Doc truly looked beaten. He sat across from Gabrielle and took both her hands in his. “She spoke the truth,” he said, tears streaming. “All of it. And I am both ashamed and sorry. Ashamed of the man I became, and sorry for everything I’ve said and done to hurt the love of my life. All I can do is apologize to her and to all of you and beg your forgiveness. I don’t expect it overnight. I know I have to prove myself to you, to humble myself and become the man God wants me to be.
“I’ve asked for forgiveness from my former pastor, and I ask the same from my new pastor. I also pledge you my full support, Zeke. I don’t feel worthy to remain an elder, but that’s up to you and Katashi, and I submit myself to your authority.”
As the holdouts pressed in around Doc, Bob Gill laid a hand on his head and prayed, “All praise to God, the Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. As it is written, ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’”
27
EXPOSÉ
“DOC, IF JENNIE is up to speaking,” Zeke said, “we should give her the floor.”
“If she’ll still have me as her doctor, I’m happy to check.”
“Please do,” she said, reaching to him. “But I need to tell you something in front of your brothers and sisters, and I’m going to speak to you not as my doctor—”
“After the way your husband talked to me, you can treat me like the family dog and it’ll be a relief.”
“Adam, I just want to say that in a lifetime of church work, you’re not the first person I’ve seen humbled. If you want it to stick, don’t go solo,” she said. “These people are here for you. Submit yourself before them and before the Lord, and He will lift you up.”
Doc teared up again. “Thank you, Jennie.”
“Now, Dr. Xavier,” she said, “clear me for takeoff, because I’m about to preach.”
He cupped her face and lifted each eyelid, asked when she had last taken her meds, and felt her pulse. He whispered which pills she should take and urged her to take more water than was required to get the medicine down. “How long do you expect to talk?”
“Just a few minutes.”
“And can you stay seated?”
“I need to.”
“Then you should be fine.”
Zeke said, “Can the kids join us?”
“Oh, sure,” Jennie said, and Alexis hurried to get them.
When they returned, Caleb and Kayla sat on the floor at their parents’ feet, Sasha sat on Zeke’s lap, and Alexis sat next to him atop one of the tables.
The holdouts gathered around their second oldest member, and as her husband dug her worn Bible from a bag and opened it before her, Doc made his way to Cristelle and made her comfortable before returning to sit with Gabi and their kids.
Jennie said, “As you know, I had hoped to speak briefly this evening before Bob and I left to move back home. Since Doc tells me that’s no longer feasible, I just want to share two verses and say a word about what we learned from Zeke and Alexis’s son.
“When I think of Junior, it strikes me that only half of us ever met or knew him. But what a legacy he left, and what an impact he has had on this group.
“As I face the end and look forward to seeing him again—he who was so confident of heaven, he said, ‘because of Jesus’—I love the Scriptures more every day. The story is told of the great Christian philosopher and apologist, Francis Schaeffer, who, near the end of his life, said he so loved his Bible that when he woke up in the morning and saw it on his bedside table, he would reach over and affectionately pat it. I can identify with that.
“I find it interesting that the verses that have been my favorites nearly all my life mean more to me today than they ever have. They come from that wonderful story in John 11 where Jesus is talking to Martha after she has scolded Him for being late to reach her and Mary when Lazarus was sick, and she tells Him that if He had gotten there sooner, Lazarus would not have died. He tells her that her brother will rise again, and she says she knows he will at the resurrection.
“And then Jesus says—and I have long believed this may be the most beautiful paragraph ever translated into English—just listen to these words and let them sink in: ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die.’”
Jennie paused, and it seemed to Zeke that no one moved or barely breathed, probably imagining as he did how poignant this was to Jennie now, already too weak to even endure a ride home to her family and not likely to survive another week.
“And then Jesus follows with the question that resounds through the ages, that I know you have all answered but I pray you will never stop asking others for as long as you have breath: ‘Do you believe this?’”
Jennie closed her Bible with a sigh, and everyone sat in silence until eight-year-old Kayla Xavier stood and said, “I do!”
Sasha slid off Zeke’s lap and said, “I do too.”
Katashi rose. “So do I.”
Elaine Meeks and the Xaviers were up at the same time, saying in unison, “I do!”
Raoul said, “Me too!” as he rose, Benita following with, “Sí! Yes!”
Danley Muscadin’s chair scraped the floor as he stood quickly and said, “I do.”
Bob Gill stood, one hand on Jennie’s shoulder and the other covering his mouth as he wept and nodded.
Zeke and Alexis and little Caleb all stood at the same time, announcing their I do’s over each other.
As people slowly sat, Mahir struggled to his feet and leaned forward, hands flat on the table before him. His arms shook and his face contorted. The room that had come alive with affirmations was suddenly still as a mausoleum. With a hard look back to Raoul, who had a hand on his sidearm, Zeke surreptitiously lifted his hand to indicate he should stay calm.
“That leaves two of us,” Mahir whispered. “Zeke, I’m begging permission to speak freely.”
“Just be careful.”
“I promise.”
