A/N: You (the reader): YOU!
Me (the author): Yes, me.
You: WHY ARE YOU HERE?
Me: Cuz I wrote another story, duh.
You: But shouldn't you be working on "Das Gesellen zum Feind?"
Me: Yeah. And I am. But this wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it for you! Isn't it awesome?
You: Well, I dunno, do I? I haven't read the darn thing yet!
Me: Okay, okay, yeesh, keep your hair on. And before you delve into this tale of Jesus and woe, remember that I don't own Alex Rider or the album Undone. Alex is Anthony Horowitz's and Undone is MercyMe's.
You: I KNOW!
Me: Sorry, I don't make the rules, I just follows 'em. Enjoy!
You: It's about time you shut up...
Alex stepped away from the baggage claim area and glanced around. Nowhere in sight. He sighed in frustration. In his experience – which was, admittedly, very little – Americans had only two concepts of time: late and very late. And apparently, American spies were no exception. His contact was supposed to be right here, and yet, he was nowhere to be seen. He sighed again. A possible terrorist was running loose, and he could very well miss an opportunity just because his ride was late. Alex was seriously contemplating getting a taxi, despite his lack of sufficient money, when he heard an American voice right beside him say, "Alex Rider?"
He whirled around. There, standing next to him, was a Chinese woman dressed in khaki shorts and a dark blue T-shirt. Alex also noticed a small silver cross hanging on a fine chain around her neck. She smiled at him expectantly and said, "Sorry I startled you. Are you Alex Rider?"
"Y-yes," he stuttered, still trying to regain his wits. "Who are you?"
"My name is Janet Yong. I assume Alan Blunt told you about me?"
"Yeah, he did." Alex almost asked why she was late, but at the last moment decided that would appear rude, and held his tongue. Instead, he followed Janet out of the airport.
As if she had read his mind, Janet apologized for her lateness, saying, "Traffic was a nightmare getting here. It seemed like everyone living in the city was going to the airport at the same time! Crazy, I'm tellin' ya."
Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. When they reached their destination – a nondescript deep green car – and stuffed Alex's single bag in the already-full trunk, Janet gestured to the passenger door and said, "Hop in," as she sat behind the wheel, starting the car.
Alex complied. As they pulled out of the parking lot, she reached for a CD lying on the floor, before stopping herself. She asked Alex, "Do you mind music?"
"Depends on what kind."
"MercyMe."
Alex frowned; the band name was unfamiliar. He told Janet as much.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and said hesitantly, "They're a Christian band..."
"Go on."
"They were founded in 1994. That's their third album there on the floor." Alex glanced down, but the CD case was upside-down. "It's called Undone," Janet said in answer to his unspoken question.
Alex was mildly impressed. "You sound like you know a lot about them," he remarked.
Janet grinned, a little ruefully. "I do," she replied. "I've followed them since their inception. I guess you could call me an obsessed fangirl, after a fashion."
Alex whistled. "That's some strong terminology."
Janet laughed. "Appropriate, though. I know pretty much everything there is to know about MercyMe. I think I almost rate the term 'stalker.'"
"No way."
"Way."
Alex was silent for a moment. "You don't sound like a Christian," he mused aloud.
"What do you mean?" Janet asked. Alex heard several emotions in her voice – wariness, fear, and nervousness among them.
Alex was confused by her tone, but quickly replied, "I mean, you don't talk like I'd expect a Christian to talk."
Janet visibly relaxed – as much as she could while negotiating busy downtown traffic. She chuckled softly and said, "You've heard of stereotypes, right?"
"Of course."
"Well, that's the Christian stereotype you're expecting. Just like any other group of people, Christians vary in their personalities and their – shall we say, religiousness."
Alex frowned in confusion. "What do you mean by religiousness?"
Janet bit her lip, thinking. "I...I guess I mean fanaticism in showing devotion," she explained slowly. "Does that make sense?"
Alex thought for a moment, then said, "Yeah."
Janet nodded. "Good. So, you mind some music?"
"Go right ahead." In truth, even though Christian music wasn't exactly Alex's speed, Janet's words made him curious, and he hated to dampen her enthusiasm.
She grinned at him. "Thanks," she said as she inserted the disc and pressed the "random" button.
They made small talk for a few songs. Alex found the style to his taste, though the lyrics sometimes confused him. As the opening bars to the third song played, when they were sitting in a traffic jam once more, Janet held up a hand and shushed Alex, saying, "This one's my favorite."
