A Parthan Summer by Julie Steimle (best books for 8th graders TXT) 📖

his eye so that his friends could not see that he had been crying.

*

The service had ended at eleven o’clock, and the campers hurried out into the bright sun. Many of Jeff’s friends quickly rushed to their cabin to change into their swimming trunks, though Brian didn’t. However, he did switch to more casual clothes. He sort of blushed and muttered something about it being Sunday. But that only caused him to get teased and called Mormon boy by the others—a term Jeff had heard before, but ignored as it seemed snide and he liked Brian. Brian only flushed more and tried to shrug it off, saying “So what. It’s what I believe in—ok?”

However when Jeff only changed into a more casual shirt and shorts like Brian rather than dressing into his swim shorts, the other boys in the cabin gaped at him with an even greater laugh.

“Now we know you aren’t Mormon,” Jonathan said shaking his head at Jeff. “Why aren’t you changing into your bathing suit? Everyone is going to the lake.”

Jeff smirked with a shrug. “I don’t feel like it.”

They stared at him. Brian smiled secretly with a glance.

“I’m not Sunday party guy,” Jeff said with another shrug. “Some people need a day off for introspection.”

Brian laughed and picked out a book from his bag. Apparently he came prepared for his Sundays at camp. There were in fact about six books in his bag with titles people had never heard of and looked way too serious for a boy of his usual playful nature. Jeff had already seen his set of scriptures. They came out every morning after Brian prayed, and they were a lot thicker than just the Bible the priest had.

Jonathan and Mark glanced at each other with shrugs and picked up their towels.

“Well,” Mark said with a dismayed sigh, “If either one of you get bored, we’ll be at the lake.”

“…Having a blast with babes in bikinis,” Jonathan added.

“…And getting a major tan,” Mark continued.

A tan. Brian didn’t need to tan. And Jeff smirked at his pale white skin, which would only burn. They were also staring at his pale skin, and both swallowed laughs with a cough.

Waving, Jeff nodded to the both of them. “Well, if I ever get the itch to be sunburned and rejected by the ladies, I’ll join you.”

Brian snorted and opened a thin book that was heavily marked in colored pencil. He sat on his bed.

The wrestling group left together, tromping down the hill. When they were gone, Jeff leaned over to look at what Brian was reading.

Brian blushed but scooted so his friend could see. “It’s a church history book.”

Jeff nodded then peered into Brian’s bag. “Is there a book I can read?”

“Take any one.” Brian smiled as he replied.

Jeff walked slowly out of his cabin holding a thin book in his hands. Despite his personal admiration for Brian for sticking up for what he believed, Jeff had his own religious convictions. And just like Zormna had thought, he was incredibly devout. But to tell that to the other boys was sticky. Explaining his religion would be explaining who he really was, and that was not happening. But like Brian, he made time to devote to his faith. He just never told people what it was.

Walking down into the gravel parking lot clutching the book Brian had given, he searched for a place where he could be alone yet safe. He tucked the book under his arm and stuffed his hands into his pockets, scuffing his shoes and staring into space. His mind wandered. He meandered slowly to the edge of the grassy lawn where he leaned against the pine. He could see the sunbathers as they played near the lake. As his thoughts drifted from his purpose there, a hard yet light object dropped from the tree onto top of his head.

Rubbing the top of his scalp Jeff picked up the object where it had dropped. A small pinecone. He looked up into the trees.

“Sorry,” Zormna called down. She was sitting midway to the top inside the tree and was picking at a lapful of cones she had gathered.

Gazing up at her, he called up. “I really hope you are sincere.”

Zormna scowled. “You’re not going to play with the rest of them?”

Looking up and then back at the swimmers, he replied, “Well, it’s Lenyora and….” He shook his head. “Come on. You know me, or should.” Then thinking, Jeff glared up at her and said, “Wait. Didn’t you go canoeing this morning?”

Zormna blushed, still scowling. “So I’m guilty. I was never any good at Lenyora practice.”

“I can tell,” he yelled up. Looking around himself, his neck forming a painful kink, he called up. “This is ridiculous. Hold on a second. I’m coming up.”

Zormna sat in the tree, watching him skillfully clamber up the branches then settle on a nearby limb. She kept silent as she watched. Once he found a stable hold, Jeff relaxed and faced Zormna with a satisfied grin.

“Your bruises look better,” Zormna said.

They had turned a lighter shade of green with a yellow tint, a definite improvement from the deep purple days before. And he could see out of both eyes, the swelling down.

“Yeah,” he let out. Then asking, he said, “So, what’s really going on?”

Zormna glanced at her pinecones and then looked at Jeff’s face. Shrugging, she replied, “Be honest with me. That guy they were talking about in the meeting. He’s real, right?”

Jeff stared, taken aback by her question. He sighed, thinking about it. Then he nodded. “I think so.”

“Not one of their imaginary, thunder wielding—”

“No,” he chuckled. “He’s an historical figure. He really lived.”

“And they really killed him?” she asked.

Jeff felt shivers run through him. He swallowed. “Yeah.”

Zormna stared at Jeff. Tears crested in her eyes and rolled down her to her chin. “He really died. And he didn’t even…he was just telling people to live the Higher Law.”

Jeff paled, thinking about that. He nodded to himself. “Yeah…though, I don’t think he was killed just for that. Why does this matter?”

