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Strings of Faith

By Terry Stafford

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Chapter 1

Gathering

“Then David spoke to the chiefs of the Levites to appoint their relatives the singers,
with instruments of music, harps, lyres, loud-sounding cymbals, to raise sounds of joy.” ~ 1 Chronicles 15:16

The motorhome roared down the dirt road, traveling way too fast to safely navigate the overhanging trees and deep potholes. As Kevin came banging and crashing by Darcy's campsite, he screamed out of the open driver's window in his loud twangy voice.

"We're heeeeere!"

Sitting on the steps of a new blue-and-white motorhome, her long blonde hair blowing across a worn denim jacket, Darcy returned the yell.

"Yahoooo! Let's pick!"

Doubting that Kevin heard her, Darcy lowered her arm with a smile and went back to reading, waving the dust away from her face.

She saw Ben stirring on the cot he was laying on in front of the motorhome. He turned to lay flat on his back and stared at the blue sky. Ben had been a dear friend of Trevor and Darcy for many years. He was also a very talented guitar player and member of their band. Darcy followed his gaze and looked up into the sky through the lush green leaves dancing back and forth in the breeze.

She saw Ben turn his head when they both heard the high-pitched, hollow resonance of a banjo playing in the distance, echoing across a field between the tree-lined, barbed-wire fences. They could barely hear a guitar accompanying the banjo. Voices, weak in the breeze, sang some unidentifiable but really fast song.

After lying still for a few minutes, apparently enjoying the peaceful collection of his thoughts, Ben lifted his feet and threw them off the side of the cot. He rocked up into a sitting position and rubbed his face, finally resting it in the palms of his hands. He slid his hands away and opened his eyes again to see the edge of the woods in front of him.

"What the heck was that?" Ben asked.

"It was Kevin. He finally made it.” Darcy nodded at him. “Are ya nursin' a hangover?"

"Heavens no. I just haven't slept that hard in a long time."

Ben stood up, scratching his head, and turned to look toward the music. "Who's that over there pickin' so early?"

"So early?" Darcy giggled. "It's after ten o'clock, Ben."

"Well, good grief. I must have played way too late last night. Or was it this morning? How long have you guys been up?"

"We got up and out a couple hours ago. We went over to get some coffee and a bite to eat."

She looked across the field in deep concentration at the small group of musicians gathered in a circle under a tarp. Her head twisted just a little as she tried to figure out the tune.

"I think it's that bunch from Ohio," she finally answered. “Buckeye...somethin' or other."

"I heard them play a little last night," Ben said. "That guitar player is killer! I think I'll go over there and see what they're workin' on. Maybe steal a few licks."

Darcy nodded with a smile as Ben turned to head out across the field. After he was out of sight, she shifted her gaze, first to her book, then to the woods, sinking back into the daydream that had held her captive before she was interrupted by Kevin's arrival and Ben getting up. In the deep recesses of her daydream, she heard the sounds again, a cheering crowd shouting her name and applauding as she amazed them with her fiddle playing. She smiled and her eyes sparkled, enjoying the vision as she had done so many times before.

Born in Louisville to parents who were both professors at Bellarmine College, Darcy grew up with discipline, proving repeatedly that she could succeed at whatever challenge she chose to take on. When she was eleven years old, she was asked to play her violin at a founders-day event in front of the courthouse. Her father objected to it, fearing that taking the time to perform well would distract her from her schoolwork. Darcy missed supper every evening for two weeks while she practiced her violin solos, and then did her homework.

Her father finally yielded, recognizing the highly unusual self-discipline for such a young girl. Her performance at the courthouse drew a rousing response and a wonderful article in the local newspaper. As important as academic success was to her, her true love had always been her violin.

With the support and encouragement of her mother, Darcy grew in the music and perfected her mastery of the instrument. She impressed her teachers throughout her grade school years. When she played, her small hands gently cradled the neck, playing with a soulful grace that one would never expect from a child. She played with clarity and confidence, moving so swiftly that anyone watching could barely see her fingers.

When Darcy left high school, she attended her parents' alma mater, Bellarmine College, where she graduated with a degree in instrumental music. From there, she was accepted into The Boston Conservatory.

After mastering the classics, such as Bach's Brandenburg Concerti and Brahms's Ein Deutsches Requiem violin concerto, she discovered from her new friends at the Conservatory something she hadn't heard back at Bellarmine— roots music. She heard the soulful sound of bluegrass and rustic old-time music born in the Appalachian Mountains, passed down through generations of Scots-Irish and African ancestry. Her heart leapt as she heard the spirited sounds of the acoustic strumming, fiddling, singing, and dancing. She was instantly hooked.

Darcy's parents were less than pleased with her change in direction. It was difficult for them to understand why a child with such talent and investment in her craft would throw it all away for something so primitive. They no longer accepted her music choices, and it put a strain on their relationship.