"I understand," Alex replied, then stopped talking as a man began to sing.
"You're in a better place, I've heard a thousand times
And at least a thousand times, I've rejoiced for you
But the reason why I'm broken, the reason why I cry,
Is how long must I wait to be with you
I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is, then I'm out of place
Lord, won't You give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now"
Alex felt his throat tighten. The mellow words dredged up memories he would have preferred to leave alone – memories of his uncle, killed months ago. He glanced silently at Janet, who was singing softly along with the next verse.
"Help me, Lord, 'cause I don't understand Your ways
The reason why I wonder if I'll ever know
But even if You showed me, the hurt would be the same
'Cause I'm still here so far away from home
I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is, then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now"
Alex closed his eyes a single tear fell, joined quickly by two more. Memories rushed through him as the singer went to the bridge.
"In Christ there are no goodbyes
And in Christ there is no end
So I'll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
To see you again
To see you again
And I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is, then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now"
The few tears were now a flood that Alex struggled to control. Janet, noticing this, turned off the music and let Alex cry. When he was wiping his eyes with his hands, she reached into a tissue box Alex hadn't noticed and offered him one. He accepted it gratefully and concentrated on controlling his breathing. As it steadied, Janet whispered, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Alex assured her, proud that his voice barely shook.
Janet bit her lip, then asked hesitantly, "Who...who, um..."
"Died?" She nodded. Alex sighed. "My uncle," he whispered. "H-he raised me, so it..."
Janet nodded. "I understand." Alex looked at her, eyebrow raised. "My father died a few years ago."
Alex nodded, but didn't say anything. The pair rode in silence for several minutes, finally breaking free of rush hour traffic to speed down suburban lanes. Finally Alex said, "That song-" he felt Janet's attention snap to him, even though her eyes never strayed from the road- "it sounded...uncertain."
"How so?" Janet's tone was careful.
"I mean, it talks about 'never being more homesick than now' a lot," he explained. "To me that sounds...uncertain."
Janet nodded. "I can see why you'd think that way."
"But you don't agree." It wasn't a question.
"No, I don't." Alex started to say something, but Janet cut him off by saying, "It also says, 'Lord, won't You give me strength to make it through somehow.'"
"I don't get it."
Janet opened her mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again. She seemed to be having trouble deciding how to put her thoughts into words. Finally she said, "The song is talking about calling on Jesus for help when someone close to you dies. You know, in the beginning of the second verse, it says, 'Help me, Lord, 'cause I don't understand Your ways.' And that's true, we – Christians as well as everyone else – don't. But we know that we'll be reunited with our loved ones eventually. It's like the very beginning-"
"'You're in a better place, I've heard a thousand times,'" Alex quoted, smiling slightly.
Janet grinned. "Precisely. Does it still seem so uncertain?"
"Well..." Alex wasn't sure if he wanted to go down that path. However, Janet's curious glance encouraged him. "I guess it's mostly the second verse that's getting me. You know, the 'but even if...'" He trailed off uncertain.
Janet sensed his dilemma. "There's lyrics on the booklet in the CD case," she told him.
"Thanks," he said as he grabbed the case. Flipping through pages, he came to the one he was looking for. "Here...where it says, 'But even if You showed me, the hurt would be the same/'Cause I'm still here so far away from home,' when it's talking about not understanding God's ways."
Janet nodded. She seemed to do that a lot, Alex reflected vaguely. "I can see how that would get to you," she said. "We're only human. When someone we love dies, even Christians feel lost, hurt, and miserable. But we remember – at least, we try to – we remember that Jesus is with us and that our loved one is in a better place. And that gives us some comfort. But like the song says, that comfort only extends so far. We still feel like anyone else, just...I don't know, I'm terrible at explaining things."
Alex nodded slowly, thinking, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He was silent until they were close to their destination – a supposedly abandoned, partially completed office project just beyond the suburbs, where they would meet their contact. Then he said in a small voice, "Janet?"
"Yes, Alex?" she replied gently.
"Tell me more."
She smiled. "I would love to."
A/N: Sooo? Now can you tell me it's awesome?
You: Well, I-
Me: WAIT! Don't tell me now! Leave a review, purty please. *bats eyelashes cutely* Oh, and sorry the opening author's note was so long.