She shook her head. “Prophecies, Jafarr…. I did—you know—pay attention when at the McLenna’s church. And Brian’s family really believes in Him. I’ve seen His picture on their wall.”

Jeff nodded, wondering what she was leading to.

“If He was a real person, and He really did what they say He did, then…” She shook her head. “What about me? What prophecies are there about the last Tarrn? I know you didn’t tell me the whole thing. Only that the last Tarrn is supposed to end some endless war.”

“Oh…” Jeff closed his eyes, leaning on the near branch. “That’s what’s bothering you.”

She didn’t reply. Zormna was trying hard to keep from shaking. The mention of the man the Christians believed in brought to her mind all the questions about herself and what her people expected from a prophecy which she still had yet to hear the details of.

“He died, Jafarr,” Zormna murmured again. “They put nails through His hands and His feet and stabbed Him in the side. They tortured Him with whips and put a crown of thorns on His head…”

“Hey!” Jeff reached out and grabbed her hand. “Calm down. You’re not being asked to do that. He was…” Jeff stared into space. “He was something else.”

“You said He was real.”

“He is real,” Jeff retorted. “But He also had a bigger job than you do.”

Zormna stared at him, wiping her eyes.

Shaking his head, Jeff replied, “I know only a little about Him. The guy known as Jesus. But I believe He is real. Our prophecies talk about two saviors: the one to redeem all mankind, bringing them back to Our Father; and the one to end the Endless War. One has to die. The other has to live.”

“And which one—?”

“He had to die,” Jeff said. “So we could live.”

Zormna stared more.

Shaking his head, Jeff said, “I don’t know why our religion doesn’t talk about Him more. Maybe because He was intended to be born in this world, whereas the other was intended to be born on our world—and we’re egotistical.”

Zormna chuckled painfully, wiping her eyes more.

“But what I do know is that the last Tarrn’s job is not to get nailed to any cross, but to stop such brutality from ever happening again.”

“How is that possible?” Zormna huffed, pulling back. “No one can do that! Wicked people will be wicked.”

Jeff shrugged. “Maybe I’m generalizing it. Point being, you are meant to be a general, not a great and everlasting sacrifice.”

She stared.

He shrugged again.

“You mean the last Tarrn,” she murmured, staring at the ground. “You don’t really know it will be me.”

Jeff lifted his eyes to her face. “Don’t I?”

Glowering, Zormna shook her head. “Other Tarrns are still alive. It is not over yet.”

“Fine…” Jeff grumbled. “I’ll keep an open mind. It’s just…” Looking to her, Jeff sighed then drew in a breath. He scooted closer. “On the hike you mentioned that you dreamed of Zeldar Tarrn. And of me.”

Zormna stiffened. Her eyes widened, wondering what he was leading to.

He said, “I’ve dreamed of him too.”

She stared more.

“I can describe him to you.” Nodding as he mentally recalled the details, Jeff closed his eyes. “He’s got hair like yours. Same color. Curly on top, yet short. He stands a little taller than me. His eyes are incredibly dark blue—”

“They’re exactly like yours,” Zormna cut in.

Jeff stared, taken off guard by that. He shrugged and continued, “His voice is a warm tenor that’s almost like listening to music—”

“Your voice sounds a lot like his,” she interjected. Then Zormna lowered her eyes. “It’s uncanny, actually.”

“I…” Jeff stared more. “I guess I wouldn’t know. I don’t usually listen to myself talk.”

But Zormna urged him to go on. “So, you’ve seen him.”

Nodding, Jeff then peeked at her. “The thing is, I’ve…I’ve had dreams with you in them too.”

Zormna just blinked at him.

“We…” He shook his head. “The first dream I had with you in it, you were in that room with Zeldar already. And I was just so mad to see you there. And I shouted at you.”

Her eyes went wide, listening. Zormna leaned back on her branch, her mouth opening wordlessly.

“And you got mad at me and punched me in the face,” he said. Shaking his head, Jeff added, “It was almost right after you caught me the second time.”

“How…?” Zormna’s stare went pale.

Jeff shrugged. “And the last dream I had with you in it—as there were many…you must have been on the moon base still, but I was here in Pennington, feeling safe. And then I had that dream. Zeldar looked a lot older than I’d seen him. You were there in that place where we meet, crying.” He averted his eyes. It took some strength to continue on, as the dream was still difficult to wrap his mind around. “Zeldar looked annoyed with me. I mean, he had given me a lot of advice over the years—and you and I just kept arguing. But he told me…he told me to take care of you.”

He heard Zormna draw in a breath.

“Then he went over to you and said something, which I couldn’t hear.” Jeff didn’t know how to look at her. The dream felt so heavy.

Zormna whispered. “He said…he said you were my protector, and that I should trust you.”

Jeff lifted his eyes. He met Zormna’s stare. She looked breathless, as if nothing had been more surprising than having shared dreams.

“I…” Jeff shook his head. “I remember him leaving not long after that. It was like he was saying goodbye forever.”

“And the rest of the dream?” Zormna asked, now waiting on his every word.

Closing his eyes, Jeff shook his head. “I honestly thought it was just a dream. Or maybe…I keep holding a stupid grudge, hoping it was.” He opened his eyes as he said, “We remained alone in the room. I finally went over to you and said something like—”

“I have a feeling we will meet again,” she said.

He nodded. Then he set