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Saturday morning, Maggie got the call that Sally had suffered a stroke. She was in the hospital, and not doing well. Sally’s niece knew that Maggie and she were close, so she thought maybe Maggie would want to come visit.
Maggie called the church to invite Harmony to come along. The church phone rang and went to voicemail. That was unusual. Maggie tried again. Same thing. She didn’t usually work in the office on Saturdays. Tiny usually covered for her, and called her or Pete if something came up that he couldn’t handle.
Maggie tried Harmony’s cell phone, but that didn’t work either. Harmony must be out of minutes. She usually was. So she drove to the church.
She waved to the people hanging out in the unofficial smoking area and then went inside to hunt Harmony down and immediately noticed there was no one in the office. She tried the door. It was locked. This was not good. If someone came in looking for a place to stay, there would be no one there to help them. She was wondering how she was going to find Tiny without going into the men’s part of the shelter, which was off-limits to females. Then she rounded a corner and almost ran into Pete.
“Hey there! We really should put up mirrors to prevent collisions like this,” Pete joked.
“Yeah, I know. Where is everyone?”
“I dunno. Who you lookin’ for?”
“Well, I’m looking for Harmony, but why isn’t Tiny in the office?”
“Pastor Chris kicked him out.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he didn’t really say why, but I think he didn’t want Tiny checking people in.”
“Why on earth not?”
“I don’t know, but you know, Tiny’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Maybe he wanted someone more professional in there.”
“Like who?”
“I dunno, you?”
Maggie looked exasperated. “I can’t be here round-the-clock.”
“I know. That’s why we need to clone you.”
“Look, Pete, for now, can you cover the office? I’ll let you in. You can play Panda Pop or something. Just in case someone shows up and needs to be checked in? You can call me if you run into any trouble.”
“Sure. I’ll do it just for the chance of calling you.”
“Thank you, Pete. You’re a lifesaver.” She turned and headed back toward the office.
“That’s what all the ladies say.”
She laughed. “Don’t make me laugh. I don’t want to encourage you.”
Pete put up both his hands. “Hey, I can’t help it if I’m charming and witty.”
Maggie unlocked the door for him. “Right,” she said and headed away.
“The last time I saw Harmony, she was getting a game of Sorry out of the library,” Pete called after her.
“OK, thanks,” Maggie called back. Sure enough, Maggie found Harmony in her room playing Sorry with Daniel, Jessica, and Jayden. Well, Jayden was sort of playing. He was mostly just chewing on the ice ring. “Hey,” Maggie said, and walked through the open door. “I just got some bad news. Sally has had a stroke, and I’m going to go see her in the hospital.”
“Well, what is she, like a hundred and ten?” Jessica asked.
“No,” Maggie said, “but she is well into her eighties, I think. So, do you want to come with me?” Maggie asked Harmony.
“Definitely,” Harmony said to Maggie, and then to Jessica, “Can you watch Daniel?”
“I want to come,” Daniel said.
Harmony looked at Maggie.
“Fine with me, kiddo, but I don’t think it’s going to be much fun,” Maggie said.
“I know,” Daniel said.
“OK then, get your shoes on,” Harmony said. “And have you brushed your teeth yet today?” Daniel shook his head. “OK, then do that too.”
Harmony stood up and started looking for her own shoes as Daniel left the room with a toothbrush.
“Um, he knows he can’t heal Sally, right?” Maggie asked.
“Not sure,” Harmony said. “Maybe he can.”
––––––––
Sally was in a coma. When Maggie, Harmony, and Daniel entered her room, they found a younger woman sitting beside her bed, holding her hand.
“Hi,” Maggie said softly. “You must be Sally’s niece? I’m Maggie. We spoke on the phone?”
“Of course,” the young woman said, standing. “I’m Emily. Thanks so much for coming. Sally spoke very highly of you. She just loved to go to your little church salon.”
Maggie smiled and nodded. “This is mine and Sally’s friend Harmony, and her son Daniel.”
“It’s a pleasure—” Emily started, but Daniel silenced her when he ran the four steps it took to get to her and then wrapped his little arms around her waist. “Oh my!” Emily said.
“I’m so sorry,” Harmony said, reaching to pull Daniel back.
“No, it’s quite all right. I like hugs,” she said with a small laugh. She rubbed Daniel’s small back as if she was the one comforting him.
Eventually, he took a step back. Daniel looked Emily in the eye and said, “She’s going to die.”
“Daniel!” Harmony snapped.
But Emily held a hand up to her, effectively stalling the reprimand. “It’s OK. The boy is just telling the truth.”
“But she is ready,” Daniel added.
Emily smiled through tears. “Yes, I know.”
––––––––
That night, there was a lot of commotion in the men’s area of the shelter.
Dwight had come back from the bar tanked and cantankerous. At first, the men just thought it funny and laughed as Dwight staggered around crashing into bunks, kicking coolers, and knocking over trash cans.
