Searching for Anna By Jenifer Carll-Tong
Chapter 16 - By Faith
"Good evening, Miss Albright!"
Phoebe cringed. Of all the evenings for him to show up out of nowhere, Gregory Parker had to show up this one. She wasn't in the mood to socialize, let alone entertain the man for dinner, which she assumed was his intent. She'd pretty much had her fill of Gregory Parker last Sunday - with no restaurant in town, she'd no choice but to invite him for dinner. That dinner had lasted all afternoon, in spite of his protestations that he "must be getting along to his next church very soon."
She pasted a smile on her face and slowly turned toward the road. Gregory Parker sat in his new Buick Roadster, looking every part the Douglas Fairbanks, with his expensive suit and slicked back hair.
"Good evening, Mr. Parker," Phoebe said. "I didn't expect to see you so soon. No revivals this week?"
"Got one starting tomorrow in Gwinn. Since Iron Falls was on my way through, I thought I would stop by and visit the prettiest woman in the Upper Peninsula."
"Really? Well, then don't let me stop you from finding her."
Gregory laughed. "I see she's also the funniest."
Phoebe fought the desire to roll her eyes. Instead, she took a deep breath slowly and stepped off the porch. "I was just headed into town. Do you fancy a walk?"
"Why walk when you can ride in style?'" He jumped out and opened the passenger door.
Phoebe shook her head. "Really, Mr. Parker, wouldn't it be strange to drive such a short distance? Besides, the walk is a pleasant one."
"Only made pleasant by the company," he said. "Come on, humor me, Phoebe."
She gasped. "Mr. Parker, I really don't think it's appropriate for you to address me so informally."
His smile faded. "I'm sorry if I've offended you. I won't address you by your given name if that's what you prefer." He shut the car door. "Is that a right that you reserve for your constable?"
Phoebe felt her cheeks grow hot, but more out of indignation than embarrassment.
"You have no right –"
"Hey, Pastor…is everything alright?"
They both turned and found Wendell Jackson walking up the road.
"Oh, hello Wendell. Yes, everything is fine." She took a step back, putting distance between herself and Gregory.
"Yessir, my boy, everything is fine with your lovely minister here. I was just offering to take her for a ride."
Wendell's frown did not soften. "I came by to do some of the chores I promised I'd take care of."
"That's very kind of you, Wendell." She turned back to Gregory. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Parker, but it seems I am no longer free for our drive."
"Perfectly alright. Another time, perhaps?"
"Perhaps."
Gregory leaned in close to Phoebe. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier," he said softly. "I guess I fell victim to the green-eyed monster. 'Oh beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.' That's Shakespeare."
"I'm aware," she said.
"I'm praying for you, Miss Albright, that you will see that God had His hand in our meeting. That state trooper may have his sights set on you, but he'll never be able to give you the life that I can." With that, he climbed back into his Buick and sped off.
"I kind of lied," Wendell said.
Phoebe turned her attention away from the road and back to the young man. "Lied?"
"Yeah, I know Will already chopped some wood for you."
"Will?" Phoebe gasped, remembering the generous amount of immaculately stacked wood she had discovered earlier in the week after returning from a morning of calling on parishioners. "I thought you were the one who had chopped it all!"
"Nope. It was Will. I saw him this morning and he told me that he got most of it done already."
Phoebe noticed that the boy did not refer to Will as Officer Caffey but said nothing. She was too busy trying to not let the boy see how angry she was with Will for entering her back yard without permission.
"I actually just wanted to stop by and apologize for not gettin' the chores done like I promised."
"There's no need to apologize. You tried last week, remember? But you looked so exhausted that I didn't have the heart to have you labor more. I hope you don't think that I was upset in any way. Besides," she stood a little straighter and put her shoulders back. "I am completely capable of handling all my own chores."
"Oh, no ma'am. I knew you weren't upset. And I wasn't sayin' you couldn't do your own chores, only that you needn't, not with Will and me around. It's our ministry to free up your time to do pastorin', ya know?"
Wendell looked so proud of his self-proclaimed responsibility, that she didn't have the heart to argue further. Besides, if she were to be honest, chopping wood was near the bottom of her list of things she'd like to spend her time doing.
"But I still feel bad," he continued. "I wanted to get to it this week, but it's been a long one."
"I can imagine. Working in the mine must be difficult?"
"Yep, it wears ya out, but I don't mind it really. They're really nice there and we only have to work Monday through Friday, which is great. I've just been choosing to work Saturdays for the extra money. But I'm not workin' this Saturday. I figured I need a break."
"I'm glad to hear that. Taking Saturday off should give you some much needed rest."
"Well, that's the other reason I wanted to come by, to let you know that's when I'll be over to finish chopping the wood."
"Wendell, that isn't much of a day off! Besides, Officer Caffey chopped enough to keep me for quite a while."
"I don't mind. It won't take long – I already looked at the pile. And I'll have plenty of time afterwards for fun - Will's gonna teach me to shoot."
