Both Ways

by Edward Goble

Both Ways

  Edward Goble

  Copyright 2007 by Edward Goble

  ISBN 978-1-4660-6935-0

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Cover design by Bluegrass Creative | www.bluegrasscreative.com

  Photo by vasiliki

  Chapter 1

  What he hadn’t prepared himself for was her striking physical beauty. Oddly, as if in spite of herself, this hurting woman was sexually arresting. The briefest handshake and greeting had so knocked Madison off balance that he momentarily struggled with his role. Not being a man who normally succumbed to impure thoughts, he was both surprised and ashamed by his initial reaction.

  Mrs. Thompson and Ms. Neilson sat in the two leather side chairs while Madison took a deep breath and willed his legs to return to his post behind his desk. Ms. Neilson slowly removed her glasses to reveal a severely swollen eye and cheek. She looked at the Pastor with glassy, tear-filled eyes. Compassion temporarily displaced other thoughts that were clawing their way to the front of Pastor Madison Enright’s mind.

  The name on his calendar was Dawn Neilson, an occasional attendee, whom Madison had never met (he would have remembered). An electronic note from Mrs. Thompson informed him that Ms. Neilson was fleeing an abusive relationship and needed some temporary help. It was a familiar story. So many homes were in turmoil - fighting spouses, neglected children, abuse, infidelity, and addiction. It was an epidemic, a runaway train.

  Madison’s own parents’ marriage didn’t survive his childhood. His old man had been unfaithful more than once, growing more and more angry and bitter before walking out on his wife and son. With no family in the area, Mrs. Enright pulled herself together and bravely sought the help of a little church near their home. The old minister and church family took her in and helped them get through. Madison had never forgotten that. He remembered his mother’s courage and vulnerability, and he remembered the love and acceptance they both felt from the church. And she made it. They made it. It was probably harder than he remembered. His mother shielded him from the worst of it, he was certain. But the ordeal, especially the church’s mercy, had a positive effect on the young man, as well. It built in him a heart for the family and affected his preaching and teaching profoundly, to the extent that Community Chapel was becoming known as the place you came to get your marriage and family fixed.

  Feeling exposed and awkward, Ms. Neilson could hardly maintain eye contact, her eyes resting, instead, on a spot on the wall over Madison’s right shoulder. She felt guilty and out of place. She wasn’t used to asking for help and didn’t relish the idea of sharing her personal problems with a complete stranger, especially a man. Her track record with them wasn’t all that good. Mrs. Thompson’s presence brought a little comfort.

  “We’re glad you’re here,” Madison said in an authentic, sensitive tone. “It takes a lot of courage to follow through with an appointment like this. It’s not an easy thing to do.”

  “I sat in the parking lot for quite a while. I... I’m not a regular church person,” she stammered.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Church person or not, this is a safe place for you to be. You are among people who understand and who care.”

  After an eternity of silence, she took a deep breath and compelled her eyes to look at the Pastor. “I didn’t know what to do, but my friend, Terry Page, told me this church would help. So I, I called... I don’t even know what I need, really. It’s just, I couldn’t take it. I had to get out of there.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, he’s doing drugs, and,” she hesitated. “And he hits me... obviously,” she said, and started to cry again. “Just when he’s high, but, you know, I... I’m just not the kind of girl that’s going to take that.” She looked seriously at Madison, glanced at Mrs. Thompson, then shook her head and studied the ceiling, attempting a half-hearted smile as if she couldn’t believe she were sitting here admitting these things about herself. “I mean, I’ve seen the movies, the Hallmark channel and Lifetime. I’ve seen the stories about the girls that are abused and just keep going back to idiots just like Brad Spires. And everyone watching the show wonders how anyone could possibly be that stupid. And I’m like, I’m becoming that girl, and I’m tired of it. I’m not going to take that any more.” She looked again at Mrs. Thompson who nodded sympathetically.