But then Chief looked at Dwight the wrong way and awoke the primal alpha within him. Dwight sauntered up to Chief until he was chest to chest with him. Chief took a step back, instinctively, but then appeared to think better of it and stood his ground.
“You got something to say?” Dwight growled.
“Yeah, I do,” Chief said firmly. “There’s no drinking here.”
Dwight’s mouth spread in an exaggerated, but joyless, smile. He took a step back from Chief and spread his arms. “Do you see any drinking?” He looked from one side of the room to the other, as more than a dozen men looked on, and asked again, “Do you? Do you? I don’t see anyone drinking.” He stepped forward and slapped Chief on the chest, too hard to be playful. “You don’t need to worry there, Champ. There’s no drinking here.” He stepped back again. “Isn’t that right, guys? We wouldn’t drink in church, now would we?”
Chief stomped out of the room. Two men, Randy and Fred, followed him. But where Chief veered off toward the kitchen, Randy and Fred headed for the door. They went through it, out into the dark, and silently but quickly walked to the convenience store, which was only a quarter of a mile away.
Within twenty minutes, they had returned to the crowded sleeping quarters with three half-gallons of Black Velvet.
“What are you, made of money?” Pete asked Randy.
“Nope, just sold my food stamps.” Randy laughed.
“What? To who?”
“Amber.”
“Who’s Amber?”
Randy rolled his eyes. “You know. Amber. She comes here like every few weeks and buys food stamps. A whole bunch of us sell to her.” Randy paused and looked around the room. A few others nodded.
Looking disgusted, Pete left the room.
No one else did. Everyone else stayed in the room to partake. And partake they did.
When Pete returned to the room to go to bed, most of them were still up, hooting and hollering. Several of them were already passed out, and the room smelled of vomit. Pete lay down, pulled the covers over his head, and tried to fall asleep. Eventually he did.
When he woke up, he groped around for his glasses. They weren’t there. He sat up and looked around. No glasses. It’s hard to see a missing object when the missing object is what allows you to see, and eventually Pete gave up.
He tried to wake the others up, to ask them if anyone had seen his glasses. None of them would wake up. None of them would even acknowledge his question. Then he heard Chief from across the room, “They probably took ’em. Did something with ’em.”
“Why would someone steal my glasses?”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Chief asked sardonically, and left the room.
The men slept through breakfast, and then they slept through Sunday morning service. But it wasn’t easy to notice their absence, as the room was full of new people, several of whom were holding white canes.
Squinting, Pete scanned the sanctuary for any clues as to the whereabouts of his glasses, and then gave up and headed for the pastor’s office. “Pastor?”
Chris was seated at his desk. He didn’t look up. “Yes?”
“Someone took my glasses, and I can’t hardly see without them.”
Chris looked up at him. “Well, I’m not sure what you want me to do about it?”
In his past, Pete had been accused of having a hair-trigger temper. In a flash, he proved that allegation true. Pete slammed the door to Chris’s office so hard the whole wall shook. Then he put both hands on Chris’s desk, and leaned forward menacingly. Chris recoiled in his chair.
“Well, you know, you’re the pastor, and it’s sort of your job to figure this type of ...” He paused to avoid cursing. “This type of stuff out. Who else am I supposed to ask? Just go in there and tell them to give my glasses back! It’s your job!”
Chris stood up, and began to walk around his desk, still giving Pete a wide berth. “My job is to shepherd God’s sheep.” He opened the door. “My job is to preach, not to police. I’m sorry that you think someone took your glasses. But I cannot help you.” He stood beside the door as if waiting for Pete to exit through it.
Pete had other ideas. In two quick strides, he was nose to nose with the pastor, and the fear was apparent in the pastor’s pale face. Pete drew his right arm back. Chris closed his eyes and appeared to brace himself as Pete’s fist hit the wall just beside Chris’s head. The drywall crumbled beneath the force, leaving a giant hole in the wall just to the left of Chris’s framed divinity degree.
Pete had stormed out of the office before Chris even opened his eyes. Once he did, he looked around to be sure he was alone. Then he shut and locked his office door. He took several long breaths and then he dialed 911.
––––––––
Chris stayed in his office until the police arrived. Then he came out so he could point to the offender. The worship team, which was now composed of a rotation of volunteer musicians from other churches, people whom Chris and the elders had recruited to replace the regulars, had already started playing, and Pete was in the front row, with his deficient eyes closed, his mouth open, and his hands up in the air in praise.
One of the police officers asked him to step out into the aisle. Pete did not look surprised. The worship team stopped playing. The other police officer asked Pete to put his hands behind his back. He did so with what looked like stoic pride. As the officer snapped the cuffs onto his wrists, he quietly said, “You are under arrest ...” and led him down the middle of the sanctuary and out through the doors. Pete never said a word.
It was only then that Chris came into the sanctuary and took a seat near the front. The worship team picked up where they’d left off, and some of the people sang along. After a few songs, they left the stage, and Chris took their place. “Welcome!” he said, with arms spread wide. “We’re so glad to have you here to worship with us at Open Door.”