As Darcy stared into the woods, still sitting on her motorhome steps at the campground, she saw herself playing and winning at The National Oldtime Fiddle Contest in Weiser, Idaho, the fiddler's granddaddy of all contests that her friends had told her about back in Boston. She smiled again and shook her head, awakening from her daydream.

"Honey, would you hand me my fiddle?" she yelled through the screen door.

Trevor Marshall, Darcy's husband of two years, handed the fiddle and the bow through the door.

"Practicing for the Nationals?" he asked with a smile.

She giggled. "How did you know that's what I was thinking about?"

"Lucky guess," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"I mean about the doctor."

"I know what you mean."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Not right now, anyway."

"Have you seen Judy yet?" Trevor asked.

"No," Darcy said softly.

She had been thinking about Judy all day—her dearest friend in the world, even though they only saw each other a few times a year when they camped or played music together. This time, Darcy really needed to talk to her.

Trevor smiled and went back into the motorhome.

Darcy tucked the old, worn wood of the fiddle under her chin. She grasped the bow lightly with her right hand as if to caress a delicate flower. As soon as the bow touched the strings, the fiddle sang a melody in its own voice—so beautiful that the birds stopped to listen. She played the tune of a slow, droning mountain hymn, revealing her soul through sounds weeping from the instrument.



Ben, rather short and stocky, stepped high through some of the tall wiregrass, crossing the field to get to the musicians playing under the tarp at their campsite. When he arrived, he stood outside the circle of musicians, assuming that he wouldn't be noticed. He was a little startled when a voice came from the group, obviously speaking to him.

"Where's your guitar, man?"

"I left it over there at the camp. I just stopped in to listen a little," Ben said.

"I really enjoyed the jammin' last night," the man said as he stepped forward holding his guitar.

"The name's Jack, by the way. Jack Hanford."

Ben, reaching to shake Jack's hand, leaned in through the crowd of listeners. "Ben Salinger. Pleased to meet you."

"You guys playin' in the contest at Athens?" Ben asked.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. We've won it the last three years. I see no reason to stop now," Jack said with a smirk.

Although Ben was a little taken aback by the tone of arrogance, he wasn't prepared for what came next.

"Is that little blonde fiddle player over there, with you guys?" Jack asked. He had a look of disgust on his face. Before Ben could answer, Jack continued. "I heard we had a classical violin player over there somewhere. I don't know why those people don't just keep to their own. They obviously don't have the feel to play our kind of music. They're gonna ruin it! She needs to just go back home. She'll never get on this stage here."

Ben paused in disbelief. His cheeks flushed.

"Maybe we'll see you later," Ben said, gritting his teeth, jaw bones throbbing. He turned away and left the circle, shaking his head. He couldn't get away soon enough.



Darcy had only played her fiddle for several more minutes after Ben left her campsite, before she decided to join him.

"Honey,” Darcy called out to her husband. “Would you grab this fiddle? I'm gonna run over there where Ben is and see what's goin' on."

She handed Trevor the fiddle and cheerfully pranced across the field in anticipation, her bouncing golden hair glimmering in the sun behind her. She started to walk around a camper when she overheard the conversation between Ben and Jack about her classical training. She froze and listened to his attacks. Shocked and embarrassed, she ducked away behind the camper so Ben wouldn't see the angry tears welling up in her eyes.

She quickly walked back across the field to the motorhome, hoping no one saw her. Already emotionally exhausted from her visit to the doctor the week before, Darcy had a difficult time registering what she had just heard. She worked so hard to learn this music and now veterans were rejecting her.



As soon as Ben cleared the campsite, his squinted gaze dropped to the ground in front of him to avoid eye contact with anyone, his fists clenched. He continued to shake his head, seething at the thought of what Jack had just said about Darcy. She was practically his little sister.

He decided to take a walk through the vendor area to cool off. He wanted to see what everyone had to offer, knowing the same vendors peddling the same wares would be sitting in the same spots as they did every year for as long as he could remember. He walked slowly across the field toward a canopy of oak trees where trailers and tents were lined up while the masses of people that were gathered, flipped through cassette tapes and albums, tried on shirts and hats, or scouted out the latest gadget that would help an instrument play itself.

He walked under the trees, the sun in his eyes finally interrupted by the shade. Ben caught sight of a food cart with carnival art painted all over the sides and lights flashing around the top. The sign read, FUNNEL CAKES, one of the delights Ben looked forward to with anticipation each year at the festival.

"Ah, perfect," he muttered.

Through years of experience, he knew that eating a funnel cake would be messy. So, he decided to wait until after he’d walked the line of vendors and checked out everything else.