  “You did the right thing, Dawn. Nobody has the right to hit you or push you around. Your boyfriend needs help, but it’s not help you can give. You were right to get away from there. Do you have a place to stay?”

  “With Terry and Greg for now.”

  “Okay. You can’t go back to this Brad. You realize that, right? Not until he gets the help he needs.”

  “I’m not going back with him. There’s no way.”

  “Have you been to the police?” Madison asked, knowing in his gut that she wouldn’t want to draw that line in the sand. She shook her head. “Yeah, I figured not. Well, you need to talk to them, just to make a report so they have it on record. It’s for your own safety. We can have an officer come out here and talk to you if you’re okay with that.”

  “But I don’t want him arrested or anything, I just... I just want to get away from him,” she said.

  “I understand. All they’ll do is write down your story and keep it on file. You don’t have to press charges or anything. That way, if anything ever happens, you are already on record,” Madison explained.

  “Okay, I guess. Sure.” Except for the bruises and throbbing cheek, she was feeling a little better already.

  Madison picked up the receiver and dialed intercom 13, “Dan, yeah, can you and Julie come down here for a minute? Thanks. Dawn, we have a Pastor and his wife on staff who take care of needs just like yours; they’ll help with everything. I’m going to introduce you to them.” Madison stood as Mrs. Thompson stepped back into the outer office to meet staff counselors, Pastor Dan Williams, and his wife, Julie. After introductions and a group prayer, Dan and Julie escorted Ms. Neilson to their office, where they would provide counsel and resources to meet her immediate needs. Madison stood in the doorway in front of Mrs. Thompson’s desk, watching the trio until they disappeared down the west corridor.

  “Poor lady,” he said, which was not all he was thinking.

  “I don’t know what this world is coming to, Pastor,” Mrs. Thompson said, pursing her lips as she resumed her regular post. “I’ll never get used to seeing people hurt like that. What kind of monster hits a lady? That’s what I’d like to know. She’s such a precious young woman. My first thought is how pleased I am that my sons are good, respectful young men who would never do such a thing. Pretty selfish, I guess, comparing her terrible situation to my own family.”

  “I know how you feel, and it’s not selfish - it’s honest. Personally, my thought was that I’d like to drive over there and see if her boyfriend would like to pick on someone his own size.”

  “That’s very Pastoral of you,” Mrs. Thompson said, and they shared a laugh.

  “Just being honest,” he admitted. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to head out the back.”

  “Nothing else on my desk, Pastor. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 2

  Madison arrived back at the office early the next morning, started the coffee maker and hit the books. He tried to have his weekly sermon finished by Thursday morning so it could percolate for a few days before the weekend. It was already Wednesday, and the heart of his chosen passage was proving elusive.

  He twisted the kinks out of his neck and rubbed circles around closed eyes, elbo
ws propped on the desk in front of his iBook, as he searched for inspiration. Outside the closed door, he could hear the buzz of the church office as people began arriving, and the place spun to life. Madison had been gradually discovering that success provided insulation. The larger he became in the eyes of the congregation, the more privacy he seemed to be afforded. He enjoyed what his job had become - not that you would ever hear anyone refer to what he did as a job. No, The Ministry was bigger and higher than a mere job. This was a Calling. A storybook tale of how God reached out to a lost and hurting young man. God said, “Follow Me,” and he did, taking up his cross to follow the Master, adopting as his own the paradoxical life of a minister. This undefined “Higher Call,” the intangible that separates ministers from everyone else, was Madison Enright’s secret advantage and greatest adversary.

  He glanced at the computer clock. Time was getting away. He arched his back and stretched his arms high and wide, attempting to refocus on the challenge at hand. Being

  in the Wrong Place at the Right Time.