Chris’s message that morning was on integrity. He offered several Scriptures and a few present-day anecdotes, and then closed in prayer. And the congregation waited patiently as he did so. When he finished his prayer, the worship team had reclaimed their positions up front. It was clear that Chris was done and was headed for his seat, and someone called out from the back row, “Will there be a healing today?”
Chris looked in the general direction of the speaker, but didn’t seem sure of exactly who had spoken up. “Sure,” he said with a forced smile. “I would be happy to pray for anyone who would like to come forward.”
“Not you,” the voice called. “We want the boy.”
“Yes,” another voice joined in. “We came to see Daniel.”
Chris could see the second speaker and so looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry, what?”
The speaker, a middle-aged man wearing a pressed suit, stepped out into the aisle. “No disrespect, Pastor, but we’ve come to see Daniel, the boy who heals. He laid hands on someone last week, and the next morning, he could see.”
Chris appeared to be speechless.
Daniel made his way to the front.
When Chris saw him, his head snapped toward the child. “Sit down,” he barked.
Daniel stopped walking. “No,” he said calmly.
“Sit down,” Chris hollered.
Daniel stood firm.
“Now hold on a minute,” Chief said, and started belligerently toward to the front. But an elder’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll handle this,” Phil said condescendingly. “You can return to your seat.”
Chief didn’t return to his seat, but he did stop his march forward. He folded his arms across his chest and stood still.
Phil reached Chris and whispered something lengthy into his ear while the entire congregation waited silently. Not even a baby whimpered. Finally, Chris offered a broad smile. “My apologies, everyone. This has all caught me off guard, and I don’t always respond well to surprises. Of course, if God wants to do something here, who am I to stop him?” He chuckled and then motioned for Daniel to take his spot in front.
Daniel did. No one moved. No one seemed to know what to do next. Finally Harmony spoke up, “Why don’t you line up in front of Daniel, anyone who wants prayer.”
And the people came forward. And they stood in front of the eight-year-old boy. And one by one they spoke to Daniel. And Daniel took each person’s hand into his own as he quietly prayed for each illness, injury, and disability. It took nearly an hour. Most of the church guests left before they were officially dismissed. The elders left as well. But Chief stayed. Chief waited till the last prayer had been prayed. Then he watched Daniel, exhausted, collapse into his mother’s arms. And he watched Chris walk toward the sound booth. And he followed. And he heard Chris say, “Of course, we won’t be airing this episode.” And he heard the man with the camera say, “We’ll have to talk to our producer. Not sure what he’ll want to do with it. We’ll let you know.” And he heard Chris retort, “Don’t bother. I’ll go call him right now.” And Chief followed Chris to, and into, his office before Chris could even shut the door.
“What?” Chris snapped.
“Did you know that half the men were missing this morning?”
Chris sat down. He looked at the haggard man before him. “What?” he asked again. It appeared that he genuinely did not understand.
Chief licked his lips. “Randy and Fred brought a bunch of booze back to the shelter last night and a bunch of guys got lit. They’re still sleeping it off right now. A whole mess of ’em, including your hero Dwight.”
At the mention of Dwight’s name, Chris’s expression went from mild interest to complete dismissal. “OK, thank you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, looking down at his desk.
––––––––
When Galen answered the phone, a robot told him he had a collect call from Somerset County Jail. Galen groaned. This was not the first time.
“Will you accept the charges?” the robot asked.
“Yes.”
“Hey, G. Sorry ’bout this. Can you come bail me out?”
Galen recognized Pete’s voice. “Bail you out for what?”
“You weren’t in church?” Pete sounded shocked.
“No, sorry, we decided that six days in a row was enough. We thought we’d rest on the seventh day.”
“OK, OK, sorry. Don’t need to get snippy. Look I kinda lost it on Chris. I put my fist through his wall. I wasn’t gonna hit him, promise. But apparently he’s a wuss in addition to an arrogant hypocrite. Can you please come bail me out? I promise I’m good for it. I just really don’t have anyone else to call.”
“Good grief, Pete. I don’t have that kind of cash!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Do you know if Maggie still has access to the slush fund? I think Pastor Dan would’ve bailed me out.”
“Pastor Dan wouldn’t have had to bail you out. They would’ve just released you to him. Come to think of it, you wouldn’t be in this mess because you wouldn’t have put a hole in his wall. What did he do to get you so riled up?”
“Someone stole my glasses.”
“And you think the pastor did it?”
“No, of course not. But I told him, and he just didn’t care. I was so mad, because I couldn’t see.”
“All right. Um, sit tight. We’ll try to figure something out. But seriously, get comfortable, ’cause we are poor as crows.”
“OK, G. Thanks a million. Thank Maggie for me too. You guys are the best. Don’t know what that place would do without you. Sure do wish you’d been there today.”