"You've never shot a gun before? I thought all fathers taught their sons to shoot." In fact, some, like her father, taught their daughters as well.
"My pa died when I was nine, so he never got around to it."
This stopped Phoebe in her tracks, and she turned to look at the boy. "Just like Will," Phoebe whispered, mostly to herself.
"Yes ma'am," Wendell answered her. "He and me, we got lots in common, besides being from Lansing."
"I'm so sorry," she said earnestly. "I had no idea."
"How would ya?" he smiled. "It's alright, Pastor Albright. I'm not sad about it anymore. I miss him, mind you, but I have all good memories of my pa. He was a good man."
"Well, that's something else you have in common with Officer Caffey. His father was a good man as well."
"Did you know him?"
"Well, I was nine as well when he died, so I only knew of him, really. But my father knew him very well. They were best friends, in fact. I do remember his funeral, though. It's the only funeral that I ever saw my father cry during – and he was the one conducting the service."
"Was that hard for you to watch?"
"It was heart-wrenching to see my father so broken, and to see Will standing so straight and steady, his arm around his mother's waist. I couldn't stop crying, but Will didn't shed a single tear at the funeral. He was as solid as a rock for his mother," she said.
"I'm not that strong," Wendell said. "I cried like a baby at my pa's funeral."
Phoebe remembered more but didn't share it with Wendell. She remembered the dinner at her house after the funeral, and all the family and friends quietly milling around, sharing stories of Mr. Caffey. She remembered all the women gathered around Mrs. Caffey, one handing her a cup of tea, another a handkerchief, all trying to comfort her with words of condolence.
She also remembered that she couldn't find Will. She looked all through the house, on the front porch, even upstairs in the bedrooms, but he was nowhere to be found. She finally found him in her mother's garden, on his knees, hunkered down between two rose bushes, crying.
Phoebe said nothing, just knelt next to him and placed her hand on his back. Immediately, Will wrapped his arms around her and the weight of his sorrow brought her to tears as well. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, two children crying adult-sized tears, until there were no more to fall. When they had finished, Will wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, Phoebe on the skirt of her dress, and they returned to the house. Neither of them had ever mentioned it again.
"Tears are not a sign of weakness, Wendell, but rather a sign of affection. Clearly your father meant a great deal to you. Of course, you cried, and I'm sure Officer Caffey did as well, whether anyone else witnessed it or not. Your strength has been proven by the life you have lived, and continue to live, since your father's passing. Continuing to make him proud of the man you are becoming, that's the true sign of strength."
Wendell smiled. "I never met Mr. Caffey, but I'm sure he's proud of Will, too."
"I'm certain that he is," she answered honestly.
"Miss Albright," Wendell began, "does that mean you believe they can see us from heaven? I mean, our loved ones that have died?"
"Yes, I do," Phoebe answered. "Do you remember the 'By Faith' scriptures found in Hebrews?"
Wendell flushed a little and looked at the ground, kicking his foot around in the dirt.
"I don't know much about the Bible, ma'am."
"Have a seat on the stairs while I grab mine."
She returned shortly and sat next to Wendell. She opened to Hebrews 11 and began reading Paul's accounting of the saints and how they exhibited their faith in God, from Abel to Rahab and all of them in between. Wendell interrupted her.
"What does this have to do with heaven, other than all these people bein' dead?"
"This doesn't mention heaven, but it's so important to the next chapter of Hebrews. Read that first verse of chapter 12 for me Wendell."
"I'd rather you read it. I don't like to read out loud."
Phoebe paused and looked at the boy. "Alright. It says, 'Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.' Now, Wendell, after reading chapter 11, who are the cloud of witnesses that Paul is referring to in chapter 12?"
"Well, I guess all those people who had faith."
"Exactly. All those that have gone on before us. And not only can they see us, the Bible also says they are cheering us on as we race through this life. Isn't that exciting?"
Wendell's shoulders slumped and he turned away from her.
"Wendell? What's the matter?"
"I was hoping that you would tell me that my pa couldn't see me, because if he can see me, I know he ain't proud of who I've become."
"Why on earth would you say that?" Phoebe asked, shocked that this kind-hearted teenager would feel this way.
"Because my pa – he was just like all those people you read to me about. He had faith. He believed in God. But me, I – well I gave up on God when he took away my pa. And if he knows that, then I know he's disappointed in me."
Phoebe took a deep breath. She let the silence hang between them for a moment, allowing the Holy Spirit to work, not only on Wendell, but on her soul as well. She wanted her next words to be the Lord's, not her own.
"Wendell, I believe your father, if he was a man of faith, is cheering you on just like the Bible says. And until you die, he will continue to cheer for you. But I don't believe that he is cheering for you to work harder at the mine, or for you to volunteer your free time to the church. Those things are all commendable, but what he is cheering for is for you to turn from the sinful life and accept Jesus as your Savior. He is cheering for you to become a man of faith like him."
With tears brimming in his eyes, he turned to Phoebe. "How do I do that?" he asked.
She flipped the pages of her Bible to the book of Romans. "Let me show you."
