Chapter Thirty
Having finished washing the pots and dishes from their evening meal, Ellen
Pontiac stopped for a moment to gaze through an eastward facing window.
“Ah-h,” she sighed, viewing a natural yet miraculous scene above the Hegler’s farm. It was, no doubt, one some might consider picture perfect.
Apparently, with the combination of a shower, which had just passed, and the setting sun (being at the precise angle needed), a rainbow developed. And it was currently shining in full glory, displaying multi-shades of yellows, reds, blues and greens for all residing in the Triad community to see.
Ellen looked at it and smiled before glancing at her watch. It was now 8 PM, and soon Reverend Graham would be arriving. Earlier that afternoon, he had phoned and asked to see her and Paul – saying it regarded something very important. Thus, regretting having to leave the remarkable view, she headed toward the kitchen landline to tell Paul to come home.
Heaven knows, how much he’s going to complain about having to leave Tim.
*****
“Mom. I’m home,” Paul announced several minutes later, letting the screened kitchen door slam behind him.
Ellen noticed the sweat across his brow and his panting on his way to their refrigerator, Paul must have run all the way home. “Hi son.”
“So what does Reverend Graham want to see us about?” Paul asked, while yanking a gallon-size container of ice tea out of the refrigerator and pouring himself a glass. “I’m not in any trouble, am I?”
Ellen shook her head. “No. Not this time, Paul. The Reverend said he had something he wanted to discuss with …”
Outside, Midnight (Paul’s dog) unexpectedly started to bark – causing Ellen to stop mid-sentence. … When she turned to see what was disturbing him, she noticed a blue Chevrolet was cruising up their driveway.
Immediately recognizing this particular vehicle, she sprinted toward the nearest mirror available in order to check her makeup.
“Good evening, minister,” she greeted a moment later as Paul headed for the living room couch. “It’s always good to see you.”
Reverend John Graham presented her with a heart-warming smile, and the two of them shook hands. “Why, thank you Mrs. Pontiac. I’m so busy I rarely get a chance to come over. I see you made a few improvements since the last time I was here.”
Ellen immediately glanced at the patch of land his left hand was pointing to. “Oh? You must be talking about our garden. Paul and I have spent several hours working in it these past few weeks, and we’re hoping to get some fresh veggies this year.”
“By the looks of it, I have no doubt you will,” The reverend said with a smile before stepping inside.
Moments later when the two of them approached the living room, Ellen motioned for him to take a seat in their light-blue rocker. That way, she reasoned, everyone could maintain good eye contact as they discussed the matter at hand.
She then moved an afghan she had been working on into the large hand knitted bag sitting beside her wooden rocker and took her seat. “You mentioned over the phone Reverend that you wanted us to discuss Butch McGuire.”
“That’s correct,” John answered while noting Paul’s grimace. “I realize what the two of you … well actually the three of you counting young Nathan recently experienced and …”
“Well what?” Paul vehemently spat. “The son-of-a … Ah, I mean … the jerk literally tried to kill me and from what I understand … this coming Wednesday, he’s going to trial and finally going to get what he deserves.”
Ellen quickly turned and scowled at the expression her son almost used. However, in understanding Paul’s feelings, didn’t say anything.
“Would anybody like a cup of coffee or some tea?” she asked both her son and Reverend Graham a second later, as if nothing had occurred.
“A cup of coffee would be nice,” John answered.
“And I’d appreciate a refill, Mom,” Paul added, holding up his glass. “If you don’t mind?”
After watching his mother head towards the kitchen, Paul shifted backwards in his seat. … It definitely would not have taken a genius to figure out that he was feeling a tad nervous being alone with the minister and Reverend Graham couldn’t help but silently chuckle as he watched him.
“So where’s Nathan?” the minister asked in an attempt to break the silence.
Paul automatically glanced over his shoulder toward his younger brother’s bedroom and then shifted so he could gaze through their kitchen doorway.
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He then turned again toward the kitchen and shouted, “Mom. Do you know where Nathan is? Reverend Graham wants to know, and you didn’t tell me.”
“He’s at a friend’s house,” Ellen’s voice echoed across their dining room. “Since it’s a Friday night, I’m letting him sleep over.”
“Oh,” Paul said so quietly it would have been hard for anyone to hear him. “He’s at a friend’s house.”
“I see,” the reverend replied, and an awkward pause seemed to, once again, fill the living room. “Did Cathy ever tell you Paul what Stan told her in the bus parking lot the other day?”
Paul affirmatively nodded. “Yeah. But, do you actually believe that cra... ah, stuff? I sure don’t. Both Tim and I talked about it, and we think it was something his gang made up to try to make us feel sorry for him. After all, if it was really real, do you think they would offer to tell us where they hid the regional football trophy … just so we could return it and come out looking like heroes? … Naw. I’m sorry, Reverend Graham, Sir. We’re not buying it.”
John’s natural smile rapidly faded and when he looked at Paul, his countenance changed to one of concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping you boys would react to this situation closer to the way Jesus did in his time of trial.”
“What do you mean?” Paul asked as his mother entered the room with a metallic tray and handed him the refill he requested.
John paused, so he could take the cup of coffee Ellen offered, and then watched her return to her rocker. “If you recall Paul, even while on the cross Jesus asked for forgiveness of those who were persecuting him.”
“True,” Paul replied, shifting uncomfortably. “But that was because Jesus knew both the Romans and Jewish leaders did not realize who he was. Not to mention, wasn’t his crucifixion our Heavenly Father’s plan all along – so mankind would not die in sin?”
Reverend Graham smiled. “I see you have been paying attention in Sunday School.”
“Yes, Sir. I have,” Paul said with an ear-to-ear grin. “I have to. Every Sunday on our way home from church, not only does my mother ask what was taught that morning … after I tell her the topic, she asks a few specific questions just to see if I learned anything.”
“Good job, Ellen!” John beamed. “I wish I had at least a dozen more mothers like you. … Unfortunately though, most parents in Ossipee Baptist don’t take an interest in what their kids are learning.”
“I try,” Ellen began. “But …”
“There’s no buts about it, Mom,” Paul interrupted, now facing her. “As much as you’re on me about living the way Jesus would want me to and studying God’s Word, I swear, when it comes my time to go – if I don’t get to spend eternity in Heaven, it’s definitely not going to be your fault.”
“Which brings me back to what I would like to discuss with you and your mother,” John interjected. He then paused so everyone, especially Paul, could think about what was just said about living the way Jesus would want one to. “You see, Paul. What Butch did to you was completely wrong. There is no doubt about it. However, even though I don’t believe for one second the story Stan told both Cathy and I recently, I do know Butch’s past and unfortunately, it has not been an easy one.”
“So you want Mom and me to go to the prosecuting attorney and ask him to let Butch off the hook with Probation or something? And in return, let his gang tell me where the school’s trophy is so Tim and I can return it?”
John’s eyes sparkled as he observed Paul’s frown and the corners of his mouth began to turn upward.
“You have a plan. Don’t you Reverend?” Ellen asked as she leaned back in her rocker.
John broke into a broad smile. “You know me too well Ellen. … Not only do I believe I have a way to, using the cliché, hit two birds with one stone. It would also be something I believe would make our Savior proud.”
“Oh? Let’s hear it,” Paul said, moving forward in his seat.
“Okay. But before I begin let’s first pause for a word of prayer.”