Back at camp, Darcy timidly played her fiddle again, her confidence shaken. Her hand shook around the fiddle's neck as she tried to lose herself in the music. Instead, she replayed in her mind again and again what she had overheard.

"How can I be ruining the music?" she thought. "My God, I'm ruining the music!"

Several strangers stopped to listen and chat but she was so consumed with her thoughts, she didn't even acknowledge them, and so they eventually continued on their way. She sat alone in front of the motorhome playing slow, lonesome tunes on her fiddle. As she pulled the bow back and forth across the shiny strings, she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving toward her. Just then, a voice rang out.

"Hey, pretty girl!"

Darcy turned with a jolt and saw the slender redhead in blue jeans coming around the motorhome.

"Judy!" Darcy screamed as she jumped up from the steps and ran to meet her friend.

Darcy threw her arms, along with a bow in one hand and a fiddle in the other, around Judy's neck, almost getting caught up in the sweater sleeves Judy had draped over her shoulders and loosely tied around her neck.

"Sorry it took me so long to get over here," Judy said. "We had some RV trouble coming around the loop."

"I am so glad to see you," Darcy said. "I've missed you so much!"

"Well, I've missed you too, sweetie. As soon as I climbed down from the RV, I heard that beautiful fiddle and knew it was you."

"Come on over here and sit. Hey, Trevor, look who's out here!" Darcy said.

"I heard, I heard," Trevor said. He opened the screen door and stepped outside. "Hey gorgeous. How are you doin’, girl?"

"Doin' fine, doin' fine," she said as she walked to him.

He wrapped his muscular arms around her in his familiar bear hug.

"You girls catch up," Trevor said. "I'm gonna walk around and see if I can catch up with Ben."

He smiled, knowing Darcy had been waiting for Judy to show up so they could talk.

"Okay, hon," Darcy said. "You guys don't stay gone too long. We're gonna eat here in a bit. As soon as Kevin shows up, we'll do some pickin'."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you shortly."

As Trevor walked out of sight, Judy leaned in and whispered, "I swear that man of yours gets better lookin' every time I see him."

"I'm a lucky girl," Darcy said with a chuckle.

"So, what have you been up to?” Judy asked. “I can't believe it's been a year already."

Darcy was stunned by Judy's comment. It really had been that long. "I know. I've really missed you." She cleared her throat. Her excited smile quickly gave way to sadness.

"I got some awful news last week, and I've wanted to talk to you about it. I hope you don't mind me dumping this on you before you've even had time to set up camp."

Judy's smile turned to concern. "You don't think a thing about it, sweetie. Let's go inside and talk so I can get something to drink. You got some of your iced tea in there?"

"I just made a batch this morning. Come on in."

Judy followed Darcy up the steps, closing the door behind her.

"I love your sweet tea," Judy said.

She sat down and leaned forward, her arms spread across the table. She looked around, examining the detail in the trim and the decorations—Darcy's handiwork.

"It's some of that good Louisville tea my mom taught me to make,” Darcy said. “I know you don't like sugar, though. Sorry about that."

"Oh, no. I'm fine. I always make an exception for your iced tea. When did you guys get this big ol' motorhome? It's beautiful."

"We picked it up last fall. As much as we love going to festivals, it just made sense. We discussed it for quite a while and decided we should get one before we had kids."

Darcy’s voice cracked and she paused. "Then, we would always have plenty of room for camping." Darcy dropped her head to her hands and began to sob, taking Judy by surprise.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?"

Judy leaned over the table again and put her hands on Darcy's arms.

"I'm sorry," Darcy said, wiping her hair back from her face. "I feel like I've been holding my breath since last Wednesday."

"Well, what in the world happened?" Judy asked.

Darcy pulled her hair back, tying it in a knot behind her head. She sighed and stared at her glass, dripping with condensation. She wrapped both hands around it.

"Trevor and I were beginning to get worried after two years of trying, and we weren't getting pregnant. After Christmas, we started seeing a doctor. He sent me to all kinds of specialists."

She stopped talking and looked out the window. She focused on the lake in the distance for a moment before her gaze turned back to the glass.

"Well, to make a long story short, he told me I have ovarian something-or-other syndrome. I'm infertile," she said. Her eyes filled with tears again, but she held them back.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry," Judy said. She cupped her hands over Darcy's, still holding the glass. "Is that the end of it? Isn't there anything they can do?"

"Apparently, there's nothing." Darcy sighed, pulling her hands away. She stood up and went to the refrigerator to take out the ground beef and other food to start preparing supper.

"How is Trevor handling it?" Judy asked.

"Oh, he was shocked at first, maybe disappointed. I don't know. I think he's okay now."

"You poor baby." Judy stood silently, went to the sink, and began slicing the tomatoes Darcy had taken out of the refrigerator.



Trevor caught up with Ben in the vendor area, shoving a funnel cake in his face, white powdered sugar on his nose and chin.