  In the spring of the year, when kings normally go out to war, David sent Joab and the Israelite army to fight the Ammonites. They destroyed the Ammonite army and laid siege to the city of Rabbah. However, David stayed behind in Jerusalem. (2 Samuel 11:1)

  Madison focused his attention, his fingers beginning their assault on the little computer keyboard. We are familiar with the story of David, the little shepherd boy who guarded the flocks and wrote praise songs to God. God picked David to lead His people, the children of Israel, and, as a young man, David became King. King David was a powerful, fearsome man. He had proved the victor in countless battles. David had a reputation as a warrior without equal. He went where he wanted and answered to no one.

  But in the springtime of this particular year, when, as the text says, Kings normally led their troops in battle, David chose to send his troops out alone while he stayed behind at the palace.

  King David wasn’t leading the troops. David wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Now, the old saying goes that when the “cat’s away, the mice will play,” which might suggest, in this context, that a leaderless army would be a vulnerable force. But in this case, it was the King, the Top Cat, in the vulnerable position. Because the army was in the right place, they were doing what they were called and commissioned to do - they were in the right place at the right time. But David, the King and Commander in Chief, wasn’t with them. He wasn’t leading them as he had been appointed and anointed to do. He was out of place. He was back at his own place - in the wrong place - at exactly the right time.

  “Out of place, back at his own place, in the wrong place,” he recited and refocused on the text.

  Late one afternoon, after his midday rest, David got out of bed and was walking on the roof of the palace. As he looked out over the city, he noticed a woman of unusual beauty taking a bath. He sent someone to find out who she was, and he was told, “She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite.” Then David sent messengers to get her; and when she came to the palace, he slept with her. (2Samuel 11:2-4)

  When you are in the Wrong Place at the Right Time you are Right in Line for Temptation. David should have been leading his men into battle. They were armed and on the field, as he should have been. But, instead of being on the field of battle, he was on the roof of the palace. Instead of being armed for war, he was disarmed by lust. And he committed adultery, sleeping with the wife of one of his men.

  Madison pressed Apple-S on his iBook and pushed back a bit from the desk. “...Instead of being armed for war, he was disarmed by lust,” he practiced to himself. The sun was lighting up his office now. Shadows from the old oak beside the building played across the shelves and chairs as the spring breeze teased the leaves and smaller branches. He sat back with a satisfied sigh. Just then came the familiar tap on the door, followed, a few seconds later, by the customary, narrow opening by the petite figure of Mrs. Thompson.

  “Excuse me, Pastor, your one o’clock is here,” she said in a courteous voice just above a whisper.

  “Thanks, okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” He saved his work and put the computer into sleep mode. “The wrong place at the right time,” he said out loud again as he stood and walked toward the door.

  “Green Bean! It’s been too long!” Madison said. His guest, who had finished flirting with sixty-six year old Mrs. Thompson and was now mindlessly looking out the window over the sanctuary courtyard and fountain, turned and smiled. The two buddies embraced.

  Chapter 3

  Dave Bean was Madison’s alter ego, having spent a year and a half as roomies at RLU. They had grown nearly inseparable until Dave, a pre-law student with an independent streak a mile wide, had a disagreement with the administration and dropped out. The administration wanted Dave to sign a Statement of Faith contract “for his file.” Something, according to them, as a religious college, they needed each student to sign in order to demonstrate to the board and constituents that Rogers Lewis University continued to faithfully train like-minded young people in every field of endeavor. Dave had successfully avoided signing the contract, which he objected to “on principle,” for nearly two years. “It’s still a free country and, as long as I pay my bill and do my work, it shouldn’t matter if I believe in Chuck E. Cheese.” With that line drawn, The Bean quit school and moved out of the dorms, paying rent by delivering pizzas and doing ad layout for the Thrifty Nickel. He would have been a great lawyer. He eventually landed a job selling computers, (the next Big Thing, as he saw it in 1986, and never finished college.) With a knack for staying a few steps ahead, Dave made a small fortune in the software business after he went in with a customer of his on an idea to create a database management program for retail stores. By age twenty-five, while most of the “Class of ‘89” were still admiring their college degree, Dave was on his way to becoming a millionaire several times over.