“Go ahead.”
“If the question is ‘Do you believe this?’ my answer is yes.” He pushed off the table and rose to his full height, turning to face the pale young woman in the infirmary bed, IV line in her arm, heavily wrapped leg elevated, eyes red and swollen, tears flowing. “How about you, Cristelle? Do you believe this?”
She twice appeared to try to speak and finally pulled the sheet up to wipe her face. With a fragile voice she said, “Inside I am standing tall and raising both arms. I don’t know why you, of all people, are asking me this, Mahir, since it is because of you that both Danley and I can say yes. In fact it was you who told us that new believers should read the Gospel of John first, and that is why I have been memorizing so much of it.
“I was so happy to hear Mrs. Gill read those verses just now, because I have been memorizing them in my devotions this week. I just memorized the next verse too, where Martha answers Jesus’ question. So I will proudly say with her, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.’”
Mahir appeared to be hyperventilating. “Cristelle, I so want to believe you.”
She looked wounded. “You can believe me! Why wouldn’t you?”
Danley said, “What are you saying, Mahir?”
“Do we really want to do this right here,” Mahir said, “right now, in front of everybody?”
Zeke stood. “Yes, we do, Mahir. It’s time. Let’s have it out. What are we talking about?”
“You’d better be sure you want me to keep going.”
“Yes!” Zeke said. “Nothing is off-limits! This body is going to be one or—”
“Zeke, the children,” Bob Gill said.
He groaned. “Sasha . . .”
Her shoulders slumped. “On it, Dad. Caleb, Kayla, let’s go.”
As soon as they were gone, Zeke said, “Mahir, just say it.”
Danley said, “Yeah,
what’re you talking about?”
“Please,” Cristelle said, obviously terrified.
“All right,” Mahir said. “Two and a half weeks ago I was on the supply run. Everybody got mail, including you, Cristelle. Next morning I was checking the levels on Zeke’s Jeep, which I’d used for the drive. You didn’t see me when you came in there, ’cause I’d parked in the far corner. I was about to greet you when I saw you hide something in the shelves where the computer surplus stuff is. Do you deny it?”
28
CONFESSION
CRISTELLE STARED.
“Well, do you, or am I right?”
“You’re right.”
“I had to know,” Mahir said.
“What do you mean?” she said. “You looked at it?”
He nodded.
“Do you read Arabic?”
“I don’t,” he said. “But you do, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What was I supposed to think, Cristelle?”
“I don’t know, Mahir. What did you think?”
“I thought how strange it was that Haitians had come all the way to California in the middle of the worst drought in history without much hope of finding work or being able to travel. And then I remembered how open you were to the gospel.”
“We were hungry for it.”
“You sure were. You came to faith like you’d been looking for Jesus all your lives.”
“We had, even though we didn’t know it.”
“I’ll bet. It was like I was the perfect evangelist, the perfect witness.”
“We believed God had sent you, just for us.”
“You sure treated me that way.”
“Because you led us to the truth.”
“Oh, stop! We’ve seen a lot of people come to faith since we’ve been out here, but we don’t bring them into the family, into the compound. Why you?”
“We asked ourselves the same thing. We felt so blessed, so special. We still do. We thank God every day.”
“Oh, you’re good. You thank Allah, you mean.”
“What are you accusing us of, Mahir?” Danley said.
“I haven’t decided about you yet, Danley,” Mahir said. “But her, yes.”
“Her what?”
“Do you not know what’s going on in the world? Terrorists are radicalizing people everywhere, infiltrating. She would say anything, pretend to believe anything, do anything to get in here.”
“Mahir!” Cristelle said. “You think this because of what you saw me hide in the garage?”
“What else was I to believe?”
“I am your friend, your sister in Christ, your daughter in Christ! Why did you not just ask me?”
“Because you would have lied to me!”
“Mahir!” she wailed. “You are breaking my heart! Please honor me by asking me now.”
“About the document?”
“That is what a friend would do,” she said.
“I am not your friend!”
She burst into sobs. “That is plain.” And she muttered something.
“What did you say?”
“I said I would like to still be yours.”
“I’ll bet you would. So I’ll humor you. Go ahead. Tell me all about the document.”
“I didn’t ask you to humor me. I asked you to honor me, honor our friendship.”
“Our friendship is over. You would jeopardize the safety of this group, this place—”
“I would never do that! That is why I hid the document, so no one would feel threatened.”
“All right,” Zeke said. “Enough of this. I want an explanation. You admit the document was yours?”
“That’s what I said. I don’t deny it.”
“So what is it?”
“I had written to my mother in Carrefour, where we were raised, knowing she would be worried sick about what had become of us. The truth about how we got to California is actually silly and embarrassing. We had heard that we could find work and make money in Las Vegas, but we spent the last of our money on the wrong bus tickets and wound up in Los Angeles. We were trying to work our way to Las Vegas.
“We were stuck, barely getting by, hardly making enough to eat, and sleeping in shacks with other workers when you all were giving out clothes and food and telling people about Jesus. Danley noticed Mahir’s French accent and we shared a few Creole phrases. If you remember, Mahir, we told you our religious background.”