"Good grief, Ben!" Trevor shouted.

Ben was startled. Still holding the pastry halfway in his mouth, he jumped and turned quickly to the side to get out of the way.

"You've got that thing all over you!" Trevor said.

Ben looked at Trevor and started laughing. He doubled over with a hand over his mouth, trying not to spit everything out. Trevor couldn't help but laugh, too. "Hey man, get a grip!" he said.

People all around them were watching the calamity. Ben finally swallowed the funnel cake, coughing then laughing, then bent over on his knees, tears rolling down his face. Clouds of confectioner's sugar billowed through the coughs and laughter.

Trevor walked quickly over to the vendor's trailer. "Would you give me a cup of water, please, before this guy over here suffocates?"

The vendor smiled and quickly handed Trevor a cup of water. Ben sat down on a picnic table to catch his breath.

"Here," Trevor said, handing the paper cup to Ben. "Are you gonna make it?"

"I'm fine. You scared the bejeebers out of me, man," Ben said. He took a drink.

They both erupted, uncontrollably laughing again. Ben spit a mouth full of water into the air, missing Trevor by inches. He sprayed the entire picnic table and several feet around it.

"Come on, let's get out of here before we get arrested," Trevor said.

He grabbed Ben by the arm and pulled him up from the table. They walked across the vendor area, under the trees and into the field, laughing and trying to ignore the people looking at them.

"We need to get back to camp," Trevor said.

By the time they arrived back at camp, the hamburgers were sizzling on the grill.

"Mmm, smells good!" Ben said. He stared at the grill in anticipation.

"Good grief! You just about choked on a funnel cake, and now you're over here acting like you're starving to death." Trevor said.

They told Darcy and Judy about their escapades at the funnel cake trailer, and everyone had a good chuckle.

"Can't take you guys anywhere," Judy said. "Hey, I need to get back to my camp. I'll leave you alone to eat, and I'll catch up with you in a little bit when Kevin’s ready to pick."

"Can't you stay and eat with us?" Darcy asked, with her lower lip puffed out.

"No, you guys go ahead. I've got to get my place put together before it gets too dark. Tom's going to send the dogs out after me."

"Okay. We'll be over as soon as Kevin gets set up,” Darcy said.

After Judy left, Darcy began collecting the hamburgers from the grill, smoke and flames shooting up a foot above the white-hot coals.

"Trev, there's some beans and potato salad up there on the counter by the sink. Would you grab that and some pop from the cooler?"

When Trevor walked inside, he noticed the two glasses sitting on the table in a pool of water. He knew Darcy and Judy had spent some time talking. He smiled as he picked up a 2-liter bottle of pop and the two bowls from the counter. "Hey Ben, grab the door."

After all the food was spread on the table, the three sat quietly beneath the setting sun. Trevor looked across the table at Darcy, noticing her red puffy eyes, and gave her a tender smile.

"Grab a hand," Ben said, breaking the silence.

Ben said a short prayer while Trevor looked on awkwardly.

"Amen," they all said together.

After about thirty minutes, the food was gone and the conversation exhausted.

"Well, I'm gonna get this mess cleaned up," Darcy said, as she gave out a sigh. "I'm stuffed."

Ben got up from the picnic table. "If you guys don't mind,” he said, “I'm gonna grab my guitar and run over to Kevin's place. He's probably set up by now. The burgers were great, Darcy, as always."

"We'll catch up in a bit," Trevor said.

Ben's guitar case had been leaning against the side of the motorhome. He picked it up and left as Trevor and Darcy carried empty dishes up the steps. They cleared the table, loaded the sink, and put leftovers in the refrigerator.

"Good stuff," Trevor said, rubbing his stomach.

"I love being out here," Darcy said. She smiled and walked across the floor and pressed against Trevor, wrapping her arms around his waist. She looked up at him with her big green eyes as he folded his arms around the back of her neck.

"I love you," Darcy said, pressing her nose into his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"I take it you finally got to talk to Judy about everything."

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry, honey. Please don't be offended that I wanted to talk to her about it."

Trevor smiled. "I'm not offended at all, baby. I knew what you were waiting for."

"How are you doing, Trev?" she said in a more serious, deliberate tone.

Trevor paused for a several seconds, let out a sigh, and said, "You know, babe, I really believe we're going to get through this okay."

"Yes, God will take care of us,” Darcy said.

"I suppose," he said.

"But what are we going to do now? I want to have a family with you, Trevor."

"I know, baby." Trevor paused again and gazed outside the window over the dining table. "We'll have a baby one way or another. That's a promise."

Darcy pulled back a little and looked into his eyes. He returned her stare with a smile.

"I believe you, honey," she said. She stretched up on her toes and gave him a kiss. "I believe you."

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