  “So, since when does a guy have to make an appointment to see his best friend?” Dave said in mock annoyance. “Give a man a corner office and all of a sudden he’s bigger than God.”

  “Yeah, I’m a pretty big deal, huh. I’m huge in Almond Grove.” Madison motioned toward a chair.

  “I’m not kidding, man,” Dave said as he sat down. “I call the other day and I get this sweet old lady and she says,” doing his best Lilly Tomlin, ‘Pastor Enright has an opening Wednesday at 1:00 pm. Would you like me to schedule that for you, sir?’ I mean, give me a break. I should have said, ‘No, I’ll be there at ten and I’ll stay as long as I want! And while you’re at it, block out the rest of the afternoon because we’re going to catch a movie after lunch!” David had a good heart, but, when it came to authority or protocol, he could get a little worked up.

  Madison just shook his head and smiled, “So how you been, man? It’s been like two years; we thought you moved to Bali - up and went native.”

  “Something like that. No, just thought I’d make an overdue trip up to see you and Jill.”

  “Bored?”

  “Ah, I don’t know, just ready to grow up maybe. We’re pushing forty, brother.”

  “Why mess with a good thing? You’ve got the life everyone dreams about. Big time computer guru, chick magnet. You’re like James Bond without all the explosions.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got it all - and exactly two friends in the world.”

  “...Who haven’t seen you for nearly two years.”

  “My point exactly. Time to ease back on the throttle.”

  “Life in the fast lane.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s not worth it.”

  “So what are you thinking about?”

  “Right now I’m thinking about lunch, I haven’t eaten for like three hours. Can we get out of this funeral home and get some food?”

  “Absolutely.” Madison grabbed the phone receiver and punched a button on the keypad. “Mrs. Thompson, my old friend here thinks he’s starving to death so we’re going to step out the back for s
ome lunch. Sure, that’d be great. Thanks.”

  “This way,” Madison said, motioning toward a side door. One of his favorite design features of the new office complex was the private stairway that led from his office down to the first floor where there were two doors - one which led to a small “Ready Room” off the main stage, from which he could enter the sanctuary and also retreat after services without having to go through the main doors with the throng - and an exit door with a crash-bar on the inside and a keyed entry on the outside to which there were only two keys, the one on his ring and another on the custodian’s master set. The exit door led to a back parking lot, which had been added for overflow parking and was an easy walk to the sanctuary entrance for latecomers. This lot was also where staff parked, and rare was the morning that the “Reserved for Pastor” spot wasn’t occupied with his black Range Rover before any other place was taken.

  The lunch rush was ending by the time they made it downtown, and the lot wasn’t overly crowded at Olive Garden, so Madison wheeled the big SUV into a spot, and the two left the rig in search of a couple never-ending pasta bowls. Madison recognized a few people from church and made the obligatory stop by their table to say hello. The assistant manager, Tom Smyth, who attended the chapel on Saturday nights stopped by their table to say hello, as did one of the servers, Shani Andrews, a single mom who volunteered in the Children’s department.

  “Pastor Enright. Nice to see you,” Shani said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to say hi,” she smiled at the Pastor and glanced briefly at his guest.

  “Not at all, Shani, it’s great to see you. Let me introduce you to one of my oldest friends, Dave Bean.” Madison said. Dave immediately stood and extended his hand, a gentlemanly act which didn’t go un-noticed by Miss. Andrews. His kind, grey eyes were an unexpected pleasure to meet with her own.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Well, I’m working another section, and I can feel them all watching me,” she smiled, rolling her eyes, “better get back over there.” Dave sat down and the men waved good bye as she disappeared into the kitchen.

  “You’re a regular celebrity around here, Mad. Are you thinking about running for mayor after you retire from Jesus-land, or what?”