Make Haste Slowly

by Amy K Rognlie

  Really. I thought back to that day when I rescued the baby. The day that Nicole’s pimp came to pick her up and Earl had—

  “I still say he knows him,” I said.

  “Who knows who, Callie?” Rob squinted at me.

  “Sheriff Earl. I could have sworn that he knew the guy who came to pick Nicole up from Sherm’s.”

  The men’s gaze met over my head.

  “And then there’s Houston.”

  Uh oh. Why had I let that slip out?

  Three pairs of eyes fastened on me.

  “What about Houston?” Mona asked.

  “I mean that he knows Nicole, too.” I squirmed a little bit.

  “But the question is, does he know what’s going on with her?” Todd asked.

  Mona fingered her earring. “Maybe he does. Maybe that’s why he’s been so grumpy lately.”

  And he would have to be the one to tell Mona. I fed my last bite of cornbread to Annie and stood up. Todd followed my lead and unfolded himself from the low camp chair.

  “Todd tells me he is a champion corncob chucker.” I smiled at him.

  “Back in the day, I could chuck one pretty far,” Rob said.

  “My honey won the blue ribbon for it at his high school field day, didn’t you, sweetie?” Mona patted his knee. “Rob went to school here right in Short Creek.”

  “Speaking of blue ribbons, when is the cook-off winner announced?” I asked. “I can’t believe anyone’s could be better than yours.”

  “They’ll announce it at the beginning of the concert tonight. Are y’all stayin’ for that?”

  I looked up at Todd, but he was not paying attention. His body was taut as he focused on something or someone I couldn’t see.

  “What is it, Todd?”

  “I thought I saw—” He turned to Rob. “Do you know Vic? Earl’s deputy?”

  Rob nodded.

  “He’s over there talking to Brandon.”

  Rob shrugged. “Prob’ly knows him from high school. Besides, aren’t deputies supposed to kind of mill around at these kinds of things so everyone feels comfortable around them?”

  Todd was still staring into the crowd. “I wouldn’t say Vic usually has good vibes as his main goal. I don’t like the feel of it somehow.”

  “Maybe it was someone who looked like Brandon?” I stood on tiptoe, trying to follow the direction of Todd’s gaze.

  He shook his head. “Let’s go take a little stroll over there, Callie.”

  He grabbed Annie’s lead in one hand and held his other out to me. “We’ll stop back by before we leave,” he said to Rob.

  I took Todd’s hand, and Mona squealed.

  “Y’all look so cute together, don’t they, Rob?”

  Rob hooked his arm around her shoulder and winked at Todd. “If you say so, Baby Doll.”

  Todd was pulling on my hand as Mona whipped her phone out.

  “You can take a picture later, Mona.” I followed Todd as he plunged into the crowd. Ordinarily, I hated crowds. But with Todd’s firm grip on my hand, I didn’t mind so much.

  Until I saw Vic.

  I stopped, staring at him. Something about him…

  “Todd, wait.” I pulled him behind the cotton candy booth. “I’ve never seen Vic before when he was not in his uniform.”

  I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to think.

  “What is it?”

  I opened my eyes again and studied Vic from my hiding spot. What was it that was setting off warning bells in my head?

  The tattoo.

  The same tattoo I had seen on Nicole’s neck.

  “His tattoo. The one on his forearm,” I whispered.

  Todd flipped his sunglasses up on top of his head and took another long look at Vic, then at me. “Yeah?”

  “Nicole has that same one on her neck.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Remember when someone threw a rock at me and you made me go to the hospital in the ambulance? Vic was the one who rode with me. I was feeling kind of woozy, but I remember staring at that tattoo on his arm, trying not to pass out again.”

  “Okay. But when have you been close enough to Nicole to see her tattoos?”

  “She was sunbathing in Sherm’s yard one day. I had my binoculars out because I use them to look at the birds, you know? I had just seen a female cardinal and I was trying to—”

  “Shh, I get it.” He pulled me deeper into the shadow at the back of the booth. “Let’s watch him for a little bit. We can talk it all out later.”

  We never did see Brandon again. But we did watch Vic long enough to tell that he was working the crowd—and not in an official capacity.

  I leaned my head against the headrest as Todd drove me home. He seemed especially quiet. “What are you thinking about?”

  He darted me a quick glance before staring at the road again. “I can’t quite put all of the pieces together. But I know we’re on to something.”

  My phone dinged. It was Mona.

  I smiled and read it out loud to Todd. “‘My honey took FIRST PLACE in the cook-off.’ Five exclamation points, two pairs of clapping hands, and three smiley faces. Oh, and she sent a picture of him with his trophy and all five grandkids.”

  “Guess we missed out on that action,” Todd said. “Good for him. That’ll give him decent bragging rights at church tomorrow.”

  “That’s for sure.” Except that it would likely be Mona doing most of the bragging.

  We rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you the latest.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Harry knows Latin.”

  “He does?”

  “Yep. He came in when I was visiting Aunt Dot the other day, and we were talking about…something. I can’t remember what we were talking about, when he dropped this Latin phrase into the conversation.”