Mahir nodded. “You said you’d been raised Baha’i. Your mother was devout. And Danley’s relatives—uncles?”
“Right,” Danley said.
“My mother still is,” Cristelle said. “You must understand. Writing my mother that I had become a Christian would be like you writing your loved ones that you had become a Buddhist or a Muslim. I had to write a long, long letter, telling her both Danley’s and my whole story and why the gospel made so much sense to us. You know Jesus plays a big role in Baha’i. They believe in the unity of all religions, so He’s okay with them. They revere Him, but of course they do not believe He is the only Son of God and certainly not the only way to God. By telling my mother that we, and especially I, had become a believer in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, I might as well have been telling her that I was turning my back on her and everything she believed in. I knew that to her that meant I was leaving the family.
“I tried to tell her I was not doing this, that I still loved her and always would, but I had no idea how she would take it. Well, that is not entirely true. I had little hope that she would be convinced or that she would respond in any way other than the way she did. What I got back from her had no personal note, nothing telling me that she got my letter, agreed with me, disagreed with me, loved me, hated me, was kicking me out of the family, or what.
“It was simply Baha’i propaganda and doctrine that I am sure she expected me to read all the way through, see how wrong I was, and come back to my true religion. But I have no interest in that. My heart was changed when I found Jesus and my sins were forgiven. And as much as it hurts me to cause pain to my mother, my mind is made up. We do not burn things here, and I did not want to risk someone seeing this document in the trash, so I made the wrong decision and thought I could put it somewhere no one would find it.”
The bravado was gone from Mahir’s tone. “Your story could be easily proved if anyone else here could read Arabic.”
“I can,” Danley said.
“Someone without bias,” Mahir said. “Sorry to be so suspicious, but I’m pretty far out on a limb here and need to be sure.”
“Actually, I can read a little Arabic.”
All eyes turned to Jennie Gill, and even Bob looked surprised. “Really?” he said.
“I have no idea how much I’d remember,” she said. “But forty years ago I took a comparative languages course and learned how many dialects there were. I might be able to decipher a few words or phrases.”
Zeke said, “Cristelle, tell Danley exactly where you put the pages.”
He was back in minutes and spread them before Jennie. She studied the first page, a few from the middle, and the last. Slowly following her finger from right to left, she squinted and hesitated and pressed her lips together.
Finally she looked to Mahir. “You’ll be happy to know that this appears to be exactly what Cristelle says it is. Copyrighted by the Baha’i International Community.”
Zeke was staggered when Mahir sagged in his chair and banged his forehead on the table. He sat back and covered his eyes with his hands, sobbing. “Oh, no!” he wailed. “Oh, God, forgive me! Cristelle and Danley, forgive me! I’ve been such a fool!”
“You misunderstood, Mahir,” Cristelle said. “You should have just asked—”
“No!” he yelled, “You don’t understand!”
“You should have assumed better about your friends,” she said, “but—”
“No, no! I tried to have you killed! I don’t deserve to live!”
29
; INTERRUPTED
ZEKE RUSHED TO MAHIR. “What’re you saying?”
The Frenchman pounded the table as Danley approached. “I knew it! You forced her into that tanker Sunday!”
“I did! I even told WatDoc she was a terrorist and to go after her!”
“Mahir!” Zeke said.
“Just kill me!”
“Take my gun or I will!” Danley said as Katashi rushed over and pulled it from his holster.
Doc and Bob Gill stood to move Cristelle back into the infirmary, and Alexis grabbed the IV stand.
“Danley!” Cristelle said, fighting to be heard, her voice evidencing how weak she was. “Leave him alone! And Doc, I don’t want to go anywhere. Everyone stay right here. Mahir, you calm down, and I mean it.”
Mahir sat with his head nearly to his knees, banging his thighs with his fists. “I’m such a fool, such an idiot! Somebody just shoot me!”
“Nobody’s going to shoot you,” Zeke said. “Just calm down now.”
As Mahir sat rocking and weeping, Zeke felt a huge sense of relief. But why? Here he had just confirmed that a man he had worked with for twenty years had tried to have someone killed. But he no longer feared a terrorist among them. What was he to do about a friend who had committed a crime?
“Mahir, do you also want to tell the truth about the oxygen?”
He nodded miserably. “I lost my mind, Zeke. What if Doc hadn’t gotten to her in time?”
“We can’t cover up either of these incidents,” Zeke said. “They’re more than just personal offenses.”
“I don’t understand you, Mahir,” Cristelle said hoarsely, “and I’m deeply hurt. But I forgive you.”
“I don’t,” Danley said.
“Danley!”
“I’m sorry,” Danley said. “You can forgive him and God can forgive him, and maybe someday God can help me forgive him. Be he tried to take you from me! And all he had to do was ask!”
“You’re right,” Mahir said. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I couldn’t be sorrier, but I don’t blame you. And I know I need more than your forgiveness. I need help.”
The Valley of Dry Bones Page 23
