Sold Out to Jesus

Nancy is excited. 'It's a long time since I have felt so adventurous. Honey, have you finished anchoring our tent down yet? Red where are you? Oh, there you are. Have you finished with the tent? Listen to that wind. Have you finished?' Nancy is babbling and cannot stop chattering.

'Yes, it's finished.' Noah says as he enters the tent, wet from the driving rain. I put it up so the entrance faces the ocean. This way we won't miss anything!'

He quickly slips out of his raingear and hugs his wife. The tent is anchored on the beach twelve feet above the high tide mark and south of the old wooden pier that projects ninety feet into the sea. The pier was built in the 1930's by the Civilian Conservation Corps and has served the local community well over the years as a favorite fishing site; although no one really knows why it was constructed. Two strong walls run the length of each side of pier giving it added strength. Each pier wall is three feet high giving the pier excellent fishing comfort.

Immediately behind the tent site is a sixteen-foot high sand wall, also built by the CCC, that runs the length of the Outer Banks beach. A small man-built split in the ridge wall permits access to the beach from the ground beyond the sand ridge. That split is on the north of pier, away from the tent. The ground beyond the ridge slopes gently up to a forest in which a small clear section is used for visitor's parking. Frequently, deer and other wildlife can be seen in the forest area surrounding the unpaved access road. This beach is one of those treasures known only by the locals of North Carolina plus a few select fishermen from out of state.

'Your mother sure thought we were crazy, didn't she?'

'Yes, but let's not spoil the fun by talking about it,' Nancy replies. 'Cuddle up to me. Gee, is that rain coming down. What fun! We're so warm and safe in this tent and the elements are so fierce outside ... somehow, it thrills me. Is it perverse?'

'Maybe, but it's probably no different from taking a roller coaster ride in an amusement park. Say, Nan, can you get that Champagne going?'

'Certainly,' Nancy replies as she pours out a generous portion of the Champagne into a glass and hands it to Noah. 'Can't compare the two; this is infinitely more fun. Here honey.'

'I really staked this tent down good,' Noah volunteers. 'Three stakes and three lines on each corner, and six main lines over the tent poles to hold it secure in any wind we should see. I even tied a line from the ridge to the tent for greater stability. It would take a 130 mile an hour wind to rip this tent down.'

'Good, I feel so safe with you. You're always so resourceful; I know I can always count on you.' Nancy coos at her husband, watching with secret amusement at the inevitable, almost imperceptible swelling of his chest as her words play games with his machismo training and orientation. Nancy had long forgotten how laughable this weakness is in the male, having become so adroit at this game that she automatically manipulated all males who crossed her path in anything other than a casual fashion. With her physical beauty, her pouting lips and flashing blue eyes, ample and intriguing breasts, males were willing, even eager, victims. The difficulty, she now reflects, is that it's not me! Actually, men don't know me, no man has ever known me -- not even my Daddie -- and Noah doesn't know me, either. Nancy ponders these thoughts for a few seconds; then with a moderate effort, she shakes this idea and reaches for her husband. 'Hold me, Honey!'

Simple martial bliss reign as the two cuddle together in the small three-man tent enjoying each other's presence. The moment is tender as they listen to the gale force wind violently flap the tent walls, secure in each other's strength. Now as a silent but unspoken communication of appreciation flow through each for the other, the warmth and strength of the love of their youth emerges again to hold the minute in its tight embrace.

'This is what love is all about isn't it?' Noah asks.

'Oh yes, it is,' Nancy replies. 'As long as we have each other, nothing can stop us -- nothing!'

'We're a good team.'

'Unbeatable.'

'We've worked hard to achieve; it has paid off.'

'Yep, high school, college, job, we never stopped or quit. We made it, and we made it on our own. We don't owe anyone, anything.'

The couple falls silent as they reflect on their lives.

Suddenly, Noah says: 'You're right.'

'What?'

'Who would ever have thought this could be so much fun, just lying here in a tent, listening to the rain?'

'It's the storm. It's so good to be in here, safe and secure while the elements outside are so violent.' Nancy pauses, her eyes sparkling. 'Noah, let's make love.'

'Nancy,' Noah shockingly replies. 'This is a public place.'

'Nuts, nobody is here now. Afraid?' Nancy teasingly replies as she starts to strip off her clothes.

'What's that?' Noah asks.

Nancy freezes in the middle of undressing and listens. Suddenly, she leans over and punches Noah in the arm. 'You're just trying to scare me.'

'No, listen.' Then above the wind, a voice is heard.

'Hello there.'

Noah jumps to the tent flap as Nancy totally disappointed and angry, hurriedly dresses.

'Hello, I'm Mark and this is my wife Betty.' The head of a young man appears in their tent as Nancy fakes a complete cover-up and flashes her third best smile.

'We are going to do the same as y'all and pitch our tent to watch the hurricane hit the shore. Thought we were the only crazy ones. Y'all mind if we put our tent near to yours?' Mark asks.

'Oh no, of course not,' Noah replies, barely able to conceal his disappointment at losing their isolation. 'We'll love the company,' Nancy displays her second best smile as she adds to her husband's statement, lying.