  “What was it?”

  “‘Vulpes pilum mutat, non mores.’ It means ‘The leopard won’t change its spots.’”

  Todd wrinkled his brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I know what it means but I’m not sure who he was talking about.”

  “It would help if you could remember the context in which he said it. And does that mean that he’s the one who sent you the first Latin message? The one that was in the mystery gift?”

  I pulled my fingers through my ponytail. “I would assume so. I mean, he practically told me that the other day by letting me know he knows Latin.”

  “That was super confusing.” He grinned at me.

  “You know what I meant. And then when I got home, I found an envelope in my purse with one of Aunt Dot’s articles in it.”

  Todd jerked the truck from the road and pulled to a stop under a towering pecan tree. He turned in his seat to face me. “Why are you just now telling me this?”

  I shrugged, feeling suddenly flustered. “I kind of forgot about it because all of that stuff happened with Brandon. And then he took it. I think.”

  “Who took what?”

  “Brandon. He took the article off my counter in the shop. Or at least I think he did because it wasn’t there where I had left it when I went back to get it a few minutes later.”

  He groaned. “Callie—”

  “I know. I should have told you. But…”

  Todd grasped my shoulders. “You have to tell me every little thing. Somehow all of this fits together, and we need every tiny piece of the puzzle for it to make sense. Do you remember the article? There must be something important in it. Who do you think put it in your purse?”

  “Probably Auntie. I think it was called ‘Haunted in Houston’ or something like that.” I peeked up at him. Was he angry with me? I didn’t know him well enough yet to know if—

  He dropped his hands from my shoulders, touching my cheek gently. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I’m not upset with you. I keep feeling like we’re on the verge of figuring things out and then so
mething else comes up.”

  “I know.” I folded my hands in my lap. “Maybe we need to leave it alone for tonight. I get weary of talking about it so much. I’ll ask Aunt Dot tomorrow morning when I pick her up for church and double-check that she was the one who put it in my purse.”

  He pulled back out onto the highway. “Okay. But at least read the article online tonight. And if somehow someone other than Dot put it in there, then what?”

  “I don’t know. And why this article in particular?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next morning, I used my van to pick up Aunt Dot for church, knowing Todd had promised to save us a place if we ran late.

  “The mystery has been solved,” Aunt Dot announced as I pulled away from Willowbough.

  If only. “Which mystery is that?”

  “The mystery of my glasses, of course. Remember when you visited me the other day and something seemed strange about my glasses?”

  I had forgotten all about that. I slanted a glance at her. “Your glasses seemed fine when I saw the picture of your date with Harry at the polka service a couple of days later.”

  “Callie!” She blushed.

  I smiled, keeping my eyes fixed on the road. I shouldn’t tease her, but she and Harry were so cute together.

  “Well, anyway, remember when Karen was gone on the mission trip? And some other woman came to Willowbough to do our hair?”

  I nodded.

  “That woman had us all in the chairs in the salon, you know? And she collected everyone’s glasses before she started and then she mixed them up and gave us the wrong ones afterwards. Can you believe that? No wonder I couldn’t see that day. She had given me Inez’s glasses. And Beulah was wearing mine. Can you believe it?”

  I laughed, picturing the scene. “All I can say is that I hope Karen doesn’t go out of the country again for a long time. She has a way of leaving mysteries behind her.”

  “You can say that again. I’d like to never have gotten my eyesight straightened out after wearing Inez’s glasses for two days.”

  I was still chuckling when we pulled into the church parking lot.

  Aunt Dot’s arrival at Short Creek Community Church caused quite a stir. It took ten minutes to get to the front door, because everyone wanted to hug her and exclaim over her new hat.

  “Wow, Auntie. You’re kind of a celebrity around here.” I leaned over and handed her Bible to her.

  She craned her neck to look up at me. “No, this is my family, Callie. I walked through the doors of this church every week of my life until I moved to Willowbough.”

  Rick Holloway, Lonnie’s husband, held the door open so I could push Aunt Dot through. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Murray. I’ve been missing your smile around here.” He bent to kiss her cheek.

  “Thank you, Ricky,” she said. “I’m so thankful I could come today.”

  I grinned at Rick. “I’ve heard you called a lot of things, Mayor, but—”

  “She was my second-grade teacher. What can I say?” He handed me a bulletin. “Todd’s been looking for you. Things are heating up a little bit, I hear.”

  In more ways than one. “Yes, seems that way. I hope—”

  The organist boomed out the prelude, cutting off our conversation. I wheeled Aunt Dot through the double doors of the sanctuary and searched for Todd. He and Luke were already settled in their usual pew on the right side toward the front, directly across the aisle from where Mona and Rob usually sat.

  He turned around and I waved.

  “Dorrie!” Sister Erma squealed, grasping Aunt Dot’s hand. “I didn’t know you were coming this morning!”

  Aunt Dot grinned. “I thought I’d surprise you. Did you get my email the other day?”

  “Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but the service is starting.” Todd grasped the handles of the wheelchair. “Y’all can visit after church.”

