the moment, all she could think was--I'm becoming a Yankee spy. Heaven help me!
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