  I followed as he pushed Aunt Dot, then parked her chair next to the pew. He motioned for me to slide into the pew next to Luke then scooted in after me, squeezing my hand for a second under the cover of my purse.

  “Hey, Miss Callie.” Luke looked up from staring at the floor and gave me a self-conscious smile.

  “Good morning, Luke,” I whispered. My years working in the middle school had taught me a little bit about pre-teen boys, and Luke seemed like a pretty decent kid.

  “Good morning!” Pastor Chad, our worship leader, brought us to attention. “It’s a beautiful day to be in the house of the Lord. Let’s all stand and sing together.”

  Jenna Holloway and a couple of other singers stood with him on the platform, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Jenna looked. She was one of those people who radiated the joy of the Lord. Every minute spent gluing moss would be worth it when the big wedding day finally arrived, I decided.

  I studied the young minister as he strapped on his guitar. He not only led worship, but he was the youth pastor as well. I had never seen a more energetic guy. But I sure didn’t envy him his job as head of our growing youth group at SCCC.

  We began with one of my favorite worship songs, and I closed my eyes. I raised my heart in praise along with my voice, my heart suddenly overwhelmed with how much God had blessed me. I had felt alone for so long. But now, I was surrounded by friends, family and my new church family. Despite all the craziness going on in my life, I knew God had a plan. He had brought me here, halfway across the country, for a purpose.

  Mona and I exchanged smiles across the aisle as I resumed my seat. I glanced at today’s sermon title in the bulletin. “What is God’s Will?”

  “Well, that’s appropriate,” I muttered out loud.

  Todd glanced at me, and I pointed to the words in the bulletin.

  He nodded, laying his arm along the back of the pew behind my shoulders.

  Pastor Brian took the pulpit. “I can’t tell you how many people over the years have asked me, ‘Brian, how do I know what God’s will is for my life?’ I’d like to tell you this morning that that’s the wrong question.” He paused and looked out over the congregation.

  “The right question is, ‘What is God’s will?’ Period. And what is God’s will? God’s will is that His kingdom come and His will be done. His will is that the message of the gospel is preached. His will is that sinners come to salvation.”

  I blew out my breath. Was this God’s direction to me that I should give up my shop and—

  “I am not saying that God is calling all of you to be missionaries in China. I am not saying you should all quit your jobs and work at the church. But what I am saying is that it’s not all about us. In fact, it’s not about us at all. And if we are blood-bought children of God, then He has a right to do with our lives as He chooses and for His glory.”

  Wow. Was the message especially strong this morning or was it only me? I didn’t glance around, but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one squirming by the end of the message.

  “So I’ll close with this quote from Henry Blackaby: ‘The Father will always relate to you out of the context of His love for a lost world. Have you been learning obedience through what you have been suffering? If you have, God may choose to make you a source of salvation to others even as He did with His Son.’”

  Pastor Brian closed his Bible. “It’s not about us, folks. It’s about Him. And, as Jesus said in John 4:34, ‘My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.’ That’s our work, too. To do the will of God.”

  God will always relate to you out of the context of His love for a lost world. The thought wouldn’t let me go. It was Monday morning, the faint red glow of the sunrise barely blushing the edge of the horizon. I loved praying here in my little office in the predawn dark, before the cares of the day pressed in on me. Sitting in His presence, listening for His voice.

  God will always relate to you out of the context of His love for a lost world.

  It was not a coincidence that I was involved in Nicole’s situation. God had placed her in my pat
h, and I had been moaning and groaning about the inconvenience of it. God, forgive me. Help me. Use me. I softly hummed, then sang, the words of the old song.

  Spirit of the Living God,

  Fall afresh on me.

  Melt me, mold me,

  Fill me, use me,

  Spirit of the Living God,

  Fall afresh on me.

  As I prayed for Nicole, I sensed an urgent need to pray for Houston. I knew he was carrying a heavy burden—shepherding a church while grieving over Nicole. Wrestling with fear and helplessness. But somehow, I felt there was more to it. That day he had told me about Nicole, I had glimpsed something in his eyes that gave me pause. He had more to confess, I was sure. Maybe not to me, but I hoped to someone.

  On my knees, I interceded for my friend. I would take him the “Jesus of the Scars” poem when I went to the shop today and see how he was doing. But first, I had something else to do.

  While I was praying, the answer to the festina lente number/letter thing had come to me. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? It wasn’t “PSIS58610.” It was: “P.S. Isaiah 58:6-10”.

  As in the P.S. of a letter? Or a note? Maybe I was missing the first part of the message. Maybe that’s why none of it made sense. But maybe there was a clue in the passage itself.

  I was familiar with Isaiah 58, but couldn’t remember what verse six said, exactly. I flipped to it and caught my breath:

  “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:

  to loose the chains of injustice

  and untie the cords of the yoke,

  to set the oppressed free

  and break every yoke?”

  Wow. Maybe Houston had been right that first day we opened the box and found the note. Maybe this truly was a message from God. I quickly scanned the rest of the verses until I got to verse 10:

  “…if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry

  and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,